A Texas Ranger's Family (9 page)

Erin laid aside her Nikon owner's manual one evening when Dana expressed interest in a board game. The teen made a noisy fuss, chanting a challenge to her dad as she climbed the stairs to get the Scrabble box. Erin's face burned with guilt when Dana dragged a card table and three folding chairs into the room, determined her dad would not be excluded. Even as she concentrated on observing the rules, Erin struggled not to laugh at the silly comments Daniel used to distract his opponents or soften the blow of a high scoring win. Though he continually poked at Erin's serious demeanor, the simple fun got under her skin, at least for the one night.

Mornings and afternoons, Daniel knocked and poked his head through the crack in the two doors to see if she
needed anything. Each visit she mustered up a bright smile and a “No, but thanks” response, hoping he wouldn't be suspicious that she wasn't asking for his help in moving from one position to the next. Erin wasn't about to display the mobility she'd regained over the hard hours of work. Her progress was a winning hand to be held close to the vest. As long as nobody suspected her game, there would be no pressure on Erin to show her cards.

There was another reason, a more important reason, that Erin was determined to hold something back. As she practiced skin and dental care left-handed before the mirror one morning, the truth of it shocked her to the core. In the cozy bathroom that had become her private space, she was feeling…
at ease
. And on the family porch where Dana joined Erin to watch the summer sun fade, she recognized there was a sense of
belonging
. Even with her efforts to keep a distance, the place and the people had become far too friendly and homey. But like a family scene in a Rockwell painting, those emotions were as weak as watercolor and would dissolve just as easily.

Erin prayed for the strength to avoid the comfortable distractions. Prayed to God that she'd stay the course, work her plan. And that she could hurry back to the uncomplicated life she'd crafted from the wreckage of her childhood without leaving a legacy of damage to her own child.

And she was on track until she made the mistake of showing Daniel her private portfolio.

“
I
s there a particular reason you've been avoiding me all week?”

Erin lowered the old copy of
Time
magazine to find Daniel inside the doorway. Her breathing stilled as she took in how handsome he was in a simple white T-shirt, worn jeans and stocking feet. In this casual state, he was the young man who'd stolen her heart in the library the night they'd met.

It had been as difficult to leave the circle of his arms as to leave behind her tiny baby girl. But as the infant had howled constantly in a language without translation, Erin had recognized the familiar hammering of her heart and pounding in her head. They were the same physical reactions she'd experienced during her father's fits of violence. She was too old to hide anymore. She had to run.

She swallowed past the guilt that was a constant dryness in her throat. There was no point bothering with
a smoke screen answer to Daniel's question. Besides, he deserved better.

“We were acting too much like a cozy little family,” she admitted.

 

“Was that so bad?” Daniel made himself comfortable on the foot of the rented bed a few feet from where Erin reclined on the rattan chaise. He spotted minor changes in the room, the juxtaposition of small items that Erin herself had likely moved. She hadn't asked for his help in days, clearly managing on her own.

“No, it wasn't so bad. But the side effects will be.”

As much as he hated it, he understood. Still, he made her explain.

“For example?”

She closed the magazine and dropped it to her lap. A curve tugged at his mouth as he caught full view of the football memorabilia he'd sacrificed as a replacement for her dowdy hospital attire.

She spotted his smile and understood the cause.

“I know. I love it, too.”

He noted the ease with which she extended both arms away from her body now that she could be free of the sling for a few hours each day.

“Where did you get this big thing, anyway?”

“Don't change the subject. You were about to give me an example of why cozy is bad.”

“Daniel, this is a short-term deal,” she reminded him. “I'm here a few weeks at best, but it only took a day or two of this make-believe family atmosphere to cause Dana to forget that. Even LaVerne treats me like a reformed prodigal. I won't repay your kindness by
creating false expectations any more than I'd steal your silver candlesticks.” Her honesty was jarring.

“On the plus side,” Erin continued, “Dana knows who I am now. Though we keep our conversations in the present tense, I've been very open about my life and my job. So some of those big questions in her mind should be settled, right? She says she understands the demands of my work and I know high school is a busy time, so I'll leave the future up to her. With the way things are between us today, I can go back to my life without leaving too much upheaval in yours.”

