Heart's Haven (2 page)

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Authors: Lois Richer

BOOK: Heart's Haven
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“I’m really sorry Elizabeth didn’t tell you that we aren’t quite ready to open, Cassidy.” Ty gnawed on his bottom lip. “I don’t suppose you could get your boss to hire you back for a month or so, just until we get things shipshape?”

“I’d have to go back to Greece to do that and I don’t think it would be worth it for one month.” Cassidy kept her expression neutral as she surveyed the area. “I’ll get settled in my place over the weekend. Monday morning I’ll start cleaning in here. If you can find some helpers—”

A tremendous crash above them cut off the rest of her words. Ty instantly froze. One word whispered from his lips.

“Jack.”

It took a second before he turned and raced out of the room, his footsteps hammering the stairs as he charged upward. Cassidy followed, besieged by memories. Ty paused on the first floor, but a weak cry from above them sent him racing up a second flight.

Ty charged through a doorway. Cassidy followed then jerked to a stop. Jack lay on his back by the far wall, shards of mirror surrounding his prone body, a pool of blood forming around his head. A six-inch jagged spear of glass protruded from his brow, barely missing his right eye.

“Oh, no.” Ty remained frozen to the spot, hands clenching against his sides.

“Help me.” Jack’s words slipped from between lips drained so white they looked almost lifeless.

“Yes.” But Ty’s eyes brimmed with fear as they locked on Cassidy’s, begging her to do something.

She slapped her phone into his palm before kneeling beside the injured boy.

“Call 911,” she ordered. When he didn’t obey, she snapped, “Now.”

While he pushed the buttons, she did a quick survey of Jack then tried to make him more comfortable. A mirror hanging from the wall must have come off and landed on Jack.

“Lie still,” she murmured. “You’ll be fine. The ambulance will be here soon. It’s going to be okay. Try not to move.”

She felt Ty brush her arm as he crouched down beside her.

“They’re coming. The glass—” he whispered. “Shouldn’t we—” He reached out.

Cassidy grabbed his hand, pulled it back and held it with both of her own.

“Don’t touch it!”

Jack’s eyes flared open. She could see panic growing in their depths.

“Uncle Ty? Am I going to die like Mom?”

So he’d lost his mother. For a fraction of a moment, Cassidy could see into his boyish heart, to the uncertainty that lurked there like a monster in the night.

In that moment, a bond formed between them. She knew exactly how Jack felt because once, a long time ago, she’d felt the same. Scared, lonely, afraid that no one would ever love her as her dead mother had.

She released Ty’s hand with a warning glance, then bent forward and placed her palms against Jack’s cheeks. She waited till he was wholly focused on her.

“You’re not going to die, Jack.” She smiled to soften the harshness of her words, made her voice steady, reassuring. “You’re going to lie very still until the paramedics come. They’ll take you to the hospital and the doctors will help you. Then all the pretty nurses are going to come and fawn over you and offer you ice cream and try to get your telephone number for their daughters. Okay?”

Jack started to nod his head, but Cassidy tightened her fingers and held him still.

“You must have missed the first part,” she teased. “Lie very still. Blink if you understand.”

He blinked a whole bunch of times. Cassidy smiled.

“Good. I saw that in the movies and always wanted to try it.” She grinned. “Guess it works, huh? Does your voice?”

“Yes.”

“Thought so. Hey, that sounds like the ambulance.” She turned to Ty. “Can you go and show them where to come?”

She knew from his expression that he did not want to leave. Yet something else told her that given the choice, Ty St. John would run as far and as fast from this situation as he could, which was exactly why she would not leave Jack. Ty was too upset to handle this.

When Ty opened his mouth to protest, Cassidy gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head and leaned so her lips were next to his ear.

“Go quickly.”

He rose to his feet like a man in a daze, offered his nephew a shaky smile.

“I thought I was in charge here, but she’s pretty bossy, don’t you think?”

A smile fluttered across Jack’s white lips. “Yeah.”

“I think you and I are going to have to watch it. You keep your eye on her while I go get the paramedics.” Tyson took one last look before hurrying out of the room.

