Читать книгу Season of Redemption - Jenna Mindel - Страница 11

Chapter Three

Ugh! Forty degrees and rainy and her car was in the shop. Kellie shivered but kept pedaling. Her breath billowed white before her, and she had to blink constantly to clear the raindrops from her eyes. She should have worn a ball cap instead of the knitted hat she had on underneath her rain slicker.

She’d only ridden a mile out of town and already her jeans were soaked. Four more to go in this miserable mess. As soon as she got paid next week, she’d repay Ryan Marsh for the tow truck. Her car would be done before that, but she’d have to use her credit card to pay for it. Another climb on that plastic balance didn’t sit well, but she didn’t have much of a choice.

A car passed by, splashing dirty water all over her feet. Kellie gritted her teeth as cold rain trickled down her neck, but she kept pedaling. She puffed another billow of white breath in the cold evening air and picked up the pace in order to make the hill in front of her.

The exertion warmed her, but not even halfway up the hill, Kellie couldn’t push anymore. She slipped off her bike to walk the rest of the way when a dark blue pickup truck pulled off the road up ahead.

She knew that truck. And the tall man getting out of the driver’s side. Ryan Marsh, bundled in a dark gray rain parka, shortened the distance between them in no time.

He reached for her bike with his big square hands. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

Kellie didn’t let go. “No need. I’ve got it.”

The rain grew more insistent. So did Ryan’s expression. “You really think I’m going to leave you out here? You’re hard to see in this soup.”

Kellie had reflectors on her bike and a reflective strip across her backpack and rain slicker, but as dusk grew closer, so did patches of fog and mist. She glanced at the cab of his truck promising dry warmth and a quicker ride home. Her hands were cold inside damp gloves.

“It’s not like your place is out of my way. I live only a few houses down from you. Plus, I’ve got some questions about group sessions.” Ryan shrugged deeper into the hood of his jacket while rain trickled down the front. “I could really use your insight into what to expect.”

Kellie looked into his pleading eyes and felt the refusal die on her lips. He wanted her help. She wanted to get warm. How harmful could it be?

Kellie nodded and let go of her bike. She watched Ryan lift it with ease into the truck’s bed. She slipped off her backpack, climbed into the passenger side and buckled up.

Ryan settled in behind the wheel bringing with him a spray of raindrops. He cranked up the heat and pointed to the cup holders in the flip-down console between them. “I just filled my travel mug with hot chocolate at the gas station. Help yourself.”

Kellie looked with longing at the giant insulated mug, steam rising from the lid. She glanced in the backseat and spotted a brown grocery bag. What was in the bag? “No. That’s okay.”

He gave her quizzical look. “Kellie, go ahead and have it. You’re frozen. And in case you’re wondering what’s in the bag back there, it’s milk and cereal, not beer.”

True, she’d been wondering and nodded. Cold shivers racked her body and she suddenly didn’t care about drinking after him. Stripping off her wet gloves, she reached for the metal mug. She cradled her hands around the stainless steel warmth and sighed. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Looking in his mirror, he pulled back out onto the road.

After a few sips of hot chocolate, Kellie got down to business. This couldn’t be a social call. “You wanted insight into your sessions?”

“I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do.”

“You’ve met with John about your goals, right?”

“Yeah. My goal is to get this done and over with as quickly as possible.”

Kellie shifted in her seat so she could better see Ryan’s face. He looked annoyed. “Group will mean more if you focus on each session instead of the end result. Give yourself permission to open up and share your feelings in a safe environment.”

He gave a rude snort. “I’m not comfortable talking about my feelings with people I know let alone to an entire group of strangers.”

Kellie took another sip of chocolate. She didn’t point out that his refusal to deal with his feelings was what got him to this point. Ryan probably felt too much, and being the hero-type he wouldn’t dream of burdening someone else with his baggage. He’d carry his own, never wanting to appear weak or needy.

Kellie could definitely relate. Self-dependence was her mantra. Her safety measure. Maybe she didn’t let herself feel enough because strong feelings needed an outlet for release. She shook off those thoughts. Counseling required a certain level of emotional distance, and she’d learned how to distance herself pretty well.

Another sip of hot chocolate and she felt more human and less like a wet sponge. “Vocalizing can minimize the power those feelings have.”

He looked at her. “Talking about it isn’t going to make it go away.”

“How do you know?”

Ryan didn’t answer.

Kellie figured that he’d probably never talked about how the death of his fiancée had affected him. How if affected him still. Bottling up that much emotion was bound to one day pop his cork. Was it any wonder he’d sought something to numb the pain?

Silence stretched inside his truck emphasizing the whish-whish from the windshield wipers and the gentle hum of the heater. Kellie noticed that they had pulled on to their road. They were coming up to what should be his mailbox, but one of the numbers was missing. She’d already checked.

As if reading her mind, Ryan pointed in confirmation. “I live right there. I go through town every day on my way to work, so I can give you a ride tomorrow if you need it.”

“Thanks, but—”

He raised a hand. “I know, I know. Conflict of interest.”

