The Hero's Redemption
His mouth tightened at the thought. His dreams of freedom had never taken into account the suspicion he faced everywhere he went. Somehow, people could tell on sight that he was an ex-con. He didn’t get it, but he couldn’t miss the stares.
What chilled him was wondering what he would have done if he hadn’t caught Erin’s eye. Would somebody else eventually have given him a chance and hired him? Did that only happen if you had family or friends to recommend you? Would he have gotten desperate enough to knock on his father’s door?
God, he hoped not. What Dani had said—about Dad finally believing that he’d been wrongly convicted—enraged Cole. If that was true, why hadn’t he written? Visited his innocent son? Had he expected Cole to come begging for a job or money?
At a soft sound outside, Cole stiffened. After a minute, he relaxed. Erin would have started the engine by now if she was going anywhere.
At least he’d been distracted from brooding about his father. Erin, though… Why wouldn’t she tell him where she went? Why did her eyes evade his even while she was saying as much as she did?
Thinking about tearing out the rotten steps proved more conducive to sleep.
At one point, he awakened abruptly, as he’d often done in his cell, thinking he’d heard a scream. But when there was no repetition, he decided it had been part of a dream he didn’t remember, and didn’t want to remember. He’d thought he heard screams other nights, too, but he was likely having flashbacks.
Strangely, this was the second night in a row that he’d jerked awake. Unsettled, he got out of bed and looked out his windows, but the night was quiet and especially dark. The moon must be covered by clouds.
The next time he opened his eyes, it was morning. He listened for rain but didn’t hear any on the roof. Except for that one interlude, he’d slept straight through, which meant Erin hadn’t gone anywhere last night.
Today might be the Lord’s Day, but he was eager to get started, anyway. Once he’d had a hasty breakfast, he glanced out the window. Gray skies persuaded him to add a sweatshirt on top of the navy blue tee.
Hauling up the garage door reminded him to suggest Erin buy that automatic opener for him to install. She didn’t have the muscle to lift this damn door on a regular basis.
He came out of the garage, wearing work gloves and carrying a crowbar and hammer, to find her waiting for him. In contrast to yesterday morning, she looked as if she might actually have slept.
“Do you need help?” she asked.
“Are you good with a circular saw?”
“Dad taught me how to use one, but it’s been a long time.”
Cole shook his head. “Then thank you, but no.”
“Are you starting at the bottom?”
“Yep. I’ll tear out and replace steps as I go.”
“You know we need to paint the garage, too, right?”
He hadn’t thought about why they had unopened paint cans left over, but he should have. He turned to assess the building. “Yeah. I guess we do.”
“I figured we should wait until you replace anything that’s rotting.”
Another few days of work. The relief was unsettling. “Once I finish the stairs, I’ll check the siding.” He glanced upward. “I hope it doesn’t rain.”
“Me, too.” She smiled. “Since you don’t need me, I’ll get to work digging out the front flower beds.”
“You want me to scythe the yard first?”
“Don’t waste your time. I’ll rent a weed whacker when you’re ready to do the yard. I’d buy one, except I doubt I’ll need it long-term.”
They separated to their respective labors, but Cole was in a position to keep an eye on her.
He’d have to ask her about old roses, he mused as he wrenched up a semirotted board with the crowbar he’d restored using steel wool and oil. Now that the house was painted, it did seem to cry out for flowers.
His hands went still as memories stirred of his mother, who had been a gardener. After she died, her flower beds were taken over by weeds. The next year, Dad planted them with grass seed. Now Cole saw it as symbolic. Despite everything, he still loved his father, who wasn’t a bad man. But the reality was, Mom had taken all the softness and color in their lives with her when she died.