Then, gathering his surveillance gear, he went about hiding the baby monitors strategically around several low windows and entrances. The receivers he would keep in his bedroom, so if “someone” came snooping around, he’d be alerted. Next, he set up one of the game cameras just around the bend in the driveway, where he’d the suspicion his perp was parking. The second he placed at the front corner of the house in a bush, thinking it would be a likely place for them to pass.
Finally he began the task of installing the motion sensor lights in various spots. With his plan in action, he’d hear Neil, see Neil and hopefully catch Neil red-handed, both on camera and in person. Gold for the prosecution.
That his goal, he leaned the ladder against a tree and climbed up, twisting some wiring when the airway around him buzzed.
“I can’t sleep, copy that.”
Strangely thrilled to hear her voice, he gave a chuckle and reached for his radio. “Copy that. Something on your mind?”
“Are you being ironic?”
“Okay, stupid question.” Of course she was tossing and turning and driving herself crazy after the last twenty-four hours. “Tried counting sheep?”
“Give me your pistol and I’ll start picking them off one by one.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“All in a day.” Despite her joking, there was something vulnerable in her tone. Fragile.
He eased his way down the ladder rungs to the solid safety of hard ground. Leaning his back to the tree, he stared up the endless night sky. God, help me out here.
Hope needed guidance. Someone to hold her hand and lead her from the dark places in her heart.
By why Caleb? Why not someone like Noah, who was capable of the simple act of a smile? Who knew how to take a hard situation and make light? People laughed around Noah. Felt at ease.
These days, no one felt comfortable around Caleb.
“Try good memories, you copy?” The suggestion popped to his mind and slipped from his lips before he’d much time to consider where it came from.
“What?”
“My mother always says you ‘make your mindset’.” For a while, after the accident, both Ma and Noah nearly drove Caleb to the loony bin with their positive talk.
He’d walk normal again, they’d insisted. Be a cop again. Was good-looking and handsome as ever.
Despite their optimism, he’d always known wasn’t so. Had, at times, wanted to give them a shake and demand they get real.
Now, looking back, he was glad they’d refused to allow him to sink into complete self-pity.
“Instead of counting fears tonight, count your blessings.” Hope still didn’t respond, so again he urged her, “Think of a really happy time, copy that?”
“Yeah, I copy.” Several seconds ticked on, empty. Finally, she asked, “What’s yours?”
“Mine?” Wasn’t he supposed to be helping her fall asleep?
“Count me one of your blessings.”
“Sure,” he easily agreed. “I’ve got a barrel full.”
Funny, how easy it was to boast such a statement and how difficult it proved to pinpoint which blessing to actually share. “I had a great childhood.”
“Tell me something about it.”
After several moments of chaotic thoughts, his mind settled on a memory he’d hadn’t dwelt on in a long time.
“On boring summer afternoons when we’d nothing better to do as kids, we had this rope that hung from the rafters in the barn. We’d climb to the hayloft and swing down into the pile of hay like we were Texas Tarzans. Have competitions to see how could jump the farthest.”
“Sounds fun.”
Certain this conversation had just gotten started, Caleb slid down the tree trunk and sat, the ground cold beneath him. In the distance, the lake rippled under the moon’s glow. “You know what I remember the most?”
“What’s that?”
Lead me, Lord. “The way the bright sun streamed through the slats in the barn, glinting off the hay like it was pure gold.”
“Hmmm. That’s nice,” she murmured softly, bringing to mind the image of her snuggled in bed, her beautiful blonde curls swathed around her.
“This is going to sound strange but your hair reminds me of that glint.” He was glad when even though he released the button, she didn’t respond, allowing him to go on. “You’re so sad most times, Hope, but you’ve got this glimmer of spirit under your surface.” He thought of her giving that boy a ride on the handicap cart, all giggles and smiles. Her laughter as she beat him in Mousetrap a third time around. The way she played with Samson, her patience with the dog who was always underfoot. “I wish you’d let yourself shine. I bet it’d be a beautiful thing.”
Empty airspace stretched between them, ticking with uncertainty. Had he gone too far? How would she respond? Had he possibly reached her? Would he ever?
“Hope?”
The radio buzzed, foreshadowing her response. “Tell me one for now. How are you blessed now?”
No doubt she meant it as a challenge. Some way of proving his trials in life were unmovable weights.
But they weren’t, not any more than hers. When he thought of all he’d been through and accomplished in the past two years—healing. Painful skin graphing. Physical therapy. Struggling to walk again.
It was amazing. God was amazing. “Every morning, I venture down to the lake and dive in. I swim in the waves, feel the breeze upon my skin. The Lord’s light on my back.” As he spoke, Caleb realized God was speaking to him as much as he to Hope. “You see, every morning, I wake up. To this beautiful world. To possibility. Some days are harder than others and I even get angry, sure. But you don’t live though something like I did and not greet each day thankful.”
And he was, he realized with striking conviction…oh, so thankful. Just to breathe. To be here, in this moment.
Purpose, usefulness…that knowledge would come. Somehow. Someway.
