by Lois Richer
“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 ro
unds.”
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.
Chapter Four
No answers. Not for him or for Ginger. The look in her green eyes when she’d learned he was a cop burned into his memory, and stirred an old sadness. She’d never look at him the same way again. He couldn’t blame her. After what she’d experienced. Her situation only pointed up why he’d never married. No wife should have to live with that kind of fear or that kind of tragedy.
He rolled over, making the old bed groan and creak in protest. Her fingers had felt so delicate and small in his hand. He’d felt them tremble as she’d told her story. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her close, chase the fear away and reassure her that she was safe.
There was something special about Ginger Sloan. She’d gotten under his skin. She reminded him of the magnolia trees that stood on the property. Strong. Graceful. Her eyes were the same dark green as the shiny leaves. Her creamy complexion rivaled the white flowers with their flawless petals. Her dark auburn hair had streaks of the cinnamon color of the underside of the leaves, soft and rich. She was strong, beautiful and brave. Enduring. Somehow she’d managed to overcome the adversity in her life all alone.
But she was filled with fear, and she didn’t have to be if she’d only allow the Lord to carry her burdens. It didn’t take much to see that her troubles had caused a crisis in her faith. Maybe he could help her see that the Lord was on her side, not against her. He stretched out on his back, sending up a prayer for her comfort as he drifted off to sleep.
Gunshots.
Ty sat up in bed, searching the darkness for an intruder. He was alone. In the boathouse. Dragging a shaking hand over his damp face, he sucked in a few calming breaths. Nightmare. He lay back down, staring at the ceiling. It had been weeks since he’d had one. He’d hoped he’d finally gotten past that part. This one had been different. A new image had appeared. The men with guns were still there, appearing out of nowhere, firing at him. He’d felt the impact as the bullets had seared his body. Seen Pete lying on the ground, but this time, Ginger and EJ had been there, and the gun had been trained on them. He’d tried to warn them, to place himself in front of the gunman, but he hadn’t been able to move—hadn’t been able to force sounds from his throat. He’d seen the bullet leave the barrel—and then he’d awakened.
He couldn’t continue like this. Living with the questions. The doubt. The guilt. He needed answers, and he was tired of waiting for the Lord to shine a light on his path.
* * *
Ginger hugged the warm cup of coffee between her palms, staring into the empty fireplace replaying once again the scene from last night. Ty had been shot. In the line of duty. Duty as a cop. Her dreams had been rife with frightening images of guns and policemen, and John smiling in his uniform. But when she’d looked closer, it hadn’t been her husband but Ty, his hand to his neck, falling to the ground.
She blinked the images away. She’d learned the hard way that dwelling on those thoughts only made things worse and plunged her mood into a dark place. When she and Elliot had set out on their journey to her mother in Arizona, she’d vowed to bury those memories forever and never look at them again. It had worked until she’d landed here at Shiloh Lake in a cabin owned by a wounded cop. A very handsome and kind cop. She was tempted to accept his offer of plane tickets. Fly to Mom’s and cut her losses. If the job her mom mentioned was a sure thing, she would take him up on his offer. But it wasn’t. It was only the promise of an interview. But Ty’s offer meant going into debt again. Pride was all she had left at the moment. Besides, it was an emotion she understood. Either she took Ty’s offer and went further in debt to him, or she stayed and battled her own way out of this mess. Battling was something she understood. Indebtedness was a place she never wanted to revisit.
She stood and moved to the kitchen to refill her cup, but a knock on the cabin door turned her around. Ty. Through the glass panes she had a clear view, and the sight made her mouth suddenly dry. He was dressed in a suit and tie, ready for church. The perfe
ctly fitted dark gray jacket emphasized his broad shoulders, and the crisp white shirt brought out his tanned skin. She opened the door, putting a smile on her face. He really was easy on the eyes. “Coffee is ready.”
He didn’t smile back. Her throat tightened. He looked serious, his blue eyes dark, his mouth held in a firm line.
“No, thanks. I’ll grab some at church. I just wanted to see if you and EJ are still coming with me to my folks for dinner.”
She inhaled a deep breath, then wished she hadn’t because she breathed in the tangy scent of his aftershave. This was a different side of him. Clean-shaven, hair damp and combed neatly to one side. It grazed the edges of his collar in the back and waved slightly over his forehead. She had a sudden desire to brush it back and test the feel of it.
Dinner. She had struggled all night with that question, alternating between wanting to go and wanting to hide in the cabin. “Well, I...”
“Ty!” Elliot darted around her and stopped, staring up at Ty.
“Hey, EJ.”
Ty’s grim expression dissolved when he looked at Elliot. His blue eyes sparked, his smile widened and softened the edges of his mouth. The transformation was heart-stopping.
“I have a special name for you, Ty,” Elliot blurted out excitedly. “I made it up myself.”
“Well, let’s hear it.”
“The Tyster.” Elliot fairly bounced with pride.
Ty raised his hand to his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully as if considering the new nickname.
“Tyster. I like it. Tyster and EJ. We sound like superheroes.” He exchanged fist bumps with the boy.
Ginger’s heart nearly burst from her chest. In the short time they’d known Ty Durrant, he’d paid more attention to Elliot than his own father ever had.
Ty looked at her, his blue eyes probing. His expression serious again. “So are you coming?”
