Love Inspired March 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: North Country FamilySmall-Town MidwifeProtecting the Widow's Heart

by Lois Richer

  “Let me help.”

  Ginger’s soft voice stilled him; her hands on his shoulders sent a rush of heat through his veins. Slowly, she began to massage his shoulders and neck. Her hands were strong and sure, finding the knots and working them loose. “You’ve done this before.”

  “I had to learn some techniques to help John.”

  Ty decided it was time to make things right. Reaching up, he took her wrists in his hands and gently pulled her arms down across his chest until her face was beside his. “I was a jerk this morning. Forgive me?”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Ty closed his eyes as her breath caressed his cheek. “I was jealous.”

  “I figured that out.”

  He released her hands, turning to look at her. “Are you upset?” The smile she gave him sent his heart soaring. “I shouldn’t have carried that bundle of shingles to the roof. I was trying to impress you, and you didn’t even see me. Dumb, huh?”

  “Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest, but there was a smile on her lips. “But I was impressed.”

  Happiness bubbled up inside his chest like a kid’s first Christmas. Now he could sleep and dream of a green-eyed beauty who warmed his heart.

  * * *

  Ty inched his truck forward a few more feet. The line to pick up EJ from school was moving slowly today. He shifted in the seat, realizing that his shoulders didn’t ache today, thanks to Ginger’s skilled hands. Now if he could find more skilled hands to help at the Stantons’, he’d be a lot more hopeful. He appreciated the members who had stepped up to volunteer. Each one had come with willing hands and loving hearts, reminding him how much Dover and its citizens meant to him. But they needed more help if they were going to have the job done on schedule.

  Ty pulled the truck to a stop beside the school’s side door, waiting as EJ climbed in, dumped his backpack on the floor and fastened his seat belt.

  “How’d it go today, buddy?” Ty steered the vehicle to the end of the drive and around the cafeteria building, following the painted arrows on the asphalt to the exit. He looked forward to picking EJ up each day. They spent the afternoons together fishing, tossing a football or hiking the trails along the lake when the weather permitted. The boy was bright and curious, with a great sense of humor.

  “Awesome. Tyster, do you like being a cop?”

  Ty glanced over at him. The inquisitive brown eyes were watching him intently. “Yes. I do. Why do you ask?”

  “Willy Sanders’s dad came to the school today. He’s a cop. I think cops are cool.”

  “You do?” A knot formed in Ty’s chest. Ginger would not be pleased with his new interest. “Why’s that?”

  “They help people.”

  “They try. It’s part of their job. Do you know what the policeman’s motto is?” EJ shook his head. “To protect and serve.”

  “Is that why they have guns? To protect people?”

  “Right.”

  “What’s the serve part mean?”

  “That’s the helping part. Like after an accident or with an argument, things like that.”

  “The cops helped me and my mom after my dad got shot.”

  Ty inhaled slowly. This was a topic EJ should discuss with his mother. But he didn’t want to discourage the boy from talking, either. “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “They came and talked to Mom, then they made us go stand with other people so we’d be safe. There were lots of policemen and firemen, and all kinds of trucks and stuff.”

  “That must have been scary.”

  EJ nodded. “My daddy took a ride in the ambulance.”

  “I know.” EJ rode quietly for a while, and Ty assumed he was remembering the day his father was shot.

  “Tyster? Do you have a gun and a badge?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why don’t you wear ’em? Cops wear guns. Willy’s dad had a gun and a badge and handcuffs.”

  “I don’t have my gun or badge right now because I’m on leave of absence.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  Unwilling to talk about the details of his shooting with the boy, Ty searched for a simple explanation. “I got injured on the job a few months ago, and I have to get better before I can go back to work.”

  EJ mulled that over a moment. “We all got to hold Willy’s dad’s badge. It was really heavy.”

  The simple statement landed like a stone in Ty’s chest. The weight of that small badge had become heavier than he’d ever imagined.