“Because pain is fuel, right?” she quoted him.
Caleb’s cheek twitched with the urge to smile and he did not repress the instinct.
Here he’d convinced himself his newfound friendship with Hope was about helping her.
But maybe they were meant to help each other. “That’s right. Just as a parent uses punishment, sometimes God uses pain to make us stronger in our weaknesses.”
“But you didn’t do anything to deserve that explosion.”
“Maybe. But maybe, Hope, I didn’t do anything not to deserve it.” He’d been realizing his dream. His passion. Even helping others, he often justified.
But in the end, he’d been living for himself.
“Maybe God wants more from me. Maybe He knows I can do better.”
“You sure are good at this.”
“At what?”
“Turning rhyme into reason.”
Which could only mean one thing—he was reaching her.
Deep within, Caleb welled with pride. Not the smug, arrogant kind but of pure satisfaction. Pleasure and delight. Accomplishment.
“Perhaps a goodnight prayer?”
“Okay…sure.”
And so the cracks in her walls spread deeper. Wider.
Hope was not so unreachable after all.
His cheeks burned from sheer happiness as he poured out his heart to God, aware of all the times he’d prayed, maybe this was the most significant because Hope was listening. Soaking it all in.
Being introduced to the God who would prove her best friend, as soon as she opened her heart to him.
Of all the thieves and drug kingpins Caleb had busted, of all the murders he’d solved, he’d never known such completion as he did in that moment. In that prayer and ministering to Hope.
God was truly good.
Chapter Twelve
The hum of parents and happy children buzzed through the hall of the basement classrooms as the day ended. Having just dismissed her last student, Hope hovered over a table collecting crayons.
“M’sses Peard-son,
” came a tugging at her denim skirt.
Turning, Hope found little freckle-nosed, red-haired Adam McAllister gazing up at her with big blue eyes. “Why, you’re back.” She lowered herself to his height. “How can I help you? Have you forgotten something?”
“Adam has something to tell you,” his mother, of similar coloring, answered from the doorway.
“You put this in my folder. But it’s for you, see?” He held up the yellow construction paper. On it, a big heart surrounded two stick people—one short and one tall. At the bottom read simply “God.” “That’s you and that’s me.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize,” Hope accepted the drawing. “It’s lovely! I’m going to hang this up right away. Thank you.”
To her delight, the child threw himself into her arms. “I love you.”
“I love you too, darling.” After a hearty squeeze, Adam went jaunting off and Hope waved to his mother, thanking her.
Still kneeling there, she studied the picture, amazed.
Of all the drawings and affection she’d received from children over the years, none had struck her quite so directly in the heart. Touched her so.
The children clearly loved Elise and missed her. Hope had provided an opportunity for the class to make her a card and Adam had used his spare time afterwards not to play blocks but to construct this picture. It was her first day at Island Odyssey, the child barely knew her, yet Adam loved her.
He’d not only drawn a big heart encircling them but one on her stick figure chest, big and bright red. As if to indicate the capacity of her heart.
The heart she’d restricted for so very long now.
“You okay?”
Moisture pooling in her eyes, Hope realized Caleb hovered in the doorway, arrived to pick her up.
His ruggedly masculine voice wrapped around her, hugging her in the comfort of his presence.
After last night, she felt a camaraderie with him she’d never experienced with another before. Not bothering to hide her wet eyes, she rose and went to the table that served as a makeshift desk. “I’m great.” For once, that wasn’t just a line.
Despite her initial nervousness, everything about today had proven as wonderful as she remembered. Every moment of it overflowing with songs and games and the joy of children.
“So what’s the matter then?”
Gladly, she shined a genuine smile upon him. “Absolutely nothing. I was just very touched.” Pulling a piece of tape, she hung her picture on the wall. “You see?”
With those lopsided steps, he meandered into the classroom, glanced at the picture she’d hung and frowned down at her. “That’s real nice. Did you have a good day?”
Funny, how she now saw that glower as warmth. In his eyes, she witnessed his smile.
“Yes.” Oh, yes.
As expected, Elise had a detailed outline of the entire week. A teen had stopped by in the morning to make photocopies and do cut-outs for her. Hope’s job was filled with the pure joy of interacting with the children. Teaching them about Jesus.
Her, Hope Pearson, who’d for years had sworn she’d never trust God again, much less a man. Still didn’t, not really. Yet here she was, leading others to do exactly that. The irony of her situation was almost laughable.
Gathering her jacket and belongings in a bag, Hope slung both over her shoulder and met him at the door. “Shall we?”
“We shall.” Offering his arm, he hit the lights and led her from the room. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Well then, as long as it doesn’t involve you suddenly sweeping me off my feet, I can’t wait.”
* * * *
“Make that I can wait.”
Ten minutes later, sand ground under Hope’s sandals as she stood on the boardwalk under the bright, warm sun, surrounded by the laughter of tourists and locals alike as they splashed and played at Serenity Cove’s beach.
“You have to learn to swim sometime.”
