Safe in His Arms (11 page)

Maybe coming today wasn't a mistake after all. Not only had she been there for Joe as he took a first baby step toward reclaiming his faith, but she would be able to give Emma and even herself the chance to make some new friends. Contrary to what her parents seemed to think, she knew she could make time for friends without losing her focus on Emma. That could apply to Joe, too, if she could forget her ridiculous fantasies about him.

The older Lancaster children guided their younger siblings to the family Suburban, while Brett and Tricia walked with Lindsay to the truck. Joe already had turned on the engine and blasted the air-conditioning and was buckling Emma into her child safety seat in the truck's second-row bench when they caught up with him.

“Hey, Joe,” Brett said. “I just realized something.”

Slowly, Joe turned back to face them, leaving the door open to let out the steamy air. “Are you sure it's something you need to share with the rest of us?”

“Oh, I'm sure,” Brett said.

Lindsay looked back and forth between them, not understanding, but Brett's grin and Joe's frown hinted that one of them wouldn't be thrilled to hear what the other had to say.

“Then what did you realize?” Joe said in a flat tone.

“That this is first time you've ever brought a woman over to meet us.”

Tricia turned to her husband, her eyes wide. “You're absolutely right.” But then she grinned, as if she'd been part of the plan to tease him all along.

It was all Lindsay could do to catch a breath as her
rationalizations concerning Joe disappeared faster than the cars pulling from the church lot. Was this really a “meet the friends” event for Joe, rather than simply a long-overdue visit to church? Okay, she was the first woman he'd brought to meet them, but was that significant?

Joe's expression was so difficult to read that Lindsay couldn't decide whether he was angry or embarrassed or something else entirely. He seemed to have lost the confidence that he usually wore, even out of uniform. As his gaze connected with hers, he chewed his bottom lip, but then he shrugged.

“You see what happens when people get married?” Joe shook his head. “All that bliss turns their brains to mush, and then they can't help projecting their happy status onto everyone around them.”

“Now, that's an interesting theory, but I wonder why you would jump to that conclusion in this instance,” Brett said. “I had been just about to say how nice it was that you finally brought a friend along.” He leaned toward Lindsay conspiratorially. “After all these years, his stories are getting old.”

“Sorry my friendship has been such a chore for you.”

Brett and Tricia looked at each other and burst out laughing. Joe frowned at the two of them, but soon he was laughing, too. Lindsay smiled, though she wasn't sure what had just happened. It must have been an inside joke, the kind shared by close friends…or sisters who just happened to be best friends.

At the thought, Lindsay straightened, expecting the relentless fist that always gripped her heart when she thought of Delia. This time, though, the squeeze wasn't as tight, and she was even able to smile a little over those private jokes she once shared with her sister.

Sure, remembering hurt now, and probably always would to some degree, but she didn't want to lose all of those precious memories that would allow a little girl to know the mother who left this world too soon. It was strange how being with these people who never knew her sister made her feel closer to Delia's memory.

“Well, Joe, it looks like you're already boring her, too.” Brett patted his friend on the shoulder. “That's not a good sign.”

“Guess I am in trouble.”

“What?” Lindsay shook her head. “That's not what I— I didn't mean…”

But they laughed again, and she let it go at that.

Joe lifted an eyebrow, as if he wondered what she'd been thinking about, but he didn't press.

“Aunt Lindsay,” Emma called from inside the truck. “Can we go now?”

“That's a good idea,” Tricia said, as she glanced at the Suburban, with all its windows open and children hanging their heads out of them, as if they were smothering inside. “If we don't get back to the house soon, there's going to be an uprising.”

When she and Joe climbed into the truck, she expected questions, but he must have been preparing himself for the same thing from her because he didn't ask any as they followed the Lancasters to their new house. It was probably a good idea that they didn't talk. If he started asking her questions, she might have to admit a few things she wasn't ready to say, even to herself.

“H
e's a great guy, isn't he?”

Lindsay started at the sound of Tricia's voice and adjusted her cane to regain balance. She'd thought she was alone as she moved about the Lancasters' study, staring at framed documents and shadow boxes with souvenirs of a life dedicated to public service. But now she'd been caught red-handed, searching for a familiar face in the photos.

She turned to find the young mother standing in the doorway watching her. “You mean Brett?” she asked, managing to keep a straight face.

“We both know who I meant.” Tricia smiled. “But my husband's not half-bad, either.”

“I'm sure he would appreciate hearing that,” Lindsay said with a chuckle.

“Wouldn't want to make him overconfident or anything.”

“You probably boosted his self-esteem irreversibly when you agreed to marry him.”

“Remind me to tell Joe that we're keeping you. We knew you had to be special if he brought you here.”

“He's never introduced you to any of his female friends?”

“I guess he couldn't choose which one,” Tricia said. “At least with girlfriends, he never kept any of them around long enough to make dinner plans.”

“Oh.” She was having a hard time reconciling the man she was hearing about with the one she'd come to know. The one who'd stepped up to help her and her niece. The one who'd carried her away from the accident scene in his arms.

