Run Fast, My Love, page 16
Dan steered her out of the crowded courtroom, down the corridor, and through the mob waiting outside. Reporters shoved microphones in her face. Shouted questions. With one arm shielding her shoulders, Dan shoved through the crowd and down the cement steps to the car that waited for them at the curb, then helped her inside. She was surprised when her uncle got in on the other side. She hadn’t even been aware that he’d followed them.
“It could have been worse,” her uncle said, trying to reassure. “He could have been convicted of first-degree murder, which would have meant a much longer sentence.”
Taryn knew that, but at the moment it was little consolation. Her brother was still going to prison for a long time.
“Here. Drink some of this.” Dan shoved a container of bottled water into her hand, and she obediently sipped from it. Throughout the ride, she could barely string her thoughts together. The word guilty kept screaming through her head, punctuated by the bangs from the judge’s gavel pounding on wood. Once they arrived at her uncle’s manor, Taryn hurried upstairs to her room. There, she stretched out on the bed and cried. Physically and emotionally exhausted, she slept.
She was surprised to wake up and see the glow of early morning lighten the window shade. She changed into a clean shirt and slacks then headed downstairs. Only an hour remained until they would leave for the courthouse.
Dan sat at the kitchen table by the recessed bay window, cradling a mug of black coffee. He looked up when she entered.
“I shouldn’t have left him like that,” Taryn said in greeting. It had been on her mind since she’d woken up. “I deserted him when he needed me most.”
“No, you didn’t. Before we left for court yesterday, Patrick told me that if he should be found guilty, I was to get you out of there fast.” Dan pulled out the wooden chair beside his as an invitation for her to sit down. “Believe me, he understood. Now grab yourself a plate and let’s get some food into you.”
Taryn eyed the smorgasbord of scrambled eggs, bagels, mini-sausages, and melon balls that covered the center of the table. Her stomach turned. She hadn’t been able to force more than a few spoonfuls of food down yesterday and doubted today would be much different. Yet she needed to eat if she were to endure what would probably be one of the worst days of her life. The day her brother was sent to prison.
“Not now.” She looked away from the food and started to rise from the table. “Maybe later. After court.”
“Taryn, wait. Before we face the public again, you need to know the worst that could happen.” Dan cupped his warm hand over Taryn’s cold one, and she sat back down, nodding for him to continue. “I talked to Patrick’s lawyer last night. The maximum he could get is eleven years, but since this is Patrick’s first time before a judge, that might work in his favor. No one can second-guess a judge, of course, but Mr. Phelps doesn’t think Patrick will get more than eight years with probation.”
It sounded like an eternity. Taryn closed her eyes and took a deep, shaky breath.
“I have to return to the inn, and I want you to come with me. You need a break from all this. You rarely eat anymore, and you look as if you might blow away.”
Taryn nodded, her mind elsewhere.
He squeezed her hand. “It’s not your fault. I know what you’re thinking. I thought the same thing after Gwen died. That if I’d somehow done something differently or forced her to listen to reason, she might still be alive. But Pastor Trent helped me realize that we’re not responsible for others’ choices. You heard him that day at church. We can only love and support and pray for those we care about who are doing the wrong thing. What happened to your family is tragic, but maybe it took the circumstances of that shooting for Patrick to make the choice to turn away from drugs and find God. Maybe, unless he ended up at rock bottom, he would’ve never reached up. We’ll just keep praying for Patrick and trust him to God’s care during his prison term. I like the guy. Maybe he can even come to Colorado for a visit when he gets out.”
Taryn brushed a few tears from her eyes and smiled. “You’re beginning to sound as if you could be a minister, like Pastor Trent.”
“Scratch that thought!” Dan looked stricken. “Unless God hits me over the head with a two-by-four, that’s about the only way I’ll consider preaching.”
Taryn remembered how well he’d instructed her on the slopes, and how kind, gentle, and encouraging he’d been. “I don’t know, I think you would make a great preacher someday.”
Dan took a long swig of coffee. He set the mug down and lifted his eyes. “Have you considered what I asked you weeks ago? About becoming my wife?”
