Courting Disaster

by Boeshaar, Andrea

  But now he felt like an imbecile. He should have kept his mouth shut. He’d shown Cadi his weakest, most vulnerable side this weekend, a part of himself he hadn’t revealed to anyone since Yolanda’s death.

  Not even to God.

  Frank reached the townhouse he rented from his in-laws and parked his SUV. He got out then woke up his children and helped them from the vehicle. Once they were in the house, he helped the two wash up and get ready for bed. After tucking the kids in, he gathered their dirty clothes and carried them to the basement laundry room. He threw a load in the washer then trudged back upstairs. Returning to the living room, he heard a knock on the back door and answered it. His mother-in-law stood there wearing a fuzzy blue bathrobe.

  “Can I come in? I’d like to talk with you.”

  “Sure.” Frank let her in and closed the door.

  “Kids in bed?”

  “Yep.”

  “They were up awfully late tonight.”

  He knew Lois didn’t mean anything by the remark, but it irritated him just the same. Stepping away from the door, he walked farther into the kitchen and leaned against the kitchen table.

  “Is that why you came over? To reprimand me?”

  “Of course not. I was just. . .well, concerned when I didn’t hear from you or see the kids this morning.” She paused and regarded him askance.

  “We visited Cadi’s church. I should have told you so you wouldn’t have expected the kids. I apologize.”

  “You took Dustin and Emmie to another church this morning?” The dismay in her voice was evident. “What’s that supposed to mean? Our church isn’t good enough for you anymore?”

  Frank shook his head. “Not the case.”

  “Let me remind you that it’s the very church Yolanda grew up in. Dad and I still attend there. Your parents attend there, too, now. Our friends and—”

  “And that’s the problem,” Frank cut in, fighting to keep the impatience out of his tone. “Whenever I step inside that church, I feel suffocated by the past and by everyone who loved Yolanda.”

  “When did you reach that conclusion? After you met Cadi?”

  “Yes, although it’s been coming for a while.” Frank stared, unseeing, at the oak cupboards. “Adam Dremond brought up the subject months ago.”

  Lois folded her bony arms. “Have you been dating Cadi since she and her colleagues came to town to help with that gas explosion?”

  “No, but that’s when we met. We just started seeing each other.” It galled him to give an account to his deceased wife’s mother. On the other hand, he depended on Lois for so many things involving the kids and his home. To that degree he figured he owed her an explanation.

  “I suppose if you marry this woman Dad and I will never see the children again.”

  “What?” Frank swung his gaze at her. Her remark seemed irrational. “What are you talking about? Marriage? I just started dating Cadi.”

  “Well, I suppose it’s bound to happen sooner or later—your getting remarried, that is.”

  “Lois, if I should remarry, I promise never to stand in the way of your relationship with Dustin and Emmie. They love you very much. You’re an important person in their lives.” He shifted his stance. “Look, it’s too soon for me to be confident in where my relationship with Cadi is going, but I do know I have to start living again. I think she’s pretty, I admire her tenacity, and I enjoy the way she makes me feel when we’re together.”

  “Hmm, sounds serious.” Lois tipped her head. “I wonder what Yolanda would think.”

  “Landi would want me to be happy.”

  “What about Paige Dunner? I thought you liked her. She’s pretty, too, and Yolanda thought the world of her.” A faraway gleam entered Lois’s hazel eyes. “She always said Paige would make an excellent wife and mother.”

  “I’m sure she will, but I’m not the guy who’d make her an excellent husband.”

  “What about Nicole Russell? She goes to our church. She’s single. She and Yolanda went to high school together.”

  “I know who you’re referring to, but there’s no. . .no chemistry there with either of those women.”

  “Yes, well, I already saw a bit of that, um, chemistry you feel for Cadi.”

  “I kissed her. Big deal.” Frank grew increasingly uncom-fortable. His so-called “love life” was none of Lois’s business, and he preferred to keep it that way. “Listen, it’s late, and I need to get some shut-eye.”

  He walked around Lois and left the room. No more than a minute later, he heard her leave through the back door.

  Sixteen

  Rain pelted the window of the Disaster Busters office then dribbled down the pane like so many teardrops.

  Cadi released a blasé sigh and stared out over the almost empty parking lot. Puddles formed on the black asphalt. It had been gloomy and rainy for a good part of a week, and Cadi was beginning to feel a bit dreary herself. Her mood, she acknowledged, was not only due to the weather but the fact that she hadn’t heard from Frank in over a week.

  On the Fourth of July he’d called to say the picnic had been rained out, and he hadn’t called again. Then, two days ago, she phoned him to ask if the kids wanted to attend children’s church. Frank said he had to work and Dustin and Emily were spending the day with their grandparents. He ended their conversation soon after that, leaving Cadi no choice but to wonder if she’d offended him somehow. Either that or Frank was put off by what he had termed his “competition.”

  Cadi had meant to explain about both her run-in with Darrell as well as their nonexistent relationship on the day Frank and his kids came to the house for noon dinner, but she never got the opportunity. Even so, Sergeant Frank Parker didn’t strike her as a guy who would be deterred that easily. It had to be something else.

