Читать книгу Protecting the Widow's Heart - Lorraine Beatty - Страница 11

Chapter Two

The smell of fresh coffee permeated the cabin. Ginger had awakened rested and fortified to face the day ahead. It had been a long time since she’d had a good night’s sleep, but last night she’d slept like a log, waking way later than her normal time. Maybe it was the profound quiet of the lakeside cabin, free from sirens and backfiring cars and all the unknown sounds that came with living in a low-rent apartment complex.

She poured a cup of coffee and spooned in a little cream and sugar. Elliot was still asleep, which gave her a rare and welcome quiet time to think and plan her next move. Moving to the expansive windows, she gazed out at the lake, now sparkling with sunlight. The old oak trees with their gnarled limbs, heavy with Spanish moss, painted a picture of serenity that beckoned her weary soul.

Grabbing a throw from the sofa, she headed out to the deck, removed the plastic covers from the wooden rockers and curled up, draping the throw across her lap. The air was chilly, but the knitted cover provided plenty of warmth. January in Mississippi was something she could get used to.

Another sip of coffee relaxed her enough to let go of her worries for a moment and take in the view. Below the deck the lawn sloped down to the water’s edge. A long, sturdy pier stretched out into the lake. Trees hid the Coopers’ cabin from view on one side. It was easy to imagine she was all alone on the lake. As her gaze traveled to the opposite side of the property, she saw the covered boat slip and the small shed attached. Was that the boathouse the owner had mentioned? It was tiny, too small to house a bed, she was sure.

The man—Durrant—was a good six feet tall. He must have been cramped in the little shed. He’d be eager to sleep in his own bed tonight, and she couldn’t blame him. She and Elliot would have to find another place to go. Someplace cheap. But that still left the question of car repairs. She hoped it would be something simple like a battery or fan belt. Anything more she couldn’t afford. Her gaze drifted back to the view, allowing her worries to slip into the back of her mind once more. Her soul craved peace like a thirsty sponge. She needed to fill up while she had the opportunity.

Movement near the water’s edge drew her attention. Mr. Durrant was seated in one of the Adirondack chairs tucked between the trees. He stood, rolling his shoulders backward a couple of times, then reaching down to rub the side of one leg. Picking up a thick book from the arm of the chair, he started up the yard toward the cabin. He moved with a fluid, athletic grace, his long stride propelling him forward, but with a slight limp that piqued her curiosity and her compassion.

She was struck once again by his height. Perhaps the limp was due to sleeping in the small boathouse. The least she could do was offer him a fresh cup of coffee. He’d been generous about letting them remain in the cabin last night. He could easily have ordered them out. She stood and moved to the railing, hoping to draw his attention. He stopped and glanced up at her with an expectant expression.

She hadn’t realized what an attractive man he was last night. Her first impression hadn’t been good. He’d been a tall, angry man threatening her world. Today he looked friendly and approachable. “I have coffee made, if you’d like a cup.”

A small smile moved his lips. “I’ll be right up.”

She was pulling a clean mug from the cupboard when he tapped on the door. She motioned him in.

“That smells great. I tried to make coffee in the boathouse, but the pot is useless. Looks like some rodent chewed through the cord.” He placed the thick book he carried at the end of the island.

The dark jeans and brown sweater he’d worn last night had been replaced with gray sweatpants and matching hooded jacket over a faded maroon college T-shirt. He was taller than she remembered, too. The angry expression was now relaxed and friendly, prompting her regrets again. “I’m sorry you had to sleep in that tiny boathouse. I’m sure it was uncomfortable.”

He looked at her over the rim of his cup. “No. It’s actually bigger than you’d expect. You’ll have to come and take a look. No one stays there anymore, so it’s not as well equipped as the cabin. How did you sleep?”

“Better than I’d expected, considering.”

“Considering?”

Ginger clutched her mug between her hands. “We’re uninvited guests. I’m sure you’re eager to have your cabin to yourself. As soon as I can make other arrangements, we’ll be gone. I just don’t know how long that will take.”

“Yeah, well, we need to talk about that. Why don’t we go out on the deck and sort this out?”

Her heart contracted. He was going to ask them to go. He’d be nice about it, but the end result would be the same. Homeless, broke and alone. Out on the deck, Ginger found the temperature had risen, and she no longer needed the throw. She took a seat in the rocker. Durrant pulled up the other one, angling it so they could talk.

She stole a quick look at him. He was a handsome man with thick brown hair that spilled over his forehead in an unruly fashion. But it was his eyes that captivated her. The bluest, clearest eyes she’d ever seen. Like a summer sky. With long lashes above high cheekbones, the angular, masculine planes of his face were softened by full lips and a chin with a slight cleft.

