Protecting the Widow's Heart

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.”

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.