by Lois Richer
EJ was stretched out on the bed when she peeked in. Barney Brim in his hands. His sweet face was pulled into a dejected frown. Steeling herself, she sat on the edge of the bed. His dark brown eyes, so like his father’s, looked up full of questions and confusion.
“What did I do wrong, Mom?”
She reached out and stroked his silky dark hair. “Nothing, honey. I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”
“I was just looking at the police car. I didn’t break anything. Honest.”
“I know. But when I saw you in that car...it made me think of how dangerous a policeman’s job is.”
“But policemen help people, too. They’re heroes.”
“You’re right.”
EJ sat up. “So can I go talk to Ty?”
“Ty’s decided to stay at his parents’ house for a while. They miss him.”
Elliot sat up, his mouth in a tight line. “No, he didn’t. You made him go, didn’t you? You don’t like him.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. I love Ty, and you’re mean.” He ran out of the room.
She heard the door slam as he went outside, and the sound of his pounding feet on the deck as he went. Ginger raked her fingers through her hair. What a mess she’d made. She was only now beginning to realize the consequences of her outburst. Who would pick EJ up from school tomorrow and watch him? Would Ty ask them to leave the cabin now? Would he want his car back? Hers still wasn’t ready.
Maybe she should apologize and ask him to come back. No, that would be grossly unfair. Using his kindness to get herself out of a difficult situation was out of the question. He deserved better. He’d been a kind and generous friend. She exhaled a sigh. She’d deal with Ty tomorrow. First, she had to make things right with her son. But how?
* * *
Ty opened the back door to his parents’ home, his heart heavy, his guilt even heavier. What had he been thinking? He should have anticipated Ginger’s reaction to finding EJ in the cruiser. He knew what she feared most.
His mother was curled up in the family room with a book and glanced up as he entered, her expression revealing her surprise. She’d probably been expecting his dad. “Hey, Mom.”
“Ty, sweetheart. What brings you by today?” She laid her book down and came to him, hands touching his cheeks lovingly. “I’m so glad to see you. But something is wrong. I can see it in your eyes. Do you want something to eat or drink?”
He shook his head, setting his duffel on the floor. His mother noticed it and frowned.
“Ty? What’s going on?”
“I thought I’d come home for a couple of days, if that’s all right.”
“Of course it is, but you’ve been pretty firm about not staying here.” She took his arm and steered him toward the kitchen. “Sit.”
He did as he was told, knowing what was coming next. A glass of cold milk and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. Apparently, no matter how old a guy got, or how dangerous his job, his mom thought cookies and milk were the way to open him up.
He rested his elbows on the granite kitchen counter until his mom had poured herself a cup of hot tea and set the snack in front of him. “I feel like I’m ten years old again.”
“You look like it, too. Now, what’s going on?”
“I screwed up, Mom. With Ginger. Big-time.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I like her. I think you two might have a real connection.”
“Meaning?” He took a cookie from the plate.
“That you’re attracted to each other. You seem comfortable together. It’s nice. And that little boy adores you.”
“He’s a great kid. But as for me and Ginger, that’s not going to happen. I’ve told you before, women don’t want to get involved with cops. It’s rough, never knowing if your husband will come home, waiting for the phone call and the officers to show up at your front door.”
“Has she said that?”
He nodded. “Loud and clear.”
“I’m surprised. She seems like such a strong young woman.”
“She is. Strongest woman I ever met. Even more than Laura, and she’s pretty tough.” He laughed softly.
“Does she have a reason to feel this way about your job?”
“A good one. Her husband was a security guard. He was shot and left paralyzed. He died last year from his injuries, but the shooting has left Ginger with a deep fear of guns and violence, and life in general, I think. Getting involved with a cop isn’t something she’s looking to do.”
“I see. So, how did you mess up?”
Ty clasped his hands together in front of him on the counter. “Brady Reynolds stopped by the cabin in his patrol car. EJ was with me, and he was all excited about the car. So Brady let him sit behind the wheel and toy with some of the equipment. He was having so much fun, it never occurred to me to tone it down.”
“Then Ginger came home and found her son captivated by a police car?”
“How did you guess?”
“I’m a mother. I could see where this was going.”
“Wish I would have. Ginger was furious. She chewed me out big-time and...” He glanced away toward the back window, trying to ease the sting of her words. “She asked me to back off from EJ. She doesn’t want us spending so much time together.” His mother reached over and rested her hand on his forearm.
“I’m so sorry, son. Maybe after she has time to cool down, she’ll change her mind. I don’t imagine EJ is going to be too happy about you leaving.”
“No. We’ve become close. I look forward to our afternoons together.”
“Well, you can stay here as long as you like. You know that.”
“Thanks, Mom.” The rattle of the back door sounded as Tom Durrant walked into the room.
“Hey, Tyler. Or should I say Tyster?” He came over and patted his shoulder. “You come to have supper with the old folks?”
“Supper. Breakfast. Whatever else.”