Despite his attractiveness, he appeared a bit gaunt, as if his frame was used to carrying more weight. The deep creases on either side of his mouth looked as if they’d been carved from pain rather than laughter. Her curiosity grew.

“Nels said your car won’t start. How did you end up here at the cabins? Few people wander this far from the park or campgrounds.”

Ginger quickly explained the circumstances.

“Arizona. That’s still a few days’ drive from here.”

“I know. I need to be there by the end of next week at the latest. My mother has a job lined up for me. I’m hoping the car will be fixed quickly.”

“Zeke Owens runs the best garage in town. And he’s honest. He won’t steer you wrong.”

“That’s good to know, but that’s not my main concern.” No need to be coy. The situation was too dire. “Mr. Durrant, I need to be honest with you. I’m in no position to pay you back for the use of your cabin. In fact, I have no idea how I’ll pay for the car repairs. I have only enough money to get me to my mother’s. If it hadn’t been for Nels offering your place for the night, Elliot and I would have slept in the car.” She braved a look at her host.

“Call me Ty. Mr. Durrant is my dad.”

The kindness and sympathy in his blue eyes sent a funny tingle along her skin. She took a sip of her coffee to collect herself. “Ginger. It’s short for Virginia.”

“There’s no one you can call for help?”

She shook her head. “My mom is on a fixed income. She sent me all she could afford.” She could see the next question forming in the man’s mind and hastened to address it. “My husband died a year ago. It’s only me and Elliot.”

“Mom.” Elliot came onto the deck, hurrying to his mother’s side. “I’m hungry.”

She squeezed his hand, grateful for the interruption. “Good morning, sleepyhead. Well, let’s see what we can do about that.”

* * *

Ty watched mother and child leave the deck, his protective instincts kicking into high gear. Alone and broke. There was no way he’d ask them to leave the cabin now. His heart sank. His prayer time this morning had strengthened him, but it was ebbing away quickly. He needed time to sort out his future. He had a big decision to make, and he couldn’t do that with people in his cabin. But he couldn’t toss them out, either.

Father, what are You doing? I need Your guidance and direction. I need answers.

The grinding of gears and the roar of a diesel engine invaded the quiet morning. Zeke’s tow truck had arrived.

Ty walked to the stairs at the end of the deck in time to see the massive truck backing up toward the small car in front of Nels’s place. He hadn’t noticed the late model sedan last night. Nels was already talking to the driver, so Ty contented himself with watching. The noise must have alerted his guests because they appeared at his side. He couldn’t help but notice the contrast between the shadowed concern in the mother’s pretty eyes and the bright excitement in the boy’s.

“Cool. I want to go see the truck.” Elliot started forward, only to be yanked back by his mother’s firm grasp.

“You’ll do no such thing. Stay right here.”

Ty ruffled the boy’s hair, nodding at Ginger. “Go ahead. We’ll sit here on the steps and watch.” He lowered himself onto the top step, gesturing for the boy to join him.

“But I can’t see from here.”

“Are you kidding?” Ty nudged the boy’s shoulder with his own and grinned. “This is the perfect spot. You can see everything, and you don’t have to breathe in any of those stinky diesel fumes.”

Ty watched the proceedings, unable to take his eyes off Ginger as she went down to talk to Nels and the truck driver. Her body language revealed her distress. Her arms were wrapped around her waist in a protective posture. Several times she reached up to toy with a loose curl that bobbed against her right cheek. Even across the distance he could see her chewing her lip and the deepening frown on her forehead as her car was loaded onto the flatbed to be hauled away.

As she came toward him, he looked into her eyes and saw fear. His throat tightened. He recognized that look. It was the same one he saw in his own eyes each morning. Fear of the future, fear of what the next moment might bring. A fear that held you captive and challenged your belief in yourself and your ability to function. Being shot had left him paralyzed with fear. What had caused Ginger’s?

He cleared his throat so he could speak. “What did he say?”

“Not much. They’ll call when they know what’s wrong. Oh.” Her frown deepened. “My phone is out of minutes. How will they contact me?”

“Don’t worry. They know me. And I’ll check with them.”

“Mom, look. There are ducks out there.”

With the tow truck gone, Elliot had returned to the deck, looking for new diversions. He leaned against the rail and pointed at the lake. Ty joined him. “Would you like to feed them?” The boy turned to look at his mother, his expression filled with hope. Ty smiled at Ginger. She could probably use some time to herself. “I keep feed near the boathouse. I won’t take my eyes off him, and we’ll stay on the pier. Promise.” He saw the hesitation in her eyes and knew the moment she decided he was trustworthy enough for the task.

