Tag: #ThomasGaret

Categories
Pleasant Rosebud - Romantic Suspense

WELCOME HOME (Thomas Garet series)

He snapped and got into real dark moods a lot, but at least he stayed. She had been irresistibly drawn to him from the beginning. He looked like a stray dog, one that needed food, shelter and a good cuddle. Lacy offered the first two, but dared not hint on the third.

Just as Aunt Ann had warned, he insisted on paying for the room, and food. Lacy obliged him. She stayed in a block of apartments and didn’t have much use for help, but he offered to work in the yard, take out the trash, do the small laundry, cook, clean, and give her a vacation in her own space till he was strong enough to hit the road.

Thomas Garet continued to stay in Ravena’s condo down the road. Her friend had more than three months left of her exchange program to Tanzania in East Africa, and allowed Lacy the use of it.

They settled into a routine, and he visited her every other day to cook and clean. The arrangement was ludicrous because she did not need his services.

“We have a guest minister coming over to my church, Thomas, I thought you might want to come with me?”

“Haven’t been in church since Molly’s burial.” He picked the trash and walked out.

Lacy swallowed. He’d given her all manner of short, sharp answers about his life before they met since she asked who Molly was. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about his wife or the tragic circumstances around her demise. She let him be.

But how would she reach out to him? If she let him be every time he walked off on an attempt.

She followed him out. “Pastor Paul is a renowned international minister. He has the word.”

Thomas smirked. “He sure does now.” He brushed past her back into her space.

She followed him. “It’s rude to walk off when I’m trying to have a conversation with you.” She bit her lip.

“Then don’t have a conversation with me!” He glared, his blue eyes dead cold.

Her voice shook. “Thomas, please—”

He stepped back as if she threw him a punch. “Don’t try to win me!”

She clasped her hands. “Of course not. I—”

“I don’t want to go to your church. And I don’t want to be nice. To you or anyone.”

His words came out jerky, and for a moment, Lacy realized she had struck something in him. He never spoke this much. He stared her down for a second then turned to wash his hands.

Lacy touched his firm shoulder blade and squeezed before he stiffened. “Allow God to heal you, Thomas.”

He turned to her, his angry blue eyes blazing. “I—”

“Ssh.” She pulled him into her arms. “Allow God to come back.”

“He did nothing for me. I loved him with all my heart. Still he took everything from me.”

His sobs shocked her but she had prayed for him every single night since the day Charles Taylor shot him on the street. She needed to seize this moment.

Deep, throaty cries shook his body and she held his 200 pounds of toned muscles until they subsided.

She cupped his face and smoothed back his wild, blond hair. He might get a cut if she could convince him. “God loves you, Thomas, and he welcomes you. Home.”

He looked sideways for a moment and closed his eyes. She could almost taste his struggle. Thank God, she thought.

Her heart sang a song of healing and redemption. She prayed for courage to see him through. She whispered words of comfort and assurance, and he nodded intermittently. One day, she prayed he would return her gesture, and love her back the way she loved him from first sight.

For now, she was content to lead Thomas Garet on his way to finding love again.

 

Picture: https://pixabay.com/en/shoe-laces-leather-hiking-974564/

 

Author bio:

Sinmisola Ogúnyinka is a pastor’s wife, mother, writer and movie producer. She has a university degree in Economics, and is a Craftsman of Christian Writers’ Guild. She lives with her family in Pretoria, South Africa.

Blog: www.sinmisolao.wordpress.com

Twitter: @sinmisolaog

Categories
Pleasant Rosebud - Romantic Suspense

A TRIBUTE TO A SISTER (Thomas Garet series)

Thomas watched Charles Taylor arraigned. He wanted to see it. The man looked young for a father of a teenager. His dark eyes seemed like an endless pit, Thomas saw no life in them. As his charges were read to him, he merely stared into space.

Lacy walked into the room with a tray of freshly brewed coffee and two giant chocolate chip muffins. The smell of the delicious mix wafted to Thomas’ nose and drew him to stare at his hostess.

She’d visited him every day of ten days till he was strong enough to leave the hospital, and offered him a place till he could decide what next.

Lacy placed the tray on the bed beside him and glanced at the screen of the 14” TV mounted on the wall ahead.

“You are seen as a hero,” she said.

Thomas moaned. “I am no hero.” He wanted truly to be nice to her. But he was here at her mercy.

She lived alone in a condo and though he was yet to ask, he thought she’d improvised her bedroom into a guest room. Whatever the case was, he had no plans of staying with her or in this town. His animal instincts told him to move on.

“It’s not what you say. Several people caught the event on—”

“I know what several people caught, Miss.”

The coffee smelt so good. As soon as she settled him into the room, she’d disappeared, only to return with this. Against his better judgment, he picked a muffin.

“I spoke with Aunt Ann just now.” She smiled. “She sends her love.” She chuckled. “Told me she knew I’d be with you sooner than later.”

“Why would she say that?”

