messed up because he made the wrong choices. Someday Ty and Jack would laugh, push past the strained relationship they now shared.
“I’m sorry if it’s painful—”
Ty shook his head.
“Gail had a very successful career in real estate. She left it to work in this community as an outreach worker because she felt that God had blessed her so much she had to share, to make a difference in the world. And for several years she did.”
“I see.”
Ty breathed deeply, forced his shoulders to relax and his fingers to unclench.
“The Haven was Gail’s last dream. I made myself a promise that I’d see my sister’s final project through to completion.”
Silence stretched between them for several moments. Ty felt Cassidy’s gray gaze studying him but he kept his head down, his focus on the floor, because he didn’t want her to see how much that promise was costing him.
Nobody knew of his long nights lying awake, trying to recall if he’d dotted all the i’s, crossed all the t’s, missed any detail that would jeopardize the project. That’s why he didn’t go to bed till long after midnight. That’s why he’d been up at four this morning.
Well, one reason why.
He spent precious hours deliberating over every decision, desperate to avoid the mistake that would spoil Gail’s dream. But even when he finally made a choice, Ty could never be sure it was the right one. That and the constant nightmares were just a small part of the legacy post-traumatic stress disorder had bequeathed him—chronic worry and uncertainty. PTSD was the primary reason he’d left the military, left counseling to someone else, someone who wasn’t dragging about his baggage.
Eventually he hoped to ease back into practice in his own way, on his own terms. Elizabeth had been great with her advice and support, her foundation equally generous, but even she didn’t know exactly how much he had at stake. Whether he could recover, whether he could listen and help someone else—what he discovered here would decide whether he ever practiced again.
For now Ty would see the Haven through to completion—errors and all.
What happened after that—Ty didn’t want to think about it right now.
“May I say something?”
He’d almost forgotten she was there. Cassidy waited until he lifted his head and looked at her.
“I am not trying to usurp your authority, Ty. I don’t want to get in your way, change your decisions or mess with your plans. That is not my intent.” She stood straight and tall, unflinching in her vivid sweater and frayed but fitted jeans. “I am here to help for six months. I owe that to Elizabeth because six years ago she gave me back my life. But at the end of my six months I’ll go my own way, get on with my own plans.”
“Okay.” Gave her back her life? There was more to that story, but Cassidy didn’t look inclined to explain at the moment.
Ty’s curiosity grew. That was the second time she had emphasized that she was here for six months. Had she repeated it for his benefit, or for her own?
“Until then, please know that I’ll do my very best to help you make the Haven succeed.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your commitment.”
“I am committed. From now on I promise not to spring any further surprises on you. I’m sure you’re juggling a thousand things already. You don’t need me adding to your stress.” She offered a tentative smile. “All right?”
Ty shook his head.
“Not all right at all. Please don’t apologize for helping. This whole misunderstanding was my fault. For now, let’s agree that we will cooperate to make things go smoothly. The Haven is our common goal. Okay?”
“Very okay.” She glanced around the room. Suddenly her eyes opened wide. She gasped. “Oh, how silly. I forgot.”
“Forgot who?”
“Not who, what.”
Ty followed her pointing finger and saw two brown paper cups sitting on the table by the door she’d entered. Next to them she’d left a white bag with his favorite bakery’s red logo printed across it.
“Those.” She handed him a cup. “I hope it’s not cold yet.”
“You’ve been back in Chicago what—five days? And you’ve already found Sugar’s?” Ty sniffed the aromatic wisps emanating from the tiny opening in the lid. “Costa Rican. Double dark, twice ground with real cream.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “I take it you’re familiar with that brew.”
“You could say that.” He closed his eyes, inhaled and sighed. “This is going to be a very good day.”
“I should have given you the coffee first.”
The way she said it made him study her. A tiny smile kicked up the corner of her pretty mouth; her eyes sparkled as if enjoying a private joke.
“Because?”
“We could have avoided a lot of misunderstanding if I’d known one cup would mellow you out for the whole day.”
“Okay, probably not the whole day,” Ty admitted. “But it’s a very good start. Thank you.” He sipped the drink and allowed himself a moment to savor it. A crackling bag drew him back to the reality of the Haven’s less than immaculate kitchen.
“I suppose you’re not into apple Danish?” She held out one of his favorite delicacies. When he didn’t immediately take it, she shrugged. “That’s okay. I’m starved. I bought four thinking I’d have one for breakfast, one for lunch and share the other two. Guess I’ll keep some for tomorrow.”
“I don’t see any need for you to suffer like that.” Ty plucked the golden pastry from her fingertips. “I’m happy to help out.” He bit into it quickly, so she couldn’t snatch it back, then faked wide-eyed innocence. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I eating yours?”
Ty’s mouth watered. He’d missed breakfast, and dinner the night before was a faint memory of peanut butter and dill pickles. Jack’s favorite. They made a decent sandwich if you were starving, but only just.
“You don’t look very sorry.”
“I truly am.” He held the uneaten portion toward her assuming his saddest look.
“Nice gesture.” She took a tiny bite, laughed at him. “You don’t do pathetic well, you do know that?”
Ty gave it a second effort but she merely shook her head.
“Forget it. I prefer apricots, anyway.”
“You have apricot Danish, too? That’s another favorite of mine.” He enjoyed watching laughter change her face. “Yours has more icing.”
“Tough.” She took another bite, displaying not the least hint of regret.
“As your boss, I feel compelled to say—”
“Thank you, Cassidy. You’ve saved my life. Again.” She tilted her head sideways in a sassy fashion. “That was what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”
“Sort of.”
“There’s a guy outside—hey, nobody said anything about food. I love Danish.” Mac glanced back and forth between the two of them like a puppy who doesn’t know which benefactor to attack first.
“That must be Davis.” Cassidy dabbed her lips with a napkin and held out the bag. “We meet again, Mac. Help yourself. There’s plenty.” She grabbed her coat.
“Maybe you should wait to sample the goodies till later, Mac.” Ty eyed the pastry bag, licked his lips. “At least until we see what Cassidy’s friends have brought us.”