by Lois Richer
“You’re not going to walk away and pretend nothing happened. You’ve been lying to me for weeks.” She glared at him. “I want to know what’s wrong with you.”
“I didn’t lie, Cassidy. It’s not something I talk about.”
“Until now.” Frost edged her voice.
He studied her for several minutes, but deep inside, Ty knew Cassidy would not let him bluff his way through. Maybe it was better if she knew the details. Maybe she could ensure nothing bad happened the next time he zoned out.
“There was an—incident when I was in Iraq. Certain things trigger an episode and I relive that time. Technically it’s called post-traumatic stress disorder.”
“And you chose a homeless shelter to recover from this?” Her gaze revealed her disgust. “Don’t you think you should be in a hospital?”
“No. There’s nothing wrong with me. Physically, anyway.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I won’t hurt anyone or damage anything. I really am fine.”
“I said the truth, Ty. The whole truth.” She would not relent. “I told you about my father. I’ve never told anyone that story. The least you can do is be honest with me.”
He hated talking about it, hated how it diminished him, made him feel stupid, helpless and incompetent. But this was not the time to hide.
Cassidy was part of the Haven, an important part. She’d poured herself into the project, given unstintingly. She’d bent over backward doing whatever he’d asked of her, gone beyond any expectations in helping him with Jack. If Ty was honest he’d admit she was quickly becoming more than just a coworker, though he wasn’t sure what to do with that knowledge.
“It’s not a matter of honesty.”
“I think it’s completely about honesty. Tell me what happened, Ty.”
She wanted the truth? Fine. Let her have it. Then he’d see how she felt about total honesty. He gritted his teeth, forced out the words.
“The attack killed five men. Five men who had come to me for counseling, for help, because they were afraid. Do you know what I told them to do?”
“No.”
The knot of disgust tightened inside his gut, forcing out the shame he could not escape.
“I told them to face their fears. I told them to go back out into that nightmare and look their fear in the eye.”
He laughed, the irony of it never more razor sharp than now. They’d faced their fear and it had cost them their lives. But he lived with his fear every single day. Fear that he’d give the wrong advice again. Fear that he’d mess up and others would die.
Because of him.
“I relive that afternoon,” he told her, unable to mask the wobble in his voice. “I see them preparing to leave, I feel the blast and then—they’re gone.”
Pity turned her silver eyes gunmetal gray. Her fingers squeezed his shoulder.
“It wasn’t your fault. You were doing your job.”
“Really?” That painful rasp that hurt his throat could not be called a laugh. “I could have sent them home, Cassidy. I could have scribbled mental distress across their file jackets and they’d be alive today. It’s my fault they’re dead.”
Cassidy stared at Ty, her heart racing as he slammed a fist into his palm the same way the truth slammed into her heart.
He hadn’t lied to her.
Ty had tried to protect her and Jack from the nightmare that tortured him.
Ty was not a man trying to fool her, but a man desperate to rebuild his life.
Now she understood why Ty hadn’t wanted to talk to Irina, why he shied away from others who came seeking his help. Ty didn’t want to risk saying the wrong thing again. He’d pushed ahead with everything at the Haven except the counseling part of it because guilt had stolen his confidence.
Armed with that knowledge, Cassidy forgave him. And in the forgiving came healing empowerment. No longer was she a victim of cheating and lying. She was free to stop hiding, free of the fear that someone else would abuse her trust.
Free to reach out, to help a man she cared about.
Ty sat huddled in his chair, his face tortured. Cassidy crouched down in front of him, covered his hands with hers.
“The war, the explosion, the deaths—you couldn’t have prevented any of it, Ty. You’re not that powerful.” Her fingers tightened on his. “In your heart you must know. You went over there, you did your job and you helped as many people as you could. Some didn’t make it. But that wasn’t your fault.”
“I should have sent them home.”
He didn’t pull away from her touch, so Cassidy stayed still, drawing strength from the shadows around them that allowed the intimacy of sharing.
“Were they medical cases? Unfit for duty?”
The battle for truth played out across his face.
“No,” he finally whispered.
“Then you wouldn’t have been doing your job if you’d sent them home. The government trusted you to make that call, Ty. And you did. You listened, you used your knowledge and experience and you gave them the best advice you could. You’re not at fault.”
He studied her for a long time before his fingers tightened around hers.
“My head hears and agrees,” he murmured, his breath brushing her cheek. “But my heart wants them back.”
“Can’t you trust God that they are safe with Him?”
Cassidy wasn’t sure where the words came from. She didn’t trust God, hadn’t since her father had stolen her future. But this wasn’t about her. This was about Ty and he did believe. More than that, he trusted God.
“Trust God?” He peered at her through the dimness of the flickering candles. A faint smile touched his lips. “I guess I never thought of it that way. I’ve been so engrossed in what I feel, hear and see that I didn’t—” His voice trailed away as he worked through the issue in his own mind.
Gradually, like an ebbing tide, the tension in his body dissipated. His grip on her hands changed from clinging to something she couldn’t understand. It was as if she saw Ty in a whole new light.
