Catching Serenity (30 page)

“
How did Gus find out?”

“
He’d been cleaning around the locker room one day and found evidence. When he calmed down a little, he fell onto the bench beside me and asked me point-blank about it. I broke down and confessed everything. Then the other players made up a pack of outright lies and got Gus fired.” That last part came out almost a growl and Jackson’s eyes sparked with anger. “I wanted to defend Gus to the school board and tell them about the drugs, but Gus convinced me it wasn’t worth it, and intimated the other coaches knew about it but were willing to cover it up. He told me to stop doing the drugs, pray about it and let God handle the rest.” He shrugged. “So, I did. To this day, I still wonder if it was the right decision. A few like me got drafted into the NFL, some suffered career-threatening injuries, others got fed up with the relentless pace or left for other reasons.”

Jackson
lowered his head to his hands. When he raised his head a few seconds later, his eyes shimmered with raw emotion. “My parents weren’t perfect, but they raised me better than to stoop to using an artificial crutch to be a better football player. I not only shamed myself, but I shamed them, the team, everyone. At the time, I was one of those holiday churchgoers and didn’t have any kind of personal relationship with the Lord. No two ways about it, I was not only a sinner, but I was a coward.” His voice took on a defiant tone, and he shook his head. “I should have marched into the school board meeting and told them about the drugs. But I took the easy way out. Gus knew I wanted to play professional ball, and he told me I wouldn’t stand a chance if I blew the scandal wide open.”

“
So, then what happened? If you feel like talking about it.”

“
Long story short, I cleaned up and never touched another drug and by the grace of God had a great final college season and got drafted by the Bears. To this day, I think Gus had something to do with it but he’d never admit it. Helen winked at me at graduation, and that’s when I knew in here.” Curling his fist, Jackson thumped it on his chest. “I started training camp and passed, got my uniform and started all the preseason rookie publicity stuff and then decided I couldn’t do it.”

Serenity turned to face him, sitting cross-legged on the grass.
“Couldn’t do...what?”

“
The whole thing. I wanted more from my life, but I wanted to
do
more with my life. I wanted to make a difference to someone like Gus made in mine, I guess. I thought about coaching, but knew that wasn’t it, either. So, I quit the team and joined up with the Army and shipped off to Afghanistan as soon as I finished my leadership training.”

Her jaw gaped and she couldn
’t speak. She motioned for him to continue.

“
I was a little long in the tooth since most of the kids were barely old enough to shave. All the physical conditioning I’d done in the past paid off and I rose quickly in the ranks and earned a modicum of respect from my superiors, at least in terms of my willingness to follow orders and pay them due respect. As much as anything, I learned from Gus to respect others, no matter their weaknesses, and to appreciate their strengths. Long story short, one morning I was in a jeep with a couple of my commanding officers and we were attacked by an IED.”

“
Oh, no,” Serenity said, grabbing his hand. “Is that how your knee—”

“
Yeah. I know you’ve noticed the scar but were too polite to ask.”

“
It looks painful, and I didn’t want to bring up anything hurtful. You were in enough pain.”

Taking her hand, Jackson guided it to his kne
e with an unspoken invitation in those soulful eyes. Serenity ran a light finger along the length of the scar—running jagged and horizontal across his right knee—lighter than the tanned skin around it. As she’d done before, she bent and planted a soft kiss on his heated skin.

“
It’s not the actual scar that hurts, you know.” His voice was as quiet as she’d ever heard it and brimming with emotion. “One of the guys, Damon Marshall, lost the bottom portion of his right leg. He came back home and decided three days later he couldn’t cope with life as an amputee. So he waited until his wife went to the grocery, fashioned a noose out of bed sheets and made her a widow.”

She gasped.
“That’s horrible! I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.” Lacing her fingers through his, Serenity leaned her head on his shoulder.