He cringed inwardly and blinked at her matter-of-fact manner. She seemed to make sense, though he didn't know whether to admire or despise her sensibility. But no matter how Erin rationalized her developing relationship with her daughter, Dana would not be satisfied knowing her mama through photograph bylines and holiday greetings. His butter bean had been negotiating since she was six. When she went door-to-door collecting for charity, Dana didn't ask whether or not the neighbor would like to donate. She was so sure of closing the deal that she simply asked how much they wanted to give.

There was only one subject where she'd fallen short of success and that was in getting him to talk about her mother. Now that Erin was in the picture, Dana was blossoming in ways he'd never imagined. It would be wrong to expect her to squelch such growth. A shudder threatened as Daniel considered the ultimate impact these few weeks would have on the rest of his life.

“And what about you, Erin?” He shifted attention away from his personal worries.

“What about me?” She snuggled against the pillows
of her chair in a way that would have brought on a yelp of pain a week earlier.

“Has this time with us upset your life?”

“Only in a positive way.” As she seemed to consider his question further, she drummed fingertips on the magazine in her lap. Daniel knew from the front cover that Erin's work in Rwanda was featured inside the pages.

“I figured this bum arm would end my career, but Christina assures me it's coming along well. And even if I don't regain full mobility, I've discovered my left hand deserves more credit than I ever gave it before.”

She patted her tummy. “I'm not missing any meals and my toenails are back under control.” She wiggled bare toes showing off a fresh coat of red polish. “And today I shot and downloaded photos entirely with my left hand.”

He mirrored her happy smile, grateful Erin's confidence was returning even if it would only accelerate losing her again from Dana's life. And from his.

“If you'll hand me the computer, I'll show you some great shots of a squirrel scavenging your bird feeder.”

He stood, stretched his long legs and reached for her laptop. On the floor, beneath the glass surface of the sofa table, laid the large black case J.D. had brought during his visit. Daniel grabbed the portfolio.

“How about you show me what's in here, instead?”

She wrinkled her nose like he was waving old gym socks. “You'll be disappointed. It's just my personal stuff and none of it has ever seen the light of day,” she was apologetic but at least she didn't refuse.

He pulled a chair alongside, swept open the zipper and placed the closed case across Erin's lap. She lifted
the cover and let it fall aside, like pulling the opening night curtain of a Broadway show. Daniel watched as her hands reverently touched the enlarged photographs. Her fingers hovered protectively over the images like a new mother blocking the rays of the sun from her infant. His gaze moved to Erin's face where she made no effort to hide angular creases of sadness or smooth waves of satisfaction as she viewed her work.

If he had to guess, he'd say these particular photographs were the very embodiment of her spirit. His heart softened at the raw emotion in her eyes.

“This is the picture that started my obsession.” She tilted the book for him to see more clearly.

A horrific two-vehicle head-on accident was spread across the page in hues of black, white and gray. Mangled metal and shards of glass littered an intersection and blocked oncoming traffic. Dark-skinned passersby in light cotton tunics and sandals crowded the sidewalk, astonished stares on their faces. Both drivers were trapped, open eyes unseeing, gone to the life beyond. And in the midst of the devastation was a plump-cheeked toddler strapped into a car seat thrown free of the carnage. She sucked her thumb contentedly, round eyes watching strange faces, not a single curl on her head or lace ruffle of her dress disturbed.

“I was in Pakistan to photograph young Muslims in training to fight the Taliban. This is a major street in Islamabad where a protest against the military was expected. I was ready with my camera when the crash happened only yards from where I was positioned. I got this shot seconds before the baby was scooped up by an emergency worker.”

“That child's survival was nothing short of a miracle.”

Erin lifted her face, her wide eyes sought his.

“Exactly. But my timing was off. I caught the result of a miracle but missed the act.”

“What?” She lost him.

“Look, here's another one.” She turned clear page protectors, each one containing a stunning image. “This was a mud slide in Thailand. I shot it through the back window of our bus as it took out the road behind us. I heard it crashing through the trees above us but I missed it.”

“If you'd been any closer it wouldn't have missed you!” And Daniel thought
he'd
flirted with death on a few occasions.

