“Good. You need to start taking him to church, you know.”
“What brought that on? Are you worried that I’m not being a good enough mother?”
“Of course not. It’s time Danny made some new, happy memories, that’s all.” Sam chuckled wryly. “You won’t believe who got roped in as Sunday school teacher for the second and third grade boys’ class at Serenity Chapel.”
“No clue.” Lindy picked up a narrow slice of steaming veggie pizza, inhaling the enticing aroma before taking a cautious bite.
“Thad Pearson. Didn’t you notice him in line behind us when we ordered?”
“You mean the guy who took over Pearson Products?”
“Uh-huh. Have you met?”
“Not exactly. I saw him from a distance when I dropped off my résumé. He’s certainly not the kind of person I’d picture as a Sunday school teacher.”
“Me, either. But he does an amazing job with the kids. It’s too bad he couldn’t adopt his brother’s orphans.”
“Why not?” Lindy took another bite.
“PTSD. He got a medical discharge from the marines because of post-traumatic stress. Unfortunately, that meant, as a CASA representative, I couldn’t recommend him as a prospective parent, even if I’d wanted to.” She focused her gaze across the room and brightened, her smile becoming a broad grin. “Well, butter me up and call me a biscuit. Here he comes.”
Lindy swiveled in her seat. The man was dark haired, muscular, athletic looking and wearing jeans that were worn but clean. He also had on a red polo shirt and matching jacket which bore the Pearson Products logo.
She was about to avert her gaze when it caught his and lingered a heartbeat too long. Blushing, she sank down in her seat and began wishing she could slide all the way under the table, especially when Samantha waved and hollered, “Thad! Over here.”
Lindy gaped. “What did you do that for?”
“So I could properly introduce you to Danny’s Sunday school teacher.”
“I never promised I’d start going back to church.”
“Ah, but you will. For Danny’s sake, of course.”
The hulking figure who soon hovered over Lindy made her feel as small as a child herself.
“Thad, this is Lindy Southerland,” Samantha said. “She has a son the same age as your nephew, Timmy, and I was just telling her about how the kids in your class at Serenity Chapel love having you as their teacher.”
“Pleased to meet you.” He nodded to Lindy as he answered Samantha. “I do my best.”
To Lindy’s surprise, the man looked almost as ill at ease as she felt. Was he glancing around the cramped dining area because he was wishing he could make a polite getaway?
“Please, join us. We have lots of room,” Samantha insisted. She checked her watch. “As a matter of fact, you can take my chair. I have to be getting back to the hospital ASAP. Nearly every bed in my wing is full. Doctors can get away with taking long lunches but we nurses don’t dare.” She gathered up her jacket and trash, slid out, took Thad’s drink from him and placed it on the table opposite Lindy before rushing off.
For a few long seconds, Lindy wondered if the man was going to grab his soda and flee, but he didn’t. Shrugging, he sat down with a resigned air, nodded another silent greeting and began to unwrap his foot-long sandwich.
“I apologize,” Lindy said, feeling her cheeks burn. “Samantha sometimes gets carried away.”
“No problem. As long as it’s all right with you.”
As soon as she said, “Sure. It’s fine,” he picked up his sub and began to eat.
Lindy felt strange sitting across the narrow table from a man—any man. Since being widowed she’d already had to withstand a few well-meaning efforts at matchmaking and had had no trouble doing so. Consequently, it was awkward to find herself trapped in this kind of social situation.
If the attractive man had not seemed so resigned to her presence, she might have left without finishing her lunch. Since he was essentially ignoring her, however, she had no such compunctions. She wasn’t sure what PTSD entailed but she figured polite silence couldn’t hurt him.
Half of Thad’s food was gone before he spoke another word. “So, you have a little boy?”
“Yes. Danny.”
His brow knit. He studied her. “Southerland. Any relation to the accountant who got himself shot a while back?”
Well, that was certainly blunt enough. Thad Pearson might be a man of few words but the ones he did use were definitely to the point. “Yes,” Lindy said. Her chin jutted. “Ben was my husband. And he was an investment counselor, not an accountant.”
“Sorry. I lost my only brother about a year ago.”
“I know. How are his kids doing?”
“Really well, thanks.” He finally smiled, sort of, giving Lindy a strange, tingling sensation and making her wish he had remained stoic. “They’re great kids. Megan is so young she’s adjusted the best. Tim and Paul are coming along, too. Jill and Mitch Andrews make much better parents than I thought they would. Do you know them?”
“I think I used to see them at church. Your brother and his wife, too. They were a lovely family.”
Uh-oh, I said too much, Lindy decided when she saw his smile fade. The way he was staring at her made her uncomfortable, although she could not have said why if her life had depended upon it. There was no anger in his expression, nor was it the kind of intense look she sometimes got from single guys. Thad didn’t act as if he wanted to date her. He seemed to be trying to understand her instead.
