She thought about the sensation of the water on her limbs, the terror of feeling the waves tug at her and the satisfaction of having confronted something that frightened her so badly. “It felt good. I don’t think I’ll be swimming to the mainland anytime soon, but it was a start.”

Lizzy scrambled to her feet. “Ryan, will you read a story?”

“Sure.” He lifted her into his arms. “What’s it to be? Green Eggs and Ham?”

Knowing how badly Lizzy needed to be wrapped in that security blanket right now, Emily sent him a grateful look. “I’ll fetch the book.”

“Not that one.” Lizzy’s arms were around his neck. “I want the one in your head. The one you told me that time Emily was sick, about Abbie, the lighthouse keeper’s daughter who kept the lights burning when her father couldn’t get back to the island.”

Ryan sat down at the table with Lizzy on his lap and started telling the story while Emily made sauce for the mac and cheese. Thunder boomed outside the cottage, and Lizzy flinched against Ryan, who carried on telling the story in his calm, steady voice.

“It was one of the worse storms ever—”

“Worse than this one?”

“Much worse than this one…”

Lizzy kept interrupting, asking questions. Did Ryan think Abbie had been afraid? Why hadn’t she used a boat to escape? Could the waves have covered the lighthouse?

He answered everything with the same quiet patience, returning each time to the story until another clap of thunder came from overhead. This one was so loud even Emily flinched, and Lizzy hid her face in Ryan’s chest and clutched his shirt.

“I don’t like storms.”

“Plenty of people feel the same way.” His hand smoothed her spine, gentle and reassuring. “Rachel was the same, but don’t tell her I told you.”

“But she’s big and brave.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t like storms. Everyone is afraid of something.”

He’d used the same calm tone with her, Emily remembered. On the day of her meltdown, it had been his voice as much as his presence that had calmed her. When Ryan spoke, it was impossible to believe anything bad could happen, that the world could be anything other than a safe place.

Lizzy relaxed her hold on his shirt. “Are you afraid of storms?”

“Not storms, but there are plenty of other things that scare me.”

“Like what?”

He hesitated. “I don’t like hospitals. I don’t like the way they smell or sound. I’ll do just about anything to avoid going into one.”

Lizzy pondered. “But what if the doctor said you had to go to the hospital?”

“Then I’d go.” His hand stroked her hair. “Being afraid doesn’t mean you don’t do something, it just means it isn’t easy and you have to try a little harder than other people.”