Читать книгу Protecting the Widow's Heart - Lorraine Beatty - Страница 9

Chapter One

Ginger Sloan kept one hand on her son’s shoulder and one on her small suitcase as they topped the wooden stairs hugging the side of the raised lakeside cabin and followed their benefactor, Mr. Nelson Cooper, across the wide deck. A patio table and chairs, two large rocking chairs and a big grill barely made a dent in the expansive space. All had been covered in heavy plastic to protect them from the weather. A quick glance past the railing revealed a large body of water sparkling in the moonlight. Its beauty escaped her. All she could think of was how isolated the place was, and what a fool she’d been to lose track of time.

Her seven-year-old son, Elliot, had begged for a break from the cross-country drive they were making from Shelton, Connecticut, to the small town of Spring Valley near Phoenix, Arizona. He’d been so good about being cooped up in the car for two days she’d wanted to reward him. So when they’d seen a sign for a Mississippi state park touting their expansive playground and a lake, she’d agreed to the small detour. But they’d lost track of time, and had made a wrong turn leaving the park, ending up on the far side of the lake after dark. Thankfully, she’d spotted some cabins and stopped to ask directions. But when she’d turned the key in the ignition, her car had refused to start, leaving them stranded and dependent upon the kindness of strangers for help and causing every nerve in her body to tighten in anxiety.

“I think you’ll find the place real cozy.” Cooper pushed open the door, smiling over his shoulder. “Let me get the lights for you.”

Mr. Cooper, the owner of the cabin next door where she’d sought help, had been more than kind. He and his wife, Mae, had drawn her a map to I-55 and then, after her car wouldn’t start, had offered to let her stay in the empty cabin next to them. While she was grateful, her fears far outweighed her gratitude.

“Mom, is that the same lake we saw before?” Elliot pointed to the water beyond the trees.

“Yes.” She steered him into the cabin, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the light. The main room was open concept with an L-shaped kitchen along the back wall. A long island with bar stools separated it from the living area. A massive stone fireplace with raised hearth, perfect for cozying up to, dominated the far wall. Windows, rising to the rafters, afforded an unobstructed view of the lake from the front. At the moment, it only revealed darkness, but Ginger allowed a quick second of anticipation to override her fear. The view in the morning would be amazing.

Mr. Cooper had stepped from the room briefly, muttering something about a water valve. He returned with a broad smile on his dark face and rubbing his hands together in a gesture of accomplishment. “Well, I think you’re all set. The lights are working, the water is turned on, though I’d let it run a few minutes to clear out the pipes, and the pilot light is lit, so you should have heat soon.”

Ginger pulled Elliot against her chest, keeping her hands on his slender shoulders. Mr. Cooper seemed kind enough, but it paid to be cautious. “Thank you, but are you sure this will be all right with the owner? He might not appreciate strangers staying here without his permission.”

The man shook his head and smiled more broadly. “Don’t you worry none about that. I know Mr. Durrant, and he’d be the first one to offer you aid. Besides, he’s never here much. I take care of the place for him. Mae and I live out here full-time now that I’m retired.” He rested his hands on his hips and glanced around the large room. “Let’s see. I doubt if there’s any food in the place.” He walked to the fridge and pulled it open, then checked the cabinets, as well. “I’m going to go back to the house and gather up some things for you and your boy to eat. You get settled in, and I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. We’ll be fine. I appreciate all you’ve done, Mr. Cooper.”

He smiled and pointed a finger at her. “Now, no more of that Mr. Cooper stuff. You call me Nels. We’re friends now.”

His words eased some of her tension, but she kept her guard up. Over the years she’d been conditioned to expect the worst at any moment.

“Until we know what’s wrong with your vehicle, you need a safe place to stay and some food. But right now, you get yourselves settled in. We’ll get your car towed to Zeke’s in the morning, and let him take a look at it.”

Towed? “How much will that cost?” The seriousness of her situation slammed into her again. Money was tight. Really tight, and car repairs weren’t in the budget. Neither was lodging or unexpected delays.

