by Lois Richer
Chapter Eleven
“Mom, can I play basketball? The school is starting a team.”
Ginger filled the plate with a small helping of chicken and noodles, then set it before her son. “EJ, we’ll be leaving in a couple of weeks. You know that.”
“Aw.” He rested his head on his hand, poking at his food. Ginger filled her own plate, echoing a mental moan of her own. Her heart had started to grow roots in Dover, and to the man who’d taken over her every thought.
She glanced up as Ty walked in. Her cheeks warmed as her mind replayed yesterday’s kiss. He’d been quiet on the way home from his parents’ and had retreated to the boathouse when they’d arrived. Just as well. After that kiss, she had a lot to think about. He probably did, too. “Are you hungry?”
“I’ll pick something up on the way. Brady wants me to guard the Stantons’ house tonight. He’s shorthanded.”
Since the vandalism last Friday night, the Dover police had increased patrols, and the church had hired off-duty officers to stand guard; but the thought of Ty being out there terrified her. “Alone?”
He came and stood in front of her, a knowing grin on his handsome face. He reached out and touched her hair. “I’ll be fine. I doubt if they’ll come back. They know we’re watching the place. It’s just a precaution.”
“Be careful. I couldn’t stand it if...”
He hushed her, pulling her close against him. “Don’t think that way. I’ll be home before you know it.”
“I feel so helpless. I wish there was something I could do.”
“Keep digging up volunteers. That’s what we need the most.”
An idea formed in Ginger’s mind. “Ty, how many people has the Handy Works ministry helped?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Hundreds, I guess. Why?”
She wasn’t ready to share her idea. It was still percolating in her mind. “Nothing. I just wondered.”
“I’ve got to run.”
She watched him go, stopping to speak to EJ before he headed out the door. Her appetite gone, she entertained EJ by making brownies and watching a movie. But the minutes crawled by. Her thoughts were consumed with worry about all that could go wrong. What if it wasn’t just a few men, but a gang? What if they returned with guns, and Ty was unarmed? What if they snuck up on him and... She groaned. It was all too horrible to think about.
How did the spouses of policemen do it? She could never live with the constant worry, never knowing if he would come home again. John’s shooting had been random. Wrong place, wrong time. But Ty put his life on the line every day by choice. How could she open herself up to that kind of danger? How could she ask EJ to possibly lose another father?
Worn down from worry, she prepared for bed, then slipped under the covers, praying for Ty’s safety. She tried to think about how capable he was, how strong. He was a trained officer with years of experience. John had been a security guard only a few months and viewed it as a game. But, despite Ty’s skill and ability, he still had been shot.
She needed to stop this and focus on something positive. The vandalism had left a deep wound in her heart. There had to be some way to let people know of the need for volunteers, the importance of finishing the house. If only there was a way to reach all of the citizens of Dover at one time. A new idea bloomed. Maybe there was.
Her eyelids grew heavy, only to open again as she heard Ty’s truck pull in below nearby.
He was home. Safe.
She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Ty slowed his truck, waiting for the car ahead of him to make the turn into the Stantons’ driveway the next afternoon. He’d spent the morning going over the financial details with the anonymous donor’s attorney. There was enough money to replace all the materials and hire the labor, but that would drain the funds and leave the Stantons with crushing medical bills. Something he was unwilling to accept.
As he drove into the large yard, he bent his head to peer out of the windshield. The Stantons’ yard was a beehive of activity. Twice the normal number of vehicles were parked on the grounds. A delivery truck was off-loading a stack of drywall. Men were unloading boxes of tile and buckets of thin set from a van. Electrical and plumbing trucks were parked near the side of the house.
His sister met him as he got out of the truck. “Can you believe this?”
“What’s going on? Where did all these people come from?”
Laura looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Didn’t you hear her on the radio this morning?”
“I was at Mac Bridges’s office going over the finances. Hear who?”
“Ty, this is all because of Ginger. She is amazing. She went on WDVZ this morning and told everyone about the Stantons. She talked about how the church is rebuilding the Stantons’ home, and the anonymous donor, and about being vandalized. And then—” Laura poked him in the chest for emphasis “—she mentioned Handy Works and called upon anyone who’d been helped by the ministry to show their gratitude by lending a hand on the Stanton project.”
“Ginger did that?”
Laura smiled and nodded. “She also asked for donations, so that the Stantons could come home to a finished house and not be saddled with huge hospital bills.”
Ty tried to process what Laura was telling him. “So all these people are here to help?”
“Yes, and I’m getting calls from local businesses wanting to make donations. The siding is going to be completely replaced at no cost, including labor. The electrical and plumbing are already here and working for free.”
“How did she get on the radio? She never said a word about this.”
“I don’t know. But it’s an answer to a prayer.” Laura caught his gaze, her blue eyes narrowed and intense. “Tyler Wallace Durrant. She is one special woman, and if you don’t claim her, you’ll be making a huge mistake.”
