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Protecting the Widow's Heart
Lorraine Beatty


To Love and ProtectGinger Sloan’s had enough of heartache. She just wants a peaceful place where she and her son can start over and feel safe. Getting stranded in a lakeside cabin outside Dover, Mississippi isn’t part of her plan. Then again, neither is falling for the cabin’s handsome owner. Injured on the job, detective Tyler Durrant retreats to his cabin to heal. He’s shocked to find the single mom and her son there. And surprised at the way Ginger affects his heart. For the first time in years, he has hope for the future, but can he convince Ginger that she can find safe haven in his arms?Home to Dover: A small town with a big heart







To Love and Protect

Ginger Sloan’s had enough of heartache. She just wants a peaceful place where she and her son can start over and feel safe. Getting stranded in a lakeside cabin outside Dover, Mississippi, isn’t part of her plan. Then again, neither is falling for the cabin’s handsome owner. Injured on the job, detective Tyler Durrant retreats to his cabin to heal. He’s shocked to find the single mom and her son there. And surprised at the way Ginger affects his heart. For the first time in years, he has hope for the future, but can he convince Ginger that she can find safe haven in his arms?

Home to Dover: A small town with a big heart


Ginger raced toward him, her

deep green eyes wide with worry.

“Ty! Are you all right?”

Words stuck in his throat. How did he answer that? “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Suddenly she was hugging him. He put his hands to her back, holding on. Somewhere deep inside he felt a seismic shift, a tilting of his once solid and level foundation.

“I was so worried.”

“Nothing to worry about. Everyone was out of the fire before I got there, but the cabin is probably a total loss.” He expected her to release him, but she clung to him tightly.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come back.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

She pulled back then, her eyes locking with his. “But you’re my only friend. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His heart raced erratically for a moment. “Are we friends?” He realized with a jolt that he wanted her as a friend, and more than that, as well. The thought scared him.


LORRAINE BEATTY

was born and raised in Columbus, Ohio, but has been blessed to be able to live in Germany, Connecticut and Baton Rouge. She now calls Mississippi home. She and her husband, Joe, have two sons and six grandchildren. Lorraine started writing in junior high and has written for trade books, newspapers and company newsletters. She is a member of RWA and ACFW and is a charter member and past president of Magnolia State Romance Writers. In her spare time she likes to work in her garden, travel and spend time with her family.


Protecting the Widow’s Heart

Lorraine Beatty




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.

—1 Peter 5:6–7


My Lord and Savior, who taught me a better way

to use the gifts he gave me.


Contents

Chapter One (#u90608019-59ea-54f3-a640-9da3e5fa4fcd)

Chapter Two (#u36c41021-b3bf-5666-9b11-b9d9f81327b3)

Chapter Three (#uf651e393-bd6e-52c2-872d-b429418b12c4)

Chapter Four (#u3eccfd5c-2dd4-5ecf-948c-8711db788f8f)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)


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.


Chapter Two

The smell of fresh coffee permeated the cabin. Ginger had awakened rested and fortified to face the day ahead. It had been a long time since she’d had a good night’s sleep, but last night she’d slept like a log, waking way later than her normal time. Maybe it was the profound quiet of the lakeside cabin, free from sirens and backfiring cars and all the unknown sounds that came with living in a low-rent apartment complex.

She poured a cup of coffee and spooned in a little cream and sugar. Elliot was still asleep, which gave her a rare and welcome quiet time to think and plan her next move. Moving to the expansive windows, she gazed out at the lake, now sparkling with sunlight. The old oak trees with their gnarled limbs, heavy with Spanish moss, painted a picture of serenity that beckoned her weary soul.

Grabbing a throw from the sofa, she headed out to the deck, removed the plastic covers from the wooden rockers and curled up, draping the throw across her lap. The air was chilly, but the knitted cover provided plenty of warmth. January in Mississippi was something she could get used to.

Another sip of coffee relaxed her enough to let go of her worries for a moment and take in the view. Below the deck the lawn sloped down to the water’s edge. A long, sturdy pier stretched out into the lake. Trees hid the Coopers’ cabin from view on one side. It was easy to imagine she was all alone on the lake. As her gaze traveled to the opposite side of the property, she saw the covered boat slip and the small shed attached. Was that the boathouse the owner had mentioned? It was tiny, too small to house a bed, she was sure.