“Don’t worry about that, either. Right now you and the boy get some rest. We’ll tackle the big problems when the sun rises. Things always look better under the Lord’s sunshine.”

After Mr. Cooper, Nels, left, Ginger made a quick tour of the rest of the cabin. A master bedroom with attached bath was on one side of the cabin, a smaller bedroom was across the narrow hall with a full bath and laundry area next to it. She noted with interest that the small storage space beside the washer was stuffed full of sports equipment, which might come in handy to entertain Elliot tomorrow.

There didn’t appear to be any other access to the cabin besides the front door. At least there was only one way in and one way out of this place. That gave her a measure of comfort. No one could sneak up on them unexpectedly out here in the wilderness.

“Mom, can I sleep in this room?” Elliot sat on the double bed in the smaller room, a big smile on his face. “It has fish in it.” He pointed to the outdated wallpaper border along the ceiling depicting various kinds of fish flailing about on hooks. The bedspread was an ugly brown quilt with plaid fish in the center of large squares, and a brown-and-white checked border. Every item in the room reinforced the fishing theme. Only a man could appreciate such a decor.

“I think you’d better sleep with me tonight since we’re in a strange place.”

“Please? This room is way cool. There’s even a fish lamp.”

Ginger tugged on her hair. It was late. They were tired, and she didn’t feel like arguing. She had too much to sort out. “Fine. But leave the door open so I can hear you in case you change your mind.” Finding fresh sheets in the closet, she busied herself with putting them on the beds.

“Mrs. Sloan?”

The shout from the front of the cabin pulled a gasp from her throat and sent her heart thudding wildly. Nels. She’d forgotten he was going to return with the food. “Coming.” She hurried out to the living area to find the older man and his wife busily unloading a box filled with a week’s worth of food.

“Oh, you didn’t need to bring so much. Milk and cereal for Elliot would have been fine.”

Mae Cooper smiled and shook her head. “Nonsense. You might be here for a few days. I want to make sure you have enough food for that growing boy of yours.”

Days? She hadn’t thought that far ahead. What if the car couldn’t be fixed? How would she get to Arizona then? Her head spun with the implications. Why did each new day of her life bring more unexpected problems? She’d spent the past two years living in fear of the next disaster.

“Now, then. That should hold you. We’re going to get out of here and let you settle in, but if you need anything, anything at all, you come right next door and get me, all right?”

Mae smiled and patted her husband’s shoulder. “Nels is a light sleeper, so he’ll hear you if you call. I left our number on the counter for you.”

After a quick bowl of cereal, Elliot scrambled into bed, eager to spend the night with the fish. Ginger returned to the kitchen to clean up, her glance falling on a tall, narrow cabinet in the far corner of the living room. Her throat seized up, trapping air in her chest. A gun case—rifles lined up in a neat row behind a glass door. Memories unfurled, yanking her back to the parking lot of a fast-food restaurant—she and Elliot waiting in the car as her husband, John, went inside. The strange popping sound. Realizing it was gunfire. The police. Sirens. Shielding Elliot from the horror. John being wheeled out on a stretcher. The hospital. Bullet to spine. Never walk again.

Ginger sucked in air, turning from the gun cabinet. Her life had changed forever that day. The surgeries, the complications that had dragged on, maxing out their insurance, forcing them to sell their home and destroying their credit. When John had died, she’d been left with over one hundred thousand dollars in medical bills and struggling to keep her head above water.

Slowly she turned, facing the cabinet again. She hated guns. Hated violence. A gun had destroyed her life and filled her with fear so deep and insidious she knew she’d never be free of it. Her only hope was to get to her mother’s in Arizona. Maybe in the nice, safe town of Spring Valley she could rebuild her life and find peace.

Closing her eyes, she willed herself to calm down. She noticed a sturdy lock on the gun cabinet’s door. She tugged on it, satisfied it was secure. She was safe. For the moment anyway.

