Protecting the Widow's Heart. Lorraine Beatty

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СКАЧАТЬ Moving to the expansive windows, she gazed out at the lake, now sparkling with sunlight. The old oak trees with their gnarled limbs, heavy with Spanish moss, painted a picture of serenity that beckoned her weary soul.

      Grabbing a throw from the sofa, she headed out to the deck, removed the plastic covers from the wooden rockers and curled up, draping the throw across her lap. The air was chilly, but the knitted cover provided plenty of warmth. January in Mississippi was something she could get used to.

      Another sip of coffee relaxed her enough to let go of her worries for a moment and take in the view. Below the deck the lawn sloped down to the water’s edge. A long, sturdy pier stretched out into the lake. Trees hid the Coopers’ cabin from view on one side. It was easy to imagine she was all alone on the lake. As her gaze traveled to the opposite side of the property, she saw the covered boat slip and the small shed attached. Was that the boathouse the owner had mentioned? It was tiny, too small to house a bed, she was sure.

      The man—Durrant—was a good six feet tall. He must have been cramped in the little shed. He’d be eager to sleep in his own bed tonight, and she couldn’t blame him. She and Elliot would have to find another place to go. Someplace cheap. But that still left the question of car repairs. She hoped it would be something simple like a battery or fan belt. Anything more she couldn’t afford. Her gaze drifted back to the view, allowing her worries to slip into the back of her mind once more. Her soul craved peace like a thirsty sponge. She needed to fill up while she had the opportunity.

      Movement near the water’s edge drew her attention. Mr. Durrant was seated in one of the Adirondack chairs tucked between the trees. He stood, rolling his shoulders backward a couple of times, then reaching down to rub the side of one leg. Picking up a thick book from the arm of the chair, he started up the yard toward the cabin. He moved with a fluid, athletic grace, his long stride propelling him forward, but with a slight limp that piqued her curiosity and her compassion.

      She was struck once again by his height. Perhaps the limp was due to sleeping in the small boathouse. The least she could do was offer him a fresh cup of coffee. He’d been generous about letting them remain in the cabin last night. He could easily have ordered them out. She stood and moved to the railing, hoping to draw his attention. He stopped and glanced up at her with an expectant expression.

      She hadn’t realized what an attractive man he was last night. Her first impression hadn’t been good. He’d been a tall, angry man threatening her world. Today he looked friendly and approachable. “I have coffee made, if you’d like a cup.”

      A small smile moved his lips. “I’ll be right up.”

      She was pulling a clean mug from the cupboard when he tapped on the door. She motioned him in.

      “That smells great. I tried to make coffee in the boathouse, but the pot is useless. Looks like some rodent chewed through the cord.” He placed the thick book he carried at the end of the island.

      The dark jeans and brown sweater he’d worn last night had been replaced with gray sweatpants and matching hooded jacket over a faded maroon college T-shirt. He was taller than she remembered, too. The angry expression was now relaxed and friendly, prompting her regrets again. “I’m sorry you had to sleep in that tiny boathouse. I’m sure it was uncomfortable.”

      He looked at her over the rim of his cup. “No. It’s actually bigger than you’d expect. You’ll have to come and take a look. No one stays there anymore, so it’s not as well equipped as the cabin. How did you sleep?”

      “Better than I’d expected, considering.”

      “Considering?”

      Ginger clutched her mug between her hands. “We’re uninvited guests. I’m sure you’re eager to have your cabin to yourself. As soon as I can make other arrangements, we’ll be gone. I just don’t know how long that will take.”

      “Yeah, well, we need to talk about that. Why don’t we go out on the deck and sort this out?”

      Her heart contracted. He was going to ask them to go. He’d be nice about it, but the end result would be the same. Homeless, broke and alone. Out on the deck, Ginger found the temperature had risen, and she no longer needed the throw. She took a seat in the rocker. Durrant pulled up the other one, angling it so they could talk.

      She stole a quick look at him. He was a handsome man with thick brown hair that spilled over his forehead in an unruly fashion. But it was his eyes that captivated her. The bluest, clearest eyes she’d ever seen. Like a summer sky. With long lashes above high cheekbones, the angular, masculine planes of his face were softened by full lips and a chin with a slight cleft.

      Despite his attractiveness, he appeared a bit gaunt, as if his frame was used to carrying more weight. The deep creases on either side of his mouth looked as if they’d been carved from pain rather than laughter. Her curiosity grew.

      “Nels said your car won’t start. How did you end up here at the cabins? Few people wander this far from the park or campgrounds.”

      Ginger quickly explained the circumstances.

      “Arizona. That’s still a few days’ drive from here.”

      “I know. I need to be there by the end of next week at the latest. My mother has a job lined up for me. I’m hoping the car will be fixed quickly.”

      “Zeke Owens runs the best garage in town. And he’s honest. He won’t steer you wrong.”

      “That’s good to know, but that’s not my main concern.” No need to be coy. The situation was too dire. “Mr. Durrant, I need to be honest with you. I’m in no position to pay you back for the use of your cabin. In fact, I have no idea how I’ll pay for the car repairs. I have only enough money to get me to my mother’s. If it hadn’t been for Nels offering your place for the night, Elliot and I would have slept in the car.” She braved a look at her host.

      “Call me Ty. Mr. Durrant is my dad.”

      The kindness and sympathy in his blue eyes sent a funny tingle along her skin. She took a sip of her coffee to collect herself. “Ginger. It’s short for Virginia.”

      “There’s no one you can call for help?”

      She shook her head. “My mom is on a fixed income. She sent me all she could afford.” She could see the next question forming in the man’s mind and hastened to address it. “My husband died a year ago. It’s only me and Elliot.”

      “Mom.” Elliot came onto the deck, hurrying to his mother’s side. “I’m hungry.”

      She squeezed his hand, grateful for the interruption. “Good morning, sleepyhead. Well, let’s see what we can do about that.”

      * * *

      Ty watched mother and child leave the deck, his protective instincts kicking into high gear. Alone and broke. There was no way he’d ask them to leave the cabin now. His heart sank. His prayer time this morning had strengthened him, but it was ebbing away quickly. He needed time to sort out his future. He had a big decision to make, and he couldn’t do that with people in his cabin. But he couldn’t toss them out, either.

      Father, what are You doing? I need Your guidance and direction. I need answers.

      The grinding of gears and the roar of a diesel engine invaded the quiet morning. Zeke’s tow truck had arrived.

      Ty СКАЧАТЬ