The man—Durrant—was a good six feet tall. He must have been cramped in the little shed. He’d be eager to sleep in his own bed tonight, and she couldn’t blame him. She and Elliot would have to find another place to go. Someplace cheap. But that still left the question of car repairs. She hoped it would be something simple like a battery or fan belt. Anything more she couldn’t afford. Her gaze drifted back to the view, allowing her worries to slip into the back of her mind once more. Her soul craved peace like a thirsty sponge. She needed to fill up while she had the opportunity.

Movement near the water’s edge drew her attention. Mr. Durrant was seated in one of the Adirondack chairs tucked between the trees. He stood, rolling his shoulders backward a couple of times, then reaching down to rub the side of one leg. Picking up a thick book from the arm of the chair, he started up the yard toward the cabin. He moved with a fluid, athletic grace, his long stride propelling him forward, but with a slight limp that piqued her curiosity and her compassion.

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.

“Stay away from the water.”

“I will, Mom. I’m going to look for more turtles.”

Ty joined her at the railing. He’d removed his hooded jacket and pushed up the sleeves of the well-worn maroon T-shirt, revealing strong forearms. A sturdy black watch strapped across his wrist highlighted his nicely sculpted hands. She tore her gaze back to her son. “He shouldn’t be down there alone.”

“He’ll be okay. I told him not to go on the pier without a grown-up. Does he know how to swim?”

“No.”

“Well, the water’s not deep at the edge. A foot or so. Worst he would get is wet and muddy, but I’ll see if I can find a small life vest for him if it’ll make you feel better.”

“It would. He’s all I have left.” She could sense Ty’s probing gaze assessing her.

“He’s a great kid. He reminds me of my nephew. Maybe I’ll get them together soon. Give Elliot someone his age to play with.”

“You have family here?”

Ty smiled and nodded. “I was raised here. My dad owns the local hardware store. My brother and his family live in Dover, and my sister has her own construction company. I’m the only one who lives out of town. And I haven’t been home in a long while.”

“I’m sure they’re glad you’re back now.”

Ty rubbed the side of his neck. “They would be if they knew I was in town.”

Ginger turned to face him. “You didn’t tell them? Why?” He turned away, resting his forearms on the railing and staring out to the water. Obviously he didn’t want to discuss the issue.

“I have things I need to sort out. I can do that best alone.”

“But maybe your family could help.” If only she’d had someone to talk to, to comfort her when she’d felt so abandoned and alone, her world filled with anxiety and hopelessness

Ty shook his head, a slight smile on his face. “My dad would heap advice on my head, my mom would bake a pile of cookies and my brother and sister would harass me beyond endurance. I don’t need that right now.”

A sudden thought erupted in her mind. “You’re not estranged from your family, are you?” She laid her hand on his forearm, acutely aware of the warm strength beneath her fingers and the steady pulsing of the blood through his veins. She told herself to remove her hand, but for some reason she didn’t want to. “Because if there is, you need to sort it out immediately.” Memories of the years separated from her parents because of anger and stupid pride flooded her mind. “Don’t let another day go by, Ty. Don’t waste time on petty grievances and misplaced pride. I know what kind of sorrow that can bring.”

Ty turned to face her, his blue eyes filled with a tenderness she hadn’t expected and didn’t understand. He took her hand in both of his, enfolding her in a sense of warmth and security.

“I’m not at odds with my family, Ginger. I love them. I depend on them.”

“So why don’t you want them to know you’re in town?”

He released her, turning to stare at the lake again. “Because what I have to decide, I have to do alone. My family knows my situation, but they can’t help me with this particular problem. There’s only one person who can help me, and so far he hasn’t been forthcoming.”

“Who’s that?”

He grinned, deepening the crevices in his cheek. “The good Lord.”

His words cast a shadow over her mood. “Maybe He’s too busy to listen.”

A frown creased Ty’s forehead, causing a strand of hair to fall over it. “He listens to the prayers of all His children.”

He sounded so confident. But she knew otherwise. “Elliot. Time to come in.” Back inside the cabin, she headed to the kitchen. As she passed the island, she spotted the book she’d seen Ty reading earlier. It was a worn leather Bible. Why hadn’t God listened to her prayers?

Ty entered the cabin with Elliot at his side. “I’m heading to town shortly. Would you and Elliot like to tag along? We can stock up on supplies and check in with Zeke to see if he has a diagnosis on your car yet.”

She wanted to find out about her car, but the thought of leaving the safety of the cabin, putting herself into unknown situations, talking to strangers, triggered all her old fears. She knew it was cowardly, but she couldn’t help it. “No. I have things to do here. Besides, I want to wait for the call.”

