Читать книгу Protecting the Widow's Heart - Lorraine Beatty - Страница 12

Chapter Three

Ginger dug out the box of small metal cars from the satchel containing Elliot’s toys. “Found them.” Her shout brought her son dashing into the bedroom.

“Thanks. I’m going to take them to the dirt pile. It’ll make good ramps. They’ll shoot way up in the air.” He demonstrated with his hands and made a gershing sound through his teeth.

“What dirt pile?”

“The one down by the other deck.”

“Other deck?” Granted, they’d only been at this cabin less than twenty-four hours, but her son had discovered every nook and cranny. All she’d experienced was the cabin and the deck. Maybe after lunch, she’d explore the grounds. She’d been longing to walk out onto the pier and maybe even sit in one of the inviting Adirondack chairs under the trees. The weather was cool today, but nothing like what she’d left behind in Connecticut in early January.

“I think you’d better drive your cars on the deck for now. I’m going to fix lunch, then you can show me all the things you’ve discovered.”

It took only a second in the kitchen to realize Ty had forgotten to bring back the only loaf of bread. A quick search of the rest of the food revealed little else for a meal. While there were various options, each required an ingredient that was missing. Ty had been wise to suggest a trip to the grocery store. Maybe she should have gone along. At least then she could have picked up things her son would eat. Which mainly consisted of cereal, hot dogs and canned spaghetti. And of course, peanut butter and jelly.

Another thought leaped into her mind, sending her reaching for the notepad on the counter. She had to start a list of the money she owed Ty Durrant. Lodging, food, laundry detergent—she’d tossed in their dirty clothes this morning. Phone. She guessed at the amounts. Once she had some receipts, she could make a more accurate tally.

But in the meantime, no bread. The boathouse. Maybe she could go and get it. Or was that invading his privacy? She walked out to the deck. “Elliot, how does soup sound for lunch?”

“Yuck.”

No surprise there. “Ty forgot to return the loaf of bread. Do you know if he locks the boathouse?” He shrugged, not taking his eyes from the caravan of tiny cars he was creating on the planked deck.

“Okay. Well, I’m going to go see. You want to come?”

“Nope.”

Great. If she was going to break into Ty’s place, she’d be all alone. Her heart pounded as she crossed the yard. What if he came home and found her there? Not good. It was only a loaf of bread. No big deal. Then again, look what stealing a loaf of bread had done to Jean Valjean.

The closer she came to the boathouse, the larger it appeared. She stepped onto the narrow wooden walkway connecting the covered boat slip with the house. Two large windows on either side of the door were coated with grime. The place was old and rickety, but a good size. Standing here now, she decided that maybe Ty wasn’t as cramped as she’d assumed.

Swallowing her doubts, she reached out and turned the knob, startled when the door swung open of its own accord. She peeked in, surprised to find the place nothing as she expected. The boathouse was one large room. A twin bed tucked in an alcove against the back wall was unmade. Beside it an open door revealed a small bathroom. A tiny kitchen, consisting of little more than a sink and a counter with a small fridge tucked beneath, took up one wall. The opposite wall held shelves behind a rickety vinyl recliner that was probably one of the first ones ever invented. A small table with an out-of-date television completed the decor.

She exhaled. Well, she could quit worrying about Ty’s comfort. The place might be small, musty and very old, but he had everything he needed. Her gaze traveled to the duffel bag partially open on the floor. T-shirts and white socks poked out the top. The dark jeans he’d worn last night were in a heap beside it. The sweats he’d worn this morning were tossed across the foot of the bed.

The intimacy of his personal things sent heated embarrassment into her cheeks. She’d come for the bread, not to snoop. Spinning around, she scanned the small kitchen, finding the loaf of bread on the counter near the coffeepot. Grabbing it up, she hurried out, shutting the door firmly behind her.

After lunch, Elliot gave her a tour of the grounds around the cabin, from the large lower deck with a hot tub to the pier and the boat slip and the picnic table nestled beneath a large oak tree draped with moss. The pleasant weather was the perfect invitation to take a walk along the pathway that followed the banks of the lake.

When they returned to the cabin, Elliot opted to stay in the yard and look for turtles while Ginger went inside to wait for the call from the garage. She’d planned on staying close to the phone, but her time with her son was too important to miss. The phone rang as she walked into the living room. Her stomach tightened as she lifted the receiver.