  He glanced at EJ, who was staring out the window. Should he encourage him to talk or let the subject rest? Maybe he should tell Ginger about the conversation. But then he’d be betraying EJ’s trust. The boy was fishing for something. He just didn’t know what. Maybe it was best he didn’t interfere. If EJ brought up the subject again, then he’d mention it to Ginger.

  * * *

  Ginger pushed the start button on the dishwasher, then picked up the dishrag and wiped down the counter, draping it over the side of the sink when she finished. Cleanup had been quicker tonight. Ty had returned to the job site. She missed him. The cabin felt strange without his energetic presence.

  She headed down the hall to her son’s room. “Time to turn out the lights, sweetie.”

  EJ rolled onto his side, propping his head on his hand. “Mom, can we stay here?”

  She sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to stroke his dark brown hair. “You mean in the cabin? We’ll stay until we can go to Grandma’s.”

  “No. I mean forever. I like it here.”

  A pit opened up in Ginger’s stomach. “Elliot, this isn’t our home. You know we’re only here because of the car breaking down.”

  “I know, but I like my school, and I have friends, and everyone here is nice. Nobody yells or gets mad and stuff.”

  The pit in her stomach widened. The only memories her son had of his father was the shouting and anger. It wasn’t a legacy she wanted him to have. “We’ve met a lot of nice people, but it’s still not our home. We’re just visiting—like a long vacation. You get to live in a cabin by the lake, go fishing, play ball with Ty and enjoy the Durrants on Sunday. That’s a pretty cool vacation.”

  “That’s why I want to stay. Ty and Kenny are my friends.”

  “And they are very good friends. We’ll just have to enjoy them as much as we can until we leave. You’ll have lots of wonderful memories to take with you.”

  “You can’t hug a memory.”

  Ginger pulled her son close. She was collecting a lot of memories herself. All of them involving Ty. Like remembering the feel of his strong arms, and the kiss that made her smile each time she thought about it. The cabin had become her fortress of safety and happiness, and Ty her knight in shining armor, standing guard to protect her. She wished she could stay here, too. But she wasn’t a princess, and Ty wasn’t a knight. He was a cop.

  “Go to sleep, sweetheart. We’ll talk more about this tomorrow.”

  Ty was tapping at the front door when she returned to the living room. He stepped inside, his expression revealing his fatigue. Her heart went out to him. He worked hard. She was certain he gave all his effort at whatever he tackled, whether building a house, enforcing the law or loving a family. Another reason to wish they could stay in Dover.

  “Are you hungry?” He nodded, pulling off his coat and hanging it on the peg. “Go, sit down. I’ll bring you a plate.”

  Ty took a seat on the sofa, one foot propped up on the coffee table, staring into the fireplace. She could tell by the slope of his shoulders he was worried about something. She handed him a plate of beef stew, then sat beside him, picking up one of the throw pillows and hugging it to her chest. She let him eat before she expressed her concern. “What’s on your mind? The Stanton house or your future?”<
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  He sighed, and shook his head. “I saw the volunteer list today. I know you’re doing all you can, and I’m grateful for those who are willing to help, but we can’t get this house done on time without more people.”

  Ginger’s spirits sagged. Her efforts to recruit workers wasn’t as fruitful as she’d hoped. She didn’t like letting people down, especially Ty. “I’m so sorry. I was so sure I could convince everyone to help.”

  He squeezed her hand. “It’s not your fault. Just the way it is.”

  “Can you hire the work done?”

  “We could, but that would eat into the donation funds. We’d like to keep some in reserve to give the Stantons toward medical bills and living expenses after they come home.”

  Ginger understood the crushing burden of medical bills. “Do the volunteers have to come from churches?”

  Ty looked up. “No. I guess not.”

  “Could they come from other organizations?”

  “I suppose. Why?”

  Ginger clasped his large hand in both of hers. “Well, I’ve been thinking.”

  He exhaled a huff of air. “Dad always groans when Mom says that.”

