Authors: Ruth Logan Herne
She stared at the aging building.
It needed help, and Laura had no money. The whole place could use a good makeover, but Tina understood the downward dip of midwinter business. Laura was worried that she wouldn't be able to hang on until the busier spring season, and Tina agreed. It took a busy spring, summer and fall to make up for long, cold winters.
What if you combine forces?
The thought scared and elated her.
Would Laura think she was nuts? Would she even entertain such an idea?
Tina puffed out a breath. It frosted instantly, a tiny cloud of white, drifting upward.
May our prayers rise up like incense before You...
The frozen breath reminded her of that sweet, old prayer. Could she make this step forward? Should she?
God did not give us the spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.
Timothy's verse hit home. Yes, she had a tendency to charge forward. Act first, regret later.
But this? Approaching her aunt about a partnership? This could be the full circle she'd yearned for. Faith. Family. Forgiveness.
She threaded her way through the park displays and headed toward the restaurant. It would be quiet now, a good time to catch Laura. She walked in, ready to present her idea, and found Laura in tears.
“What is it? What's wrong?” Tina crossed the few feet quickly. Laura snatched up the restaurant phone in one hand and shoved a piece of paper at Tina with the other. While she dialed 9-1-1, Tina scanned the brief note.
Mom, I've thought about this a lot and I know you'd be better off without me. I'm not a good person, not anymore. I'm sorry, Mom. So sorry. I love you, and I'll miss you, but this is the only choice I have left. I've been trying to get better, but nothing's working. Please forgive me, okay?
â
Ryan.
The chill of Ryan's words froze Tina's heart. She didn't wait to hear more.
There was only one person she knew who could figure out how to get to her young cousin and save him. And that was Max Campbell.
* * *
“Max!”
The desperation in Tina's voice brought Max running from the front of the hardware store. “What's happened? What's wrong? Is it Dad?”
She shook her head, eyes wet, a scrap of paper clutched in her left hand. “It's Ryan. He's going to kill himself, Max.”
Mixed emotions climbed Max's spine. He scanned the paper, grabbed Tina's hand and raced across Main Street to the restaurant.
One look at Laura's face said she believed her son was capable of keeping his promise. “Laura, do you know where he might be?”
She shook her head.
“Has anyone checked the house?”
Again she shook her head, her voice struggling for words. “I was just there. I left Carly here to make salads for tonightâ” she nodded toward the afternoon waitress “âand ran home for a few things. When I got back here, I found the note.”
“You didn't see him, Carly?”
The middle-aged woman shook her head. “Not a peep. I'm sorry, maybe if I'd seen himâ”
He'd gotten a forty-minute start. Where could a kid go in forty minutes? A kid who didn't drive?
Max's phone rang. He started to ignore it, but then he saw Luke's number. He answered quickly, staring at Laura while his brother spoke, then nodded, grim. “We'll be right there.”
Fear claimed Laura's features. She reached forward and grasped his hands. “It's Ryan, isn't it? What's happened?”
“He's on the interstate bridge, threatening to jump, but Luke says he's hanging on for dear life and that's a good sign. Let's go.”
They piled into Max's car. He drove quickly, following the curve of Lower Lake Road. The bridge came into sight once they rounded the point at Warrenton. A full contingent of lighted rescue vehicles said first responders were on-scene in full crisis mode.
“Max. Laura. Tina. Good.” Zach Harrison moved forward, his expression taut. “He's scared, he's shaking and I think he's getting tired, which means his grip could slip.”
“Let me talk to him,” Laura insisted. “I think I canâ”
“He wants you.” Zach looked beyond Laura to Tina. “He says he needs to talk to his cousin Tina.”
“Me?” The idea that Ryan wanted to talk to her during his crisis seemed ludicrous. The kid hated her. “Zach, Iâ”
“Tina. Please.” Laura turned her way. “If he wants to talk to you, then please...”
“Butâ” Tina looked at Max. He met her gaze and shifted his to Ryan, standing on the bridge's narrow edge.
Max wanted her to do it. And she trusted him to understand a crisis situation. Crises were his forte, weren't they?