“All right.”

* * *

Ginger finished cleaning up the kitchen, then went out onto the deck to check on her son. She’d taken advantage of Ty’s offer to help Elliot feed the ducks to grab a shower and straighten up. Leaning against the deck railing, she smiled at the sight of her son tossing food into the water. His giggles lifted on the morning air, landing in the middle of her heart with a warm swell. Elliot was always so serious. Hearing his laughter was an answer to her prayers—something she was relearning how to do. After years of being angry at the Lord, it wasn’t easy to ask for His guidance. She was making progress. One small prayer at a time.

Another laugh captured her attention. A deep, throaty laugh. Her gaze shifted to Ty Durrant, who was now hunkered down beside her son pointing to the water. Elliot leaned forward. Too far. Ginger started to shout for him to be careful, but before she could speak, Ty took hold of his shirt and eased him back. He glanced up, and his blue gaze collided with hers. He nodded, then tapped her son on his shoulder. Elliot waved and raced toward the cabin.

“Mom! I fed the ducks, and the fish ate some, too. And there’re turtles everywhere.”

Her son’s joy brought tears to her eyes, and a ray of hope to her spirits. Maybe they could find a new beginning. One where joy and laughter ruled, not anger and fear.

Ty came up onto the deck, leaving Elliot in the yard.

“Stay away from the water.”

“I will, Mom. I’m going to look for more turtles.”

Ty joined her at the railing. He’d removed his hooded jacket and pushed up the sleeves of the well-worn maroon T-shirt, revealing strong forearms. A sturdy black watch strapped across his wrist highlighted his nicely sculpted hands. She tore her gaze back to her son. “He shouldn’t be down there alone.”

“He’ll be okay. I told him not to go on the pier without a grown-up. Does he know how to swim?”

“No.”

“Well, the water’s not deep at the edge. A foot or so. Worst he would get is wet and muddy, but I’ll see if I can find a small life vest for him if it’ll make you feel better.”

“It would. He’s all I have left.” She could sense Ty’s probing gaze assessing her.

“He’s a great kid. He reminds me of my nephew. Maybe I’ll get them together soon. Give Elliot someone his age to play with.”

“You have family here?”

Ty smiled and nodded. “I was raised here. My dad owns the local hardware store. My brother and his family live in Dover, and my sister has her own construction company. I’m the only one who lives out of town. And I haven’t been home in a long while.”

“I’m sure they’re glad you’re back now.”

Ty rubbed the side of his neck. “They would be if they knew I was in town.”

Ginger turned to face him. “You didn’t tell them? Why?” He turned away, resting his forearms on the railing and staring out to the water. Obviously he didn’t want to discuss the issue.

“I have things I need to sort out. I can do that best alone.”

“But maybe your family could help.” If only she’d had someone to talk to, to comfort her when she’d felt so abandoned and alone, her world filled with anxiety and hopelessness

Ty shook his head, a slight smile on his face. “My dad would heap advice on my head, my mom would bake a pile of cookies and my brother and sister would harass me beyond endurance. I don’t need that right now.”

A sudden thought erupted in her mind. “You’re not estranged from your family, are you?” She laid her hand on his forearm, acutely aware of the warm strength beneath her fingers and the steady pulsing of the blood through his veins. She told herself to remove her hand, but for some reason she didn’t want to. “Because if there is, you need to sort it out immediately.” Memories of the years separated from her parents because of anger and stupid pride flooded her mind. “Don’t let another day go by, Ty. Don’t waste time on petty grievances and misplaced pride. I know what kind of sorrow that can bring.”

Ty turned to face her, his blue eyes filled with a tenderness she hadn’t expected and didn’t understand. He took her hand in both of his, enfolding her in a sense of warmth and security.

“I’m not at odds with my family, Ginger. I love them. I depend on them.”

“So why don’t you want them to know you’re in town?”

He released her, turning to stare at the lake again. “Because what I have to decide, I have to do alone. My family knows my situation, but they can’t help me with this particular problem. There’s only one person who can help me, and so far he hasn’t been forthcoming.”

“Who’s that?”

He grinned, deepening the crevices in his cheek. “The good Lord.”

His words cast a shadow over her mood. “Maybe He’s too busy to listen.”

A frown creased Ty’s forehead, causing a strand of hair to fall over it. “He listens to the prayers of all His children.”

