Courting Disaster

by Boeshaar, Andrea

  Incensed, Frank silently summed up the situation. So the guy took off running and left Cadi inside—what a jerk.

  “Is he okay? Ross? Is he hurt?”

  His anger toward the man pulled Frank’s nerves taut. “Don’t fret over him. He’s not worth the energy, Cadi. Trust me.”

  “I fret about everybody. I’ve made helping others my—my whole life.”

  “Relax, Cadi. You don’t owe me any explanations.”

  She quieted.

  “That’s better.”

  “Why aren’t you telling me about—about Ross? Was he killed? I want the truth.”

  “He’s alive.” Frank directed his flashlight off into the distance. He saw that Marty had helped the guy to his feet. They were slowly making their way up the hill. “In fact, my guess is your boyfriend will make a full recovery.”

  Frank wanted to add that the guy had left her for dead—that he’d lied about which one of them was driving when the crash occurred. But he refused to upset Cadi further. He was outraged, however, that she cared about someone so obviously self-absorbed. Was this her boyfriend? The one she broke up with? Or was this someone new? Either way, it was obvious to Frank that she sure knew how to pick the losers.

  Then, suddenly, his rationale did a 180-degree turn. He felt like King David when the prophet Nathan proclaimed, “You are the man.”

  Contrition enveloped him. If any mutual attraction had existed last weekend, it made Frank little better than any other “loser” in Cadi’s life. What’s more, his brutish behavior clinched the title for him.

  Loser.

  The paramedic squad and fire truck finally arrived, and the red and blue lights illuminated the starlit night.

  “Cadi, everything’s going to be all right. I promise you.”

  She caught his wrist and murmured something, but with all the approaching noise, Frank couldn’t make it out.

  “Say it again; I didn’t hear you.” He knelt closer.

  “Ross is not my—my boyfriend,” she said with a labored breath.

  “Glad to hear it.” In more ways than one, Frank added to himself.

  “Will you help me stand?” She began to struggle.

  “Good grief, Cadi. Don’t move any more. You might be doing more damage to yourself.”

  “But I can’t breathe.”

  “Relax.” He shrugged out of his lightweight jacket and carefully placed it behind her head and over his knee, propping her even higher. “Is that better?”

  “A little.”

  He brushed the stained and matted hair off her face. “Just relax,” he repeated.

  In the distance, the emergency personnel gathered their gear and headed toward them.

  “Frank?” Cadi’s weakening voice reached his ears. The way she said his name did something crazy to his insides.

  “What is it?” In that moment, he thought he’d do just about anything to help her.

  “I—I hate to tell you this, but—”

  “Tell me what?”

  “I—I. . .”

  Frank wondered if a confession of some sort was on the way. “What is it, Cadi?”

  “I—I think I’m going to be sick!”

  Eleven

  The hospital room’s stark ceiling blurred before it came into focus again. Cadi blinked and fought the effects of the pain medication she’d been given. Over the course of the last several hours, she’d had every X-ray imaginable, and the worst of her injuries seemed to be a broken nose and a fractured rib as well as multiple bumps and bruises.

  She touched the swollen and throbbing center of her face. The specialist on call had finished packing and setting her broken nose; then he’d spoken about the possibility of plastic surgery.

  The entire situation seemed so surreal. Had Frank really been the responding officer, or had she dreamed up their verbal exchange? She had almost convinced herself that the latter was true. After all, Frank Parker thought she was a swindler and said he’d gladly see her behind bars. But it was a totally different man—a sort of hero—who had knelt over her and tried to help her tonight.

  Cadi’s eyelids grew heavy and fluttered shut. She allowed the fantasy of her knight in shining armor to play out in her head. She knew the morphine had a lot to do with her delusional state, but she was too exhausted to fight it.

  Minutes later, she heard the glass exam room doors slide open then close again. She sensed a presence and opened her eyes. The dream vanished, and she watched in chagrined awe as the very object of her thoughts neared her hospital bed. She blinked, wondering if she’d somehow conjured him up.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

  “Sure, I—I guess not.” She struggled to sit up but found it hurt too much. She then maneuvered the head of the bed to more of an upright position. Frank quickened his strides and assisted her.

  “I would have come in to talk to you sooner,” he said, “but I, um, had to shower and change my uniform.”

  “Oh?” Cadi didn’t understand his meaning at first and decided that in his spotless beige shirt and green trousers, he looked like a real-life version of the fabled rugged, tall-dark-and-handsome hero.

  And that’s when she realized the unfortunate reason for his just-pressed appearance.

  She closed her eyes and winced. “Oh, I’m so sorry—”

  “You couldn’t help it.”

  She peeked at him and found him leaning his muscular forearms on the side rail. His presence seemed too close for comfort.

  He smiled and shook his head. “Girl, you look like you were in a boxing match and lost.”

  “Thanks a lot.” Cadi almost laughed, but the pain shooting through her body stopped her cold. “No jokes.” She wrapped her arms around her midsection.

  “Fair enough.”

  Cadi marveled at how disarming Frank was when he smiled. But soon the amusement disappeared from his face.

