Chapter 8 Garrison
Garrison
One Month Later
“How does that look?” Kyle asks as he steps back and studies the bookshelf we just finished putting up in the church library.
“It looks good, kid.” I clasp a hand on his shoulder, enjoying the absolute delight on his face when he grins at me. It’s only been a month since his world fell apart when he took that knife to school, but the light is back in his eyes. The smile is back on his face.
“You do great work, Kyle,” Pastor Reeves tells him. “Everyone is going to be thrilled to have more space for additional books. Though based on those boxes, we may be calling you for another one here soon.”
We glance over at the four medium-sized moving boxes overflowing with books ready to be put in their new home.
“I would love to build you another one. And I can put those books up on the shelves if you’d like,” Kyle offers.
“That would be great, thank you.”
With a happy smile, Kyle sets the drill aside and crosses the room to grab books. Pastor Reeves nods toward the door, so I follow him out into the hall, just out of earshot of Kyle.
“He seems to be doing well,” he comments.
“The first week was rough, but once I realized how much he enjoyed building stuff, he really opened up. We paid him to help repair the fence at the community center and then he fixed a chair over at the diner.”
“The kid is gifted, that’s for sure.”
“He is,” I agree. Aside from some basic help here and there, I purposely took a backseat.
And not just because physically I’m still not quite where I need to be.
He needed to feel accomplished. Especially since he was expelled from school where he was already sporting failing grades in every subject.
Grades that, according to the charter school that he’s been meeting with three times a week, are actually climbing. Kid is coming back, and I’m so blessed to have a front row seat to it.
“How are you doing?”
I turn my attention to Pastor Reeves, surprised to see him watching me, a curious expression on his face. “I’m feeling better each day. There’s still some pain.” I leave out the nightmares. The mornings I wake drenched in sweat because I’m thrown back into the puddle of blood. Broken and dying.
Of all the situations I’ve been in, I’ve never felt so completely helpless as I was watching masked men drag Tessa away from me. I’d failed her, and I’d failed one of my best friends.
It doesn’t help that Katelyn has been avoiding me. I haven’t even been able to ask her why since, the few times I’ve run into her, she’s been either rushing into her apartment or working at either the diner or coffee shop.
I’m not sure what changed, but she doesn’t seem to want anything to do with me now, and I’m not one to press. Even though I crave conversations with her like a man in a desert craves water.
“I’m glad to hear it. Have you heard from Zane and Tessa?”
“Last I talked to them, they were spending some time in Greece. He said they’d be back by the fall.”
“I think it’s so great that they’ve come back together after all that time apart.” He crosses his arms. “God works in such wonderful ways.”
“That, He does,” I agree and shift my attention toward the open patio doors overlooking the coastline. As I’m watching the waves, a woman wearing a maroon sweatshirt walks by.
My heart recognizes her before my mind registers that it’s Katelyn standing beneath the bright sunshine.
“Can you keep an eye on him for a minute for me?”
Pastor Reeves follows my eyeline and laughs softly. “Absolutely. Go. We’ll keep working on the books.” He clasps me on the shoulder and heads back into the library, so I walk out onto the patio and take the stairs down to the beach as quickly as I can without looking too desperate.
“Katelyn!” I call out.
She turns toward me, and the sunlight catches strands of copper in her blonde hair. Her gaze is bright when she sees me, but that momentary joy is hidden beneath a mask she slips into place.
No matter what training I’ve had, what experience I’ve gained over the last few years, I can’t seem to break through the walls she’s placed around herself. I had a little glimpse that night last month in my kitchen, and now I’m desperate for more.
“You look like you’re feeling better,” she says when I reach her. Her cheeks flush with color. “I mean, you just look like you’re moving easier.”
I grin, unable to hide my own happiness that she seems to be at least a little attracted to me, since I’m so drawn to her. At least it’s not just me. “I am. You look good, too.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes as she turns back toward the water. “I like coming out here sometimes. I had a break between shifts, so I wanted to get some fresh air.”
“How are things? I haven’t really seen you around.”
“I’ve been busy. From what I’ve heard from Thomas, so are you. How is Kyle doing?”
“Really well.” I point toward the church. “He just finished a bookshelf for the church, and he’s gotten his grades up at the charter school he’s doing now.”