Cassidy checked Jack’s vitals, noted the widening circle of blood. She picked up his hand and held it between her own.

“You are doing fine, Jack.”

“Can you pray for me?”

The words caught Cassidy off guard.

“When my mom was sick, she would ask me to pray for her. She always said it made her feel better. So can you pray for me?”

Years had passed since Cassidy had trusted anyone, let alone God. But Jack’s pleading face could not be denied. She squeezed his hand and bowed her head, searching for the right words.

“God, you know that Jack has been hurt. And you know that he’s afraid right now. Please help him.”

It was a pathetic prayer, but at least it came to a quick end, thanks to the paramedics bursting into the room. She glanced down at Jack, felt the squeeze of his fingers around hers. One of the medics hunkered beside her, tried to nudge her out of the way. But Jack wouldn’t let go of her hand.

“Thanks,” he whispered, brown eyes shining.

“You’re very welcome.” Cassidy swallowed around the lump in her throat.

“Step back, please. We need to move him.”

Jack squeezed her fingers once more, then let go. Cassidy stood by and watched them prepare him for the ride to the hospital.

Such gratefulness, and for what? A few paltry words? She had done nothing, and yet Jack seemed to relax, to gain confidence from her silly prayer. She watched as they loaded him onto a gurney, then followed as they carried him out of the building.

A child’s blind trust.
She’d had that once.

“I’m going with him. Would you be able to drive my car to the hospital?” Clearly back in control, Ty fished a set of keys out of the coat he was carrying. “It’s parked behind the building. Ms. Preston?”

“Y-yes, of course.” Cassidy gulped and accepted the keys from him. “I’ll lock up and follow you. I want to see how he does, too.”

Jack was inside the ambulance now. The paramedics waited impatiently, but Ty paused a moment longer, his face solemn.

“Thank you. I froze back there. I couldn’t—” He shook his head as if to clear the image as he searched for words.

“Go.” Cassidy urged him forward. “Your nephew needs you now.”

He nodded, turned and strode toward the ambulance. Once he’d climbed inside, it took off. Shivering, she waited until the flashing lights disappeared from sight before turning back toward the building. Leaving Greece in January—was she crazy?

She retrieved her coat and purse, then stepped out the front door.

A grizzled old man, dressed in a shabby overcoat, stood on the bottom stoop.

“What happened?” He didn’t sound like a curious onlooker. He sounded concerned, worried.

She debated whether or not to tell him, then decided it could do no harm. But first she had some questions of her own.

“Who are you?”

“Mac. I’ve been coming here awhile, helping Ty get the place cleaned out.” The skin on his forehead drew into a crease. “The boy got hurt, didn’t he?”

“Yes, Jack broke a mirror and some of it cut him. He’s going to need some stitches. I’m going to the hospital as soon as I lock up.”

“Ty’ll blame himself.”

“It wasn’t his fault. It was an accident.”

“Ty doesn’t always see things that way.”

That sounded strange but Cassidy had no time to probe deeper. She stepped around him, pulled the door closed and used the keys Elizabeth had sent her to lock it.

“Things will probably be back to normal on Monday. Why don’t you come back then.”

He nodded, turned away. “Ty will have nightmares tonight.”

Cassidy frowned as she watched him leave. Ty? Nightmares? What an odd thing to say. Maybe he’d meant Jack.

As Cassidy drove to the hospital, her thoughts flew to the young boy who’d lost so much blood and to the man who’d seemed more traumatized than the child.

Not that it was any of her business.

But when she weighed her own electric connection with Tyson St. John with the unusual way his nephew had touched something she usually kept buried deep inside, Cassidy couldn’t help being intrigued by Ty and Jack’s relationship.

You’re here to do a job and not to get sidetracked by a good-looking man and his nephew.

Her brain issued the message, but it also conjured up an image of Ty leaning against the counter, winking at her. Her pulse fluttered in response.

Don’t even go there. Focus on your future.

And the dream.

Yeah, she’d concentrate on the dream.