“Oh? What’s going on?”
Ty made a hasty explanation, omitting some of what he’d told his mother.
“You know what? This is actually perfect timing. I’ve got a Handy Works project that I’ve been needing to do, but most guys I know are tied up with the Stanton house. I think you and I can get it done in a day if you’re up to it.”
Ty eyed his dad suspiciously. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been drawn into a project that was more work than he’d expected. “Go on.”
“There’s this elderly couple out on Holt Road, Jean and Ross Carter, who have an old shed that needs to be torn down and hauled off. They found a vagrant sleeping in there a few weeks ago. Scared them pretty bad. What do you say? Provided you can get away from the project house.”
Ty nodded. “Shaw McKinney is taking over for the weekend. Who’s going to watch the store?”
“Adam’s got it under control. That boy’s a born merchant.”
Ty wasn’t in the mood to hear the praises of his oh-so-perfect, soon-to-be brother-in-law. “Sure. Fine. When do you want to start?”
Dad smiled. “The crack of early tomorrow. It’s been a long time since we’ve had any father-son time. This’ll be great. I’ll schedule a Dumpster to be delivered out there first thing tomorrow. I hear Ginger has tapped into a new source of volunteers?”
“Yeah, she’s called a couple other churches, and we’ve contacted the Dover police and fire. Several of those guys have construction experience. The plumbing crew should finish up today, and electrical said they’d wrap up tomorrow. That puts us back on schedule.”
“Good to hear. Lee Stanton is a good man.” His dad held his gaze a moment, a faint smile brightening his eyes. “Ginger’s a very strong young woman. One of a kind.”
“Yes. She is.”
“As l
ong as you’re aware of that fact.”
Later, as he settled into his old room, thoughts of Ginger filled his mind. She never ceased to amaze him with her strength and determination. But he didn’t like her and EJ being out at the cabin alone. Nels and Mae were out of town. There would be no one around to help if they needed it. And who would pick EJ up after school?
Remorse blanketed his mind. He should have thought it through before letting EJ inspect the cruiser. He knew how Ginger felt, but at the time all he could think of was giving him a fun experience.
On the other hand, this separation was her idea. She was strong and capable. She’d lived her whole life without his help, and she’d managed just fine. The distance would do him good. He’d gotten far too involved in their lives. He had major issues of his own to work through. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that taking care of Ginger and EJ was his job.
* * *
“You ready?” Ty watched the side-view mirror of the truck for his father’s signal. When his dad dropped his hand, Ty let off the brake, easing the truck forward. The heavy-gauge chain they’d attached to the hitch bucked as it tightened. They’d spent the morning stabilizing the old shed on the Carters’ property by tying it off to the surrounding trees. They’d dismantled the roof and taken down the rafters. All that remained was to pull down the four walls. Strategically placed ropes would insure the frame fell toward the center of the slab.
Ty pressed firmly on the gas, one eye on his father’s image in the mirror directing him. The chain groaned. His dad took several steps backward. A loud crack rent the air, followed by a splintering sound as the four walls collapsed. Ty braked, turned off the engine, then hopped out, joining his dad at the pile of rubble. “That went well.”
His father chuckled, pulling his gloves from his back pocket. “Now the dirty work begins.”
Ty rubbed the side of his neck. “Yeah. Cleanup was never my thing.”
“No kidding. Most of your mother’s gray hair is from trying to get you to pick up your messes. Grab the chain saw. I’m ready to get this done.”
An hour later, Ty removed his gloves and moved to the ice chest in the bed of his dad’s pickup, pulling out a bottle of water. His gaze traveled back to the old shed, now a pile of rubble in the field beside the Carter house. The physical exertion had drained off much of his inner frustration and cleared his head.
His dad hoisted himself up onto the tailgate. “We should be able to finish this up in another hour or so. The truck is coming to haul off the Dumpster at three.”
“Good. Can we eat lunch first?”
“Might as well.”
Inside the cab, Ty took a bite of the turkey sandwich his mom had prepared for them. Sensing his father’s gaze, he glanced over at him. “What?”
His father studied him a moment. “Don’t you think it’s time to get things off your chest?”
“What are you talking about?”
His dad snorted softly. “You may be a grown man, son, but I’m still your father, and I know when you’re troubled.” He took a swig of his water. “It’s not easy coming back from a traumatic event. It changes you. Messes with your head and fills you with doubts.”
Ty didn’t want to have this conversation. His mother always gave him space and time to work through his issues in his own way. His dad wanted to push and prod, and get to the heart of the matter. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“I understand completely. I’ve been where you are, Ty, and it’s terrifying.”
Ty shook his head. “Dad, no one knows what I’m dealing with. How could you?”
His father’s eyes darkened, and his jaw set in a hard line. “I know because I had a close call with death, too. That auto accident I was in when you were a kid nearly shattered our family.”
Ty remembered it well. He just hadn’t made the connection to his own situation. Maybe his dad did understand. “How did you get through it?”