Taryn nodded and searched for words. “I know that I love you, Dan. And one day I do want to marry you and become Paul’s mother, but I can’t think about anything like that right now.” She stroked his hand lying on top of hers. “I need time to heal and sort things out. But if it’s okay, I’d still like to come with you to Pinecrest. It’s so beautiful there; I can’t think of any other place I’d like to stay. I can’t stay here. Not now. California no longer feels like home, and there might always be publicity each time I set foot outside the house. If not the news reporters, then the paparazzi. Especially since I’ll get the full inheritance now.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the backs of her fingers, staring into her eyes all the while. “I promised I wouldn’t rush you into marriage, and I won’t. Of course you must come back with me. With Mary’s great cooking, Gram’s companionship, and Paul’s clowning around, we’ll have you back to your happy self again in no time.”
Taryn considered. “You know, it’s funny. But I wonder if I ever was all that happy. It seems like I’ve been running all my life—either to or from something. When I was a child and a teenager, I ran to seek acceptance but never found it. And after what happened, I ran to your inn because I was afraid. But until I ran into the arms of Jesus—something my mother wrote in one of her letters—I never felt peace. However, since Christmas, in spite of all that’s gone on, I’ve had the strangest calm visit me at times, even when things were at their worst. I can’t explain it. I’m starting to feel it now. With you and God supporting me, I think I’ll be able to handle anything that comes my way.”
Dan stood to his feet, his eyes glistening. “Come here.”
Taryn went into his open arms.
He kissed the top of her head and held her tightly. “Your mother was wise. And her daughter has become just as wise.”
Taryn smiled against Dan’s shirt. “Thank you for being there for me these past weeks. Your strength has helped me so much.”
He kissed her then, a tender kiss without expectation but full of promise. Parting, he took her hand, and they left the kitchen to get ready for their last day in court.
Epilogue
“When’s he gonna be here?” Six-year-old Meagan impatiently peered out the huge picture window, holding her doll at her side so she could see through the frosty glass, too.
That’s what Taryn would like to know. She studied the white swirling flakes then forced herself to move away from the outside view.
Settling on a chair, she pulled Patricia close and adjusted the red velvet bow in her dark hair for the fourth time, then threw a warning look to thirteen-year-old Paul, home from school for the holidays and about to pull the green ribbon from four-year-old Becca’s hair. The boy, now growing into a man, grinned back and raised his hands in innocence, the loveable quirk of mischief still a part of him. Since he started attending a private school for gifted children three years ago, Taryn had witnessed huge leaps in his emotional growth and a fresh self-confidence.
“Settle down, Taryn,” Gram said from her wheelchair by the Christmas tree. “Dan knows these roads better than anybody. He’ll be here soon.”
Paul, all arms and legs and almost six feet tall, hoisted three-year-old Lindsey high into the air. The girl squealed with delight. “Look, Mommy—I’m fwying!” She snatched a candy cane from the top branches of the tree. “I’m an angel! Can I be an angel?”
Paul chuckled. “It’s fun to pretend isn’t it, Lindsey?” he said, his voice deeper than Taryn remembered it as he settled the girl against his hip. “But I’d rather you just stay my sister. That’s who God made you to be. But anytime you want to pretend, I’ll play with you. I used to do a lot of pretending when I was a kid.”
Taryn hid a grin. Teenagers.
“Okay.” Lindsey licked the top of her candy cane. “Will you read to me, Pauw?”
“Sure. But later, after Dad gets home.”
Harry Bowers shuffled behind Paul and slapped him on the back. “Just as long as you don’t teach her any of your pranks, young man,” he joked, and Paul’s face reddened.
Since Harry had married Gram five years ago and joined the family, much of his gruffness disappeared, though he still had his moments. Stranger still, he and Paul had become fast friends, and they often played chess or cards together. Paul always won, but Harry didn’t seem to mind.
The crunch of tires rolling over snow made Taryn’s heart jump.
“They’re here!” Meagan scrambled to the door, trying to turn the bolt.
Taryn was right behind her. “Here, honey, let me.” Her hands were trembling, and she almost couldn’t work the latch. Impatiently she flung open the door.
Snow flecked the blue stocking cap and padded coat of the man who approached the stoop. His blue-green eyes sparkled.
“Patrick!” she cried and threw her arms around him.