“I don’t know.” She walked to the blinds and peeped. “It gets hotter every day. This weather can’t decide.”

“You told Mrs. Covender your plans to keep me.” He poured coffee.

It was just so American of her to serve him coffee late in the morning, and for him to accept it with gratitude. Though he showed none of it. He realized to his shame he hadn’t told her a single “thank you.”

She half-turned. “Plans to keep you?”

“Do you? Plan to keep me?”

She shook her head. “Who are you? Why did you follow me here?”

It dawned on him he had indeed. Maybe all along the way he’d refused to admit it but he couldn’t hide this anymore. He wanted to find her. He trained his eyes on her, and she stared right back.

“These are nice.” He raised the muffin and took a bite.

Several sips of the delicious coffee, and a giant muffin gone down, he rose.

She took a step toward him. “The doctor said you needed rest.”

“What did Aunt Ann say?” He drawled the old lady’s name. He did need to rest.

The bullet had nearly taken his shoulder off. He was glad to heal so fast. But he was a roamer, a stray dog. He could never stop in this place.

“That you’re a good man. And you will work for any kindness extended to you.”

He laughed, and she smiled. “I would. What kind of work can I do for you?”

“Tell me how you came to be here, and I’d be more than pleased to convert it to rent.”

He stiffened. “I won’t stay here.” He swayed and involuntarily sat on the bed. “This looks like only a room. Did you vacate your space for me? Why?”

“This is a friend’s place. She’s been away since the beginning of spring, and will be till the end of summer. She let me bring you here. At least until she returns.”

Her voice was low. Much as he had no plans to hurt her, he couldn’t do what she wanted. Hang around and—and get attached.

“Who’s Molly?”

His head jerked up, and he glared. How did she know?

“You’d wonder how I had such access to you at the hospital?” She walked to him and a meter away, stopped. Warm, grey eyes stared into his cold blue. “All through the first night, you asked to see Molly. Only Molly. When I got to the hospital in the morning, the nurse asked if I was Molly when I requested to see you. All harried.”

She’d lied?

He snickered. “Seriously?”

She sat beside him. “I may sound silly, but I did this, all of this, going through—being here. I did for Molly. I guess she must be a woman you love dearly.

“When I entered that hospital in the morning, I just wanted to be sure you were fine, and to know if your family had been contacted.”

“You lied to be beside me.”

She fixed her gaze on his chin. “Do you hate me for it?”

Hate her? His throat worked up a nasty comeback but her eyes. Molly’s eyes. They spoke to his soul.

“Molly was my wife. She was killed by a drunken driver eight years ago. A minor, I believe. She was seven months pregnant.”

Lacy did what he least expected. She cupped his face and smiled. “Welcome home.”

 

https://pixabay.com/en/shoe-laces-leather-hiking-974564/

 

 

Author bio:

Sinmisola Ogúnyinka is a pastor’s wife, mother, writer and movie producer. She has a university degree in Economics, and is a Craftsman of Christian Writers’ Guild. She lives with her family in Pretoria, South Africa.

Blog: www.sinmisolao.wordpress.com

Twitter: @sinmisolaog

Categories
Pleasant Rosebud - Romantic Suspense

A STRANGER IN MY HEART (Thomas Garet series)

Local stations went agog with the news. A stranger in town gunned down by Ellicott City resident, Charles Taylor.

Taylor had a history of madness but recently had lived clean for months with his daughter, Charlotte. Many had argued Taylor feigned his condition but different psychologists and psychiatrists who examined him concluded he was mentally ill but could be treated. Since he was discharged more than four months earlier, he had been calm.

Lacy stared at the news from her real estate front office post. “Coulda been anyone,” she muttered.

The crowd scattered around the fallen man while Taylor waved his weapon and cussed. Bold onlookers recorded on their phones and devices. Cops arrived shortly and downed the mad man with a stun gun.

“America is full of angry people.” She turned to her work. But sighed. “Coulda been me. Dear Lord.” She walked that lane every day to her house a couple of blocks away.

What on earth was Charles Taylor doing with a gun? How did someone with a history of mental instability get arms?

Lacy was working late as she did most days but this just made her so miserable. On the average, Ellicott City was safe. She had lived here all her life despite her aunt’s constant prodding to move to Union Bridge.

She looked at the screen ahead again and her jaw sagged. The identity of the victim had been revealed. He was now in the county hospital in the emergency room, alive but in a critical condition, and WBAL 4 had a picture taken from his backpack.

His shaggy dark blond hair looked like a hand just ran through it and he stared at the camera with a tinge of defiance around his mouth, his green eyes bright enough to singe even through the screen.

“Oh dear, he’s here.” Lacy checked the time from her Tinkerbelle silver-strap watch and gasped. It’s 9pm already. She didn’t know she’d stayed so late.

She packed her bags and rushed out of the building.

“Another late night for you, Miss,” Brandon, the night guard waved at her.

“Yes, Brandon. Stay safe. Good night.” She waved down a taxi. She never drove to work. Now she wished she did.

