Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
“It’s only stuff.”
That’s what Riley had told Colton as they stood in the middle of the debris that used to be her haven of rest and security.
A place she wasn’t sure she could ever go back to.
Ever again sleep in the master suite she considered her retreat from the world, read in front of the fireplace at the end of a stressful day, or enjoy quiet time with her Bible and a cup of coffee on her flower-bedecked back patio.
Even though she’d lost some precious keepsakes—gifts from loved ones, treasures from her travels—the deepest loss was the sense of home. Her little piece of the world she’d bought and put together as an expression of who she was and what she held dear.
No, it wasn’t about the things. It was about the violation. The knowledge that this stranger had been in her personal space, going through her things, destroying what he believed valuable to her.
Thankfully, she’d had plenty to do to keep herself busy after they’d been stuck at her mess of a house for hours, going through each of the rooms to determine what was missing as opposed to what simply lay in ruins.
Once back at the estate, she’d come straight to her suite and jumped into her myriad tasks, anything to keep her mind occupied.
Hilda brought her a tray with dinner a little after seven, but she hadn’t seen anybody since Colton popped in to check on her around ten.
She hit the Print button and picked up her cup from next to her laptop. Her hot cocoa had long ago grown cool, but since sleep probably wouldn’t be coming any time soon, another wouldn’t hurt.
Not wanting to alert Colton, she moved carefully past his door. In the kitchen, she rinsed out her cup while milk heated in the microwave. She turned and gasped at the sight of a man on the back stairs.
“Colton! You scared me to death.”
“Sorry.” His boyish grin was at odds with the midnight stubble on his face. “I didn’t expect you to be skulking around down here at midnight.”
“I wasn’t skulking.”
“My mistake.” His sock-clad feet made no noise as he walked to the fridge and pulled open the door.
She poured hot milk over the cocoa mix and stirred it together.
Stealing a glance in his direction as he stared into the refrigerator, she was grateful she’d donned a set of warm, modest pajama bottoms with a loose-fitting long-sleeved sweatshirt, since she hadn’t thought to grab a robe.
He, too, wore a pair of plaid pajama pants, and his gray T-shirt outlined an impressive six-pack and hugged his muscular arms. He’d apparently been in bed at some point.
His hair had that mussed look of someone tumbling around trying to get comfortable.
She rinsed the spoon in the sink and cleared her throat. “What’s your excuse for skulking around in the wee hours?”
He pulled a platter from the refrigerator and shut the door. “I got a hankering for some of Hilda’s roast beef. Thought I’d make myself a sandwich.”
“Sounds good.”
“You want one?”
She shook her head. “Not hungry. You enjoy, though. Make yourself at home.”
“Your mom’s been telling me the same all week, which is why I’m down here raiding the kitchen like I own the place. Boy, that cook of yours makes one great roast.”
“Maybe you and she can compare notes.”
“I’m sure I could learn a thing or two.” He pulled out two thick slices of homemade bread and set them on a plate on the kitchen island, generously slathering them with mayonnaise before turning his attention to her. “You okay?”
“Sure.”
His stare didn’t waver.
“I couldn’t sleep.” Not that she’d tried, but it would’ve been a losing battle. “Figured I’d get some work done.”
“You worked all evening. Even missed dinner.”
“Yeah, lost track of the time.” She blew across the top of her steaming cup.
“The holidays are busy times for charity work, but it’s the most lucrative time of the year, so it’s worth the extra effort.
Not to mention Shane’s case. I hadn’t expected to take another client until after the holidays, but I couldn’t put him off. The man needs some hope.”
He nodded but kept piling roast beef onto the bread. She got the impression that morning at breakfast he felt she was being disloyal to her friend. Hopefully, he’d eventually see nothing could be further from the truth, since that’s exactly what she sought—the truth about who killed Caitlyn.
“What about you?” she asked. “Couldn’t you sleep?”
