Ty kept the conversation going during the meal with bigger and more outrageous tales of his days spent at the cabin growing up. As Ginger carried the dishes to the kitchen, she tried to recall the last time she and her son had enjoyed such a happy, relaxed meal. She couldn’t.
Ty came to her side and turned on the faucet, rinsing the dishes, then handing them to her to place in the dishwasher, as if cleaning up was expected of him. “You’re pretty handy in the kitchen. Tomorrow night, you can cook.”
He smiled at her. “Actually, tomorrow is already taken care of. I have an invitation for you. I’d like to take you and EJ to church in the morning.”
His invitation caught her off guard. The thought of church filled her with anxious dread—like being called into the principal’s office for misbehaving. She was still sorting through all her feelings, reaching out tentative fingers to touch the Lord again. “I couldn’t impose.”
“It’s not an imposition.”
Ginger didn’t want to appear rude. Ty had done so much for them already, but she wasn’t strong enough to face the Lord’s disapproval yet. “We’ll be fine here.”
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t press the issue. “Church was only half of the invitation. You’re invited to my parents’ home after the service for dinner. My mother has sent her personal request. She’s anxious to meet you and EJ.”
“I don’t know.”
Ty tilted his head and smiled. “I promise you’ll get a real feast. Plus, we can all put our heads together and come up with job ideas. I know EJ would love to play with my nephew, Kenny.”
“Please, Mom. Ty says Kenny is fun. I want a friend to play with.”
Dinner with Ty’s family? Not a good idea. She had to keep her walls up. She couldn’t withstand any more emotional upheaval, like making connections she’d have to sever soon. “I don’t think so.”
“Come on. It’s only dinner.”
He just didn’t understand. She had to stay focused on her goal. All she wanted was to get out of Dover and to Arizona. Then she and Elliot could put the past few years behind them and start over.
“Mom?”
The excitement in her son’s eyes was so wonderful to see, it weakened her resolve. Ty had a point. It was only dinner, and it would do Elliot good to have a friend to play with. “All right.”
Ty and EJ exchanged fist bumps with explosions.
“Time to get ready for bed, Elliot. Go get your bath.”
EJ’s shoulders slumped, and he uttered a long, low groan. “A bath? Do I have to?”
His pitiful plea didn’t faze her. “Yes. That means washing your hair, too.”
“Mom.”
“Go. You can watch television in your room for a while if you hurry. I’ll even bring you some hot chocolate if you get really clean.”
“TV? Really? Cool.”
Ginger offered an explanation to Ty, who looked puzzled by EJ’s excitement over the TV. “We haven’t had a television for over a year.”
Ty nodded his understanding, and leaned down to place the last plate into the dishwasher.
Ginger noticed him wince, her gaze landing on his neck and the ugly scar that ran along the side, ending near his collarbone. She sucked in sharply. “Ty? What happened to you?”
He froze in place, then slowly straightened, a strange, forced smile on his face. “I didn’t duck fast enough.”
His flippant remark sparked anger. “What?”
“I was shot.”
Her heart stopped beating. Memories flared. “Why? What happened?”
“My partner and I were caught in an ambush. He died. I took three rounds.”
Her brain was processing the information in slow motion. “Partner?”
“I’m a detective with the Dallas P.D. I’m on medical leave. Recuperating.”
“You’re a policeman?” Her mind recoiled with the knowledge. A man who carried a gun. A man who lived a life of violence. Always in harm’s way. Always on the edge of death. She turned away from him, leaning against the side of the fridge. This couldn’t be happening again.
“Ginger, what’s wrong? Are you all right?”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe this. I thought I could get away from the violence and the danger. All I wanted was to put that behind me.”
“Put what behind you? You’re not making any sense.” He came toward her, but she ducked into the living room.
“Of course I’m not making any sense. None of it makes sense. I’ve been over it a million times, relived every moment in my head, but there’s still no rhyme or reason for any of it.” Suddenly drained, she sank down onto the hearth, one hand covering her mouth. Ty sat on the coffee table, his eyes filled with concern. For her. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at her that way. As if she mattered.
Her gaze drifted from the questions in his eyes to the side of his neck and the ugly scar. She shuddered as a wave of terror and helplessness tore through her. “My husband was shot. We stopped at a fast-food restaurant one night. Elliot wanted one of their kids’ meals. We were in a hurry, so John ran in to get the food. He brought the food out, then went back inside. They’d given him the wrong change. I heard the shots. I... Two people were killed. John was shot in the back. He was paralyzed from the waist down. He was a security guard. The police later speculated that when he went back in he was probably mistaken for a real policeman, and the shooter panicked.”
Ty bowed his head, then looked up at her. His hand slipped over hers, his fingers closing around hers gently. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. And Elliot?”
“He didn’t see anything. But he heard the shots.” She wanted to pull her hand from Ty’s, but the warmth of his touch gave her comfort. It was nice to have someone to listen, someone who would actually understand. There’d been no one to share her fear with, her heartache. “That day changed everything. One act of senseless violence. One stupid gunman. I’ve tried to understand and make sense of it, but I can’t.”
“There’s no sense to it.”
“I never understood why he liked the job or why the uniform made him feel so invincible. He was only a security guard at an office building. He signed people in and out, but he liked carrying that gun.” She looked up at him. “Why do you do it? Why do you choose to live a life filled with violence?”
Ty’s blue eyes darkened to gray. “I didn’t. I was called to a job where I could stand in the gap between people like you and the ones who commit the violence.”
“But the violence touched you.”
“True.” He inhaled a slow breath. “I don’t have any easy answers for you, Ginger. I don’t have answers for myself right now.”
The same conclusions she’d come to. No answers. No explanation. No closure. She pulled her fingers from Ty’s grasp. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” She stood, folding her arms across her chest. “Thank you for helping with supper.”
Ty