“Ethics.” She smiled. “Accepting another ride from you is a definite conflict of ethics.”

Ryan shook his head. “That’s stupid. I suppose lying sprawled on the side of the road after you’d been clipped by a driver who couldn’t see you is more noble.”

He had a point. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, you are.”

He pulled into her driveway and stopped along a row of trees. Putting the vehicle in Park and shutting off the noisy wipers, Ryan turned toward her with a grim face. “Look, I don’t want to feel the way I do.”

Listening to the sound of rain dancing along the roof of Ryan’s truck, Kellie held back from asking the obvious question of how he felt. She had a pretty good idea but had no business trying to counsel this guy through his issues. They tread dangerous ground as it was considering the intimate setting inside his warm truck.

She glanced at the mug of hot chocolate she’d been drinking, and the temptation to do something for him tugged at her. She looked him square in the eye. “Give group an honest effort. You’ll be surprised.”

“I don’t deserve this.”

Kellie’s hackles rose. That was a typical reaction from a person in denial. How many times had she heard someone say they didn’t deserve court-ordered treatment because it was someone else’s fault for the pickle they found themselves in? Disappointment swamped her. She’d thought maybe Ryan was different. Guess not.

She let loose a sigh. “No one forced you to go to that party.”

His gaze bore into hers, dark and angry. “I don’t deserve to be surprised, okay? Or happy.”

Kellie blinked. Talk about self-punishment. Ryan had beaten himself up long enough and he needed more than her playing counselor right now. They shared the same faith and yet a pat word of encouragement would never be enough. Ryan needed truth spoken into his life, but even more so, the guy needed peace. She couldn’t give him that. Only God could.

Searching her heart for the right words, she came up with the obvious. Or maybe God did. “No one deserves the gift of salvation, but Jesus died for us anyway so we’d have the right path to forgiveness.”

Ryan turned and stared out of the windshield, past the rivulets of rain running down the glass, past even the driveway that led to a yard spanning the short distance to the lake. Lake Leelanau was shrouded in mist.

Kellie didn’t know what he saw, but she’d guess that he revisited his fiancée’s accident frequently. Her heart twisted.

Gently, she touched his arm. “Group might be the path you need to take in order to forgive yourself.”

His hand covered hers. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” Kellie gave his arm a quick squeeze and noticed the mass of hard strength below layers of jacket and shirt.

Time to leave.

She made a move toward the door but Ryan held fast to her hand, stalling her. “You’re easy to talk to, did you know that?”

Considering the line of work she’d chosen, she hoped so. Considering the nice warm feel of Ryan’s hand on her own, she needed to get out of there fast.

“Thanks.” She pulled free and opened the passenger side door. A blast of damp cold air was exactly what she needed.

“Thanks for the ride and the hot chocolate. I can get my bike from here.”

The last part fell on deaf ears. Ryan was already out of his vehicle. He hopped up into the long bed of his truck as if the high height were nothing and handed down her bike.

Kellie took it, careful not to look into the trap of his eyes. “Thanks again.”

“See you around, Kellie.”

She waved, still not looking at him. She hoped she didn’t see Ryan around. In fact, she’d be much safer if she never saw him again.

* * *

The following week, while sitting in group listening to others share some frighteningly personal stuff, Ryan remembered his promise to Kellie. He’d try. He’d even prayed for patience through this whole group therapy thing. Bottom line, he couldn’t go on like he had. Isolated in his grief, he needed something more than beer to get through the empty nights.

He’d started his required community service hours working on the house for a single mom in Sinclair’s church. It helped. Now that he’d finished renovating his own place, he didn’t like being home alone with little left to do and nothing but empty time on his hands. Time to think too much. Time to miss Sara.

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Running his hands through his hair, he nearly groaned. He was tired of being alone.

“Ryan? You okay?” John Thompson directed the group’s attention toward him after a silent pause between clients.

“Yeah.” It came out gravelly and raw.

That was so not true. He felt like he was breaking into pieces. Pieces he couldn’t glue back together. His stomach tightened and he suddenly felt like he might pass out. Sweat beaded across his forehead as his heart raced with the prompting to be honest. Come clean and be honest.

“No, I’m not.”

“You want to talk about it.” John leaned back in his chair, clipboard in hand, ready to take notes.

Ryan’s throat threatened to close up on him. “Not really.”

“We can wait. Take your time.”

Fighting against the quaking going on inside of him only made it worse. His eyes filled with tears, but he vowed he’d choke before he cried. “I—ah...”

He felt a hand briefly touch his shoulder. The woman with the tattoos. Jess was her name, and he’d been blown away by the harsh story of her life. Humbled.

If she could do this, so could he. “I need help.”

* * *

Kellie left the elementary school where she worked part-time as a teacher’s aide in her niece’s class. She slipped behind the wheel of her recently repaired but ancient car and smiled when it started right up.

The repair bill was not as steep as she expected. That had been a huge blessing. Someday, she’d buy a new car. If she got the school counselor job in Traverse City it might even be sooner than someday.

