Truly, Madly, Deeply (The Baxters #31) - Karen Kingsbury Page 0,54

get stalked by the suspects they prosecute.” He paused. “Look at your dad. No one would’ve thought being a businessman would be dangerous.”

He was right. Reagan had shared with Luke the story about her father, the one her mom had told her on the anniversary of 9/11. “The thing is…” Reagan searched Luke’s eyes. “I don’t know how I can live through it. Every day… not knowing whether he’ll come home.”

They finished their coffees and Luke moved to the chair beside her. The shop was nearly empty except for the two of them. “Come here.” Luke took her in his arms. “Faith in God, Reagan. That’s how we’ll both get through it.”

Reagan still couldn’t believe it. Were they really talking about this? Really coming to agreement that their Tommy was going to be a police officer? Shouldn’t there be more discussion, at least? Did Tommy really know the risks of being a cop? She dropped her voice to a whisper. “The average life expectancy of a police officer is just fifty-seven years.”

“Reagan.” His eyes were kinder still. “Only God knows the number of our days.”

“But that’s nearly twenty-two years less than—” She stopped herself. “Only God knows.”

“Yes.”

A sigh slipped from the deepest place in Reagan’s soul. If Tommy wanted to fight crime with his one precious life, that was his choice. Not hers.

Luke had to leave. He had a meeting back at the office. They stood and Reagan leaned her head against his for a few seconds. “I’m sorry again. For how I’ve been.”

“You do know that most police officers are heroes.” He moved a strand of hair from her eyes. “Imagine life without them.”

“Of course.” Reagan was horrified that she had come across as if she believed anything else. “I have the highest respect for everyone wearing a badge, Luke. You know that.”

“I do.” He raised his brow, his expression gentle. “As long as it’s not your son.” He didn’t wait for a response. “Just think about that, Reagan. When you talk to Tommy.”

Reagan thanked him for the talk and when Luke was gone she sat down and stared at her empty coffee cup. A different kind of sick came over her. Had she come across that way to Tommy? Like she thought police work was something less than being a doctor or a lawyer? That wasn’t how she felt at all.

Police officers… firefighters… first responders. All of them put their lives on the line every day. Their job description was simple—help people, help society.

Another coffee. That’s what she needed. She got in line behind a trio of teenage girls and at the same time a pair of police officers entered the coffee shop. A man and a woman. Both black. They were chatting, smiling as they got in line behind Reagan.

Probably somebody’s husband… someone’s wife. The son and daughter of parents who likely supported them. People who were proud of them. Did they have children, little ones hoping their daddy or mommy would come home at the end of the day? Every day?

Reagan wanted to hug them. Instead she turned and smiled. “Thank you. For your service.”

“Of course.” The male officer was quick to respond. “It’s our pleasure.”

Our pleasure. The words stayed with Reagan as she stepped up and ordered another coffee. She paid for her drink and slid her card forward. “I want to pay for whatever the officers are having.”

“Okay.” The guy behind the counter took her card and grinned. “I love when people do that. It’s only right.”

“Yes.” Reagan took her drink to her table and waited while the police officers ordered. Both of them looked back at her and waved.

“Thank you.” The woman smiled and held up her coffee. “Means a lot.”

After they left, Reagan collected her credit card and went to her car. For a long while she sat behind the wheel, staring at the bushes in front of her. The next call could cost the officers their lives. Yet here they were, smiling between tasks. Doing the job they were called to do.

“Lord, You see my heart.” She whispered even as tears filled her eyes. An image came to mind. The same two officers coming to her door with somber faces. Middle of the night. She shook her head. “No, Father. I can’t lose Tommy. I cannot.” She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned back against the headrest. “Change his mind, God. Please. Give him another passion so—”

The male officer’s words hit her again.

It’s our pleasure.

In a single moment, her fear faded.