Protecting the Widow's Heart

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.