Page 55 of Gentle Persuasion

“It’s the part of Cole that makes me the proudest and also the most afraid. Honor for what he believes in is as much a part of him as the color of his hair. He’s a cop, Debbie. And a good one. Can you live with that?”

“I’ve already faced it,” she said. “I’ve witnessed the long hours and coped, I think, reasonably well. I’ve seen him in action, and I’ve seen him hurting. But he won’t let me share his pain.”

Morgan nodded and patted her gently. “In time, he will…I think. Don’t give up on him, honey. He loves you very much, you know.”

Debbie never gave up on something she wanted. She walked away, unable to speak. The pain was too fresh for words.

***

The key turned quietly in the lock as Cole let himself inside. Raindrops ran off his hair and jacket onto the kitchen floor. He stepped out of his shoes and socks, draped his damp jacket across a stool, and walked barefoot through the house. It had been a long night. The paperwork was finally finished. A review of the shooting would take place, and then everything would go on as before. He had nothing to worry about.

But worry was all he could do. He kept seeing Rick’s body buck from the impact of bullets. He shuddered, remembering the sound they made hitting flesh and remembering emptying his own gun into the man before it was over.

All that he’d feared from his job had happened in the space of one incident. His partner had been shot, and he’d killed a man. He took a deep breath and shuddered again.

I got rained on. It’s only a chill.

But he knew better. It was getting to him, and he didn’t know how to stop it from happening.

He opened the door to his room. The dim glow of a nightlight in his bathroom illuminated the room’s interior, and he saw her. She was curled into a small wad, sleeping in the middle of this bed with her arms wrapped around his pillow. Every emotion he’d buried since the incident had happened came hurtling forward. They slammed inside him with rude, unforgivable force. There was no time to undress. He needed to get to her, and he needed it now. If he didn’t make it to the bed and her arms, he’d come apart, from the inside out.

Droplets fell on Debbie’s bare arms and face and yanked her awake. Cole was unwinding her from his pillow. She could feel his hands. They were shaking.

“You’re home,” she said sleepily. “I tried to wait up…”

“Just let me hold you,” he pleaded softly. Agony was thick in his voice.

“You’re wet,” Debbie said. Her hands moved across his hair and across his cheeks as her breath caught at the back of her throat. It wasn’t rain on his face.

“Come here,” she said, and wrapped him in her arms.

In desperation, he clung to her strength and warmth. Words were not possible…or necessary.

Long after he’d finally relaxed in her arms and slept, Debbie was still awake, cradling his head against her breast. Her hands smoothed the nearly dry fabric of his shirt over and over in a gentle caress, a reminder that he wasn’t alone. Often, his arms would tighten around her, and he’d begin to mumble. It was then that she’d know that he was starting to dream, to relive the horror of the incident all over again.

“Sssh,” she whispered. “It’s all right, Cole. I’ve got you, darling. And I’ll never let you go.”

His arms relaxed, his breathing evened, and Debbie sighed with relief. She threaded her fingers through his hair, combing gently against his scalp as he quieted.

***

Hesitant to acknowledge itself, morning finally dawned in a gray and rainy mood.

Exhaustion had finally claimed Debbie. Cole heard the steady rhythm of her heart before he opened his eyes and knew that he’d fallen asleep in her arms.

If I never have to move again, I’ll be happy, Cole thought.

And then he looked down at himself and changed his mind. His clothes felt glued to his body. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept fully dressed.

He shifted slowly, easing himself out of her arms. It only took a few seconds to undress, and then he was back beside her. She sighed softly in her sleep as he nestled her against him. Her arm slipped around his chest as her head fell into the hollow beneath his arm. Her hand was small and warm against his skin. He pulled the covers over them, slid his hand on top of hers, and closed his eyes.

They slept.

***

Morgan tiptoed down the hall toward Cole’s and Debbie’s rooms. The night had been long and traumatic for both of them, but in different ways, and he was anxious to check on them.

The door to Cole’s room was ajar. He pushed it aside and had started to go in when he saw them. A mist of tears filmed his vision, and for one moment, he remembered his own wife and the precious mornings they’d spent in each other’s arms.

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