“This is Jeb from Owens Automotive Repair.”

She struggled to find her voice. “What’s the verdict about my car?” As she listened to the man’s report, her knees buckled, sending her sinking onto the sofa. “Thank you. I’ll let you know what I decide to do.”

She hung up the phone and buried her face in her hands. Twenty-five hundred dollars. Where was she going to get that kind of money for a new transmission? It would take months to save it up, provided she had a job. Which she didn’t. Where would they go now? What would happen to them?

Standing, she anxiously paced around the room, her thoughts flying in a dozen directions. Maybe her mother could get a loan. She certainly couldn’t. She’d sold everything she’d had to pay off the last of John’s medical bills, and her credit rating was shameful.

The room grew stuffy. She needed air to breath. Hurrying out onto the deck, her gaze searched out her son playing contentedly under the trees, then to the lake moving gently against the wind. For a few short hours today, she’d found peace. A cozy cabin, a serene view, people who took care of her. But now it was all gone. She was alone and on her own again, struggling to survive.

Her knees buckled, and she sank into the rocker, scraping her fingertips along her scalp. Tears spilled onto her cheeks, and she was too overwhelmed to fight them. Drawing her knees against her chest, she lowered her head and cried.

She had only herself to blame. She’d tipped the first domino over ten years ago, and the long row had been falling at a steady pace ever since. One disaster after another. One scary event after the next. Her life was one big ball of fearful anticipation. She was tired and alone. No one to help. No one to count on. She’d pinned all her hopes on getting to her mom’s, and now that was lost, too.

Now another disaster. Debt and its inevitable consequences. The phone calls, the juggling of money, the worry, the stress. She’d sworn she would never go there again. But here she was. Trapped. Not only did she owe for car repairs, but she owed Ty for staying in his cabin. Plus the food they’d eaten, her new phone and whatever else he might want to charge her for.

Closing her eyes, she thought about her mother and how easily she’d forgiven her for the years she’d ignored her parents. Her sweet forgiveness and love had lifted a cloud from her mind. Her mom had told her God had brought them together again. In the four months since they’d reconnected, Ginger had found herself slowly turning back toward her faith.

But she still found it difficult to trust the Lord completely. She had nowhere else to turn. Oh, Lord. Please. I need help. I don’t think I can do this anymore.

* * *

Ty heard the sobbing the moment he set foot on the deck. He set the bag of groceries onto the patio table and hurried toward Ginger, who was huddled in the rocker, shoulders shaking with her weeping. He hunkered down beside her, uncertain whether to touch her or not. Her sobs were so heart-wrenching he had to risk it. He laid his hand on her arm. “What’s wrong? What happened? Are you all right? Did something happen to Elliot?” He glanced quickly around and saw the boy playing happily in the yard.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Quickly he stood and pulled up the other rocker as close to Ginger as possible. He was at a loss to know how to proceed. He was trained to handle every kind of situation, but a weeping, incoherent female left him stumped. “Ginger. Please, tell me what happened. Maybe I can help.”

She shook her head, refusing to look at him. “No one can help.”

He stroked her hair, marveling at its softness and the way the waves curled around his fingers. “Okay, then. Tell me why no one can help, so I can cry with you.” That got a response. She lifted her head and met his gaze. Her green eyes were swollen and red, her cheeks puffy and wet, but she looked adorable, and he fought the urge to pull her to him.

“You? Cry? Right.” She lifted the edge of her long shirt, wiped at her eyes, then looked around.

“You might be surprised.” He figured she was looking for a tissue, so he hurried into the house and grabbed a paper towel. What would she say if he admitted that he’d shed enough tears these past few months to fill Shiloh Lake? “Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

He gave her a few minutes to collect herself. “So, care to tell me what’s wrong?”

She sniffed and dabbed at her nose. “They called about my car. It’s going to cost over two thousand dollars to fix.”

Ty exhaled a frustrated sigh. “They were supposed to call me first. I was hoping to avoid you hearing the news that way.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t pay for it. I don’t have that kind of money.”

“I know. But I have a suggestion if you’ll hear me out.” She glanced at him, a wary look in her moist green eyes. “I talked to my mom, and we’d like to give you plane tickets to get to your mother’s.”