“First, I had to get past the silly fear.”
“What?”
“That senseless fear that blocks you from moving forward. It’s usually something that has no connection to your trauma. For me it was a fear of putting gas in my car.”
Ty huffed out a sour laugh. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does when you look closer. In my mind, if I didn’t put gas in the car, I couldn’t drive. If I couldn’t drive, then I couldn’t have another accident.”
Ty stared out the window. It was a twisted kind of logic, but in a way it did make sense.
“So, what’s your silly fear?”
He rubbed his fingers over the scar on his neck. Admitting his fear, even to his dad, wasn’t easy, but he wasn’t getting anywhere on his own. “I can’t pick up my firearm. Each time I try, I get the shakes. Brady gave me a pass to the firing range, but I can’t bring myself to go.” He raked his hand through his hair. “I can’t be a cop if I can’t handle a gun.”
“I don’t think your fear has anything to do with the gun. Think about it. If you don’t pick up your weapon, you can’t make any more mistakes. No one can get hurt.”
He wanted to believe his father had a valid point. But it couldn’t be that simple. “So, is that it? You just got over the fear?”
“Hardly. It also took a lot of prayer, support from your mom and determination.”
His dad reached over and patted his knee. “Look, sooner or later we all have to face our own mortality. Even Lazarus died eventually. Once I accepted that, things started to improve. I decided to lean on the Lord more, trust Him more.”
“But how? How do you let go?”
“It’s a choice. Choose to stay in the pit of fear and guilt, or choose to let go and move forward. You’ve chosen a risky profession, but it’s one I truly believe the Lord has called you to. But you’ve got to face the fear first, or you’ll be stuck in that hole forever.”
Ty mulled over his father’s advice the rest of the night, but kept coming back to the same sticking point. Telling someone to get over it might be good advice, but how did you choose to face a fear that had a boot heel on your throat?
His dad had mentioned determination. Maybe that was the key. If he was determined enough, then he might be able to push past the fear. The first chance he got, he’d go to the firing range and test out just how determined he really was to remain a cop.
At least it was a start.
Chapter Ten
No way was this carton going to get the best of her.
Ginger huffed out an exasperated breath, sending the strand of hair on her cheek lifting upward briefly. She’d picked up Elliot’s bike, and an employee had loaded it into the back of Ty’s SUV, but when she’d arrived at the cabin she’d realized getting it out of the car and up the steps to the deck was another matter. It wasn’t heavy, simply awkward. Three attempts at dragging it up the stairs had left her frustrated and admitting defeat. She needed help. Ty’s help. Which meant she’d have to swallow her pride, again, and call him.
EJ was spending the morning with Kenny. She’d wanted to get the bike put together and hidden before he came home, but she had to face the fact that even if she managed to get the box upstairs, she had no idea how to put the thing together. She’d been so anxious to save money by foregoing the setup fee, she’d failed to think things through.
Pulling out her phone, she selected Ty’s number, hesitating before placing the call. She missed him. Nothing was the same without him. She missed the sound of his laughter, the way he’d smile and wink when he was teasing her. She missed his strong male presence and the scent of earth and soap when he entered the room. She missed standing beside him preparing meals at the end of the day.
Maybe she’d been too hard on him about the police car. Once they left Dover and reached her mother’s, Elliot would probably find new things to excite him.
With a sigh, she pushed Ty’s number on her phone and waited.
“Hello?”
The sound of his voice on the other end sent a wave of comfort through her. “Hi.”
“Ginger? Is everything okay?”
She smiled. How typical of him to think of her first. “Yes. Fine. But I do need your help with something.”
“Name it.”
“I bought Elliot a bike. The one he’s been wanting.”
“That’s great. He’ll be pumped.”
She sighed. “Not unless he can actually ride it. I have to put it together, and I don’t have a clue where to start.” His amused laughter filled her ear, bringing a smile to her lips.
“I’ll be right over. Hey, where’s EJ?”
“He spent the night with your nephew. He and Kenny have big plans for today.”
“No doubt. I hope Kenny doesn’t spill the beans about the surprise party tomorrow.”
“Shelby assured me she had it handled.”
“Good. I’ll be home, uh, there, quick as I can.”
Ginger ended the call, holding the phone against her chest. Ty was coming home. Her heart raced with anticipation. She’d missed him. Had he missed them, too?
* * *
Ty parked the truck near the cabin and climbed out, his gaze landing on the large box leaning against the steps. He smiled. He could imagine Ginger wrestling it out of his SUV and trying to drag it up the stairs.
He grabbed the hand holes and carried the carton up to the deck, leaning it against the rail before moving to the front door. He tapped his knuckles lightly on the glass pane. The thought of seeing Ginger again sent his heart racing. The fact that she’d called him and asked for his help gave him hope that she was no longer angry.
The door opened, and he gazed into her green eyes. He wanted to believe what he saw reflected there. She was glad to see him. He cleared his throat. “Good morning. I’m here to assemble a bike.”