Protecting the Widow's Heart. Lorraine Beatty
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      “Who’s that?”

      He grinned, deepening the crevices in his cheek. “The good Lord.”

      His words cast a shadow over her mood. “Maybe He’s too busy to listen.”

      A frown creased Ty’s forehead, causing a strand of hair to fall over it. “He listens to the prayers of all His children.”

      He sounded so confident. But she knew otherwise. “Elliot. Time to come in.” Back inside the cabin, she headed to the kitchen. As she passed the island, she spotted the book she’d seen Ty reading earlier. It was a worn leather Bible. Why hadn’t God listened to her prayers?

      Ty entered the cabin with Elliot at his side. “I’m heading to town shortly. Would you and Elliot like to tag along? We can stock up on supplies and check in with Zeke to see if he has a diagnosis on your car yet.”

      She wanted to find out about her car, but the thought of leaving the safety of the cabin, putting herself into unknown situations, talking to strangers, triggered all her old fears. She knew it was cowardly, but she couldn’t help it. “No. I have things to do here. Besides, I want to wait for the call.”

      She reached for her cell phone, only to remember it was out of minutes. She needed time alone to gather her strength for what was to come. She thought about what Ty had said, about him needing alone time. That was something they had in common. But she had to have a phone. There was only one other solution—swallow her pride and ask for help. She’d done that already when she’d contacted her mother after a nine-year silence. Apparently, she’d have to swallow a lot more until she could get to her mom’s and start fresh. “Could I ask you for a favor?”

      “Name it.”

      “Could you have my phone loaded with more minutes? If you’ll bring me the receipt, I’ll pay you back.”

      “Sure. Hey, I just remembered. I have an old plug-in phone around here someplace, and the cabin’s wired for it.” He moved to the cabinet under the television, then to a lower drawer in the kitchen, finally pulling out a landline phone. He carried it to the end table and plugged it into the phone jack in the wall. “I can call you on this if I need to. I’ll give the number to the garage, too.”

      “Thank you.” He seemed to think of everything. “I appreciate that.”

      * * *

      Ty pulled his vehicle into an empty parking space in front of the Dover city government complex, turned off the engine and hopped out. His gaze fell on the items piled to the roof in the back of his SUV. If his instincts were correct, this was the sum total of Ginger and Elliot’s possessions. His stomach turned queasy. They truly were homeless.

      When he’d stopped by Zeke’s earlier to check on Ginger’s car, he’d noticed all the boxes and bags stuffed in the trunk and the backseat. He doubted anyone would mess with their belongings while at the shop, but better safe than sorry. He’d transferred it all to his car, intending to store it in one of the cabinets below the cabin until she left. Which, according to Zeke, might be a while. The car was in bad shape. The preliminary once-over indicated a transmission problem, which always meant big bucks.

      Ty had made Zeke promise to call him first with the final assessment. Hopefully, he could find a way to tell Ginger, or better yet, have an alternative plan in place. He wanted to know what had happened to land them in this situation, but even in the short time he’d known them, it was clear that Ginger Sloan wasn’t one who accepted help easily.

      Crossing the parking lot, he pulled open the glass door and stepped inside the sprawling building that housed the police department and other city offices. The modern facility was a new addition since he’d been home last.

      His main reason for stopping by was to check in with the local police, let them know another officer was in town. Technically, since he was on medical leave, he had no authority here in Dover, but it was common courtesy to make his presence known. More importantly, he wanted to see his old mentor, Chief Brady Reynolds.

      Inside the building, Ty glanced around, getting his bearings. The reception area was large and spacious with several rows of chairs for waiting, many of them occupied. The information desk consisted of a large window above a wide counter. A hallway to the right extended the length of the building. Signs placed perpendicular to the doors directed residents to various departments. The sign above the hall to the left designated the police department.

      Ty started toward the information window as two uniformed Dover police officers strode into the reception room and toward the front door. A cold vise clamped around his heart. A knot the size of a football formed in his gut. He started to sweat, his hands balling into tight fists at his side.

      His mind struggled to process what he was seeing. People moving about. Phones ringing in the background. The tension and activity of a city complex. All of it so familiar. While he’d never worked as a police officer here in Dover, all stations had the same feeling for him. Home. Where he belonged. Now being here filled him with doubt and fear and feelings of failure and guilt. He willed himself to get control. He hadn’t anticipated this kind of reaction.

      Forcing a few deep breaths, he fought back the fear and moved forward to the man seated at the information desk. “I’d like to see Chief Reynolds, please.”

      The man eyed him closely. Did he look as freaked out as he felt?

      “Name?”

      “Ty...” If he gave his last name, his family would hear about it before he could blink. “Just tell him Ty is here. He’ll know.”

      After a quickly placed call, the man leaned forward and gestured to the right. “Down that hall. First door on the left.”

      With each step down the tiled hallway, Ty’s anxiety grew. It was always like this. One minute he was fine, the next he was caught in a tidal wave of emotion he couldn’t control. Maybe, once he’d made his decision, these anxiety attacks would disappear.

      Chief Brady Reynolds met him at his office door. “Well, this is a nice surprise. I saw your dad this morning, and he never said a word about you being home.” Reynolds shook Ty’s hand and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder before pulling him into the office and closing the door. He sat down behind his desk, gesturing for Ty to be seated.

      Ty eased into the chair, grimacing at a sudden stitch in his side. “That’s because the family doesn’t know I’m here.”

      Brady drew his eyebrows together. “You don’t say. Is there a reason for that?”

      Exhaling a heavy sigh, Ty lifted one shoulder. “I need time to sort things out. I can’t do that if they’re hovering all the time.”

      “I understand. So, what brings you here?”

      His mentor’s easy manner and warm smile chased away the last of Ty’s anxiety attack. “I just wanted to check in, let you know I’m in town. In case you need the assistance of a big-city cop. Someone with real experience.”

      Reynolds smiled at the teasing dig. “What I need is an officer who loves the town.” Brady grunted and leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk. “This little visit have anything to do with the shooting?”

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