  He glanced at his clasped hands, and she thought his fingers looked strong and capable. “Cadi,” he said gravely, “I have my assumptions, but I need to hear it from you. Were you driving that pickup tonight?”

  He looked back up at her, and his dark gaze bore right into her.

  “No, I wasn’t driving.” She wished she didn’t feel so vulner-able. She hiked up the white sheet covering her gown-clad body and tucked it under her arms. “Ross was driving.”

  “He swears up and down that it was you.”

  Cadi swallowed hard and willed away the tears of indig-nation forming behind her eyes. “Well, you already think I steal and cheat disaster victims, so I’m sure you think I’m a liar now, too.”

  “Slow down.” He placed his hand over her forearm. “I’m not thinking the worst of you, all right?”

  When he paused, Cadi glanced his way.

  “The fact is, I thought about calling you and apologizing for my boorish actions last weekend, but I sort of lost my nerve.”

  Cadi arched one bruised brow. “You? Lost your nerve?”

  She watched him wrestle with a grin. “Believe it or not, us macho guys have fragile egos.”

  Cadi laughed and groaned in agony at the same time. “Frank, that was so not nice!”

  “I wasn’t trying to be funny.” He smiled in spite of himself.

  She caught her breath then gave him a withering glance.

  “Seriously,” he said, his tone resonating with sincerity, “I’m sorry I acted like—to use Adam’s words—‘a big galoot.’ ”

  So Pastor Dremond spoke to him just as he promised.

  “I hope you can forgive me.”

  “I can—and I do.” It certainly wasn’t difficult while he was being so charming.

  “Good.”

>   She stared at him, trying to figure out this man. She recalled Pastor Dremond saying Frank wrestled with something from his past. Was it more than his wife’s death?

  “I’d rather have you as a friend than a foe,” she murmured.

  “Ditto.”

  The light in his eyes made her heart melt.

  “But, for now, let’s get back to business. For the record, I’m going to ask you again: Were you driving?”

  “No.”

  “Were you drinking tonight?”

  Cadi gasped then winced at the lightning bolting through her ribcage. “I don’t drink,” she managed through gritted teeth.

  “Did you know Ross was intoxicated when you got into the truck with him tonight?”

  Cadi gaped at the question. “He was intoxicated?”

  “I’ll take that as a no.” Frank straightened. “How do you know this guy?”

  “I don’t really know him. I mean, I know who he is because we went to high school together. I was at a birthday party and needed a ride home. Ross offered, and I accepted.”

  “Cadi, he was drunk.” Frank leaned in again.

  “I had no clue. There was no alcohol served at the party. The Barclays are Christians who don’t believe in celebrating with liquor, so it never occurred to me that Ross—”

  “Okay, I get the picture.” Frank stood to his full height. “How’d you get to the party?”

  She hedged, not wanting Frank to know the many wrong choices she’d made in the past seven days. But then again, if her answer was too vague, he might find grounds to mistrust her again.

  She decided to shoot straight from the hip. “Darrell picked me up.”

  “Darrell. . .”

  She could see his mental gears turning.

  “Is that the guy you broke up with?”

  “Yes.” She gazed up at the ceiling tiles again and chastised herself for not heeding Meg’s warnings about Darrell. “I thought we could reconcile, but things will never work between us. If that fact wasn’t obvious to me before, it certainly was tonight.”

  “Hmm, and how did you come to that conclusion?”

  “His roving eyes.”

  “Ah. That’ll do it.”

  “And when Darrell became engrossed in the company of another woman—whose long blond hair is not that impressive, if you ask me—I decided to find my own way home.” She looked at Frank. “You know the rest of the story.”

  She watched her explanation play across his shadowy features. He seemed to ponder the logic, or lack thereof. “Are you finally through with this guy now, or what?”

  She couldn’t help a grin. “Is this on or off the record?”

  Frank had the good grace to look embarrassed for asking. “Off.”

  “We’re really through.”

  “Good.” Frank gave her a nod of approval.

  “Good?” Cadi felt a tad bewildered by his emphatic reply.

  “Well, look. . .” He cleared his throat. “I’ll give Marty, the officer in charge, all the information. It’s customary for us to do an investigation, particularly since Ross was intoxicated when he got behind the wheel. But I think you should know that I’m requesting to be taken off this case after tonight.”

  “Why?” She stared into his face, almost losing herself in the depths of his velvety brown eyes. “Am I in trouble?”

  He stared back at her. “No, but. . .” He paused. “I think maybe I am.”

  “Oh?” She hadn’t filed any complaints.

  She watched in puzzlement as a grin spread across his face.

  “I feel like I’m too close to this case, personally, to be objective.”

  The explanation made sense.

  “I need to get going.” After a parting smile, he strode toward the door then stopped. “Oh, and your aunt is anxious to see you. I apologize for keeping her waiting, but I needed to speak with you first. All the evidence backs up your story and. . . Cadi?”

  “Yes?”

  “Just to warn you, Ross Hinshaw is going to jail. His recklessness could have killed him, you, and countless others on the road tonight.”