That would be a good trick, she thought cynically. Since she didn’t have a clue what made her tick, there was no chance a stranger would be able to figure her out.
Choosing to simply finish the final bites of her pizza, she wiped her fingers on a napkin and started to clear her side of the table.
Before she could rise, however, Thad said, “Wait,” reached for her hand and laid his over it. There was no coercion, no threat and certainly no intimacy. She felt as if his touch was meant to convey empathy.
“I lost my dad when I was pretty young,” he explained. “It was my older brother, Rob, and my life in the military that saved me. Literally. I’ll never be able to repay that debt but I keep trying. No matter how hard you work at it, you can’t be a father to Danny.”
She tried to pull free her hand, although not hard enough to strain, and the intensity of his dark gaze deepened.
“Hear me out. The kid needs men in his life,” Thad said gently. “Bring him to my class Sunday mornings or take him anywhere else. I don’t care. Just find him somebody to look up to. For his sake.”
This time, when she eased away, he let her go. She wasn’t about to listen to advice from a stranger, even though they had both experienced traumatic pasts.
Lindy swept her crumpled napkin into her little pizza box, grabbed her empty soda cup and stood. She wanted to come up with some witty remark in parting but the man’s words were tying her tongue. So was the realization that he was probably right.
Just last night, after the prowlers had left, Danny had said he wished his father was there so he could feel safer. No matter how hard she tried to compensate, she could not be Ben.
She didn’t want to find someone else like him, either. Her late husband had been a liar and a thief and his short temper had left bruises on both her and—at the end—their son. She would never place Danny anywhere near a physically abusive relationship again. Never.
Halfway to the trash receptacle Lindy turned and glanced back. Thad was sitting very still, watching her, yet there was no judgment in his expression. On the contrary, it was so benevolent it made her feel as if she were wrapped in a warm, cozy blanket that would invisibly protect her from the world’s wickedness.
“I’ll think about it,” Lindy said quietly and saw him begin to nod before she looked away.
Somewhere in the depths of her confusion about practically everything in life, she sensed that she had already made that decision. Danny could benefit from knowing Thad Pearson. Therefore, she would take him to Sunday school. It might even be easier to convince herself to leave him in the care of that teacher than any of the ones at his elementary school.
Lindy smiled. There was an additional benefit for a mother who could hardly bear to let her only child out of her sight. At church, she could linger in the hallway outside Danny’s classroom and no one would think it a bit odd.
No one except, perhaps, his understanding teacher.
TWO
There weren’t many conundrums that bothered Thad Pearson for very long. After the years he’d spent in war zones, he was used to meeting challenges head-on. Right now, he figured he must be thinking about battle casualties again due to the familiar, wounded aura around the woman Samantha had railroaded him into eating with.
Lindy Southerland’s personal problems were probably common knowledge in Serenity, Arkansas, and for once he wished he’d paid more attention to gossip. He knew she was a widow because her husband had died a violent death in some kind of gang shoot-out, but that was about all.
“It’s enough,” Thad murmured, dumping his trash and heading for the café door. He didn’t have to know a lot about the kids he worked with to help them. Besides, that woman might never drum up enough courage to actually bring Danny to his class.
Mrs. Southerland was clearly scared to death. Not having known her prior to returning to the States, he had no idea if her unsettled persona was a new development or if she’d always been the nervous type. Either way, living with someone like that couldn’t be easy on the boy. If Danny was about the same age as his nephew, Timmy, then he was seven or eight. Not too young to understand simple logic or too old to be reached via kindness. A good age.
Thad checked his watch. He’d promised to refill the break room fridge with sodas for his crew and figured this was as good a time as any to swing by the store. He’d been trying to loosen up and not run the Pearson kitchen-gadget business with his usual military precision, but he knew he was still a long way from being the hassle-free kind of boss his brother, Rob, had been. Providing free sodas would be another step in the right direction.
Pushing his cart to the nearest of the two checkout stands at the little local market, he was surprised to recognize a familiar voice coming from the customer ahead of him in line.
“But it has to be good,” Lindy Southerland was insisting to the clerk. “I put plenty of money in that account a few days ago.”
When she exchanged that debit card for a credit card with a shake of her head, Thad was struck by how beautiful her reddish-blond hair was when it swung. During lunch he’d noticed it was long and framed her heart-shaped face but he’d been looking so intently into her green eyes, trying to read her thoughts, he hadn’t paid attention to much else. Now, however, he could appreciate the graceful way her hands were moving as she held them out, palms up, in supplication.
Lindy’s next words fit the pose perfectly. “What? That’s impossible. I almost never use that card. It can’t be maxed out.”
“It isn’t,” the clerk said. “It’s been canceled.”
“No way.”
Thad saw Lindy’s confusion and realized she was too frustrated to be thinking clearly. He stepped forward and opened his wallet. “Here. Let me get this for you.”