Moving to the front door of the cabin, she locked it, checked all the windows and found them secured, as well. There was nothing else she could do. Back in the master bedroom she prepared for bed, trying to keep some perspective. The Coopers seemed like nice people. Kind and helpful. But she was stranded in the backwoods of Mississippi with strangers and without a car.

Reaching for her phone, she slid it open. She was almost out of minutes, but she had to call her mother and let her know where they were, and that they might be a few days late. “Mom?”

“Ginny, sweetheart, is everything okay?”

The sound of her mother’s voice washed through her with a comforting warmth she’d long missed. Too many years had passed with no contact. Her fault entirely. Turning her back on the values and wisdom of her parents had seemed like freedom at the time, but only proved to be her downfall. But she intended to correct that now. “I’ve run into a little car trouble, and I’m spending the night at Shiloh Lake. It’s near a small town called Dover, Mississippi. I wanted you to know in case.”

“In case what?”

The concern in her mother’s voice touched her heart. “Well...in case I have to stay awhile. I don’t know what’s wrong with my car yet. I’ll find out tomorrow.”

“Oh, dear. I hope you can still get here within the next week. I talked to my friend, and he’ll hold off making a decision until he meets with you, but he really needs to fill the position as soon as possible.”

“I know. I’ll do my best.”

“Ginny, you sound strange. Is anything else wrong?”

“No. Well, yes. There’s a gun cabinet here in the cabin, and it brought back things I don’t want to remember.”

“Guns? Oh, sweetheart, are you safe there?”

“Yes, they’re secured. But—” Tears sprang to her eyes and she swiped them away. “If only John hadn’t put on that stupid uniform.”

“I thought you said he liked being a security guard for that big office building.”

“He did. But the police thought seeing John in his uniform is what set the gunman off. He thought John was the real police.”

“Oh, Ginger. You never told me that. I’m so sorry. We have so much to catch up on. Hurry home to me. I love you, honey.”

Her mother’s words triggered more tears. “I will, Mom. Love you, too. I’m running low on minutes, so I’d better go. I just wanted to let you know.”

“Sweetheart, I wish I could help you. I wish I had some money to send you but...”

“It’s okay, Mom. We’ve met a nice couple who are helping us out. We’ll be fine. Don’t worry about us.”

But worry was all she could do as she hung up, moved to the bathroom and prepared for bed. Rinsing the cleanser from her face, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked pale as a ghost and tired. She couldn’t remember looking any other way. Maybe, once she got to Spring Valley, she could spend a little time on herself. A stray lock of hair fell against her cheek. With an irritated grunt she grabbed a clip and fastened it in place. She’d tried everything to keep that cowlick at her temple under control. Cutting it off only made it stick out more. Curling and straightening never lasted more than an hour. As a result, it was forever hanging over her ear and brushing her cheek. Tugging it out of the way had developed into a habit. A professional stylist could probably help, but who could afford that?

Slipping between the covers, she turned her mind to getting some rest. The firm bed, with fresh sheets smelling like pine, wrapped her in comfort. The soothing combination beckoned her to let go of her fears and sleep. She could hear her son’s steady breathing from across the hall. At least he would get some rest. She had too much on her mind. Such as how she was going to pay for car repairs, how she’d get to her mother’s in time to take the much-needed job and how she was going to repay the owner of this cabin for using it. The Coopers had assured her there was no need, but Ginger knew firsthand the crushing burden of debt, and she refused to be indebted to anyone ever again.

Please, God. If You’re listening this time, all I’m asking is to get to Mom’s, so we can find a nice, safe place to start over.

* * *

The pain on his left side started at his thigh, traveled through his side and up to his neck. Tyler Durrant shifted his weight in the driver’s seat and peered into the distance. The sign for Shiloh Lake was a few yards up ahead. He was almost at the cabin. He should have stopped and stretched his tired body hours ago, but he’d been too intent on getting to his sanctuary. He’d left Dallas on impulse late this afternoon and driven straight through with only a quick stop for gas and a package of cookies.