  Lord, You know his heart. You know all things. I don’t have peace about calling Frank again. Is it best that he and I don’t contact each other? Is this Your will? I’m hurt and disappointed, but I know that Your will and not mine is and always will be best.

  She squared her shoulders, leaving the matter in the hands of her heavenly Father, and moved away from the window. She glanced at the clock on the walnut credenza. Four thirty. She was tired and listless, and with the dismal skies outside, it felt like the time should be much later.

  Her gaze shifted to the accumulating paperwork in need of filing, and Cadi decided to make a pot of coffee to infuse some artificial enthusiasm into her system. A short while later, with a mug of rich-smelling brew beside her on the scarred desktop, she began sorting the documents she’d allowed to pile up.

  About an hour later, she was just finishing up when a knock sounded. Her office door stood ajar, and glancing in that direction, she saw Darrell standing in the threshold.

  He walked in without waiting for her reply. “Some of us are going to the steak house for dinner. We decided to meet here. Want to come?”

  “No, thanks.” She was puzzled by the invitation.

  “I can see you weren’t expecting me.”

  “To say the least.” Cadi closed the filing cabinet drawer and walked around the desk. Sitting on its corner, she folded her arms and regarded him askance. “What are you doing here?”

  “Well. . .” He stepped toward her. “I decided I’m ready to hear whatever it is you have to say.”

  Oh, don’t tempt me. She fought against the mounting cynicism.

  “I’m ready to accept your apology.” He stuffed his hands into the side pockets of his crisp navy slacks. “I wasn’t ready before. Now I am.”

  “I’m so flattered, Your Highness.” She bowed.

  “Oh, quit the theatrics. I’m serious.”

  Cadi smiled at his retort.

  “Did you ever think of how embarrassed I was the night of that party when you left with
Ross Hinshaw of all people? You chose him over me?”

  Her amusement vanished. “No, I guess I didn’t consider your feelings—because you were rather preoccupied with a certain woman with long blond hair.”

  Darrell rolled his eyes. “So you left with Hinshaw because you were jealous?” He nodded. “I suppose that makes more sense.”

  “I left with Ross because I was hurt,” she corrected. “All I wanted to do was go home, and he offered me a ride. It was a bad choice on my part, even though I had no idea Ross was drunk.”

  “Hmm.” Darrell strode to the desk and sat on its edge next to Cadi. She refused to encourage him and walked to the door.

  “I admit my actions that night bordered on irrational,” she said, “and I’m sorry for any embarrassment I caused you.” There. She’d apologized.

  “Apology accepted.” He flashed a practiced grin, and Cadi wondered how she’d ever found him charming. “Now, how about dinner at the steak house?”

  “I’m not hungry. Thanks.” She set her hand on the door-knob, hoping Darrell would take the hint.

  “Our friends say we look good together, Cadi.”

  “Our friends?” She couldn’t imagine to whom he referred. “I don’t believe we share the same friends.”

  He chuckled at the remark. “We’re all brothers and sisters in Christ. Your friends are my friends and vice versa. It’s just that my friends are climbing the social ladder and gaining respect—earning money.”

  Cadi thought about her closest friends—Meg, Will, Jeff, and Bailey. They climbed a different “ladder of success”—one of service to God and helping other human beings in their time of need. Of course, Christians in positions as bankers, lawyers, and corporate executives were needed, also, but Cadi couldn’t imagine fitting into that social circle. She saw that fact clearly now.

  “It’s true that you’ve disappointed me on several occasions,” Darrell said, “but I’m willing to give our relationship another chance. I’ve discussed the matter with several godly individuals here at church, and each of them persuaded me to cultivate, not terminate, our relationship.”

  She gaped at him, noting the one-sidedness of his logic. God, help me here. Give me patience with this man.

  “What do you say, Cadi?”

  She shook her head. “Darrell, seriously, our relationship was terminated months ago. I just didn’t realize it then. But I do now.”

  He appeared taken aback. “Months ago?”

  She softened. “We’re all wrong for each other. Let’s face it: You want and need someone different than who I am. You want a woman who is polished, sophisticated.” She stopped herself before adding “arm ornament” to the list.

  Darrell stuck out his lower lip and sort of shrugged in silent agreement. “You polish up rather nicely.”

  He meant it as a compliment, and to a certain extent she was flattered. But Cadi would never forget his wandering eyes at the party and the fact that he hadn’t felt concerned enough about her even to make one quick phone call to check on her recovery after the accident. What’s more, he considered Disaster Busters a waste of time and nothing more. And then there was his walk with the Lord to consider. In Cadi’s opinion, it appeared perfect, almost superficial, although she didn’t doubt that Darrell was a Christian.

  “You have possibilities, Cadi.”

  “So do you.” She smiled. “But we’re not right for each other.” She glanced down at her attire. “I wear a sweatshirt and blue jeans to work.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I’m an EMT, and you can’t stand the sight of blood.”

  “A lot of couples have vastly different likes and dislikes—”

  “Darrell, I’m in love with somebody else.”

  Cadi couldn’t believe the statement had flown out of her mouth with so little effort.

