Season of Redemption. Jenna Mindel
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figured that he’d probably never talked about how the death of his fiancée had affected him. How if affected him still. Bottling up that much emotion was bound to one day pop his cork. Was it any wonder he’d sought something to numb the pain?
Silence stretched inside his truck emphasizing the whish-whish from the windshield wipers and the gentle hum of the heater. Kellie noticed that they had pulled on to their road. They were coming up to what should be his mailbox, but one of the numbers was missing. She’d already checked.
As if reading her mind, Ryan pointed in confirmation. “I live right there. I go through town every day on my way to work, so I can give you a ride tomorrow if you need it.”
“Thanks, but—”
He raised a hand. “I know, I know. Conflict of interest.”
“Ethics.” She smiled. “Accepting another ride from you is a definite conflict of ethics.”
Ryan shook his head. “That’s stupid. I suppose lying sprawled on the side of the road after you’d been clipped by a driver who couldn’t see you is more noble.”
He had a point. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, you are.”
He pulled into her driveway and stopped along a row of trees. Putting the vehicle in Park and shutting off the noisy wipers, Ryan turned toward her with a grim face. “Look, I don’t want to feel the way I do.”
Listening to the sound of rain dancing along the roof of Ryan’s truck, Kellie held back from asking the obvious question of how he felt. She had a pretty good idea but had no business trying to counsel this guy through his issues. They tread dangerous ground as it was considering the intimate setting inside his warm truck.
She glanced at the mug of hot chocolate she’d been drinking, and the temptation to do something for him tugged at her. She looked him square in the eye. “Give group an honest effort. You’ll be surprised.”
“I don’t deserve this.”
Kellie’s hackles rose. That was a typical reaction from a person in denial. How many times had she heard someone say they didn’t deserve court-ordered treatment because it was someone else’s fault for the pickle they found themselves in? Disappointment swamped her. She’d thought maybe Ryan was different. Guess not.
She let loose a sigh. “No one forced you to go to that party.”
His gaze bore into hers, dark and angry. “I don’t deserve to be surprised, okay? Or happy.”
Kellie blinked. Talk about self-punishment. Ryan had beaten himself up long enough and he needed more than her playing counselor right now. They shared the same faith and yet a pat word of encouragement would never be enough. Ryan needed truth spoken into his life, but even more so, the guy needed peace. She couldn’t give him that. Only God could.
Searching her heart for the right words, she came up with the obvious. Or maybe God did. “No one deserves the gift of salvation, but Jesus died for us anyway so we’d have the right path to forgiveness.”
Ryan turned and stared out of the windshield, past the rivulets of rain running down the glass, past even the driveway that led to a yard spanning the short distance to the lake. Lake Leelanau was shrouded in mist.
Kellie didn’t know what he saw, but she’d guess that he revisited his fiancée’s accident frequently. Her heart twisted.
Gently, she touched his arm. “Group might be the path you need to take in order to forgive yourself.”
His hand covered hers. “I’ll try.”
“Good.” Kellie gave his arm a quick squeeze and noticed the mass of hard strength below layers of jacket and shirt.
Time to leave.
She made a move toward the door but Ryan held fast to her hand, stalling her. “You’re easy to talk to, did you know that?”
Considering the line of work she’d chosen, she hoped so. Considering the nice warm feel of Ryan’s hand on her own, she needed to get out of there fast.
“Thanks.” She pulled free and opened the passenger side door. A blast of damp cold air was exactly what she needed.
“Thanks for the ride and the hot chocolate. I can get my bike from here.”
The last part fell on deaf ears. Ryan was already out of his vehicle. He hopped up into the long bed of his truck as if the high height were nothing and handed down her bike.
Kellie took it, careful not to look into the trap of his eyes. “Thanks again.”
“See you around, Kellie.”
She waved, still not looking at him. She hoped she didn’t see Ryan around. In fact, she’d be much safer if she never saw him again.
* * *
The following week, while sitting in group listening to others share some frighteningly personal stuff, Ryan remembered his promise to Kellie. He’d try. He’d even prayed for patience through this whole group therapy thing. Bottom line, he couldn’t go on like he had. Isolated in his grief, he needed something more than beer to get through the empty nights.
He’d started his required community service hours working on the house for a single mom in Sinclair’s church. It helped. Now that he’d finished renovating his own place, he didn’t like being home alone with little left to do and nothing but empty time on his hands. Time to think too much. Time to miss Sara.
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Running his hands through his hair, he nearly groaned. He was tired of being alone.
“Ryan? You okay?” John Thompson directed the group’s attention toward him after a silent pause between clients.
“Yeah.” It came out gravelly and raw.
That was so not true. He felt like he was breaking into pieces. Pieces he couldn’t glue back together. His stomach tightened and he suddenly felt like he might pass out. Sweat beaded across his forehead as his heart raced with the prompting to be honest. Come clean and be honest.
“No, I’m not.”
“You want to talk about it.” John leaned back in his chair, clipboard in hand, ready to take notes.
Ryan’s throat threatened to close up on him. “Not really.”
“We can wait. Take your time.”
Fighting against the quaking going on inside of him only made it worse. His eyes filled with tears, but he vowed he’d choke before he cried. “I—ah...”
He felt a hand briefly touch his shoulder. The woman with the tattoos. Jess was her name, and he’d been blown away by the harsh story of her life. Humbled.
If she could do this, so could he. “I need help.”
* * *
Kellie left the elementary school where she worked part-time as a teacher’s aide in her niece’s class. She slipped behind the wheel of her recently repaired but ancient car and smiled when it started right up.
The repair bill was not as steep as she expected. That had been a huge blessing. Someday, she’d buy a new car. If she got the school counselor job in Traverse City it might even be sooner than someday.
It took less than ten minutes to reach LightHouse Center across town. She’d left a book in her office that she needed to study for her looming certification test.
Kellie pulled into the parking lot and her stomach dropped like a stone thrown in water when she spotted Ryan’s pickup. She’d forgotten that he had group on Tuesdays. One of the two days that Kellie did not intern.
She checked her watch. They might not be done for a bit yet, so the coast was clear if she moved quickly. If she grabbed her book and ran.
Slipping