Like a movie, Cassidy replayed past mornings when she’d shown up at work only to find Ty huddled over a cup of coffee, face gray, eyes tortured. She remembered the times he’d tried so hard to back out of a counseling session, realizing now it was not because he didn’t want to help the people here, but because he did but was afraid his help would do more harm than good.
Like snapshots in a photo album, she saw him with Jack—tentative, cautious, uncertain of himself. And there was Jack, needing someone strong and confident to help him through the doubts. It wasn’t that Ty didn’t want a relationship with his nephew, Cassidy realized. It was that he was afraid he’d fail him, just as he thought he’d failed his fellow soldiers, his brother.
“Thank you.”
Cassidy found him staring at her, his eyes serious but no longer tortured.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You did. You made me say it out loud, face it. I’ve never really done that—not as thoroughly as I did here, with you.” He loosened one hand, brushed her cheek. “How did you get so smart about God?”
“I’m not.”
“You are. All this time I’ve been putting my faith in myself, in how I could handle things, how I would manage, as if I’m God. But I do believe God is in control of the world. I need to do my part and let Him do His.” He touched her nose with his forefinger. “You reminded me of that. Thank you.”
“Oh. Well, you’re welcome.” His nearness made her nervous. She tried to pull away, to distance herself, but he wouldn’t let go of her other hand, and stood up with her. “Instead of hiding away, going through these episodes alone, why don’t you give the rest of us a chance to help you? You should know talking sometimes diminishes the strength of your reactions.”
“Okay. I’ll come find you next time and you can soothe my fears away.”
It wasn’t the hint behind his words that made her warm, it was that look in his eyes,
the way his fingers squeezed around hers.
“Would you kiss and make it better, Cassidy?”
Transfixed by the mesmerizing stroke of his thumb against her cheek, Cassidy froze; a deep yearning billowed up inside her. She didn’t know what to do next.
She didn’t have to decide. Ty leaned forward and kissed her, the light brush of his lips sending shockwaves through her body. The connection between them had been born the day she’d met him and simmered beneath the surface ever since.
So Cassidy leaned into the kiss, lifting her arms to circle his neck, burying her fingers in the tendrils of hair that curled against his nape. His hands moved around her waist and he drew her closer, intensifying the embrace until she could think only of him.
As quickly as it had begun, it was over. For a moment, Cassidy couldn’t understand why. She blinked, wincing at the harsh glow backlighting Ty.
The power was back on.
Embarrassed, she dropped her hands, then stepped back so his fell away from her.
“Cassidy?” His fingers pushed against her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She glanced around to avoid his stare. “Look at this mess. I’ve got to get it cleaned up.”
Ty said nothing as she blew out the candles, ran the dishwater and began wiping up the baking mess. After a minute, he began washing the dirty cooking utensils.
Silence hung awkwardly between them, but Cassidy couldn’t think of a way to break it without sounding girlishly silly. It was just a kiss, after all.
“Everything’s cool upstairs,” Jack told them, bursting into the room with Red at his heels. “What are you doing with our brownies?”
“Putting them away so they don’t dry out. Do you want to take some home, Red?”
“I wouldn’t mind.” She accepted the plastic-wrapped tray greedily. “I wish you’d do this more often.”
“What? Bake?” Cassidy forced herself not to stare at Ty. Her heart rate accelerated at his disheveled hair, mussed shirt. Had she done that?
“Yeah, bake.” Red frowned. “You give those women classes about how to cook. How come you can’t teach us?”
Cassidy blinked her surprise. It was the first time Red had shown interest in any program at the Haven. “You want to take cooking lessons?”
“Yeah, but not with those women. They know too much.”
She’d be surprised. But Red’s words sparked an idea she’d had weeks ago. Cassidy had so much else going on that she’d left it perking in the back of her brain. Maybe it was time.
“Thursday evenings work for me. Seven to eight-thirty.”
“You mean you’ll do it?” Surprise filled Jack’s brown gaze.
“Starting this week if you can find five more kids who are interested.”
“Not a problem.” Red grinned.
“All right!” Jack beamed.
“Cassidy.” Ty stood behind her.
The tone of his voice warned her he wasn’t thrilled.
“It’s a good idea, Uncle Ty. I know a lot of kids at school who have to fend for themselves when their parents are working. If they knew how to cook some simple meals for their brothers and sisters, don’t you think that would be good?”
“I think it would be wonderful, Jack. But Cassidy’s already doing something almost every night of the week. It’s a lot to ask of her.”
“I’m only here until June. I don’t mind squeezing in a few extra hours if it will help.” Cassidy caught Jack’s triumphant glare at his uncle, saw worry crowd Ty’s beautiful blue eyes. “But only with your uncle’s permission. I know it’s a liability to have kids working in the kitchen and you probably have to check with Elizabeth about insurance and all that stuff.”
“Yes, I do.” Gratefulness gleamed in his gaze. “I also need permission slips from the parents agreeing that their children may take the class. I can make up a form tomorrow morning.” He turned to Jack. “Will that be a problem?”
“Permission slips? Like in elementary school?”
“It’s what the board requires, Jack. I am their employee, after all.”