She flipped more pages, searching. “Here it is! This time I thought I had it for sure, but when it was developed I was heartsick.”

A barefoot Nigerian runner broke the tape of a marathon finish line, his shining face thrown back in glory and agony.

“What was there to be upset about? That guy was a long shot and his record-breaking time was all over the news. You got an incredible picture of his win.”

“You don't understand.” She shook her head. “I was right there but I still couldn't catch it. At the very moment when he turned his face to the sun, there was an arc of gold over his head. It was like God's blessing settling on the runner. I felt certain that was my moment, but I was wrong.”

“Your moment?”

She expelled a deep sigh and closed the case. “That's why I never show this work to anybody. It's completely
selfish. It's not about the subjects. It's about me trying to capture a miracle on film.”

“Why?”

She ducked her head. “It's embarrassing to admit something so trivial.”

“Erin?” Daniel said her name softly, encouraging her as he would Dana. “If it's that important to you, it's not trivial at all.”

Her gaze sought his, the need for understanding in the squint of her eyes. After long moments she spoke with reluctance but honesty.

“I want something uniquely my own that I can be proud of, Daniel. Something rare to replace what I missed as a child and gave up as a woman. I need visible proof my life got back on the right track even though it started off so badly.”

“Erin, every one of these shots is a testament to that fact.”

“But they're incomplete,” she insisted.

Incomplete. Like Erin.

Daniel recognized a window of opportunity when the Father opened one. She was in a desperate search for evidence that the evil she'd experienced as a child had been used for God's good. Her family, security and innocence had been stolen away. Without the proof she craved, her profound losses would never make sense. She would never be complete.

Daniel eased from the edge of his chair to press his knees to the floor beside Erin. He offered his open hand as he would to a frightened animal. A sign of comfort, lacking all aggression. After a moment of hesitation, she
slipped her left palm into his and laced their fingers together as her gaze implored his face.

“Erin, God's ways are not our ways. He sees with eternal eyes and the vision He has for us in this world is beyond anything our minds can conceive. This side of heaven, most believers will never understand the purpose for what seems like life's random events. But Jeremiah 29:11 assures us God has a plan to give us a future and a hope. When we have no proof, we exercise faith.”

As if his words had siphoned off her energy, Erin leaned to the left allowing her head to rest against his shoulder.

“Sweet lady,” he whispered as he slipped his arm behind her in support. “Every treasure you have stored in this binder is confirmation that you were exactly where God wanted you to be.”

“Even though my rightful place was with you and Dana?”

She asked the question Daniel had been trying to come to terms with for years. Maybe if Erin could accept the answer, he could, too.

“Well, you see, that's where God really does some of His best work. When our free will conflicts with a pretty simple plan and turns it into a confusing mess, He can still use it for His glory if we get back in line with His Word and cooperate. And your willingness to go where He sends you has produced some pictures in situations where words could never, ever do justice. Journalists wrote about that tsunami in Indonesia all day long, but it was your photos that moved thousands of people toward relief efforts.”

The outside corners of her eyes radiated tiny lines as she concentrated, processing his words.

“You've followed my career,” she said softly, as if shocked.

“How could you expect anything else of me? Your talent confirmed my belief in Dana's future. She'll be a winner at whatever she wants to pursue, just like her beautiful mama.” Daniel assured the woman whose head still rested on his shoulder.

She exhaled a breath, as if releasing uncertainty from deep inside. The eyes that had been so anxious only moments before softly fluttered to a close. Where muscles in her face had been tense, they now relaxed. As Daniel cradled her tenderly, he realized that for the first time since she'd arrived in his home, here with her cheek warm against his shoulder, Erin seemed at peace.

Was there a chance she might stop fighting the
cozy
feeling of family?

Specifically Daniel's family?

Her breathing slowed, deepened. He shifted away.

“Um, as much as I hate to disturb you, I wouldn't want Mama or Dana to see us like this.”

 

Erin's eyes flew wide as she noticed the doors leading to the common hallway of the house were open.

“Good point,” she agreed as they moved apart and Daniel resumed his place on a nearby chair. “We wouldn't want them to get the wrong idea.”