The wariness in her eyes changed instantly to lightning-laced fury. She bolted up from the chair. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Why? I thought you were anxious to get to Arizona.”

“I am. But not by going into debt.”

“You wouldn’t have to pay me back anytime soon. Never, actually.”

“No. I can take care of myself. It’s taken me two years to get out from under my husband’s medical bills— thousands of dollars.” She bit her lip. “I will never go into debt for anything or anyone again.”

She wrapped one arm across her waist. The other reached up to tug on the curl at her cheek. A habit he was coming to find endearing.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but, no, thank you. I’ll figure something out. I’ll get a job. Find a place to stay. It might take me a few months to pay for the repairs, though.”

“Okay.” She wasn’t thinking logically right now. “How do you plan on getting to and from this job if you find one?”

“I’ll get a place in town. Near my work so I can walk.”

“Ginger, those places are very expensive, even in a small town like Dover, and the ones close to town that you could afford aren’t in the best neighborhoods.”

“We’re used to that.” She turned and walked into the cabin, leaving him with more questions than answers. His detective instincts were raging. There was a lot more to Ginger’s story than she was telling, and he wanted to know everything. How could he help her if he didn’t know what he was dealing with?

He wanted to talk to her more, but maybe giving her a little space would be wiser. Remembering the groceries on the table, he went down to the car for the rest. She couldn’t turn away a man with arms full of food. He’d store her belongings later.

The door to the cabin was open, so he angled his body to allow for the bags in his hands, piling them onto the island. Ginger turned and leaned against the sink, her arms crossed over her chest. “That’s enough food for a year.”

“I’m a growing boy. I need to eat.” He pulled her new phone from his pocket. “I got you a new disposable. It was quicker. Plus this one has a few more gadgets on it. It’s already activated and ready to go.”

She took it slowly from his hand, as if reluctant to accept his gesture. “Thank you.”

“I also brought your belongings back here. I didn’t feel right leaving them in the car. We can store them in the shed below the cabin for now. That way you’ll have access to them whenever you need something.

She glanced up at him, her eyes moist, her lips folded together. “I stole your bread.”

“What?”

“I needed to fix Elliot lunch, so I went to your room and stole back the bread.”

The guilty look on her face was comical and sweet all at the same time. He burst out laughing. The reaction surprised him because it had been many months since he’d laughed. It felt good. “It wasn’t my bread. Technically, it belonged to Nels, but he gave it to you so...you’re good. No arrest warrant will be issued.”

A small smile moved her lips. “Thank you.” She reached into a grocery bag, pulling out the jar of peanut butter and placing it in the cupboard. Ty followed her lead. Silently they worked together, putting all the food away. When he felt she was calmer, he decided to approach her again about her future.

“Ginger, don’t give up hope. We’ll find a solution. My family knows everyone in Dover. If you’re serious about a job, we’ll find one. As for a place to live, you can stay here as long as you like. Rent-free.” She started to protest, but he held up his hand. “The place is paid for, and it sits empty most of the time. There’s always an answer to our problems. It’ll all work out.” The urge to hug her overwhelmed him. Time to put some distance between himself and his lovely tenant.

“I think I’ll go find Elliot and teach him how to fish. We’ll be down on the pier. Take some time to clear your head.” He smiled, hoping to give her some encouragement, then left the cabin. He had to find a solution, some way to help without stepping on her considerable pride. He wanted to know what had brought her to this desperate situation. But until she was ready to confide in him, there was little he could do but make himself available.

* * *

Ginger removed the chicken from the pan, placing the steamed pieces on the cutting board. With the wide variety of food Ty had purchased, she’d be able to prepare healthy meals for the next month. Tonight she’d chosen to make a simple chicken-and-noodle casserole. Quick, easy and filling. She wasn’t sure how Elliot would like it, but it was time he started to broaden his taste buds. He’d be eight in just a few weeks. He was growing up so fast. She and her mother had planned on giving Elliot a big birthday party. But that probably wouldn’t happen now.

Laughter and footsteps sounded at the door as Elliot and Ty entered. Elliot ran toward her, a happy smile on his face. “Mom. I caught five fish. And I caught Barney, too.”

She hugged him to her side. “Barney?”