Tricia watched her for several seconds. “Don't be too disappointed in him. It was a long time ago. It just takes some of us longer than others to find our way.”

Lindsay knew what that was like, but it was strange, realizing that the man who'd helped her had his own issues. She'd known about the loss of his mother, so it shouldn't have surprised her that he'd had problems with women.

“He's really been a good friend to Emma and me,” she said, feeling as if she should come to his defense.

“Yes, Joe's very attached…to Emma,” Tricia said.

Lindsay had been taking in the basketball-team pictures and the Thin Blue Line charity certificates, but she looked back to Tricia now, sensing her unspoken message.

“I don't know what we would have done without—wait.” She jerked her head to look out the window. “Is Emma okay? You said she would be all right for a few minutes with—”

“Don't worry, Lindsay. She's fine. She's still playing out back with the kids. Lani and Rusty have everything under control with their new little mascot.”

“Where are Brett and Joe?”

“In the garage, looking at Brett's new table saw.
What is it about men and table saws? Yes, they're tables and they cut things, but beyond that, I don't get it.”

They both laughed.

“Look at this place.” Tricia reached out to touch an ancient state trooper's hat hanging on the wall. “We don't call it an office. It's our ‘State Police Room.' Most of the members on the force have one in their homes.”

“It looks like Brett has had a celebrated career.”

Tricia brushed her hand over a portrait of her husband in uniform. “If you really want to see a tribute to heroism, you should see the room at Joe's dad's house. With Joe's father and grandfather living there together now, that place is like the state police Smithsonian.”

“Joe told me he has big shoes to fill.” Like her, did he sometimes wonder if he would ever measure up?

“You have no idea,” Tricia said. “But he's doing a better job than he realizes of filling those shoes. Did you know that Brett and Joe used to be partners on midnights?”

Tricia waited for Lindsay's nod before she continued. “There's nobody Brett trusts more to have covering his back. Nobody I trust more to help keep my husband safe.”

A lump formed in Lindsay's throat as she stared at a photo of Brett and Joe with their arms draped over each other's shoulders. True friends through thick and thin. Her relationship with Delia had been like that, with the added benefit of being sisters, as well.

“Joe told me about your accident,” Tricia said in a quiet voice. “I'm so sorry for your loss. For you and Emma. I know what that kind of mind-numbing loss is like. So, if you ever need someone to talk to, someone who gets it…”

Lindsay nodded, and the woman who she'd met that
day hugged her like a childhood friend. Joe had given her such a blessing by introducing her to these people.

Tricia pulled back from her and stared into Lindsay's eyes. “Joe has really struggled with guilt over being unable to save both you and your sister. He told Brett he played the scenario over and over, looking for what he could have done differently.”

“He did everything he could,” Lindsay said, finding that she really believed that, even if part of her still wondered if he'd helped the right victim first. “He was a hero.”

“He doesn't he see it that way. It had to mean so much to him that you've forgiven him. That you've accepted him as a friend.”

Had she forgiven him completely? Lindsay wasn't convinced. She hoped so because he deserved her forgiveness. He'd never deserved her blame, though she hadn't been ready to acknowledge that before.

“But then it's already a sign that you're a good person that your sister entrusted you with Emma's care.”

“Thanks.”

Tricia must have believed they'd spent enough time on that heavy topic because she turned back to Lindsay smiling.

“I still wonder how you convinced him to go to church with you. We've invited him so many times. He accepts our dinner invitations. He's a single guy, after all. But he's always amazingly busy on Sunday mornings.”

“He told me he lost his faith after his mom died.”

Tricia pointed to another picture of Brett and Joe standing arm-in-arm. “Oh, Joe still believes. He's just not ready to admit it.”

“I told him almost the same thing.”

“Great minds think alike,” Tricia said. “Good thing for Joe that our God is patient.”

“That's a good thing for all of us.”

The poem. It was a symbol that they were both right about Joe and his faith. Lindsay was tempted to tell Tricia about how he'd given her the poem about God the night of the accident, but she doubted that Joe would appreciate her sharing the story. He was embarrassed enough every time she mentioned it. She decided it was a story best left between the two of them.

“Are you ladies finished gabbing about us in here?”

Both turned to find Brett standing in the doorway where Tricia had been earlier. Since it was impossible to tell how long he'd been there, or if Joe was nearby, Lindsay was relieved she hadn't mentioned the poem.

“We have five—make that six—starving youngsters out there, and we've got Rossetti manning the grill, so I figured a call for backup might be in order.”

“Uh-oh, we'd better get out there.” Tricia linked arms with Lindsay and started for the door. As she passed her husband, she asked, “Is the fire department on standby?”

“No, but good call.”

They were already out the back door by the time Brett caught up to them. He stepped closer to his wife, putting his arm around her and giving her a squeeze. “Did Lindsay pass the test…because if you're still not sure, I can make a quick call and come up with a lie detector…”

“She passed. We're keeping her. But you'd better let Rossetti know that his spot around here isn't as secure.”

Lindsay followed them out into the huge fenced backyard, catching a glimpse of Joe, who looked like
he had the grill more under control than Brett had suggested. The children were still playing on the wooden fort, so it didn't look as if any of them had passed out from starvation yet.