God, don't let me mess this up. I don't know what to do or what to say, and I don't even know this boy. Help me. Please. Give me words.
She started forward, then a flash of inspiration hit. She turned back. “I need you two with me.”
Max's wince said that might not be a good idea, but Tina stood still, adamant. “Laura is his mother, and Max, no one is better skilled at emergency situations than you. Please.”
The trooper commander hesitated, then nodded his okay.
Max moved to Tina's right. Laura flanked her on the left. Quietly, the three of them moved forward.
Strong emotion twisted the boy's face when he saw them. He stared at his mother, then at Tina, and began to cry.
Laura's face crumpled.
Max was just about to call a retreat when Tina took a seat on the cold, hard bridge. “I'm here, Ryan. Ready to talk. But it's wicked cold, there's sleet in the forecast, and I'm scared that you can't hang on much longer, so do me a huge favor, okay? Climb back to this side. Have a seat. And we'll talk about whatever is going on, but I need you to be safely on this side of the bridge or I honestly won't have a clue what's being said, because I'll be worried to death about losing my only cousin. I have two relatives left, kid. You and your mother. I'd like to grow old with both of you, if you don't mind.”
His eyes widened as her words registered.
He stared at her, then his mother, then Max.
Max appraised the situation. He wasn't close enough to make a grab for Ryan, and Tina's action would spawn some sort of reaction. But would it be the reaction they wanted? Needed?
God, I know You're there, I know You're with us, and right now, I could use some of that spiritual common sense I'm usually so proud of. Because here, at this moment, with the approaching storm pumping up waves on the lake?
I'm scared.
Ryan gulped. His fingers moved. He studied each hand, contemplating his choices. Moving slowly, Max and Laura lowered themselves to the ice-cold bridge deck and faced him, waiting.
“It's your turn.” Tina met the boy's gaze and didn't mince words. “Climb on over here and let's talk. Are you okay to climb back over, Ryan? Because if your hands are cold and you need help, we'll help you.”
Max decided then and there that if he ever had a need for a negotiating team in his future, Tina would be on it. Her eyes, affect and tone stayed calm and neutral, offering the kid the lifeline he needed.
Ryan stared at her, gripped the rail tighter, then pushed up. One leg came over. At the top of the rail, he faltered, and for a long series of seconds, he looked like he might fall, but then he pushed down hard against the railing and brought his second foot up and over.
Max's heart soared.
This tiny leap of faith said Ryan didn't really want to die. What did the boy want?
Max had no idea.
“Thank you.” Tina nodded toward the bridge deck. “It's cold, but it's the best I've got, kid. So what's going on? What's got you this upset that you're thinking about throwing away God's most precious gift? Because frankly, Ryan, that would break my heart.”
“You.”
Tina's steadfast expression faltered, but not for long. “Because I've been helping your mom?”
He stared at her. Guilt and anguish fought for his features as he faced Tina straight on. Max looked from him to Tina and back, then spoke softly. “Did you burn Tina's café down, Ryan?”
Ryan's face shadowed deeper. Tears streamed down his cheeks. His mouth crumpled and his jaw went slack. “I was with the guys who did it.” He leaned forward after the admission, crying, his narrow back shaking with cold and remorse. “I didn't mean for them to burn it down, I thought they were just messing around. I knew Mom was running out of money and I thoughtâ” He choked back a sob, then swiped a damp glove across his face. “I thought everything that happened was Tina's fault.”
“Oh, Ryan.” Laura's face reflected Ryan's anguish. “Honey, Iâ”
“Don't tell me it's okay.” Ryan's voice rasped harshly. “I could have done something. I could have called the fire department, I could have tried to put it out, I could have...” He drew a deep breath and sighed, then shifted his attention back to the water. “Done something. But I didn't. I ran home, went to bed and acted surprised the next day. And then Tina turns out to be a real nice person and I ruined her life.”
Tina started to speak, but Max held up a hand. “May I?”
She nodded. “Please.”
He faced Ryan more fully. “My best friend died when I was eighteen.”