  “Hush. We found people at Hope Chapel willing to help. Maybe we should ask some of the other churches, and the police and fire departments. They might have people who would help.”

  Ty stared at her, his eyes warming with a smile. “You are a very smart lady. I should have thought of that. I’ll talk to Brady first thing tomorrow. If we can get the windows in and the siding on in the next couple days, we’ll be back on schedule.” He reached out and tugged lightly on her stray curl. “Virginia Sloan, you are amazing.”

  Chapter Nine

  The morning rain had moved out, leaving behind a clear, crisp and sunny afternoon. Perfect pigskin weather. Ty took several rapid steps backward, raising the football over his head and pointing with his free hand for EJ to go long. The boy backpedaled, raising his arms. Ty sent the ball through the chill air toward the boy, smiling as it landed in his arms, wobbled, then fell to the ground. He laughed. “Good try, buddy. You almost had it.”

  “You’ve lost your touch, Durrant.”

  Ty whirled around at the familiar voice. Brady Reynolds strolled slowly toward him across the yard. “Hey, what brings you out here? Don’t you have important police work back in town?”

  Brady extended his hand. “Nothing that can’t wait.” He smiled as EJ joined them. “You wouldn’t know from that puny toss he just threw, but Ty used to be a pretty decent quarterback. ’Course, he was younger then.”

  EJ laughed and hugged the football. “Are you a policeman like Tyster?”

  Brady raised an eyebrow at the nickname, slanting a look at Ty. Ty shrugged. “Brady, this is Elliot Sloan. Ginger’s son. EJ, this is my old friend Brady Reynolds.”

  “I’m the chief of police in Dover. That’s better than being an ordinary detective.” Brady leaned down and winked. “I get to drive a police car.”

  EJ’s eyes widened. “Really? Did you bring it today?”

  “Sure did. Want to go see it?”

  EJ bounced with excitement. “Yes.”

  The trio walked around the cabin to the driveway where the black-and-white cruiser was parked.

  “So, what are you really doing here, Brady?”

  “Just on a call, and thought I’d swing by and see how the Stanton project is coming along. I’m scheduled to work this Saturday along with several of my guys.”

  “That’s great. We might get this house back on schedule after all.” Ty stopped beside the cruiser parked behind his truck.

  “Wow.” EJ stared in awe at the vehicle. “Can I sit inside?”

  Brady chuckled and unlocked the car. “Sure. I’ll show you where all the cool gadgets are.”

  EJ slid in behind the wheel while Brady hunkered down and pointed out all the equipment, from dashboard computer and sirens to lights and scanners.

  Ty crossed his arms over his chest, smiling at the boy’s delight. EJ was a great kid. He’d miss him when he left. A lump formed suddenly in his chest. He’d miss him a lot.

  The SUV pulling into the drive diverted his attention. Ginger was home, and he hadn’t even thought about supper. But inventing new meals was something they both enjoyed. He watched her climb from the car, but the expression on her face put a knot in his gut. Her green eyes were dark with fury. Her mouth set in a hard, angry line.

  She strode to the patrol car, searing him with a scalding glare before turning her burning gaze on her son. “Elliot. Get out of there and go inside. Right now.”

  Brady rose and stepped back, a deep frown on his face, his hand holding the car door open.

  “But, Mom, Brady was showing me all the cool stuff in the police car. I even got to...”

  “Now! Go!”

  EJ started to speak, but Ginger jabbed her finger toward the house. He obeyed without a word, but the tears in his eyes revealed his hurt feelings. Ginger turned and glared at Ty. He suddenly felt like a kid who’d ruined his mother’s prize china figurine. He fell back on habit. “Uh, Brady, this is Ginger Sloan, EJ’s mother. Ginger, this is Chief Brady Reynolds.”

  “Ma’am.” Brady touched his hat, then sent a sympathetic glance at Ty before sliding behind the wheel and starting the engine. “We’ll talk later.”

  Ty watched the car pull away and drive off, dreading what was to come. Steeling himself, he faced Ginger. And knew he was about to get reamed.