“Says who?” Unease spread through Hope at the thought of venturing in the water past her thighs.
Standing on the pavement, Caleb hovered in the open truck door amidst the bing, bing, bing of the interior bell.
“Says logic.” He tugged off a boot and sock, revealing huge, white masculine toes. “Much as I enjoy your company, I can’t spend the rest of my life shuttling you back and forth across the lake whenever you need a lift into town and you shouldn’t be in a boat without knowing how to swim.”
All very valid points, she agreed silently as she recalled her first day in Serenity Cove and the terror she’d experienced in that boat.
If someone wanted to kill her without much question, drowning was certainly a viable option.
But Hope had tried to learn to swim at Neil’s country club. She’d only embarrassed him.
Some people floated, others sank like stones. She was a big boulder when it came to water.
“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”
“Sweetheart, Pa’s collie is thirteen and just mastered the art of fetching a soda from the fridge. That’s what, ninety-one in dog years? You’re how old, twenty-six?” He worked at the other boot. “You should teach Samson that, by the way.”
The knot gripping Hope’s stomach tightened.
“But I’m hungry. I really need to eat something.”
The boots disappeared into his truck and out followed a huge cooler and blanket. “I packed a picnic. We can eat while you tell me about your day then we’ll swim.”
“I’ll get a cramp.”
“We’ll wait thirty minutes. You should take off your shoes, you know.”
“But I don’t have a suit.”
He hitched a thumb toward the beach-themed souvenir shop behind them. “Janice sells a small selection. Go pick one out and put it on in the dressing room.”
“But my ankle—”
“Seemed fine today. You left your crutches home. You’re bruise on your face is almost vanished too. Just a little yellow.” He slammed the door shut and handed over her purse. “Besides, we’ll only approach the very basics this go round.”
She realized she was being whiny and contrary but did the confounded man have to have an answer for everything?
“You need to face this, Hope. Just trust me, okay?”
She opened her mouth to respond then clamped it shut, turning away. He wanted her to buy a suit? Fine and dandy. Wanted her to try to swim? Whatever.
She told herself she didn’t feel like arguing. That a lifeguard was on duty. Even that he had a point after all. She really should learn to swim, if it were possible.
Anything to avoid the warning bells popping off in her mind as she realized how deeply his simple request to trust him in this intimate manner affected her. She did, in so many ways—she had faith he’d protect her. Support her as a friend. Not allow her to drown. But there was still one part she held back.
The important part—her heart.
She wanted to give him her one-hundred percent confidence in everything but Neil still lurked in her mind, proof of the risk she took. Even bigger than learning to swim.
But Caleb wasn’t asking her to marry him. He was asking her to put on a bathing suit, however personal that felt.
“Forget eating.” If she had to do this then she wanted to get it over with. Wanted to take a step toward a new her. “I’m not really hungry after all.”
When he said Janice had a small selection, he hadn’t been kidding. In total, five bikinis and two one-pieces hung on the rack. Her choice was easy—the only one in her size was in a bright aqua blue intended more for a teenager, though thankfully it modestly covered her body. On the front bore a tidal wave rising over the logo, “Double Dare,” for Serenity Cove’s famed waterslide that twisted, looped and dumped young folks in deep water all summer long.
Just another childhood pleasure Hope had pressed her nose against the glass and missed.
Tearing the tag from the bathing suit, she draped herself in the biggest, bluest beach towel she could
find then paid some gawky pimple-faced kid for both.
Hiking into the bright day, she locked her clothes and purse in the truck and met Caleb on the seaweed littered sand, heart pattering a mile a minute.
“Ready?”
“Never.”
He took her hand anyway, she dropped her towel and together they ventured into the cool water that sent a shiver up her spine. Every step forward felt like a million as the depth crept up her thighs, higher and higher, until waves bobbed at her chest.
“Caleb, wait.” Instinctively, she wrenched back but his grasp refused release. “Wait, I can’t!”
The water touched her chin.
“Trust me,” he insisted again. Whether she liked it or not, he urged her forward. “I have you. God has you.”
Caleb was all the risk she was willing to take.
The ground went out from her feet. “Caleb!” Grabbing at the t-shirt he wore, she bobbed right into his waiting embrace. “Don’t let me go!
“Just relax. Breathe.”
“I can’t.” Hope went straight as an arrow, certain as soon as he released his hold she was going straight to the bottom. “Put me back, please.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve got you. I swim this everyday, remember?”
“Yeah, but not with my added weight.”
“You’re a feather.” His hand felt huge and powerful as it cradled her waist while the other swished back and forth in the water. “Listen to me, we humans float naturally. It’s one of God’s gifts and I’ll prove it.”
“I don’t float.”
“Your fear is that you’ll sink, so your muscles go rigid and you lose your buoyancy.”
“No kidding.”
“I promise you, if you relax, work with me, you’ll be amazed.”
“I’ll try,” was all she could provide.
Because she was counting on his support—and completely at his mercy—she’d no choice as he guided her onto her back.
“Can you straighten your body? Relax into my hands.”
“No.”
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