“Good night, Miss Lacy.” He raised his voice. “Are you alright?”

“Will be,” she said before she got into the cab. “County hospital. Thank you.”

A few reporters hung around the parking lot, waiting for more news on Thomas Garet. Will he survive? While in the cab, Lacy listened to a local radio station do an analysis of Taylor’s condition and veered into the gun laws debate.

At the hospital, she went to the reception. “I know the Taylor victim,” she said, breathless. “He is a hiker. I brought him almost to Ellicott City. Is he alive?”

The intern arched her eyebrow and swatted off imaginary strands of her salt and pepper hair from her eyes. “What’s your name please?”

“His name is Thomas Garet.”

“I mean, your name.”

“Oh, Lacy. Lacy Kintley.”

The young lady waved toward the waiting area. “Please wait.”

Three hours later, Lacy finally got hold of one of the doctors on duty, who could give her information on Thomas. He was safe but no one would be allowed to see him till he was strong enough to decide.

“He’s lucky,” Doctor Florand said. “He’s got thick skin.”

Lacy chose to wait till Thomas came out of the OR. She was allowed to peep through a small opening of the door. She murmured a soft prayer for him. He looked so peaceful and she prayed he was.

On her way home in the early hours of the following day, she wondered why he’d come off her car. He knew she was coming here to Ellicott City.

“Lord, please keep Thomas Garet safe. Let him live. I don’t know what happened to him, why he’s so far removed from social warmth but I know he needs you. Give him a chance to find you…”

Lacy opened the door to her one-room condo and for a long time, wept into her hands as she prayed for the stranger who she couldn’t stop thinking about.

 

Author bio:

Sinmisola Ogúnyinka is a pastor’s wife, mother, writer and movie producer. She has a university degree in Economics, and is a Craftsman of Christian Writers’ Guild. She lives with her family in Pretoria, South Africa.

Blog: www.sinmisolao.wordpress.com

Twitter: @sinmisolaog

 

https://pixabay.com/en/shoe-laces-leather-hiking-974564/

Categories
Pleasant Rosebud - Romantic Suspense

DEFENDER (Thomas Garet series)

The Elicott City main street and hub bubbled with activity. People knocking off from work marched up and down in a hurry to catch up with the lives they suspended through the day time.

Thomas leaned against the traffic pole and decided on what next to do. He didn’t imagine the town would be so busy. When he’d gotten to Union Bridge, it had been easy to find accommodation. Here seemed a little different.

A motel would be his last option and he didn’t plan to spend more than a night. The traffic lights changed and cars sped past. It tickled his fancy at the height of discipline the lights mandated from even the worst offender.

He’d taken two days to hike here, refusing help from travelers. The trek helped him to organize his thoughts and put his decision in perspective. It’d been eight years since Molly died with a pregnancy old enough to birth. Seven and a half months… He moved his thoughts away from what should have been. A happy marriage between young people truly in love. He’d named the baby Thomasina. The female version of his name.

The red lights came back on and drivers obeyed like zombies. He squinted. Someday, he might drive again. Driving gave him the creeps after a drunk driver knocked down his wife and Thomasina. She died instantly. A little mercy he was grateful for.

A young woman ran by, bumped into him and dropped a sack. She bent to pick up but a man kicked her in the face. She fell back and butt-ran but she wasn’t fast enough to avoid a second kick on the same spot.

Thomas threw himself between her and the man who was just about his size in build.

“Get out of the way!” the man growled.

Thomas looked back at the woman who tried to rise. She couldn’t be more than twenty.

“She’s just a woman.”

The lights changed and cars sped off. Everyone continued in their way. He seemed to be the only one keen on the fight.

“Woman who do man stuff will be treated like man. Get out of my way.”

The man’s heavy accent drew Thomas’s glance to his face but he was hooded and all he could was catch a glimpse of thick dark eyebrows and darker eyes.

She was now on her feet, and staggered to get her sack just at the side of his feet. Thomas stared at the slight frame of the woman and didn’t see the punch on his nose come. The man hit him hard, and followed it up with a ramming into his midriff. Pain shot into the back of his eyes and he stumbled.

A woman screamed. “He’s got a gun.”

Thomas looked at his assailant. It was pointed at him. He raised his hands above his head.

“No.”

“You never put your mouth where it don’t concern you! Never!”

He never did anyway, and wondered what came over him. He’d avoided bar brawls worse than this.

The woman was gone.

“Look, I’ll go find her for—”

The gun went off. He knew he wasn’t dead because he heard it.

 

Pixabay picture: https://pixabay.com/en/shoe-laces-leather-hiking-974564/

 

Author bio:

Sinmisola Ogúnyinka is a pastor’s wife, mother, writer and movie producer. She has a university degree in Economics, and is a Craftsman of Christian Writers’ Guild. She lives with her family in Pretoria, South Africa.

Blog: www.sinmisolao.wordpress.com

Twitter: @sinmisolaog