Slowing, he made the turn onto the narrow gravel road winding behind the twenty or so cabins lining the shores of the lake. What had once been a few remote fishing camps had grown into a small community of weekend cabins positioned close enough to keep residents from feeling isolated but far enough apart that you didn’t feel your neighbor’s eyes prying into your business. It was the perfect place for Ty to hide out and think things through.

A twinge of guilt pricked his conscience as he steered his car toward his cabin. He hadn’t told his family he was coming back to Dover. He had a hard enough time with all his well-meaning fellow officers in Dallas. His family would be hovering and worrying, and he needed peace and quiet—time to figure out his future and make what could be the most important decision of his life. The cabin his uncle had left him was the perfect place. Quiet, private and peaceful. If he couldn’t find his answers here, there were no answers to be found.

His medical leave was up at the end of the month. He had to decide if he would remain in law enforcement or look for work elsewhere. He knew what he wanted. He liked being a detective for the Dallas Police Department. But being shot had left him filled with doubts about his ability to do the job and stolen the sense of invincibility a police officer needed to function. He hadn’t been able to pick up his service weapon since. What kind of cop could he be if he was too scared to use his gun?

Pressing his foot on the brake, he eased his SUV into the parking area beneath the cabin and stopped. Hands gripping the wheel, he sent up a quick prayer. Lord, I need Your help sorting this out. I can’t do it without You. Show me the future I should choose.

His body protested as he pulled himself out of the car and retrieved his bag from the backseat. His thigh burned as he climbed the steps, the scar tissue pulling and stinging with each step. He inhaled a sharp breath. His wounds had healed completely, but overuse or lack of sleep brought back the aches and discomfort.

The fear and guilt, however, were always with him. He’d been over that night four months ago when he and his partner, Pete Steele, had made a follow-up call on a homicide case. The interview had taken an odd turn, so Pete had called for backup. But on the way to the car, a gunman had appeared around the side of the house, catching him by surprise. He’d hesitated, taking rounds to his thigh, his side and his neck. Pete had taken one to the chest and died. A death that Ty could have prevented if he’d acted more quickly.

On the broad deck, he paused a moment to select the cabin key from the assortment on his key ring, stealing a glance at the lake and the ribbon of light slashing across the water from the full moon. First thing in the morning he’d come out here with his coffee, or better yet, to the pier and soak up the quiet.

With one quick movement he unlocked the door and stepped through, and came face-to-face with a bat-wielding woman standing three feet in front of him.

“Stop right there. Don’t take another step.”

Ty stared a moment, then glanced around the cabin. It was his place. But he had no idea who this woman was. His surprise shifted abruptly to irritation. He dropped his duffel bag onto the floor. “Who are you and what are you doing in my cabin?”

“I have permission. And it’s not your cabin.”

Ty frowned and took a step toward the woman. She pulled back on the bat as if ready to swing it at his head. He held up his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to know what you’re doing here.”

“I told you. I have permission from the owner.”

“I’m the owner, and I didn’t give anyone permission to stay here.” His neck throbbed. He rubbed it with his fingers, trying to ease the stinging.

“Ha! That’s not true. The owner lives out of state.”

“Yeah. I live in Dallas.” Ty took a closer look at the intruder. She was wrapped in a purple robe with baggy sleeves and tied at the waist. Her dark hair was trapped beneath the thick collar as if she’d tossed the robe on in haste. He guessed she was about five-eight, maybe thirty years old, but it was hard to tell when she had a bat poised over her head. For the first time, Ty was aware of the fear in the woman’s eyes and the tense, protective curve of her shoulders. He took a step forward only to have her squeal and retreat against the wall, pulling a cell phone from her pocket.

“I’m calling the police.” She punched in some numbers, all the while keeping a wary eye on him.

Ty lifted his hands in surrender and moved to the leather recliner, dropping down into it with a heavy sigh. His body was grateful for the softness. “Good. Chief Reynolds is a friend. He’ll have this sorted out in a heartbeat, though I don’t think he’ll be too happy about you waking him up in the middle of the night.”