Chapter Two

C
assidy Preston was late.

Ty tossed two more bags of garbage into a plastic bin, then glanced—for the tenth time—at the big metal clock on the kitchen wall.

“Seems like the cook must’ve slept in, Elizabeth,” he muttered as he swept up a pile of debris. “How is she going to handle breakfast at six if she can’t get to work on a Monday morning by eleven?”

“You might be surprised by what I can handle.”

Ty whirled around. Cassidy leaned against the door frame, wearing a short espresso-toned jacket shot with the same silver as her eyes. Her smug expression told him she hadn’t been sleeping in. He was stupidly pleased by the way her eyes lit up when she looked around.

“Very nice.” Her gaze rested for a moment on the saucepan he’d left on the counter—the sparkling clean saucepan. A smile eased the severity of her lips. “I hear Jack was released. Everything okay?”

“He’s doing very well. Thanks for asking. The doctors sent him home once they were sure he was okay and the stitches were holding. He’s supposed to be on bed rest till school starts, but I doubt anyone can hold him to that.” Ty grimaced. “Keeping him quiet while he heals is going to be the hard part.”

“Well, he
is
a boy. I don’t suppose it’s all that easy to lie around when all your friends are outside.”

Ty could’ve told her that Jack didn’t have many friends, that ever since his mother’s death he’d grown more introverted. He could’ve told her that he was concerned by the boy’s aimlessness, by his lack of interest in the swimming team on which he’d once excelled, or the Rollerblading that had worried his mother. He could’ve told her that, since Gail’s death, he’d tried a thousand things to draw the boy’s interest and that none of them had worked.

Thankfully, he didn’t get a chance to relate that sad history.

“You’ve made quite a difference in here. Did you work all weekend?”

“Nope. I started at the crack of dawn.” No way would he tell her why. “Someone tried to break in Friday night so I hired Mac to act as our night watchman. He was a cop once. He says you’ve met.”

She nodded.

“When I showed up here this morning it was pretty early. I think I scared the wits out of him.” The old man’s disgruntled complaints still rang in Ty’s ears.

“Well, whenever you started and however long it took, you’ve done a great job.”

“Thank you. Does that mean you’re cooking lunch?”

She tossed him a “when pigs fly” look.

“Regarding that.” Cassidy frowned. “I wonder if it would be possible to haul out those old refrigeration units while you’re in your cleaning mode. They smell.”

“Haul them away?” Did he look like an ox? “Sure—if I can scrounge up about another six men and some kind of pulley system.”

“I can help you.” She took another look, shaking her head. “You’re right. We’d need Hercules.”

Ty probed past the friendly smile, glimpsed something she wasn’t saying.

“These old things are all we have. If we throw them out—”

A satisfied smirk originated in Cassidy’s silver-gray eyes and swooped down to tip up the corners of her generous mouth. Funny he hadn’t noticed her great smile before, but then she hadn’t smiled all that much on Friday.

“They
were
all you had.” A spark of mischief played with her smile. “I found something better.”

“You bought new refrigeration?” he asked in disbelief, temper rising at her temerity. He tamped it down with difficulty. “Cassidy, there is no way we can lay out expenditures like that without sourcing all possible providers and getting quotes for the best price. I know you want to get started but you can’t rush ahead on your own.”

“If you’d only—”

“Wherever you got it from, it will have to go back. I’m sorry.” Ty pinned her with a glare, hoping she understood what he wasn’t saying—he was the boss. “You have to take it back.”

“Could you listen—”

“I don’t have to hear any more. It goes back.”

Ty was in charge so she’d better realize
he
would make the major decisions about where the money was spent. He could be more blunt if he had to, but confrontation wasn’t his usual style.

Apparently their new chef had no such problem.

“How dare you?”

Silver flashes from her eyes speared him. So she had a temper. Well, he wasn’t any pushover, either.