Elliot pointed to the fish on a stick that usually sat on the dresser in the fish bedroom. Elliot had brought it into the kitchen this morning. “Well, his brother anyway, but I threw him back.”

Ty stopped at the end of the island. The delighted smile on his face made his blue eyes sparkle. His straight white teeth flashed against his tanned skin and deepened the creases that bracketed his mouth. She had to force herself to look away. There was something solid and dependable about Ty Durrant. Helping others seemed to come naturally to him.

“He’s going to be a good fisherman. He picked it up like he was born to it. Did he and his father fish together?”

Her warm feelings faded. “No. Never.”

“Mom, I have a new name. Ty gave it to me.”

“Oh? You mean like a nickname?”

“Yeah. It’s EJ. Isn’t that cool?”

“How did you come up with that?”

“Ty asked me about my middle name, and I told him it was Joseph, and he said EJ sounded more grown up than Elliot.”

Ty wiped a hand across the side of his neck, a sheepish look on his face. “I hope that was okay.”

Her heart swelled with appreciation. How could she object? He’d made her son feel special. “It’s fine. Really. I’m fixing a chicken casserole for supper. You’re welcome to stay.”

“Thanks, but on one condition. I help with the meal.”

“You cook?”

Ty grinned and walked around the counter to where the cutting board lay. “I know my way around the kitchen. Surprised?”

“Yes. I figured a bachelor like you would eat everything out of a microwave or a fast-food place.”

“Guilty on all counts. At least for a while. But that got old. Mom taught each of us kids to cook the basics. Once I started experimenting, I discovered it was a great stress reliever, and I actually enjoyed it.” He leaned one hip against the counter and spread his hands. “So, show me where to start.”

With Ty’s help, the meal was ready quickly. Elliot, who insisted he be called by his new nickname, even declared the casserole “good.” High praise from her picky eater. Given the Bible she’d seen this morning, she’d expected Ty to offer a blessing, but he merely closed his eyes briefly before eating. His consideration left her feeling ashamed. Her mother had been saddened when she’d learned Ginger had ignored her faith, but John had scoffed at those who followed organized religion. It had been easier to go along with his wishes. Her greatest regret was that she’d never taken EJ to church.

Ty kept the conversation going during the meal with bigger and more outrageous tales of his days spent at the cabin growing up. As Ginger carried the dishes to the kitchen, she tried to recall the last time she and her son had enjoyed such a happy, relaxed meal. She couldn’t.

Ty came to her side and turned on the faucet, rinsing the dishes, then handing them to her to place in the dishwasher, as if cleaning up was expected of him. “You’re pretty handy in the kitchen. Tomorrow night, you can cook.”

He smiled at her. “Actually, tomorrow is already taken care of. I have an invitation for you. I’d like to take you and EJ to church in the morning.”

His invitation caught her off guard. The thought of church filled her with anxious dread—like being called into the principal’s office for misbehaving. She was still sorting through all her feelings, reaching out tentative fingers to touch the Lord again. “I couldn’t impose.”

“It’s not an imposition.”

Ginger didn’t want to appear rude. Ty had done so much for them already, but she wasn’t strong enough to face the Lord’s disapproval yet. “We’ll be fine here.”

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t press the issue. “Church was only half of the invitation. You’re invited to my parents’ home after the service for dinner. My mother has sent her personal request. She’s anxious to meet you and EJ.”

“I don’t know.”

Ty tilted his head and smiled. “I promise you’ll get a real feast. Plus, we can all put our heads together and come up with job ideas. I know EJ would love to play with my nephew, Kenny.”

“Please, Mom. Ty says Kenny is fun. I want a friend to play with.”

Dinner with Ty’s family? Not a good idea. She had to keep her walls up. She couldn’t withstand any more emotional upheaval, like making connections she’d have to sever soon. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on. It’s only dinner.”

He just didn’t understand. She had to stay focused on her goal. All she wanted was to get out of Dover and to Arizona. Then she and Elliot could put the past few years behind them and start over.

“Mom?”

The excitement in her son’s eyes was so wonderful to see, it weakened her resolve. Ty had a point. It was only dinner, and it would do Elliot good to have a friend to play with. “All right.”

Ty and EJ exchanged fist bumps with explosions.