The woman held the small phone to her ear, bat at the ready. “This is Mrs.... Uh, I need help at the cabin at the lake. The one next door to the Coopers. There’s an intruder.”

Ty held back the smile that found its way to his lips. That should bring the local law enforcement running. The ache in his side forced him up out of the chair. There was no place comfortable. He needed to stretch out on the bed. Fast. “Look, lady...”

A loud knock on the door interrupted him.

“Ty. Is that you?” Nelson Cooper peeked in the door, quickly coming inside when he saw what was happening. “Whoa. Mrs. Sloan, it’s okay. Ty owns this cabin.” Nels held up his hands, placing himself between them. “What are you doing here? I didn’t expect you.”

Ty watched the fear in the woman’s eyes fade as she lowered the bat, clutching the phone in her other hand. “I came home on a whim. Sorry. I didn’t expect guests.”

Nels shook Ty’s hand, then moved to the woman, gently touching her arm. “This is Ginger Sloan. Her car broke down tonight, and she needed a place to stay. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Normally I wouldn’t. But I’m afraid we’ll have to make other arrangements.” The woman’s eyes, which he saw now were a dark green and covered with thick lashes, widened with worry. No. Desperation. Before he could speak, a small boy hurried toward them from the back, stopping at his mother’s side, his eyes peeking over her protective arm.

“Mom?” His simple word held a boatload of questions.

“It’s all right, Elliot. Don’t worry.”

“Do we have to leave? I like it here.”

Ty glanced at his watch. It was nearly midnight, too late to make other arrangements. But he needed sleep. “Look, this is all a misunderstanding that we can sort out in the morning.”

“We can sleep in the car.” The woman raised her chin and met his gaze full-on.

He frowned. Did she think he was going to throw them out? “No need. You stay put. I’ll bunk down at the boathouse. We’ll talk tomorrow after we’re all rested and calmer.” He glanced at the boy, who he guessed to be a little older than his six-year-old nephew, Kenny. “Are you sleeping in the fish room?” A smiled moved the child’s lips, bringing a light to his dark eyes. He nodded. “Good choice. That was always my favorite room. Watch out for Barney, though.”

“Who’s Barney?”

“Barney Brim. He’s that fish on a stick sitting on the dresser. He likes to wander around the cabin sometimes. I can’t keep him in one place.” The boy eyed him a moment, then smiled timidly. Picking up his duffel, Ty started for the door. Nelson spoke quietly to the woman.

“I’m so sorry for the confusion, Mrs. Sloan. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine in the morning. You have my word.”

Ty waited until Nels stepped outside before facing the woman again. “Don’t worry about any further intrusions. I’ll be down at the boathouse, and I promise I won’t bother you. You’re safe here.”

For whatever reason, the woman’s eyes lightened. “Thank you.”

He started to leave, then turned back. “Uh, you wouldn’t happen to have anything to eat in the house, would you?”

She nodded. “Nels and Mae brought enough food to feed an army. Take what you need.”

Her expression had softened, but her defensive stance hadn’t. She still held her son close to her side, as if protecting him from danger. Ty pulled a drink and a package of bologna from the fridge, then grabbed a bag of chips and the loaf of bread. “I’ll bring this back in the morning.”

At the door he stopped, taking one last look at the woman and her child. Those wide green eyes still held a wary shadow, but the boy wiggled his fingers and smiled.

By the time he said good-night to Nels and crossed the yard to the boathouse at the water’s edge, he’d collected enough questions to keep him up all night. What was the woman’s story? Why was she so frightened? And why had he wanted to pull her and the child into his arms and comfort them? Fatigue. It was the only explanation.

After a change into his sweats, he ate a quick bite, downed his meds and went to bed.

Lord, I need rest. I need peace. I can’t have strangers in my life right now.

Closing his eyes, he drifted off, only to find a pair of pretty green eyes filled with worry and fear chasing him into sleep.