She reached for her cell phone, only to remember it was out of minutes. She needed time alone to gather her strength for what was to come. She thought about what Ty had said, about him needing alone time. That was something they had in common. But she had to have a phone. There was only one other solution—swallow her pride and ask for help. She’d done that already when she’d contacted her mother after a nine-year silence. Apparently, she’d have to swallow a lot more until she could get to her mom’s and start fresh. “Could I ask you for a favor?”

“Name it.”

“Could you have my phone loaded with more minutes? If you’ll bring me the receipt, I’ll pay you back.”

“Sure. Hey, I just remembered. I have an old plug-in phone around here someplace, and the cabin’s wired for it.” He moved to the cabinet under the television, then to a lower drawer in the kitchen, finally pulling out a landline phone. He carried it to the end table and plugged it into the phone jack in the wall. “I can call you on this if I need to. I’ll give the number to the garage, too.”

“Thank you.” He seemed to think of everything. “I appreciate that.”

* * *

Ty pulled his vehicle into an empty parking space in front of the Dover city government complex, turned off the engine and hopped out. His gaze fell on the items piled to the roof in the back of his SUV. If his instincts were correct, this was the sum total of Ginger and Elliot’s possessions. His stomach turned queasy. They truly were homeless.

When he’d stopped by Zeke’s earlier to check on Ginger’s car, he’d noticed all the boxes and bags stuffed in the trunk and the backseat. He doubted anyone would mess with their belongings while at the shop, but better safe than sorry. He’d transferred it all to his car, intending to store it in one of the cabinets below the cabin until she left. Which, according to Zeke, might be a while. The car was in bad shape. The preliminary once-over indicated a transmission problem, which always meant big bucks.

Ty had made Zeke promise to call him first with the final assessment. Hopefully, he could find a way to tell Ginger, or better yet, have an alternative plan in place. He wanted to know what had happened to land them in this situation, but even in the short time he’d known them, it was clear that Ginger Sloan wasn’t one who accepted help easily.

Crossing the parking lot, he pulled open the glass door and stepped inside the sprawling building that housed the police department and other city offices. The modern facility was a new addition since he’d been home last.

His main reason for stopping by was to check in with the local police, let them know another officer was in town. Technically, since he was on medical leave, he had no authority here in Dover, but it was common courtesy to make his presence known. More importantly, he wanted to see his old mentor, Chief Brady Reynolds.

Inside the building, Ty glanced around, getting his bearings. The reception area was large and spacious with several rows of chairs for waiting, many of them occupied. The information desk consisted of a large window above a wide counter. A hallway to the right extended the length of the building. Signs placed perpendicular to the doors directed residents to various departments. The sign above the hall to the left designated the police department.

Ty started toward the information window as two uniformed Dover police officers strode into the reception room and toward the front door. A cold vise clamped around his heart. A knot the size of a football formed in his gut. He started to sweat, his hands balling into tight fists at his side.

His mind struggled to process what he was seeing. People moving about. Phones ringing in the background. The tension and activity of a city complex. All of it so familiar. While he’d never worked as a police officer here in Dover, all stations had the same feeling for him. Home. Where he belonged. Now being here filled him with doubt and fear and feelings of failure and guilt. He willed himself to get control. He hadn’t anticipated this kind of reaction.

Forcing a few deep breaths, he fought back the fear and moved forward to the man seated at the information desk. “I’d like to see Chief Reynolds, please.”

The man eyed him closely. Did he look as freaked out as he felt?

“Name?”

“Ty...” If he gave his last name, his family would hear about it before he could blink. “Just tell him Ty is here. He’ll know.”

After a quickly placed call, the man leaned forward and gestured to the right. “Down that hall. First door on the left.”

With each step down the tiled hallway, Ty’s anxiety grew. It was always like this. One minute he was fine, the next he was caught in a tidal wave of emotion he couldn’t control. Maybe, once he’d made his decision, these anxiety attacks would disappear.

Chief Brady Reynolds met him at his office door. “Well, this is a nice surprise. I saw your dad this morning, and he never said a word about you being home.” Reynolds shook Ty’s hand and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder before pulling him into the office and closing the door. He sat down behind his desk, gesturing for Ty to be seated.

Ty eased into the chair, grimacing at a sudden stitch in his side. “That’s because the family doesn’t know I’m here.”

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.

“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.


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 perfectly 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.




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