  Darrell, however, didn’t appear too surprised. “The guy with the two kids? He was in church a couple of Sundays ago?”

  “Yes.” She was still reeling from her admission. Had she really said “love”? When did that happen? How could it have happened? Frank confused her most of the time. Love him? Impossible.

  Then she recalled how she felt in his arms, all weak-kneed and her heart singing like a bird in the springtime. He shared a side of himself that made her feel special and needed. His children were well-adjusted despite losing their mother so tragically. They looked up to Frank, respected and adored him, and that alone told Cadi a lot about the man, even though when they talked that Sunday afternoon, he’d admitted to wrestling with his relationship with God.

  Nevertheless, the fanciful workings of her heart dared to hope in love and a happily-ever-after with Frank.

  “Must be divorced, huh?”

  “Widowed.” She blinked and gathered her wits. “Darrell, I think you need to leave. I–I’ve got some errands to run.”

  “What does he do for a living? Does he make more money than I do? I hope you’re considering these important questions.”

  She ignored him and crossed the room. She saw no point in discussing Frank any further—especially with Darrell. Opening the bottom drawer of her wooden desk, she lifted out her purse.

  “I should get going, and you don’t want to miss your friends. The steak house gets really crowded.”

  Darrell glanced at his pricey gold wristwatch. “Yes, I suppose.”

  He sauntered to the door in a way that exuded self-confidence. She followed him out, turning off the lights before closing up the office behind her.

  “Well, have fun tonight.” She forced a polite inflection into her voice.

  When Darrell didn’t reply, she paused and regarded him with a curious frown. He just stood there, statue still and staring over her shoulder. What had seized his attention?

  Oh, well, none of her concern.

  She whirled around and took a forward stride, instantly colliding with none other than the elusive deputy himself, Frank Parker.

  ❧

  Frank had dropped in to see Cadi on a whim. Purely a whim. He’d had business at the courthouse, and the idea of her being a mere couple of miles away nearly drove him to distraction.

  For the last nine days, she’d occupied his thoughts almost every hour, and when she didn’t, Dustin or Emily served as a reminder each time one of them mentioned her name.

  Very simply, he wanted to see her again. He had to see her again.

  But when he entered the church and neared the Disaster Busters office, after asking directions, he was brought up short by what he first believed to be some sort of lovers’ quarrel. He recognized Cadi’s voice and felt pinned to the tile floor, unable to breathe, let alone move.

  Then he heard what he could only describe as an answer to his deep-down, most personal prayers.

  A sign. He had longed for a sign. Move forward or turn tail and run?

  He now felt confident in taking the next few steps ahead.

  And, as Cadi stood just inches away, having fallen right into his arms, he watched her face turn from pink to a very pretty crimson. Her eyes, on the other hand, held that proverbial deer-caught-in-the-headlights stare.

  “You okay?” Frank steadied then released her. “I hope you didn’t reinjure those ribs when we crashed just now.”

  “I–I’m fine,” she stammered.

  She looked flustered, and Frank resisted the urge to chuckle. Instead, he held out his right hand to Darrell and introduced himself. Under the circumstances, he had no qualms about being cordial to the guy.

  The other man replied in a brisk but polite manner and quickly excused himself, saying he had a dinner engagement.

  Frank stifled a guffaw and peered at Cadi.

  “This isn’t what you think,” she said in a whispered tone. “Darrell stopped by to—well, you see, I did sort of
owe him an apology, and—”

  “Cadi, relax. I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything, but I heard enough to know that there’s nothing going on between you two, okay?”

  “How much did you hear?” A mix of suspicion and dread swept over her features.

  Frank was so encouraged he felt almost giddy. “I heard you tell him to leave.”

  “Oh.” Cadi tried in vain to hide a grimace.

  “I also heard you say something about running errands. I just got off duty. Do you have time to grab a bite to eat?”

  Her blue eyes searched his face. “I was beginning to think you didn’t want to see me again.”

  He noted her wounded expression and took hold of her hand. “Let’s talk over supper. How ’bout it?”

  Seventeen

  Cadi toyed with the handle of her stoneware coffee mug as she sat across the table from Frank. She watched him eat the last of his honey ham sandwich, complete with thick slices of cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, mustard, red onions, and cucumbers. It resembled the salad she’d eaten except it’d been stuffed between two fat pieces of whole wheat and herb bread.

  She grinned as he polished off the last of his meal. A couple of weeks ago Aunt Lou had commented that Frank and his kids were fun to cook for because of their hearty appetites.

  He pushed his plate to the end of the long, narrow table. “So, you see, I never wanted to hurt you,” he said, wrapping up his explanation for not contacting her sooner. “I just thought maybe things between us were moving too fast.”

  She hid a wince and dared not ask if he still felt that way. She suspected he’d heard her blunder while speaking with Darrell earlier. Should she explain? Maybe she didn’t mean “love”—if not, then what did she mean?

  “I have to protect my kids,” Frank continued. “They adore you, and I don’t want them to get hurt. I don’t want any of us to get hurt.”

  “Me, either.” She did wonder, however, what point he was trying to make. Did he want to see her more? Less? Not at all?