He sounded so confident. But she knew otherwise. “Elliot. Time to come in.” Back inside the cabin, she headed to the kitchen. As she passed the island, she spotted the book she’d seen Ty reading earlier. It was a worn leather Bible. Why hadn’t God listened to her prayers?

Ty entered the cabin with Elliot at his side. “I’m heading to town shortly. Would you and Elliot like to tag along? We can stock up on supplies and check in with Zeke to see if he has a diagnosis on your car yet.”

She wanted to find out about her car, but the thought of leaving the safety of the cabin, putting herself into unknown situations, talking to strangers, triggered all her old fears. She knew it was cowardly, but she couldn’t help it. “No. I have things to do here. Besides, I want to wait for the call.”

She reached for her cell phone, only to remember it was out of minutes. She needed time alone to gather her strength for what was to come. She thought about what Ty had said, about him needing alone time. That was something they had in common. But she had to have a phone. There was only one other solution—swallow her pride and ask for help. She’d done that already when she’d contacted her mother after a nine-year silence. Apparently, she’d have to swallow a lot more until she could get to her mom’s and start fresh. “Could I ask you for a favor?”

“Name it.”

“Could you have my phone loaded with more minutes? If you’ll bring me the receipt, I’ll pay you back.”

“Sure. Hey, I just remembered. I have an old plug-in phone around here someplace, and the cabin’s wired for it.” He moved to the cabinet under the television, then to a lower drawer in the kitchen, finally pulling out a landline phone. He carried it to the end table and plugged it into the phone jack in the wall. “I can call you on this if I need to. I’ll give the number to the garage, too.”

“Thank you.” He seemed to think of everything. “I appreciate that.”

* * *

Ty pulled his vehicle into an empty parking space in front of the Dover city government complex, turned off the engine and hopped out. His gaze fell on the items piled to the roof in the back of his SUV. If his instincts were correct, this was the sum total of Ginger and Elliot’s possessions. His stomach turned queasy. They truly were homeless.

When he’d stopped by Zeke’s earlier to check on Ginger’s car, he’d noticed all the boxes and bags stuffed in the trunk and the backseat. He doubted anyone would mess with their belongings while at the shop, but better safe than sorry. He’d transferred it all to his car, intending to store it in one of the cabinets below the cabin until she left. Which, according to Zeke, might be a while. The car was in bad shape. The preliminary once-over indicated a transmission problem, which always meant big bucks.

Ty had made Zeke promise to call him first with the final assessment. Hopefully, he could find a way to tell Ginger, or better yet, have an alternative plan in place. He wanted to know what had happened to land them in this situation, but even in the short time he’d known them, it was clear that Ginger Sloan wasn’t one who accepted help easily.

Crossing the parking lot, he pulled open the glass door and stepped inside the sprawling building that housed the police department and other city offices. The modern facility was a new addition since he’d been home last.

His main reason for stopping by was to check in with the local police, let them know another officer was in town. Technically, since he was on medical leave, he had no authority here in Dover, but it was common courtesy to make his presence known. More importantly, he wanted to see his old mentor, Chief Brady Reynolds.

Inside the building, Ty glanced around, getting his bearings. The reception area was large and spacious with several rows of chairs for waiting, many of them occupied. The information desk consisted of a large window above a wide counter. A hallway to the right extended the length of the building. Signs placed perpendicular to the doors directed residents to various departments. The sign above the hall to the left designated the police department.

Ty started toward the information window as two uniformed Dover police officers strode into the reception room and toward the front door. A cold vise clamped around his heart. A knot the size of a football formed in his gut. He started to sweat, his hands balling into tight fists at his side.

His mind struggled to process what he was seeing. People moving about. Phones ringing in the background. The tension and activity of a city complex. All of it so familiar. While he’d never worked as a police officer here in Dover, all stations had the same feeling for him. Home. Where he belonged. Now being here filled him with doubt and fear and feelings of failure and guilt. He willed himself to get control. He hadn’t anticipated this kind of reaction.

Forcing a few deep breaths, he fought back the fear and moved forward to the man seated at the information desk. “I’d like to see Chief Reynolds, please.”

The man eyed him closely. Did he look as freaked out as he felt?

“Name?”

“Ty...” If he gave his last name, his family would hear about it before he could blink. “Just tell him Ty is here. He’ll know.”

After a quickly placed call, the man leaned forward and gestured to the right. “Down that hall. First door on the left.”

With each step down the tiled hallway, Ty’s anxiety grew. It was always like this. One minute he was fine, the next he was caught in a tidal wave of emotion he couldn’t control. Maybe, once he’d made his decision, these anxiety attacks would disappear.