The Purple Heart.
“Jackson, when I went into the bedroom at Doc Rasmussen’s to get your pillows, there was a Purple Heart medallion on the dresser. I wasn’t being nosy, but the sunlight caught it. I wanted to see what it was. When I realized what I held in my hands, I assumed it belonged to Doc since he’d served in the military. I remember thinking how—being born and raised in Croisette Shores—I should have heard about it.” She touched Jackson’s jaw, turning his face toward her. “The Purple Heart belongs to you, doesn’t it?”

He nudged her shoulder.
“You’re finding out all my secrets today.”

“
Why should something so honorable be kept a secret?”

“
Because I might have saved Damon’s life, but I didn’t save his soul.”

His statement stirred her anger.
“I know I haven’t been a Christian long, but from what I know, that’s not
your
responsibility. Damon was responsible for his own eternal security or whatever. Not you.”

“
But neither did I share the gospel with him. I dragged Damon and Sean out of the jeep and tended to their wounds. I prayed the whole time, but I didn’t ask them to pray with me.”

“
How do you know they didn’t pray in their hearts? I mean, if you were laying there with half your leg gone like Damon, or bleeding profusely like Sean probably was, would
you
be in any conscious frame of mind to do anything?” She caught his look. “You can’t take on the wounds of the world, Jackson. You did what you could. I might not know much about the Purple Heart, but it’s an honor you earn not only for being brave, but doing something selfless and heroic and being wounded in the process.”

Sitting up on her knees, Serenity
cradled his face—hot, sweaty and with a couple of dirt smudges on his cheek, but the most handsome face she’d ever seen. “What happened?”

“
We were on the fringe of a roadside bomb, close enough yet just far enough away. Flying shrapnel showered the Jeep, but trust me, I suffered the least. I was driving and”—he paused and his eyes were wet—“the officers were in the backseat.”

“
What happened to Sean? Where is he now?”

“
He’s had several reconstructive surgeries on the right side of his face and he’ll never walk again without a serious limp, but he’s home in Tennessee with his wife and kids. He’s
alive.
I talked to him last week. He’s doing well and owns an express delivery company in Nashville.” Jackson stared straight ahead and blew out another sigh. “Remember that napkin I told you about? The one where Gus laid out the plan of salvation?” He waited until she nodded before continuing.

“
Believe it or not, I still have it to remind me how low I’d sunk and how Christ lifted me up from the literal muck and mire of my sin.” He rubbed his fingers over his chin. “There’s something about lying face down in the mud with a 200-pound linebacker on top of you to make you face your spiritual condition. Then sprawled on the ground and watching your commanding officers almost bleed to death, grown men screaming for help, that makes you realize how small and helpless you are in the universe. And makes you realize something else.” Shifting his body, Jackson turned toward her.

“
What’s that?” She’d never been more aware of him.

“
How important it is to have someone in your life to care about and that hopefully cares about you.” Warm chocolate eyes melted into hers, then swept down to her lips. As Serenity sank onto the ground beside him again, Jackson leaned over her, all six-foot-three of masculinity affecting her in untold ways as his face hovered inches away from her and the air slowly drained from her lungs. She couldn’t breathe but didn’t care. His smile—slow and easy—inched its way further into her heart, softening and opening it even more. With the softest touch imaginable, Jackson brushed his thumb across her lower lip. “Pretend I’m smearing dirt there, beautiful pretty. And if I did
that
, care to guess what I’d do next?”

Cupping his face between her palms
again, Serenity drew him close and planted a sweet, soft, lingering kiss on his lips. “Something like that?” she whispered, her own voice raspy.

“
Exactly.”

~
CHAPTER 32~

Mrs. Johnson and Justin stopped by unexpectedly on Wednesday morning and asked if Jackson could meet with them. What a pleasant surprise. Must be a God thing, especially since he’d met with them the day before and his schedule was free. Maybe she, too, was finally growing anxious and wanted to move this process along at a faster pace.

“Justin, what’s your favorite fruit?”

