Jenna Mindel - Season of Redemption

Again she’d hit a nerve. Had he been in trouble before? She smiled and waited for him to answer.

“I’m sorry, what was the question?”

She rephrased. “Have you ever been in trouble with the police before? Maybe not arrested, but warned? Or questioned?

The color drained from his face. “Questioned.”

“Why?” She held her breath.

“My fiancée was killed in a tractor rollover. My brother and I were there when it happened.” A brief glimpse of that tragedy shone from his eyes, but then he shuttered it off as easily as she might pull the shades on a window.

“When was this?”

“A little over three years ago.” He looked down at his feet. With his elbows balanced on his knees, Ryan clasped his hands so tight his knuckles had turned white.

She watched him closely. It was eating him up inside. Was he an alcoholic without knowing it or headed there because of his grief? It wasn’t uncommon for someone who’d never showed signs of substance abuse to slide down that slippery slope as a way to cope.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Yeah, me, too.” He struggled for control.

Part of her wanted to dig deeper, get him to talk about what had happened that day, but she stopped herself from asking the question poised on her lips. She wasn’t his counselor.

Kellie quickly gathered her papers and stood. “I think I have everything I need for now. You signed a permission waiver for us to check with your family, so I’ll complete those interviews later today.”

He stood as well. “Why do you have to talk to them? I told you everything you asked.”

Kellie wouldn’t sugarcoat the reason. “We need to establish your credibility.”

He jammed his hands in his pockets. “Okay, fine. Then what?”

“Then I’ll review what we discussed along with the questionnaire you completed and make my recommendation to my boss and mentor counselor. Once they’ve reviewed the paperwork, we’ll forward their findings to the court. You’ll get copies of everything.”

Ryan looked worried. “When will I hear something?”

“By the end of the week.” She extended her hand. “I know this isn’t easy on you, but we’re on the same team.”

Ryan took it and squeezed.

For a moment, Kellie didn’t think he’d let go. His touch wasn’t threatening at all. In fact, all the bluster had gone out of him and he hung on like she was a rescue ring tossed in rough waters.

When he finally did let go of her hand, Kellie was tempted to reach for him again. And that was plain old crazy thinking. And dangerous.

He headed for the door and then stopped, turned around and gave her a hint of a smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Kellie’s heart pounded all over again.

* * *

Ryan stepped out of the treatment center into cold October sunshine peeking out from behind dark gray clouds. He felt a lot like the dried-up leaves getting swirled into a circle in the parking lot. His whole life had been stirred into a mess of decayed matter.

What had he gotten himself into? One stupid decision had cost him way more than the money spent on court fees, increased insurance and an invasive assessment. Despite the promise of dropped charges once he satisfied the conditions of his sentence, namely an evaluation and possible treatment, this thing had the power to impact the rest of his life.

Clicking the unlock button on his keys, Ryan climbed in his truck, but he didn’t start the engine right away. He stared at the trees on the surrounding hills that blazed in bright hues of orange and red. He’d made two stupid decisions. The first had been letting Sara try that asinine stunt with the tractor.

If only he’d told her no...

He leaned his head back and sighed. “I am such an idiot.”

The night of the party would have been their third wedding anniversary had Sara lived. They would have been married three years, maybe with a baby on the way. Ryan briefly closed his eyes. The pain hadn’t gone away. The hollow feeling he carried around had grown like a cancerous tumor.

He’d tried to recover through church, then isolation, and then that night, he’d tried something else. The party had given him an excuse to go further than a few beers to relax. He’d effectively blurred his memories until he couldn’t recall them anymore. He’d drunk enough to blot out that look on Sara’s face when she lay in his arms, dying.

It had been a real treat for his family to find out he’d been arrested. His one call had been to his future brother-in-law instead of his parents. Adam had picked him up from jail without lecture, but it was still a humbling experience he’d never want to repeat. Not something he’d wanted to place on his parents, either. Knowing his mom, she might have left him in jail overnight to think about what he’d done to get there.

That pretty intern reminded him a little of his mom. Kellie Cavanaugh wasn’t exactly short, maybe more average in height, but she looked small and delicate despite her powerhouse of a handshake. With light freckles all over her face and eyes that couldn’t decide whether to be blue or green, she’d nailed him with a direct gaze that saw far more than he’d wanted her to see. A good talent when it came to counseling, but potentially bad news for him.

He wasn’t a drunk. But would Kellie Cavanaugh see that? He wanted this whole thing done and over with, but his future lay in her hands. He started his truck and slammed it into Reverse.

By the time he got to work, Ryan was glad his duties today included fall cleanup in the cherry fields. Throwing stuff around sounded good right about now.

“How’d it go?” His boss, Liz, stood in the doorway of his small office.

“I don’t know. I’ll find out if I have to go to ‘treatment’—” Ryan made quotation marks with his fingers “—by the end of the week.”

Liz gave him a smile. Only a few years older than his twenty-seven years, Liz was hired in as the new director of the research center six months ago when she moved back to the area with her husband.

She’d been great through this whole thing, promising to go to bat for him if record of his arrest printed in their local newspaper was ever questioned by the board of directors.

“Have you thought maybe this is what you need?”

“I don’t abuse any substance—” He cut himself short. Was that true anymore?

Liz held up her hand. “You’re the most dependable, hardworking guy on staff, but there’s this sadness in you.... I know it’s about your fiancée, but maybe this is all for some big cosmic reason.”

Ryan snorted. “You sound like my brother.”

“Well, maybe we have a point.”

“Yeah, well. I’ve got stuff to do. Thanks, Liz.” Ryan wasn’t interested in a theological debate. If he heard one more time from well-meaning folks how all things work together for good to those who love God, he’d tear his hair out.

How could God use this one? Ryan had blocked out God for a while now. Maybe He’d finally received the message and had given Ryan a hands-off. And look where he’d landed.

* * *

Two days later while waiting for her evening teen group session, Kellie sat at her desk with her office phone cradled against her shoulder. “Mrs. Marsh? Hello, this is Kellie Cavanaugh from the LightHouse Center in LeNaro. Do you have a few moments?”

She heard a sigh at the other end.

“Yes, I do. Ryan told me you might be calling.” Ryan’s mother had a pleasant-sounding voice.

Expecting the call was another good sign. Ryan Marsh demonstrated responsibility by giving his family members a heads-up. Or he could have prepped them on what to say. Either way, Kellie would find out.

She’d hit a wall with his evaluation. She believed what Ryan had told her even though her boss thought his answers were too perfect to be true.