Chief Brady Reynolds met him at his office door. “Well, this is a nice surprise. I saw your dad this morning, and he never said a word about you being home.” Reynolds shook Ty’s hand and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder before pulling him into the office and closing the door. He sat down behind his desk, gesturing for Ty to be seated.

Ty eased into the chair, grimacing at a sudden stitch in his side. “That’s because the family doesn’t know I’m here.”

Brady drew his eyebrows together. “You don’t say. Is there a reason for that?”

Exhaling a heavy sigh, Ty lifted one shoulder. “I need time to sort things out. I can’t do that if they’re hovering all the time.”

“I understand. So, what brings you here?”

His mentor’s easy manner and warm smile chased away the last of Ty’s anxiety attack. “I just wanted to check in, let you know I’m in town. In case you need the assistance of a big-city cop. Someone with real experience.”

Reynolds smiled at the teasing dig. “What I need is an officer who loves the town.” Brady grunted and leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk. “This little visit have anything to do with the shooting?”

One of the reasons Ty had come to see his old mentor was his directness. He never beat around the bush. “Yeah. It does.”

“How’s that going? You look good.”

Ty crossed his legs. “Physically, I’m almost back to normal. I need to build up my strength, but in another month or so I’ll be good as new.”

“And the emotional part?”

The scar on his neck started to itch. “Lousy. The shrink suggested I go someplace quiet to think things through. That’s why I came here.” The chief studied him a long moment.

“Ty, when an officer gets shot, it’s not just the trauma to the body that has to heal, but the trauma to the spirit, as well. The ordeal can force an officer to accept that he’s mortal, that a gun and a badge doesn’t make him invincible. He may wonder if he can still do his job.”

“And if he can’t?”

“There are plenty of other law enforcement jobs besides walking a beat or investigating crimes. More money in the private sector, too.” He leaned back, making the leather chair creak softly. “I had a tough time after my shooting. It was a simple flesh wound, but I doubted my abilities, and my sanity, at one point. I seriously considered putting the badge down forever.”

That option was the last one Ty wanted to consider. “How did you get past it?”

“Prayer and determination.” He smiled. “Ty, I’ve known you since you were a teen, and I know you’ve wanted to be a cop your entire life. If ever the Lord created a man to be a police officer, it’s you. Give yourself time. The Lord will give you the answer, but in His time, and when He’s ready and everything is in place.”

Ty mulled over his friend’s words a short while later as he picked up a new prepaid phone for Ginger, then headed for his parents’ home. While he appreciated Brady’s confidence in him, it didn’t change the fact that Ty was in the grip of fear and guilt he didn’t know how to conquer.

Pulling into the driveway, he sat behind the wheel a moment, reluctant to face his mom. He’d chosen to come here while his dad was at the store. He could only deal with one parent at a time. Angie Durrant was standing in front of the sink when he entered. She glanced up and froze. Her face paled a moment, then brightened with a wide smile and moist eyes.

“Ty. Oh, sweetheart, what a wonderful surprise.” She wrapped him in a tight hug. “How are you? Are you all right?”

Ty nodded and stepped back. “Fine, Mom. All healed up.”

“I wish you would have warned me you were coming. I could have had your room all ready for you. It won’t take but a minute to freshen it up.” She started to turn away, but he caught her arm.

“Mom, I’m not staying here. I’m staying at the cabin. I got in late last night.” The look of hurt and disappointment on her face wounded him. “I need time to think about what I’m going to do next, Mom. I have to decide if I’m going to stay on the force or look into another line of work.”

She nodded. “I see. Well, you know if there’s anything you need, your father and I are always here for you.”

“I know, Mom, and that’s one of the reasons I’m here.” He took a seat at the kitchen island. “I have a problem I may need your help with. There’s a woman and her son at my cabin.” His mother’s eyes widened, and he quickly explained.

“Oh, the poor thing. What can we do to help?”

“I don’t know yet. But I was thinking of maybe buying them plane tickets so they could go to her mother’s.”

“We can certainly handle that.” She reached across the table and patted his hand. “Let us know when you decide what you want to do for them.”

“I will.” He stood and prepared to leave. “I’d like to bring them to church tomorrow, then come back here for dinner, if that’s okay.”

“Of course. I’m anxious to meet them.” She followed him to the door, laying a hand on his arm. “Son, I want to help you. It hurts me to see you this way.”

“I know. But I have to figure this out on my own, Mom. Don’t worry. The Lord and I are working on it. I know He has a plan. He just hasn’t told me what it is yet.”