“
Bananas. I like to eat them with peanut butter. On bread. Like a sandwich.”

Jackson tried not to stare.
Hadn’t Serenity mentioned liking peanut butter and banana sandwiches, too? His pulse raced at an almost uncontrollable level and he could feel the sweat already beading on his brow. Clearing his throat, he dug deep to find his voice. “Why don’t we ask your grandmother about
her
favorite fruit?”

Even with the glasses, the set of Mrs. Johnson
’s jaw and the firm line of her lips conveyed she wasn’t happy with the current line of questioning. “I hardly see why that matters.”

“
Nana likes pears,” Justin said, giggling. “She says they make her happy.”

Jackson reeled back in his chair as though he
’d been slapped. Surely his cheeks burned as though he’d been physically struck.
Lord, is it possible?
How can it be?
Too many things were adding up now. “Is that right?” He wasn’t sure how he choked out the question, but never in his life had he struggled so hard to maintain his calm and sense of decorum. Certainly nothing in his training could have prepared him for the growing suspicions forming in his mind. The similarities between what he knew of Elise McClaren and Violet Johnson, and what they’d said about Justin’s mother in comparison to what he knew of Serenity, were uncanny. No way could every one of them be explained as coincidence. Jackson moved his gaze to Mrs. Johnson. Everything in him wanted to blast her with questions and demand answers. The muscles in his jaws flexed so hard he thought surely they’d snap.

He forced another question. Anything to keep the conversation flowing.
“Why don’t we talk more about your mommy today, Justin. Is that okay with you?”

“
Yep.” The boy started swinging his legs.

From the corner of his eye, Jackson noticed Mrs. Johnson reaching for a tissue and dabbing at her eyes from beneath the sunglasses. He
’d started conjuring ideas about how to get them off the woman, but so far he’d come up with no viable plan. “Once you meet her, what kinds of things do you want to do with her?”

Justin
pondered the question, the only sound the ticking of the wall clock. “I hope she can teach me to ride a bike, and read Dr. Seuss with me. I’d really like to get a puppy.” He darted a glance at Mrs. Johnson. “Do you think she’ll let me have a puppy?”

“
We’ll have to ask her, and make sure you’re not allergic since you’ve never had a pet before.”

Justin scrunched his nose and cocked his head to one side.
“What’s
lergic
mean?”

“
It means something you eat—or something you’re around—makes you sneeze or break out in hives. Your throat might feel scratchy. Like from the inside out,” Jackson said. “What else would you like to do with your mommy?”

“
Maybe she can buy me a backpack and walk me to school. Or I can ride a bus like the big kids.”

“
You’d like that, huh?” Jackson smiled.

The mop of curls bounced as
Justin nodded in an exaggerated manner. “I think so. Never done it before.” He frowned for only a second before brightening, his ready smile never far away. “She can make me peanut butter and banana sandwiches to take to school for lunch.”

“
A lot of schools won’t let you take peanut butter to school, honey.”

“
Why not?”

Jackson cleared his throat.
“It has something to do with that
lergic
thing. A lot of kids can’t eat peanut butter or be around it.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Justin shook his head and slumped against the back of the chair.
“Then she can make them for me to eat at home. Can I take my gummi worms to school? Are people
lergic
to gummis?”

Both Jackson and Mrs. Johnson
smiled. “I don’t think so,” he assured him.

“
I made a card for my mommy.” When he darted a glance at Mrs. Johnson, she reached into the outside pocket of her purse and pulled out a bright yellow piece of folded construction paper. When Justin bounded out of his chair, she handed it to him.

It was difficult to maintain his composure as
Jackson studied the drawing of a small boy with curly hair walking beside a taller figure, a woman by the high heels and long hair. He’d drawn a large, red heart on the woman and drawn a line from her heart to the general area of the child’s heart.

“
What does this mean?” Turning the card around, Jackson held up the card and pointed to the line connecting the two figures.

“
My mommy and me are connected.”