“Time to get ready for bed, Elliot. Go get your bath.”

EJ’s shoulders slumped, and he uttered a long, low groan. “A bath? Do I have to?”

His pitiful plea didn’t faze her. “Yes. That means washing your hair, too.”

“Mom.”

“Go. You can watch television in your room for a while if you hurry. I’ll even bring you some hot chocolate if you get really clean.”

“TV? Really? Cool.”

Ginger offered an explanation to Ty, who looked puzzled by EJ’s excitement over the TV. “We haven’t had a television for over a year.”

Ty nodded his understanding, and leaned down to place the last plate into the dishwasher.

Ginger noticed him wince, her gaze landing on his neck and the ugly scar that ran along the side, ending near his collarbone. She sucked in sharply. “Ty? What happened to you?”

He froze in place, then slowly straightened, a strange, forced smile on his face. “I didn’t duck fast enough.”

His flippant remark sparked anger. “What?”

“I was shot.”

Her heart stopped beating. Memories flared. “Why? What happened?”

“My partner and I were caught in an ambush. He died. I took three rounds.”

Her brain was processing the information in slow motion. “Partner?”

“I’m a detective with the Dallas P.D. I’m on medical leave. Recuperating.”

“You’re a policeman?” Her mind recoiled with the knowledge. A man who carried a gun. A man who lived a life of violence. Always in harm’s way. Always on the edge of death. She turned away from him, leaning against the side of the fridge. This couldn’t be happening again.

“Ginger, what’s wrong? Are you all right?”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe this. I thought I could get away from the violence and the danger. All I wanted was to put that behind me.”

“Put what behind you? You’re not making any sense.” He came toward her, but she ducked into the living room.

“Of course I’m not making any sense. None of it makes sense. I’ve been over it a million times, relived every moment in my head, but there’s still no rhyme or reason for any of it.” Suddenly drained, she sank down onto the hearth, one hand covering her mouth. Ty sat on the coffee table, his eyes filled with concern. For her. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at her that way. As if she mattered.

Her gaze drifted from the questions in his eyes to the side of his neck and the ugly scar. She shuddered as a wave of terror and helplessness tore through her. “My husband was shot. We stopped at a fast-food restaurant one night. Elliot wanted one of their kids’ meals. We were in a hurry, so John ran in to get the food. He brought the food out, then went back inside. They’d given him the wrong change. I heard the shots. I... Two people were killed. John was shot in the back. He was paralyzed from the waist down. He was a security guard. The police later speculated that when he went back in he was probably mistaken for a real policeman, and the shooter panicked.”

Ty bowed his head, then looked up at her. His hand slipped over hers, his fingers closing around hers gently. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. And Elliot?”

“He didn’t see anything. But he heard the shots.” She wanted to pull her hand from Ty’s, but the warmth of his touch gave her comfort. It was nice to have someone to listen, someone who would actually understand. There’d been no one to share her fear with, her heartache. “That day changed everything. One act of senseless violence. One stupid gunman. I’ve tried to understand and make sense of it, but I can’t.”

“There’s no sense to it.”

“I never understood why he liked the job or why the uniform made him feel so invincible. He was only a security guard at an office building. He signed people in and out, but he liked carrying that gun.” She looked up at him. “Why do you do it? Why do you choose to live a life filled with violence?”

Ty’s blue eyes darkened to gray. “I didn’t. I was called to a job where I could stand in the gap between people like you and the ones who commit the violence.”

“But the violence touched you.”

“True.” He inhaled a slow breath. “I don’t have any easy answers for you, Ginger. I don’t have answers for myself right now.”

The same conclusions she’d come to. No answers. No explanation. No closure. She pulled her fingers from Ty’s grasp. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” She stood, folding her arms across her chest. “Thank you for helping with supper.”

Ty stood and nodded. “Okay. Are you still coming to my parents’ tomorrow? I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“I don’t know. I’m too tired to think about it. Good night.”

Ginger heard the door click behind him, watching as he walked across the deck and disappeared around the corner. Ty was a cop. The last man on earth she wanted to be dependent on. So why did she want to call him back and hold his hand again?

With a huff, she headed for the bedroom. Because she was alone again and feeling vulnerable. Well, she’d been there before, and she’d get through this crisis, too. And she’d do it all by herself.