Tears sprang to her eyes as she held her brother at last. Seven long years her twin had been incarcerated, but now he was finally free. Taryn hugged him tightly, letting her emotions soak his coat.
“Shh, Taryn, it’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s all okay now.”
“I know,” she said and released her death-hold on him. She surveyed his face. “You’re thinner than when I visited you last, but you don’t look half bad. Actually you look really good.” She kissed his bristly cheek.
“I can definitely say the same.”
“Are you my uncle Patrick?” Patricia asked shyly.
Patrick hunkered down to his namesake’s level. “I sure am. And who might you be?”
She giggled. “I’m Patricia and I’m almost six. Daddy said while you’re here you can go with me to ski on the bunny slopes. Wanna come? We go skiing all the time.”
“I can ski, too,” Meagan threw in.
“Wow, that sounds really neat. Maybe I’ll have to give it a try.”
“I can teach you,” Patricia said, taking Patrick’s hand and leading him to the family parlor. “It’s lots of fun. We even get to play follow the leader and other games.”
Meagan grabbed his other hand. “We already had Christmas, and I got this doll. Isn’t she pretty? Mommy says we’re going to have another Christmas, though, now that you’re here. Even if it is January.”
“Are you Mommy’s twin?” Becca asked shyly as she moved into the lobby and stopped in front of him. “You don’t look alike.”
“Boy and girl twins are different,” Patrick explained. “You must be Becca. Your mommy said you had hair the color of sweet pumpkin pie—like hers used to be when she was your age.”
Becca giggled, her hand over her mouth.
Taryn followed the foursome into the family parlor and watched her little girls flock around Patrick, exhibiting not an ounce of shyness. But that wasn’t a surprise since Taryn had been talking about her brother every day for the past few months. Gram and Harry greeted Patrick warmly and smiled. Paul edged close and chuckled when Patrick told a corny joke. Taryn felt Dan’s arms slip around her from behind.
“He looks good,” Dan whispered near her ear.
“Better than I expected,” Taryn agreed, bringing her hand to his arm. She turned her head to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Thank you for braving a snowstorm to collect him at the airport. I was so worried when the weather got bad not ten minutes after you left.”
“I was late getting there, but it’s a good thing his plane was early. Any later and it might not have been able to land. This looks like some winter storm we’re getting.”
Taryn leaned her head back against the crook of his shoulder. “Thank God we’re all together now, safe and warm.”
Basking in her husband’s embrace, Taryn watched her family. Patrick was playing Mr. Tickle with Lindsey, who laughed and tried to dodge his wiggling fingers. The other three girls demanded their turn, and Paul took up the game, trying to tickle Becca, Meagan, and Patricia as they each took challenging steps his way, then darted back in retreat. Harry and Gram toasted each other with crystal cups of eggnog, their expressions tender as they gazed at one another.
Hearing the peals of children’s laughter, seeing the warm smiles, knowing that God had blessed them so, Taryn felt another emotional wave hit her. She turned in her husband’s arms.
“I love you so much, Dan. This is the best Christmas ever. Thank you for making it possible.”
He smiled then lowered his mouth to meet hers in a kiss as warm and reassuring as a cozy fire. A place from which she never wanted to run.
Home.
About the Author
Pamela Griffin lives in Texas and divides her time among family, church activities, and writing. She fully gave her life to the Lord in 1988 after a rebellious young adulthood and owes the fact that she’s still alive today to an allloving and forgiving God and a mother who prayed that her wayward daughter would come “home.” Pamela’s main goal in writing Christian romance is to encourage others through entertaining stories that also heal the wounded spirit. Please visit Pamela at: http://users.waymark.net/words_of_honey
Dedication
Many thanks to all those wonderful people who helped me critique this book, and to those who gave of their valuable time by helping me with all the crime/legal issues and questions I had—especially to Larry Bullman, the Honorable Timothy Murphy, and public defender Anthony Odiorne—I give a special thank you.
As always, this book is dedicated to my Lord Jesus Christ, who, when I ran scared for a terrifying season, caught me in His loving embrace.
A note from the Author:
I love to hear from my readers! You may correspond with me by writing:
Pamela Griffin
Author Relations
PO Box 719
Uhrichsville, OH 44683
Pamela Griffin, Run Fast, My Love