“That’s so good.” She looks genuinely pleased. “His sister?”
“The medication they have her on seems to be working really well. She’s been seizure-free for three weeks.”
She looks genuinely relieved despite not having a close relationship with the Harding family. It’s just another reason I’m drawn to her. She cares. Deeply. About everyone. Not a quality you find in a lot of people these days. “I’m happy to hear that.”
I shove both hands into my pockets. “How’s Thomas?”
“Good. Ready for baseball camp. He’s counting down the days.
“And you?”
“Less excited that he’ll be spending his spring break away from me, but I’m excited for him. I know he can’t wait.”
“Well, if you get bored while he’s gone and want to hang out, we can do dinner or something. I do owe you a lasagna, remember?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I mentally kick myself for choosing that particular verbiage to ask her out to dinner.
“I’ll let you know. I’ll probably be busy with work, though.”
Ouch. “Sure.” I run a hand over the back of my hair. Just ask. “Listen, did I do something?”
“What?” She turns toward me.
“To offend you. It’s just, you’ve been kind of distant.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I saw you around a lot, and now it’s—”
“We lived next door to each other for months before we officially met. I’m just busy. You didn’t do anything.” She flashes me a guarded smile. As she starts to turn back toward the water, she freezes, her face paling.
I turn, trying to see what she’s looking at.
A man dressed in black pants and a black sweatshirt is running toward us on the beach. He’s too far away for me to recognize, but her body is stiff, her eyes wide as she watches him closely.
I move in closer, my system going on alert in response to her reaction.
“Katelyn, what is it?”
She doesn’t answer as he grows closer, but her body language says it all—she’s afraid. Her breathing is rapid, her hands trembling at her sides.
When the man gets closer, I realize it’s Drew, one of the mechanics at Sawyer’s shop. He offers us both a friendly smile and runs past us without so much as breaking stride. I don’t know him well, but he seems like a good man. Married with two kids.
So why does she look at him like he’s an unwanted shadow darkening her door?
I turn back to Katelyn. “Are you okay? Do you know him?”
She shakes her head. “No. I thought—sorry. I, uh, I need to go. I have work.” She forces a smile and turns away without waiting for my response.
Torn between my desire to rush after her and make sure she’s okay and the understanding that sometimes people just need space, I remain rooted in my spot, watching her retreat until she’s no longer in my line of sight.
It’s only when I can’t see her anymore that I trek back toward the church. Even though my thoughts are still on the beach.
“How are things working out with Katelyn?” I ask Anastasia as soon as I take my seat at the table in Linda’s kitchen. The entire duplex smells absolutely delicious, thanks to the roast Linda prepared for dinner tonight.
“She’s great. Super hard worker and really sweet. Why?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Interested? I think she’s single.”
“Pepper spray is the first step of true love, I’ve heard,” Sawyer adds, his tone dry.
Anastasia’s boyfriend, Jack, laughs, which wipes the smile off of Sawyer’s face. Over the past few weeks, he’s made more of an effort to be here on weekends, and while I can honestly say I like the guy, Sawyer hasn’t even tried to hide his disdain for the FBI agent.
Still, he’s good to Anastasia, and she seems happy whenever he’s around. So, until there’s a reason not to, I remain neutral when it comes to Sawyer’s issues with him. Especially since we both know he only dislikes the guy because of his own feelings for the woman sitting between them.
“Do you like her? Katelyn is a sweetheart!” Linda exclaims after taking a drink of water.
“I was just curious. I haven’t really seen her around lately, so I wanted to know if things were working out. That’s all.” To avoid any further questioning, I shove a bite of Linda’s delicious roast into my mouth.
“Yeah. Okay.” Anastasia grins at me.
“How are things going with Kyle?” Ryker questions. He’s been relatively quiet over dinner, as has Weston. Though that’s not unusual for either of them. Especially since, more times than not, Weston is in a surly mood.
I finish chewing and swallow, then wash the bite down with some water. “He’s a great kid. Just needed some direction.”
“As long as you’re not leaving your keys anywhere around,” Weston growls.
“He was just trying to get help for his family,” I defend.
“By getting my friend gutted? Nah. He’ll need a better excuse than that,” Weston says. “A poor choice is a poor choice despite one’s reasoning.”