“I did for a couple of hours. A lot on my mind, I guess.”
“Work stuff?”
He sat at the table. “Some.”
“Would you like something to drink? Milk? Water?”
“Milk sounds good.”
She took the milk back out of the fridge and poured him a glass, then carried it with her hot chocolate to the table.
“Thanks.”
“Care for some company?”
“Have a seat.”
She took the chair across from him. “So, what else?”
He cut his sandwich in two. “What else what?”
“You said some. What else is keeping you awake?”
He plucked a napkin from the holder in the middle of the table, put one half of his sandwich on it, and slid it over to her. “Eat that.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“So, what else?”
“You’re very nosy.”
“I am.” She took a bite of the sandwich. Maybe she was being nosy. But her curiosity had its limits, and she was dying to know who was with him, looking oh-so-cozy in the picture on his wall. “A woman?”
Taking his own hefty bite, he lifted his head and chewed for a moment, watching her with a thoughtful expression until he swallowed. “Maybe.”
“The blonde?”
His brow crinkled. “What blonde?”
Okay, that was interesting. “The one from your house. In the picture on your wall.”
His face blanched, and he dipped his head. “The blonde.”
“She’s lovely.” She hoped she hadn’t stepped too far into his personal business. He always seemed to shut down if she got too close. “Is she … special?”
“Yes.”
“Serious?” She took another bite and wished she didn’t care. Was she a girlfriend? Current? Former? And why did that idea make her pulse catch?
Several ticks of the clock above the table went by in silence before he cleared his throat. “My wife.”
That last bite of sandwich went down hard. “I thought you said you weren’t married.”
“Theresa passed away four years ago. Leukemia.”
Her heart constricted. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“So am I. She was a spectacular person. We were childhood pals, started dating in college, and got married a week after we graduated.”
“Then you were married a while before she … well, you were married a while.”
“Ten years.”
“And you had no children?”
“We wanted them. But after years of trying and a lot of tests, we found out she couldn’t.
We were on the list to adopt, but then she got sick, and for two years, our lives revolved around getting her well.
We thought we’d licked it when she went into remission.
But less than a year later, it came back.
She died waiting for a marrow transplant. ”
Her heart ached for the tragedy he’d endured. “I’m so terribly sorry for your loss. It was obvious from that picture you were happy.”
“We were.”
“Is that when you decided to get lost in work? After she died?”
His gaze turned wary. “Why do you say that?”
“I asked Paul if you’d always done special assignments. That it didn’t seem right for such a young man to give himself so wholly to his work. He said you used to work in Tech Ops before moving into the field a few years ago.”
“After I got shot, Theresa wasn’t thrilled that I went back into protection services. So, instead of working on a detail, I took a position in Tech Ops. Once she was … gone, I needed to get out of the office, do something more active.”
“Did you give yourself time to grieve?”
“I thought I had. Then, on the first anniversary of her death, I completely fell apart. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Had to take some time off because I could hardly function.”
“That’s completely normal. I’m glad you finally gave yourself that time. Being busy is all well and good, but it only medicates you. You eventually have to let yourself get through it or you get stuck there.”
“Yeah, I was basically on autopilot for the year after she passed, going through the motions. As long as I was working, I could be alert, involved in life around me. But as soon as I hit the front door, I shut down. It was either that or let the anger eat me up.”
“Anger?”
He gave his head a shake. “I know you have a strong faith, Riley, and at one time, I did too. Or so I believed. But Theresa suffering like she did … dying like she did. So young and way too soon. Praying for a miracle that never came … well, I guess I blamed God. I know our relationship hasn’t ever been the same.
It’s just hard to talk to Him anymore.” He took the last bite of his sandwich and walked his plate over to the sink.
“Do you try?” she asked quietly, not wanting to offend him while at the same time knowing what he needed most was the one thing he’d pushed away. He needed his faith, his God … the hope only Jesus could bring. A lasting hope.