The emerald eyes widened when they met his. Recognition dawned. “No, thank you. I can take care of it.” She was rummaging in her copious shoulder bag. “I don’t usually carry my checkbook but it may be in here.”
“Well, since we’re holding up the line, how about I bail you out temporarily? You can pay me back after you figure out what’s wrong with your cards.”
Lindy sighed noisily. “I guess that will be okay. We are both friends of Samantha.”
Thad didn’t think this was the right time to inform her that he was less a friend of Samantha Rochard, now Waltham, than he was a former adversary. Oh, they had made their peace regarding the permanent placement of his niece and two nephews but that didn’t make them buddies. Thad could count his close friends on the fingers of one hand without using half the digits. His military doctors had been right when they’d warned him that he might not relate well to most folks, although he was beginning to warm up to Jill and Mitch, probably because of their connection to his brother’s children.
Paying his own bill as well as Lindy’s, Thad carried their groceries while she walked beside him and continued to paw through her purse.
“Which car is yours?” he asked.
“What? Oh, the silver one over there.”
“Nice.”
“It was my husband’s,” she said flatly. “It’s paid for and it gets good gas mileage so I kept it. I suppose I should have traded it in on a smaller model but I just never got around to it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a luxury car. Where do you want this stuff? In the trunk?”
“Yes.” She pressed a button on her key ring and the trunk unlatched with a click. “Thanks. I’ll pay you back as soon as I get everything sorted out.”
“No hurry. You know where to find me on Sunday mornings. I’m looking forward to meeting Danny.” The startled expression on her face made him chuckle wryly. “Not very subtle, am I?”
“No. Not very.” She began to smile and reached out, clearly offering to shake his hand.
Thad shifted his own grocery bags so he could oblige. He hadn’t anticipated feeling her tremble. It was not that cold for a short walk outside.
Rather than release her immediately, he held on long enough to ask, “What is it? What else is wrong?”
“Nothing, I...”
“Don’t you know it’s a sin to lie to a Sunday school teacher?”
“It’s a sin to lie to anybody,” Lindy said. She seemed to be struggling with a decision for a few moments before she sighed and spoke again. “It’s a long story. My house was burglarized recently. I surprised them in the act so I didn’t think anything was stolen.” Her forehead furrowed. “Now, I’m not sure. I mean, the cards are still in my purse. They can’t have been used.”
So that was the rest of the story he’d partially overheard. “You don’t have to have a card in hand to debit to it, you know. Look at sales on the internet. All you have to do is type in the right numbers and it’s a done deal.”
She paled and swayed slightly. “Oh, dear.”
“What did the police say about your break-in?” Thad asked, knowing what she’d probably say.
“I didn’t call them.”
“You should have.” He scowled, hoping his opinion would make her change her mind. “What stopped you?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Okay. Look, I have a little experience with computers. If you’ll let me, I’d like to help you.”
“What can you possibly do?”
“Start by checking your accounts to see when they were tampered with, file a claim to have the money r
eturned, then tighten up security to make sure nobody can do any more damage.” He paused, smiling at the irrationality of his suggestions and wondering why he’d made them. “Or, you could just swing by the bank on your way home and do all that in person.”
Lindy began to shake her head. “I can’t. My husband insisted we keep our accounts in Atlanta, even after we moved here, and I never got around to changing to a local bank.”
“Then my offer stands. I learned a lot of useful tricks while I was working for Uncle Sam. I’m pretty sure I can help you.”
“I’d heard you were a soldier. I had no idea that job involved computers.”
“We had guns, too,” Thad said, continuing to smile for her benefit. “I was taught to handle both.” He eyed an old blue pickup that was parked several spaces away. “There’s my truck. Since you didn’t buy any perishables you can follow me to my office and we can get started right away.”
“I don’t know, I...”
He held up his free hand as though taking an oath. “I promise you. I am one of the good guys. I even have the medals to prove it. I can dig them out and show you if necessary.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Good, then hop in your car and let’s go.”
“Why are you doing this?” Lindy asked, still acting hesitant.
“Because you look like somebody who needs help and I’m in a position to offer it, that’s all. No ulterior motives. Scout’s honor.”
It was easy to tell she remained anxious. He assumed that was because of those useless bank cards and the fact that someone had violated her privacy. He could understand feeling that way. He just hoped she would take him up on his offer instead of changing her mind and driving off.
Watching in his rearview mirror, he was relieved to see the silver sedan pull out and fall smoothly into line behind him. She was going to let him help. Good. If he’d ever met someone who needed a friend it was Lindy Southerland.
Why care? he asked himself. That was an excellent question. Perhaps it was because of the woman’s demeanor. Or maybe it was meeting a widow who was raising her child alone that had tapped into his conscience and created such a strong desire to offer assistance.
Standing Guard Page 2