His sister was right. His heart was so full of love and pride for Ginger’s ingenuity and hard work, he wanted to shout out loud. His gaze scanned the large number of volunteers. Thanks to Ginger, the house would be finished on time. None of this would have been possible without her caring heart. She’d found a way to make it all work, to overcome all the obstacles. If he hadn’t already lost his heart to her, he definitely would have after this.
Maybe it was time to give up law enforcement. Having a woman like Ginger at his side, sharing his life, would be a blessing. As soon as he had a free moment, he’d do a little research and see what his options were. But first, he had to show her how much she’d touched him.
* * *
Today would go down as one of her all-time favorites. Ginger gazed across her desk to the rainbow bouquet of roses sitting before her. Ty had sent her flowers. She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. She’d asked the deliveryman twice who they were for. The last time she’d received flowers she’d been twelve, and her father had presented her with a small bouquet after one of her piano recitals.
Lifting the small card from the plastic holder she read the words again. “‘To my Super Hero. You’re amazing. Ty.’” Like the other dozen times she’d read the card, her heart fluttered.
When she’d called to thank him, he’d told her it was his way of letting her know how much the radio interview had meant to him, and how proud he was of her. She couldn’t wait to see him tonight and thank him in person. Every gesture he made, every kind thought, just made it harder for her to leave Dover. But the time was coming.
Her gaze landed on the roses again, and she shoved the future aside. She wasn’t going to spoil this moment with thoughts of tomorrow. Ty had sent her flowers, and that’s all she wanted to think about now.
* * *
The rain had started midafternoon, so Ty had left the site a little early. With all the extra help, he’d felt confident leaving t
he volunteers in Shaw’s capable hands. He’d retrieved his laptop from the boathouse and made a dash through the rain to the cabin. The moment he stepped over the threshold, a sense of home enveloped him. The feeling went far beyond owning the property. The cabin held a welcoming comfort now, something that had been missing until Ginger and EJ had entered his life.
Which was why he was willing to think about a different direction for his life. He’d be a fool if he didn’t at least consider a new future. One that included her and EJ.
Opening his laptop, he turned his attention to the screen. A few taps on the keyboard pulled up information on jobs for people with a law enforcement background. Maybe security work was the answer; keep the badge and the weapon, but lose the dangerous side of police work.
The list of openings showed promise, with salaries triple what he made now. With a sigh, he leaned back in the kitchen stool, absently rubbing the side of his neck. He felt certain he could land a position quickly. He had the credentials and the experience. But the motivation was lacking.
What about law school? He surfed online until a list of local colleges appeared. A small knot formed in his chest at the thought of going back to school, buried in law books. Neither option sparked a fire in his belly. The only fire in him right now was the lingering memory of Ginger in his arms, holding her close, and kissing her.
If he left the police, he might have a future with Ginger and EJ. But what kind of husband and father would he be if he gave up his calling? Would his dissatisfaction eat away at the relationship? She deserved all of him, not a watered-down version.
He shut the laptop and stood. Closing his eyes, he offered up another heartfelt prayer. Lord, I need answers. I need direction. You’re my strong tower. I need Your strength to fight the fear and doubt. Show me what I need to do to overcome my confusion.
* * *
Ginger’s hopes of spending time with Ty that evening were pushed aside. Her success at recruiting volunteers and donations had resulted in him spending more hours at the job site in order to get the house done on time. He’d left the moment she’d arrived home, but not before taking a moment to caress her cheek lovingly and dazzle her with one of his smiles.
After putting EJ to bed, Ginger headed to the living room, looking for something to occupy her mind. She spied Ty’s laptop on the coffee table.
Opening it, the screen displayed the website of a local law school. Was Ty considering getting a degree? Did this mean he had decided to leave the police force? Her heartbeat quickened. No more danger. No more worry. She knew they had feelings for one another. The kiss proved that. She could so easily see a future for them. EJ adored him. But not as long as he was a cop. But as a lawyer...
She closed the computer, trying not to read too much into what she’d found. She wanted to talk to him about his decision, encourage him to leave the force. But he had to make his own decision. She needed to give him space and time to decide. Still, she couldn’t stop the bubble of hope that floated to the surface of her mind.
* * *
Ty stared at the bobber as it floated on the water. He had no concern for the fish that might snag his line; his thoughts were focused on the boy beside him, sitting hunched over his new fishing pole, his forehead creased in a deep frown. EJ had been unusually quiet since Ty had picked him up from school.
The weather had turned warm and sunny today, and after completing his homework, EJ had asked to go fishing. They’d been sitting on the pier for a while now.
“Tyster, did you get shot?”
The question pierced right to his heart. He inhaled slowly, gauging his response. “Who told you about that?”
“Kenny. He said you were in the hospital a long time.”
Ty looked at the bobber again, wishing he could float on the top of this issue and not get pulled under the surface. “Yes, I did.” He waited for another question, but the boy fell silent again.
“My dad got shot. He couldn’t walk anymore.”
A lump formed in Ty’s throat. Poor kid. “Yeah. Your mom told me.” EJ turned and looked up at him, brown eyes moist with unshed tears. His bottom lip quivered.