  * * *

  It was all Ginger could do to hold her tongue as she stormed around the cabin and out onto the pier. She needed time to get her anger under control before talking to EJ. The sound of boots on the wooden planks alerted her to Ty’s presence. She turned and unleashed her anger. “What are you doing letting my son play in a police car?”

  “He wasn’t playing. He was exploring. Brady was showing him the equipment, that’s all.”

  “That’s all? Are you serious? I have enough trouble keeping his hero worship for you under control. He thinks you’re some kind of superhero. I took some comfort from the fact that you aren’t really a policeman here. No gun. No badge. Just a guy. But now, you’re feeding his fantasies by showing him all the nifty gadgets you danger junkies play with.”

  “Ginger...”

  She held up her hand to stop him. “But you never tell him about the ugly part. The risk, the pain. How could you do that when you know how I feel about your job, and guns, and all that comes with them? I don’t want him dreaming about being a cop.”

  Ty frowned, placing his hands on his hips. “He’s almost eight. He’ll want to be a dozen different things by the time he has to decide.”

  Ginger shook her head. “No. Ty, this isn’t going to work. I appreciate all you’ve done for us. Especially with Elliot, but I think it would be best if you backed off on your relationship with my son. It’s going to be hard enough for him when we leave. We might as well start putting some distance between us before we get entangled in each other’s lives more than we already are.”

  “Ginger, I think you’re overreacting.”

  “Am I? He’s a very impressionable little boy. He told me about the policeman who visited the school yesterday, and now he’s sitting in a real police car. I don’t want his head filled with dreams that could get him hurt.”

  “I would never hurt him. You know that.”

  “Not on purpose, but you are. You’re glorifying a profession I don’t want him thinking about. It’s got to stop. Now.”

  She watched as his blue eyes darkened, then narrowed. His jaw tightened, the muscle flexing rapidly. “Fine. You want distance. You got it.”

  He strode briskly toward the boathouse. Ginger held her breath, anger and fear pulsing in her veins. She’d hurt him, but she’d had no choice. He didn’t u
nderstand the way a little boy thought. Ty was a grown man. In time he’d come to see she was right. The argument only pointed up how comfortable she’d gotten here and how dependent she was on Ty’s help. But it wasn’t too late. All she had to do was focus on her job, get the stupid car paid for and get to Arizona.

  Inhaling a ragged breath, she started back to the cabin. Now she had EJ to deal with. How could she make him understand? The aftermath of her anger left her shaky and drained. As she crossed the deck, she saw the lights go out in the boathouse and Ty emerge. He had his duffel in his hand and his computer case over his shoulder. He crossed the lawn with long, determined strides, disappearing around the side of the cabin. The sound of the truck door slamming and the motor roaring to life signaled his departure.

  Ty was leaving. She felt cold all over. It was best this way. Time apart would give them all a chance to regain perspective. But as she stood on the deck, a powerful and unexpected wave of loneliness rushed through her, bringing tears to her eyes. How would she get along without Ty? She closed her eyes and dug deep. She didn’t need Ty Durrant. She’d come this far on her own; she’d go the rest of the way. She’d been distracted by the safety and comfort of Dover, of the Durrants. Her long-held dream of love and family had materialized, and she’d allowed herself to indulge in the fantasy.

  She opened the cabin door. Fantasy time was over. Seeing EJ in the police car, and the uniformed officer with a gun on his hip, had hit her like a sledgehammer in the chest. She saw clearly what Ty did for a living, and the repercussions of that profession. She’d been living in denial about his job. Cooking together, working on the project, losing her heart to him, had made it easy to forget what he was.

  Inside, she glanced around for her son, but the living room was empty. He was probably in his room. As she walked down the hall, she tried to find a simple way to explain her anger over seeing him in a police car. How could she make him understand that she didn’t want him dreaming of being a policeman? It was dangerous. He could get hurt or worse. Injured like his father.