It took less than ten minutes to reach LightHouse Center across town. She’d left a book in her office that she needed to study for her looming certification test.

Kellie pulled into the parking lot and her stomach dropped like a stone thrown in water when she spotted Ryan’s pickup. She’d forgotten that he had group on Tuesdays. One of the two days that Kellie did not intern.

She checked her watch. They might not be done for a bit yet, so the coast was clear if she moved quickly. If she grabbed her book and ran.

Slipping into the lobby, Kellie gave the receptionist a wave. Marci, on the phone, waved back. Kellie made her way down the hall and into her tiny office. The book she needed lay open on her desk, right where she’d left it.

Snatching it up, she cradled the weighty text against her chest and headed for the door of her office. The telltale sounds of a group session breaking up made her move faster, but she wasn’t fast enough. Clients spilled out of the group session room down the hall and Ryan was one of them.

Too late. He noticed her and nodded.

One look at Ryan and Kellie couldn’t make her feet move. He’d been through the emotional wringer if his messy hair and red eyes were any indication. Trapped by the troubled look in his dark gaze, she backed against the wall to let people by. He seemed like he might want to talk to her.

She was floored by how badly she wanted to talk to him.

“Hey.” His voice sounded raw and scratchy.

“You okay?” It slipped out before Kellie could catch it.

He stepped closer to let others pass them, and she inhaled sharply. Ryan smelled warm and spicy and distinctly male.

He cleared his throat, but his voice remained low and soft. “Step one. I’m powerless against this grief.”

Kellie almost reached out to touch him. Almost. She clutched her book tighter instead. “That’s good.”

He hadn’t said alcohol, but then that wasn’t the only issue. Kellie believed Ryan had tried to numb his pain instead of dealing with it. He’d finally admitted defeat, and that was the starting point toward healing. The first step in recovery. She felt proud. For him.

“Yeah. We’ll see.” Ryan’s gaze dropped to her hands. “You’ve got your car back.”

Kellie realized her keys dangled from her fingers. “Yep.”

“No more riding in the rain.” Was that disappointment she heard in his voice?

“No more riding in the rain.” Kellie shook her head. No more rides needed from Ryan. Then she laughed. “I thank God for the good weather we had after that day.”

He shifted his stance. “So, uh, would you be up for a cup of coffee somewhere?”

Kellie’s stomach flipped. He wasn’t really asking her out. Ryan wanted to process what he’d just gone through in group. He’d said she was easy to talk to. That’s all it was. That’s all it could be.

But that was enough to get her in trouble if she accepted. She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Yeah, I know.” He pulled a white envelope out of his pocket. “Look, I don’t want this.”

Her eyes widened in panic. It was the fifty bucks she’d put in his mailbox. “Don’t even think about it,” she hissed. “Don’t you dare.”

He cocked his head like she’d gone crazy.

Kellie glanced down the hallway toward the group session room. Folks still mingled. She looked the other way and spotted Ginny watching them. Her breathing hitched.

Great. Kellie inched away from the wall. “Okay then, nice to see you, Ryan.”

His eyes narrowed, but then he nodded like he’d gotten the message. “You, too.”

Kellie’s heart beat madly in her ears as she watched Ryan walk away. She couldn’t breathe right. Not yet. Not with Ginny coming toward her.

“Hey, Ginny.”

The woman’s eyebrows lifted. “What was that?”

Kellie ignored the question and raised the text in her arms. “I forgot my book.”

“Come in a minute.” Ginny nodded toward her office.

Kellie’s stomach sank to the soles of her boots, but she followed her mentor. Ignoring the itchy feeling that skittered up her spine when Ginny closed the door, Kellie asked, “What’s up?”

“Be careful there, Kellie. Be very careful.”

Kellie couldn’t play dumb. Her mentor would see right through it and think less of her for doing so. She rubbed her temples. “I know.”

“So, what’s the deal with you and this guy?”

“Nothing. He was telling me how group went for him tonight. That’s all.”

Kellie didn’t dare admit to the rides Ryan had given her or that he’d asked her out for coffee. If Ginny blew her in to John, she could be fired. And that would be the end of her internship, and the chance for the Traverse City school counselor job.

“Keep it professional.”

“Absolutely.” Kellie breathed a little easier, but not much.

Ginny watched her too closely for comfort.

She knew.

Kellie had to get out of there fast before she admitted to the attraction she felt for Ryan. Ginny had that kind of influence on people. She got them to reveal their inner most feelings with one look, but Kellie was in no mood for confessions. “I gotta run. See you tomorrow.”

“Remember what I said.” Ginny used her motherly tone, the one that brooked no argument.

“I will. Thanks.” Kellie stuffed her nervousness down deep with a roll of her shoulders and hightailed it out of there.

Was the draw she felt toward Ryan plain to see? If so, she had some work to do controlling her reactions.

Better yet, Kellie needed to stay far away from Ryan Marsh before she lost everything she’d worked hard for.