“There is no dare about it,” Ty informed her with a firmness that, thanks to Jack, he’d recently learned to apply. “Elizabeth Wisdom’s foundation donated money to turn Gail’s dream into reality. But I can’t authorize—”

“Stop!” She took one step toward him, anger shimmering around her like a field of overcharged electricity. Her voice had risen but her next words were modulated. “I realize you’re in charge here, Mr. St. John. I’m well aware that everything must be approved by you. You are the boss. Got that.”

“Then?” He would not back down.

“I have no intention of threatening your power. I was merely trying to help get this place off the ground. As quickly as possible.”

“But—”

Cassidy’s upheld palm stemmed his protest.

“That’s why I contacted a friend of mine—to get a lead on some equipment. Davis was willing to donate some very good units for which he has no further use.”

His anger shrank to the size of a shriveled pea. “Donate?”

“As in
free.
Gratis. No charge.” She glanced at her watch for the second time. “They’ll be delivered in about two hours. Also free. If we have everything ready, they might just agree to move the units into place.”

Ty had jumped to conclusions, neglecting to ask questions first. In short, he’d done exactly what he always counseled his patients
not
to do. Like some power-hungry freak that sensed his control was threatened, he’d waved his big stick of authority to prove to her that he knew what he was doing.

“I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t much of an apology, but at least it was sincere. Ty stared at his toes, waiting for her response. What happened now would signal how their relationship progressed. Yes, he’d messed up, but they still had to work together.

She could have called, he told himself, and alerted him to the possibility that she’d found some equipment. She could have mentioned she was going to ask some friends for help. She could have—

Ty didn’t have time to analyze his defensiveness.

“Clearly, I made a mistake. You don’t want them.” Cassidy shoved a length of hair behind one ear. “Fine. I’ll phone Davis, see if he will take it all back. I didn’t realize that you had something else already planned. I got so excited when this was available for free that I guess I thought—” She heaved a sigh, closed her eyes and shook her head. “Never mind. I’m sorry I interfered with your plans.”

Now he felt like a first-class jerk.

“I didn’t actually have any plans. Yet. I’m very happy you found this opportunity for us, Cassidy.” Ty caught himself waiting for the glow to return to her face.

“You’re sure?” Who could blame her for being confused?

“Positive.” He took a deep breath and said what he should have said in the first place. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a little awed by the responsibility of getting this place up and running. My sister, Gail—” he struggled to find the right words “—she had a very precise idea of what she wanted the Haven to be like. She spent a lot of time working in this community as an outreach worker. She chose this place because our brother died near here.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“You couldn’t have. As much as I can, I intend to make her dream come true, preferably without spending all the money Elizabeth provided us before we open the doors. Most of the time I’m in way over my head, just trying to stay afloat. And it scares me to death. I guess I took my fears out on you.” Forcing that admission cost Ty but he pressed on. “I sincerely apologize.”

Cassidy’s body language told Ty she wasn’t ready to accept his apology quite yet. He tried again.

“If it seems like I’m a little overprotective about the place, it’s probably because I am. Organizing a shelter—” He held out his hands, palms facing upward. “It’s not my area of expertise and I don’t want to make any mistakes. I’m feeling my way through.”

“What is your field?”

“Counseling. I’m a psychologist. I used to work in the military with the soldiers serving in Iraq.”

“You don’t now?” Curiosity lit up her expression. “Why is that?”

“I quit.” He struggled to find words that would make sense of a situation that even now confused him. “Shortly after I came back, Gail had a massive coronary.”

At first he’d considered coming here charity work, but the longer he concentrated on the Haven, the more Ty began to imagine Gail’s vision coming alive for the residents of this neighborhood—for people like Donnie, who had fallen through the cracks.

In running the Haven Ty saw himself finding his way back to counseling, to helping people improve their lives, work he’d loved.

At least that was his hope.

The truth was that he’d latched onto the Haven like a life preserver because he never again wanted to relive the gut-wrenching horrors he’d seen, terrors he still dreamed of every night.

And of course there was Jack. Ty hoped seeing his mother’s dream come true would help Jack get past the grief that still showed in his eyes, help the two of them bond.

But that wasn’t the entire truth.