Taking his seat again, he moved his head from side to side.
“Sometimes. But I never get very far. And to be honest, I’m not all that angry anymore.
I guess I’ve moved through the stages and now accept it.
I think I’ve walked so far away from God, though …
put so much time and space between us, I can’t seem to find my way back. ”
“But He hasn’t moved. He’s still right there, right where you left Him. Waiting for you to reach out. He won’t push His will on you, but He is there for you.”
He studied her but said nothing.
“Was Theresa a believer?”
“Yes. Had a strong faith. All the way to the end.”
“So, she’s with her Lord now.”
“Most definitely.” He chuckled. “Probably telling Him to give me a swift kick to the backside.”
She gave him a half-smile, wishing she could help him come back. Help him bridge the abyss he felt existed between himself and the God he once knew. “Why do you still work such obscene hours if you’ve accepted her death? You don’t have much opportunity to form new relationships with your schedule.”
“Because it works for me. I like the intensity of an assignment like this. I’m good at it. And I have no intention of ever getting involved with anyone again, so why date?”
No intention of getting involved with anyone? Ever?
She stared at the quarter sandwich still in front of her, letting his words penetrate. “Why don’t you think you’ll ever be involved with anyone again?”
“Don’t want to be. I had a great wife. A great marriage. I can’t imagine being with someone like that again.”
“You had one successful marriage. There’s no reason to believe you couldn’t have another. The odds are in your favor.”
“I’ve never found myself even remotely curious to find out if I could again.”
She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. “I hope you find someone someday. I really do. You’re a great guy. And you were obviously a good husband. You should get married, have those children you wanted, and live a wonderful life. I’m sure Theresa would want that for you.”
His lips pressed together, and he turned his face away. The fingers of his right hand grasped the base of his left ring finger, as if searching for what was no longer there. How long had it been since he quit wearing his band?
“She told me to find someone.” He cleared his throat. “To have kids. Said she always believed I’d be a great dad. I don’t know about that, but it was nice she thought so.”
Riley picked up her sandwich and took another bite, looking down into her cocoa as her mind spun. Colton had been married. Very happily married. But he’d lost her. All because she couldn’t find a match in time.
How many others lay in hospital beds or at home, praying for a miracle?
She stuffed the rest of her sandwich in her mouth and picked up her cup. “That was good.” She wadded up her napkin and rose from the table. “Thanks for sharing your sandwich with me.”
“Thanks for listening.”
“Anytime. I mean it.”
“Back atcha.” He joined her at the counter, concern written in those azure eyes. “I know what happened at your house had to have rattled you, but hiding away isn’t going to help you get past it. If you need to talk, come find me.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it. And since you already know I don’t like beating around the bush, let me encourage you to listen to your own advice. You may not be hiding out physically, but you are emotionally, spiritually. And that’s not healthy either.”
She put her hand on his arm. “God loves you so much, Colton. I know you don’t understand why things happened as they did, but the world is a broken place. These earthly bodies are temporary, and this world is not our home.”
Dropping her hand, she crossed her arms over her middle.
“Theresa’s living every day whole and healthy with the God she loves.
Growing up the son of a pastor, you probably know a lot of stuff in your head.
But God is all about the heart. And He wants to hear from you.
Just simple words. Tell Him exactly how you feel.
He already knows, but He’s waiting for you to give it over so He can heal it. ”
His gaze never wavered. Lord, open his heart to You. Help him find his way back. Use me any way You see fit to help this amazing man.
“I’m going to head back up. There’s some of Hilda’s cherry pie left over in the fridge and ice cream in the freezer. Help yourself to anything.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” His usually confident voice was little more than a husky whisper. “Thanks, Riley.” He took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “For everything.”
“Any time. You know where I live.”
He chuckled. “That I do. Good night.”
“’Night.”
She walked back through the house, her pace quickening as she neared the stairs. In her study, she sat down at her laptop.
How many others?