  “You’re right.” The realization that so many lives could have been lost gave Cadi a jolt, and in that moment, she gleaned a sliver of insight into Frank’s world. Obviously he often dealt with the worst side of humanity. Little wonder that he’d developed such a granitelike demeanor.

  Except she’d glimpsed his softer side, too—like when his children were around and in the way he’d tried to help her tonight.

  “Thanks, Frank. Thanks for everything.”

  He replied with a smile and an amiable wink then left the room.

  ❧

  Except for sending her flowers and talking to her on the phone a couple of times, Frank refrained from contacting Cadi. Instead, he allowed the first few weeks of June to pass before entertaining thoughts of a bona fide courtship. He figured she needed time to get over her failed romance and recover from her injuries before he approached her and asked her out.

  Still, he kept himself abreast of the goings-on in her life by logging on to the Disaster Busters Web site almost daily. He read Cadi’s blog, and it gave him a clearer view of her character. In a word, she impressed him. He read her account of the car crash and her recent campaign against drunk drivers. He silently applauded her for taking action, and each time he saw Cadi’s photograph on the site—and her blue eyes and smiling face—the notion of dating her made his mouth go dry.

  Did he have time to cultivate a relationship? Could he make time? What would the kids think? What would his parents and in-laws think? Would they approve of Cadi? He hated the thought of what might happen if they didn’t. Losing Yolanda had been devastating enough, and Frank didn’t think that he or any of his family members had the energy for more drama.

  So, did he dare set off on this romantic pursuit? He had a hunch Cadi wouldn’t be opposed to it. But what if things wouldn’t work out? She was a career woman and a crusader. He was a workaholic with two kids.

  Maybe he shouldn’t bother.

  Frank expelled an audible sigh. He stood from the kitchen table where he’d been sitting, contemplating. He stretched and glanced out the patio doors and into the backyard where Dustin and Emmie played with their friends. Convinced all was well outside, he moseyed over to the sink and washed the supper dishes while rehashing the situation over in his mind.

  Before long, his children’s friends had gone home, the kitchen was clean, and dusk had settled. Frank called the kids into the house, and once they were washed up and in their pajamas, they settled on the couch to watch their favorite TV shows. Frank sat between them, one arm around each child. He relished quality time like this, so when a nature program came on one of the cable channels, he allowed the two to stay up late and enjoy it.

  Then it was time for the local news.

  “Okay, time for bed.” Frank stood and stretched.

  The kids moaned in unison.

  “No arguments.” He was just about to recite his infamous obedience lecture when Dustin’s exclamation filled the room.

  “Dad, look!” He pointed to the television. “It’s her!”

  Frank followed his son’s gaze then stared in disbelief. There on his twenty-seven-inch color screen was the woman who’d occupied his thoughts for the better part of a month.

  “Dad, it’s Cadi.”

  “So I see.” He was amazed Dustin remembered her name. “Quiet down so I can hear what’s going on.”

  But it was too late. The interview with her had ended.

  “And there you have it,” the female reporter said. “Flooding and a tornado have devastated much of Cass County. But as you just heard, it’s volunteers like these from Disaster Busters who can really make a difference in victims’ liv
es, helping them literally find shelter in the time of storm.”

  “Dad, a tornado!”

  “I heard, son, but the twister touched down days ago.” Frank had been well aware of the flooding in that part of the state, too. “No more bad storms are in the forecast. I suspect Cadi’s just helping with the cleanup.”

  “I hope she doesn’t get hurt.”

  Frank glimpsed his son’s fretful expression. He smiled. “She looks none the worse for wear to me—and that’s after her car accident.”

  “Cadi was in a car accident?” A worried little frown creased Emmie’s forehead.

  “Yes, but she’s all right. You just saw it for yourself.” He clapped his hands together. “Okay. Enough TV. It’s bedtime.”

  Frank headed for the stairs, leading the kids up toward their bedrooms. Emmie slipped in beside him and took his hand.

  “Daddy, I’m scared.”

  He looked at his daughter. “Of what?”

  “Of bad things like on TV.”

  “You’re perfectly safe.” He wanted to promise to protect her always, but hadn’t he made that same vow to Yolanda and failed to keep it?

  “Just trust in the Lord,” Dustin spouted.

  The reply seemed almost effortless and served as a rebuke to Frank.

  “ ‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding,’ Proverbs 3:5,” Dustin recited proudly.

  “That’s Bible truth,” Frank said. “Do you feel better now, Emmie?”

  She bobbed her head. “Daddy, do you still like Cadi?”

  “Sure.” He hoped he sounded nonchalant. “But how do you know I even liked her in the first place?”

  “I don’t know,” came the impish, singsong reply.

  “It’s ’cuz you get a funny look on your face sometimes,” Dustin amended. “And once you left the computer on and I saw her picture.”

  Frank winced. He usually took precautions to safeguard his kids from the Internet. “I’ll be more careful in the future.”

  They reached the top of the steps.

  “Is she still mad at you like that day after church?”