“Yeah, I know.” He looked to Red. “Think they’ll go for it?”
“They’ll go for it.” She grinned. “Thursday evening. You’re on. I’ll spread the word. Thanks for the grub.” Then she was gone.
“I’d better finish my reading.” Jack left with two brownies.
Suddenly they were alone in awkward silence.
“Are you sure about this, Cassidy?” Ty’s concern filled her with joy. “You’re making a meal every night but Sunday. You’ve got brunches, lunches and classes. I don’t want you to burn out.”
“I’m having too much fun to burn out.” What a dumb thing to say after that kiss. “But I do need part of tomorrow afternoon off. I asked Irina to cover, and she’s fine with it if you are.”
“Of course.” He waited expectantly, but Cassidy couldn’t tell him about her errand. Not yet. “Take all the time you need.”
“Thank you. And thanks for the help. We’re done here.”
But Ty didn’t go. He kept watching her. The funny fidgety feeling inside ballooned.
“I guess I’d better call a cab,” she murmured.
He cleared his throat.
“Um, if you’re not in a hurry, I thought you might like to come up to the roof.”
The roof? She was invited to his private place?
“I’ll get my coat and meet you at the stairs.”
Ty left. Cassidy filled her lungs with air, told her heart to calm down.
“Just because you think you can trust him, don’t go getting gaga.”
Her heart ignored that.
“It’s a perfect night,” Ty said, meeting her at the stairs.
Perfect for what? Cassidy didn’t ask. Instead she followed him to the roof. He closed the door behind them and switched off the light.
“Look up.”
Cassidy blinked, surprised by how different the city looked from up here. She peered into the night sky, saw stars sprinkled across the sky, glittering against the dark backdrop.
“It should be a good night to see Mars.” Ty revealed his telescope.
“That’s what you’ve been doing up here? Stargazing?”
“It’s more like communing with God for me.” He peered through the lens, found the spot he wanted and adjusted the controls. “Take a look.”
Cassidy didn’t know what to expect. Telescopes had never been part of her life. She’d never even wanted to peer through one before. But one look and she was transfixed by a soft red glow.
“It’s Mars.” Ty stood beside her, slightly behind, his body acting as a shield against the chilly spring breeze. “Can you see it?”
“Yes.” She could also see and hear and feel him, very near, murmuring facts and figures about the night sky. Concentrate. “Why is it so foggy in some places?”
“Pollution or space dust. Mars is highest in the sky between now and two o’clock. That’s the best viewing time.”
Ty was so close that his breath warmed her cheek as he moved the telescope slightly to show her different stars.
“It’s beautiful.” The magnificence awed her.
“It was created by God, all of it designed from a master plan. Isn’t that remarkable?” He grinned. “I get chills sometimes, just thinking about such creative genius.”
Cassidy had never thought of God as a genius.
“Humans prize imagination, but what kind of mind must it have taken to design our solar system and stars with nothing to go on? I think that’s why I was so moved when I went to the Middle East. At one time, it was the cradle of civilization. They have artifacts all over the place marking the history of generation after generation. And God was there the whole time.”
“You really believe that?”
“I know that. Don’t you?”
Cassidy thought about it for a moment.
“We used to go to Sunday school when we were kids. Mom
would haul us out of bed, clean us up and we’d walk the five or six blocks to church. God always seemed more like a judge to me, a taskmaster.” She smiled at her memories. “Some of the sermons had me shivering in my shoes.”
“The Bible does talk about God’s anger against those who abused His goodness or wouldn’t obey,” Ty agreed, snugging her jacket around her neck and pulling the zip all the way up. “Better?” He waited for her nod. “But there are wonderful passages about how much He loves us, how far He’ll go to keep us. His infinite patience is what I admire most.”
“Why?”
Ty laughed.
“Probably because I have so little. I can’t understand how God could even want the children of Israel when they kept complaining in the desert. I mean, they had food, they had water and they weren’t slaves. They whined because nothing was familiar—but the very thing they were trying to escape was familiarity.”
She searched her brain for some memory of the Bible and came up blank.
“Later on God told this prophet called Hosea to take a wife, Gomer, who kept getting involved with other men. Repeatedly God orders Hosea to bring her home.” He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “It’s a perfect illustration of God’s patience and love toward us.”
Cassidy shivered in the night breeze, grateful when Ty hugged her against his side.
“Why did Hosea have to marry a woman like that?”
“To show that He chooses people who are, in themselves, nothing out of the ordinary. It’s what He chooses to do with those people that makes the difference. Should we go in? Are you too cold?” His tender voice chased away the chill.
Someone would interrupt them if they went inside. Or she’d be too embarrassed to ask questions. Here in the dark it was easier to forget her uneasiness, ask when she didn’t understand and revel in being with him. She shook her head.
“Go on.”
“Gomer kept being unfaithful, it wasn’t just a one-time deal. So for Hosea to keep bringing her back must have made him look stupid to the community. But God was trying to teach His people that His love doesn’t die because they do something wrong. So He insisted Hosea restore Gomer as his wife over and over.”
“She must have been quite a woman.”