In reality, Ty desperately needed the myriad details of this place to keep from panicking about raising a twelve-year-old boy alone.

“Losing your sister must have been devastating, both to you and to Jack,” Cassidy murmured. “Especially for you, having also lost your brother. I’m so sorry.”

That she could be so considerate, especially after his temper tantrum, touched Ty.

“Thank you. It was difficult. But knowing her vision for the Haven is going to become real—that helps a lot.”

“Would you mind telling me what that vision was? How it started?”

Ty closed his eyes, raked a hand through his hair as loss squeezed a grip around his heart.

“Gail and Elizabeth Wisdom were friends for years. They sat on lots of charity boards together.”

In fact, it was Gail who’d introduced Ty to Elizabeth. He recalled the Christmas benefit as if it were yesterday. He’d attended just before he’d been shipped out and found himself caught up in their projects, in the joy they took lending help where it was needed. Those had been happy days.

LaterTy had been glad of the connection when he’d contacted the Wisdom Foundation about making Gail’s dream come true.

“The two of them were like twin caped-crusaders, hunting for things that needed to be done to make the world a better place, and tackling them till they got the results they were after.” He shook his head ruefully. “The Haven grew from an idea Gail had at her last high school reunion. Our brother died of a drug overdose in his senior year. When Gail found out this school was going to be demolished, she decided to use it to make this neighborhood better for the people who live here.”

“She sounds very generous.”

Good thing Jack wasn’t here. Ty longed to talk about his sister, but since Jack hadn’t yet opened up about losing his mother, Ty wasn’t sure exactly how to broach the subject. So he kept silent, never speaking about the sister he’d loved, allowing Jack time to deal with his grief in his own way.

Someday he hoped to share all the funny stories from his childhood. Someday he’d pull out the old photos, talk to Jack about Donnie, how he’d gotten messed up because he made the wrong choices. Someday Ty and Jack would laugh, push past the strained relationship they now shared.

“I’m sorry if it’s painful—”

Ty shook his head.

“Gail had a very successful career in real estate. She left it to work in this community as an outreach worker because she felt that God had blessed her so much she had to share, to make a difference in the world. And for several years she did.”

“I see.”

Ty breathed deeply, forced his shoulders to relax and his fingers to unclench.

“The Haven was Gail’s last dream. I made myself a promise that I’d see my sister’s final project through to completion.”

Silence stretched between them for several moments. Ty felt Cassidy’s gray gaze studying him but he kept his head down, his focus on the floor, because he didn’t want her to see how much that promise was costing him.

Nobody knew of his long nights lying awake, trying to recall if he’d dotted all the i’s, crossed all the t’s, missed any detail that would jeopardize the project. That’s why he didn’t go to bed till long after midnight. That’s why he’d been up at four this morning.

Well, one reason why.

He spent precious hours deliberating over every decision, desperate to avoid the mistake that would spoil Gail’s dream. But even when he finally made a choice, Ty could never be sure it was the right one. That and the constant nightmares were just a small part of the legacy post-traumatic stress disorder had bequeathed him—chronic worry and uncertainty. PTSD was the primary reason he’d left the military, left counseling to someone else, someone who wasn’t dragging about his baggage.

Eventually he hoped to ease back into practice in his own way, on his own terms. Elizabeth had been great with her advice and support, her foundation equally generous, but even she didn’t know exactly how much he had at stake. Whether he could recover, whether he could listen and help someone else—what he discovered here would decide whether he ever practiced again.

For now Ty would see the Haven through to completion—errors and all.

What happened after that—Ty didn’t want to think about it right now.

“May I say something?”

He’d almost forgotten she was there. Cassidy waited until he lifted his head and looked at her.

“I am not trying to usurp your authority, Ty. I don’t want to get in your way, change your decisions or mess with your plans. That is not my intent.” She stood straight and tall, unflinching in her vivid sweater and frayed but fitted jeans. “I am here to help for six months. I owe that to Elizabeth because six years ago she gave me back my life. But at the end of my six months I’ll go my own way, get on with my own plans.”

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