“It was my fault.”
“No, EJ. It wasn’t your fault. It was the bad guy’s fault.”
EJ shook his head, one small hand still holding tightly to the pole like a lifeline. “I made him go back inside to get me a better toy. I already had the one in the box.”
Ty searched for a way to handle this conversation. EJ should be talking to his mother, but he’d chosen to share it with him. “EJ, sometimes bad things happen to people, and when it does, we need a reason to help us understand. Sometimes we blame ourselves.”
“But my dad said he would be okay if we’d never gone to that place.”
Laying aside his pole, Ty wrapped an arm around EJ’s slender shoulders and pulled him close. “Your dad was probably scared about not being able to walk again, and it made him angry. He worried about how he would take care of you and your mom.”
“But what if it was my fault?”
“It wasn’t. Believe me. Have you talked to your mom about this?”
He shook his head. “She might not love me anymore.”
“Oh, EJ. Your mom will always love you. Nothing you could ever do or say will change that.”
“But what if it was?”
Ty exhaled a long sigh. “I know how it feels to think that. When I got shot, my partner got shot, too. He died. I feel like it was my fault because I didn’t react fast enough.”
“Was it your fault?”
The question hit its mark. He thought about Julie, Pete’s wife. She’d told him repeatedly it wasn’t his fault, that she didn’t blame him. “I don’t know, buddy. I’m still trying to sort that out.”
“Mrs. Graves in Sunday school told us when we have problems we’re supposed to give them to Jesus because He’s stronger than we are.”
“That’s true.”
EJ’s big brown eyes were filled with sadness as he looked up at him. “I don’t know how to do that.”
Ty cradled the boy’s head against his shoulder. “I don’t either, EJ.”
“Maybe we should pray. Isn’t that the only way to talk to Jesus?”
Oh, the simple faith of a child. “That’s a good idea.” Ty gently took the boy’s free hand in his. “How about this? We each put our guilty feelings in our hand. Then we’ll pray and give them to God. When we’re done, we’ll open up our hands and let those old feelings drift right up to Jesus so He can take care of them for us.” EJ nodded, and opened his hand, palm up. “Okay, you ready? We’ll each pray quietly, and when you’re done, close your hand, okay?”
Ty watched, his heart aching as the boy bowed his head. Ty closed his eyes, searching for the strength to do what he’d just instructed EJ to do—release his fear and guilt into the Almighty’s care. Was it really as simple as he’d told the boy? Slowly, Ty opened his heart and soul, seeking the freedom from guilt only God could provide. When he opened his eyes, EJ’s little fist was clenched tightly. Ty realized his own fingers had curled inward. “Okay, EJ. Let’s open our hands and let those feelings go.”
Together they unfurled their fingers. Ty had come up with the symbolic ritual for the boy’s sake, but as he opened his palm and raised it, a sense of lightness washed through him. He glanced down at EJ to find the boy’s face free from worry, a small smile on his lips.
He hugged him close. “Feel better now?” EJ nodded firmly. “Good. But you have to promise that you’ll still talk to your mom about this. It’s important she knows how you feel.”
They were walking back toward the cabin when Ginger appeared around the corner.
“How does the new pole work? Did you catch anything?” Her cheery smile faded quickly as she looked at them.
EJ glanced up at Ty. He s
miled down at the boy and urged him forward. “Do you want me to get you started?” EJ nodded. “Ginger, Elliot needs to talk to you about some things. I’ll be in the boathouse.”
EJ walked toward his mother, then stopped and turned around. “You could talk to her, too, Tyster. She’s a good listener.”
Caught off guard, Ty had to swallow the lump in his throat before responding, “That’s a good idea, buddy. Thanks.” Unable to meet Ginger’s curious gaze, he walked away.
* * *
Ginger rested her elbows on the kitchen counter, her chin in her hands. How could she have been so blind? Elliot’s confession about his feelings of guilt had ripped her heart to shreds. It had never occurred to her that he would blame himself for her husband’s shooting. She ached at the thought of the heavy burden he must have carried for the past few years. If it hadn’t been for Ty, she might never have known.
Inhaling a shaky breath, she straightened, clasping her hands tightly in front of her. She and Elliot had talked a long time before she’d sent him to bed. Maybe this was the reason God had brought them to Dover—to clean the slate, remove the rubble from the past few years and level the ground so they could start over, free of the past. She sent up a prayer of thanks and gratitude for landing in Dover, and for putting Ty Durrant in their path.
But how would she ever repay him for all he’d done for them? His friendship, his support, but mostly for taking EJ under his wing. She needed to thank him for helping her son. Pulling her aqua sweater from the hook, she slipped it on and headed for the boathouse.
“It’s open.”
Ginger stepped into the dim interior, her gaze finding Ty. He sat at the small dining table, forearms resting on the top, his shoulders hunched forward. He looked over at her, one corner of his mouth curving upward. “I thought you might be dropping by. How’s EJ? Did he talk to you?”