Protecting the Widow's Heart. Lorraine Beatty

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СКАЧАТЬ Valley she could rebuild her life and find peace.

      Closing her eyes, she willed herself to calm down. She noticed a sturdy lock on the gun cabinet’s door. She tugged on it, satisfied it was secure. She was safe. For the moment anyway.

      Moving to the front door of the cabin, she locked it, checked all the windows and found them secured, as well. There was nothing else she could do. Back in the master bedroom she prepared for bed, trying to keep some perspective. The Coopers seemed like nice people. Kind and helpful. But she was stranded in the backwoods of Mississippi with strangers and without a car.

      Reaching for her phone, she slid it open. She was almost out of minutes, but she had to call her mother and let her know where they were, and that they might be a few days late. “Mom?”

      “Ginny, sweetheart, is everything okay?”

      The sound of her mother’s voice washed through her with a comforting warmth she’d long missed. Too many years had passed with no contact. Her fault entirely. Turning her back on the values and wisdom of her parents had seemed like freedom at the time, but only proved to be her downfall. But she intended to correct that now. “I’ve run into a little car trouble, and I’m spending the night at Shiloh Lake. It’s near a small town called Dover, Mississippi. I wanted you to know in case.”

      “In case what?”

      The concern in her mother’s voice touched her heart. “Well...in case I have to stay awhile. I don’t know what’s wrong with my car yet. I’ll find out tomorrow.”

      “Oh, dear. I hope you can still get here within the next week. I talked to my friend, and he’ll hold off making a decision until he meets with you, but he really needs to fill the position as soon as possible.”

      “I know. I’ll do my best.”

      “Ginny, you sound strange. Is anything else wrong?”

      “No. Well, yes. There’s a gun cabinet here in the cabin, and it brought back things I don’t want to remember.”

      “Guns? Oh, sweetheart, are you safe there?”

      “Yes, they’re secured. But—” Tears sprang to her eyes and she swiped them away. “If only John hadn’t put on that stupid uniform.”

      “I thought you said he liked being a security guard for that big office building.”

      “He did. But the police thought seeing John in his uniform is what set the gunman off. He thought John was the real police.”

      “Oh, Ginger. You never told me that. I’m so sorry. We have so much to catch up on. Hurry home to me. I love you, honey.”

      Her mother’s words triggered more tears. “I will, Mom. Love you, too. I’m running low on minutes, so I’d better go. I just wanted to let you know.”

      “Sweetheart, I wish I could help you. I wish I had some money to send you but...”

      “It’s okay, Mom. We’ve met a nice couple who are helping us out. We’ll be fine. Don’t worry about us.”

      But worry was all she could do as she hung up, moved to the bathroom and prepared for bed. Rinsing the cleanser from her face, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked pale as a ghost and tired. She couldn’t remember looking any other way. Maybe, once she got to Spring Valley, she could spend a little time on herself. A stray lock of hair fell against her cheek. With an irritated grunt she grabbed a clip and fastened it in place. She’d tried everything to keep that cowlick at her temple under control. Cutting it off only made it stick out more. Curling and straightening never lasted more than an hour. As a result, it was forever hanging over her ear and brushing her cheek. Tugging it out of the way had developed into a habit. A professional stylist could probably help, but who could afford that?

      Slipping between the covers, she turned her mind to getting some rest. The firm bed, with fresh sheets smelling like pine, wrapped her in comfort. The soothing combination beckoned her to let go of her fears and sleep. She could hear her son’s steady breathing from across the hall. At least he would get some rest. She had too much on her mind. Such as how she was going to pay for car repairs, how she’d get to her mother’s in time to take the much-needed job and how she was going to repay the owner of this cabin for using it. The Coopers had assured her there was no need, but Ginger knew firsthand the crushing burden of debt, and she refused to be indebted to anyone ever again.

      Please, God. If You’re listening this time, all I’m asking is to get to Mom’s, so we can find a nice, safe place to start over.

      * * *

      The pain on his left side started at his thigh, traveled through his side and up to his neck. Tyler Durrant shifted his weight in the driver’s seat and peered into the distance. The sign for Shiloh Lake was a few yards up ahead. He was almost at the cabin. He should have stopped and stretched his tired body hours ago, but he’d been too intent on getting to his sanctuary. He’d left Dallas on impulse late this afternoon and driven straight through with only a quick stop for gas and a package of cookies.

      Slowing, he made the turn onto the narrow gravel road winding behind the twenty or so cabins lining the shores of the lake. What had once been a few remote fishing camps had grown into a small community of weekend cabins positioned close enough to keep residents from feeling isolated but far enough apart that you didn’t feel your neighbor’s eyes prying into your business. It was the perfect place for Ty to hide out and think things through.

      A twinge of guilt pricked his conscience as he steered his car toward his cabin. He hadn’t told his family he was coming back to Dover. He had a hard enough time with all his well-meaning fellow officers in Dallas. His family would be hovering and worrying, and he needed peace and quiet—time to figure out his future and make what could be the most important decision of his life. The cabin his uncle had left him was the perfect place. Quiet, private and peaceful. If he couldn’t find his answers here, there were no answers to be found.

      His medical leave was up at the end of the month. He had to decide if he would remain in law enforcement or look for work elsewhere. He knew what he wanted. He liked being a detective for the Dallas Police Department. But being shot had left him filled with doubts about his ability to do the job and stolen the sense of invincibility a police officer needed to function. He hadn’t been able to pick up his service weapon since. What kind of cop could he be if he was too scared to use his gun?

      Pressing his foot on the brake, he eased his SUV into the parking area beneath the cabin and stopped. Hands gripping the wheel, he sent up a quick prayer. Lord, I need Your help sorting this out. I can’t do it without You. Show me the future I should choose.

      His body protested as he pulled himself out of the car and retrieved his bag from the backseat. His thigh burned as he climbed the steps, the scar tissue pulling and stinging with each step. He inhaled a sharp breath. His wounds had healed completely, but overuse or lack of sleep brought back the aches and discomfort.

      The fear and guilt, however, were always with him. He’d been over that night four months ago when he and his partner, Pete Steele, had made a follow-up call on a homicide case. The interview had taken an odd turn, so Pete had called for backup. But on the way to the car, a gunman had appeared around the side of the house, catching him by surprise. He’d hesitated, taking rounds to his thigh, his side and his neck. Pete had taken one to the chest and died. A death that Ty could have prevented if he’d acted more quickly.

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