When Joe glanced up from the grill and smiled at Lindsay, her heart skipped a beat. No matter how Joe felt about her, she could no longer deny that her feelings for him went way beyond friendship.

During their visit, she'd learned a lot more about him. No, he wasn't perfect, but learning about his imperfections had only balanced the qualities she already knew he possessed—strength, dedication and empathy. His incongruities only made her more curious about him. The man with a spotted record with women, who'd been only kind to her. The brave police officer who was afraid to fail.

Her intense curiosity about him was just another signal that she was in too deep. Stepping away would be in her best interest. Her parents certainly believed that it was in Emma's best interest, but Lindsay knew now she wouldn't do it and not only because she disagreed with them. The need to know everything about Joe Rossetti and the need to be near him were too strong. Both of those things were so appealing, and yet they scared her to death.

 

The last strip of orange and magenta was clinging to the edge of the horizon when Joe sat down next to Lindsay on the front porch step of her condo. She shifted farther over, probably without realizing she was doing it, and glanced up the street. He didn't have to ask her for whom she was watching.

“Is she asleep?”

He nodded. “I only made it to the second page of
The Velveteen Rabbit.
Those Lancaster kids wore her out.”

“She had a great time.” She cleared her throat and didn't look his way as she added, “So did I.”

“The kids thought Emma was great. She has a lot in common with the three older ones.” He didn't have to say that he, too, shared the loss of a parent in common with all of them.

“She adored them, too.”

Joe looked up in time to see that orange strip of sky disappear as if someone had colored it with a navy felt-tip pen. “You're probably wondering why a great couple like Brett and Tricia would ever be friends with a guy like me.”

“I didn't wonder that. Brett said he was obligated since he was your first partner.”

“Thanks.” He reached over the space that separated them and poked her arm. “But it's true enough.”

As he watched her under the yellow cast of the porch light, he had a hard time sensing her mood. Was she sorry she hadn't stuck to her guns and continued to avoid him, or was she just worried that her parents would pop in for a visit and decide that her spending time with him was some symbol that she was ignoring Emma?

“You're probably wondering why I had never brought a woman to meet my friends before. And why Brett made a big production of letting you know it.”

“Well…”

“Oh. Tricia told you.” He hated for Lindsay to know what a creep he'd been. “I wasn't such a great guy. I didn't treat women very well.”

“Tricia just said you liked to date around.”

“And if I know Tricia at all, then she didn't say it as
pleasantly as that. I did once tell her husband that there were plenty of fish in the sea and there was no use reeling the same one in all the time.”

Her lips lifted at that. “Okay, maybe she didn't say it harshly enough.”

“I deserved that. I wasn't just dating around. I was avoiding relationships. What Tricia doesn't know—I never even got around to telling Brett about it—was why.”

Lindsay gave him a dubious look that suggested there was no good reason to ever have treated women badly, and she was right, but he decided to tell her anyway.

“I got burned,” he began, but had to take another breath before he could continue. “Her name was Chelsea. I was crazy about her.”

Her eyes widened with questions, but she didn't ask.

“I had just taken my entrance exam for the third time. And failed again.” He had to force himself to look up at her again. “Did I tell you I had to test four times before I finally was admitted to the Michigan State Police Recruit School? Not a proud time for a third-generation guy.”

“No, you didn't tell me.”

“Well, I had expected to pass that time and had planned to propose to her right afterward. Instead, I missed the mark again, and then Chelsea announced that she was dumping me for some other guy. Apparently, I'd been too focused on studying for the test and not enough on her.”

He glanced over at Lindsay then, and the compassion in her eyes hurt almost more than the original breakup.

“Not only had I failed at the family business, now I had also failed at building the other thing the Ros
setti men were known for. Blissful marriages. Dad and Grandpa adored Mom and Grandma and never got over their deaths. Even my brother, David, and his wife have been sickeningly happy.”

“It's easy to see why you avoided relationships,” she told him. “Why didn't you ever tell Brett this story?”

“Because Brett got dumped himself by his first fiancée. I was supposed to be his best man in that first wedding, too.” He glanced over at her, surprised to find her studying him so intently. “Anyway, his story was more pitiful than mine, so I didn't want to compete.”

“And you didn't want to share your humiliation.”

“That, too.” He grinned. There was no getting anything past Lindsay Collins.

Lindsay had moved closer to him. He hated that she might have shifted out of pity, but his nerve endings came alive with her nearness, and her light floral perfume invaded his senses. He could feel her gaze on him. She was trying to figure him out, struggling.

“So, if this dating around thing was working for you, then why did you stop?”

“It stopped being fun…if it ever was. And after a while, I realized it wasn't any of the other women's faults that I got dumped.” He smiled out into the near darkness and then added, “Also, I decided that my mom would have been disappointed to know that after all of her work to raise David and me to be gentlemen, I'd grown up to treat women with anything less than respect.”

“For someone who's been gone for well over two decades, she still has a lot of impact on you.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

She turned and smiled at him then. “You should.”