Ryan met his eyes, listening.
“I was with him that afternoon. He'd been drinking. Acting stupid. I knew he was drunk, I knew his girlfriend had been drinking and I was mad that they were being so foolish. I got disgusted and left.” He hauled in a breath and shrugged. “It made me so mad that years of friendship were being washed away by a bottle of vodka, and I stormed off. I could have called his mother. I could have told his father.” He shook his head. “I didn't. I went home, went to bed and the next morning I found out my buddy Pete and his girlfriend had been killed in a boating accident while I was sleeping. For nearly fifteen years I've carried that weight with me, Ryan. Wishing I'd called someone, alerted someone. Wishing I'd made better choices, but you know what?”
Ryan kept his eyes locked on Max. “What?”
“Here's the amazing thing about life. We generally get a second chance. And if we make the most of that opportunity and learn from it, we can turn the bad into good. Butâ” he directed a look toward the roiling water slapping against the cold, gray bridge “ânot if we're dead, kid. Yeah, you shouldn't have spouted off about Tina, and you could have made better choices along the way, but when I went to see Pete's parents they reminded me of something. They said kids make mistakes because they're kids and that God understands kids better than anyone else. He knows they're a work in progress.”
* * *
Reality broadsided Tina as she listened to Max's story.
Ryan and his gang had burned down her café. He and his buddies deliberately set a fire to destroy her business in an attempt to destroy her, to make her leave Kirkwood Lake.
Anger and regret vied for attention. Her hands clenched, envisioning the group of miscreants, torching ten years of hard work and dedication.
But Ryan's look of abject sorrow pushed her beyond outright anger.
He'd lived in a house surrounded by mistruths and slander. He'd been raised to think she was the enemy. And in a way, an in-your-face move like putting her coffee shop in the shadow of The Pelican's Nest made her the enemy.
She reached out a hand to Ryan.
He stared at it, then her.
“Ryan, we can't change the past. But together?” She swept his mother a look then returned her attention to Ryan. “We can run a wonderful business. But a family business should be run by family, kid. And more than anything else, once we get things squared away, I want you in. You. Me. Your mother, running the restaurant the way it should be run. What do you think?”
Laura held her breath while Max watched quietly. Ryan stared at Tina, then his mother. Disbelief shadowed his face, but then he started to creep forward, the cold, slippery bridge and his chilled limbs fighting the action. He made it over to them, and then clasped Tina's hand, tears still streaming down his young cheeks. “I think yes.”
She clutched his hand, then pulled him in for a hug that Laura shared.
Max cleared his throat. “Why don't we head back? It's cold out here, and we've got a lot of good people who probably want to go home. Or at least climb back into their warm cruisers.”
“You're smarter than you look, Max.” Zach smiled at Max as he and Luke approached them. He led Laura and Ryan to a waiting ambulance that took Ryan to Clearwater Hospital for a mental health evaluation.
Tina and Max followed in Max's car.
Deep compassion for Max filled Tina, heart and soul.
Ryan's jaw had softened as he listened to Max's story. Max's confession had turned the boy's expression from grief-stricken to almost hopeful.
She looked at Max, really looked at him, and realized she'd judged him unfairly for years.
He'd shouldered unnecessary guilt a long time. How tough it must have been, living beneath a self-imposed cloud, wearing a mantle of blame. No wonder he avoided the Sawyers and stayed away.
Coming back must have been torturous, but Max did it because he knew his parents needed him. Their need trumped his badly placed guilt.
Her heart stretched wider, watching him.
She'd misjudged him. She'd taken what she saw as a kid and mushroomed it into undeserved resentment. And in spite of that he'd been nothing but kind to her. Gracious. Caring.
Loving?
Regret speared her because she'd cut him down pretty thoroughly since he returned from his final mission. And a man like Max, brave, daring, charismatic and caring, deserved someone who didn't make rash assumptions. Someone who could stand up to the test of time, not turn tail and run.
Seeing him here, in action, baring his heart to save a young man's life, she felt pretty undeserving of the brave and true soldier to her right.