Jackson swallowed hard.
“Do you feel connected to your mommy
now
, Justin?”

The brown eyes grew wider and he looked over at
his grandmother. She nodded. “It’s okay. Tell Dr. Ross how you feel. He’s here to help you.”

Justin kicked his legs back and forth again and rubbed his hands up and down the arms of the chair. Finally, he shrugged.
“I don’t know.”

Jackson smiled to reassure him.
“That’s a very honest answer and I’m glad you told me how you feel. I know you might not understand some things until you meet your mother.” He glanced at Mrs. Johnson.

She shook her head.
“Not yet. Soon.” Something about her slight smile struck him as familiar.
Serenity
familiar. His pulse pounded, his head throbbed.

Jackson nodded, forcing another smile. Justin saved him for the moment.
“Maybe you can go with me when I meet my mommy, Doc Jack. You can tell her how we’re connected.”

Mrs. Johnson spoke up.
“I think she’ll know, Justin.”

He
stopped swinging his legs and looked over at her, his brows raised. “How?”

“
She’ll know.” Curling her fist, she placed it over her chest. “In here. A mommy always knows her child.” Judging by the unusual and unexpected emotion in her shaky voice, and the tautness of her drawn lips, Jackson wondered if tears might be in those eyes hidden from his view. Sure enough, she raised the tissue and dabbed behind those infernal glasses.

“
I’ll take my gummi worms when I meet her. Do you think she’ll like that?”

Jackson swallowed hard.
“I think she’ll love them, especially because they came from you.”

Uncrossing her legs,
Mrs. Johnson rose to her feet. “Justin, we should leave now.”

Had the woman read his thoughts?
He wasn’t very good at masking his emotions. As it was, saying good night to Serenity the night before had been tortuous enough. So, like the coward he was, he’d taken off before he either told her everything he’d discovered or kissed her until the morning. That kiss under the tree on the church grounds, of all places, had been incredible. But like a greedy man, he’d wanted more. Craved more. But he didn’t take more, neither did she offer. And it was enough. For now.

Still, it would be
increasingly difficult to be around Serenity and not want to take her in his arms. Surely she knew how he felt. To his detriment, he’d always been obvious with his feelings for a woman. Finding her answers and then figuring out how to tell her without jeopardizing his practice was the best way to meet that goal.

Focus.
“You still have ten minutes left in your session,” Jackson said, keeping his tone as even as possible. As it was, Justin eyed him. The boy was smart and missed very little. Revealing he was upset in front of the child wasn’t good.

“
Justin, you have a birthday coming up soon, don’t you?” They’d talked about it during the last session.

That brought back the
child’s easy smile and he nodded. “Nana’s taking me to the beach.”

Jackson swallowed.
“It’s Friday, isn’t it?”

“
Yep. We’ll make sand castles and play in the waves. I’m supposed to meet someone.”

If he knew nothing else, Jackson knew he
’d be on the beach on Friday morning.

Serenity
’s mother took her to the beach on Friday mornings.

“
Come on, honey.” By this time, Mrs. Johnson was already by the door, one hand on the doorknob, ready to take flight. He’d unnerved her. For once, Jackson understood what wanting to jump out of your skin meant.

Justin scrambled down from the chair.
“Bye, Doc Jack.”

“
Here, take the whole bag of cherry gummis. Call it a birthday present. I trust it’s okay that Justin takes them since he likes the cherry ones so much…Mrs. Johnson?”

She nodded,
and it was slow and methodical. He’d love nothing more than to yank those sunglasses away from her face and blast her with questions. If this
was
Serenity’s mother, was it possible that Justin was Liam? The enormity of it threatened to overwhelm him. At the moment, he couldn’t begin to wrap his head around such a concept. Everything he’d heard about Elise McClaren was positive—how loving she was, how kind, how protective...

“
My mommy likes the red ones best, too,” Justin said, pulling one from the bag and slurping it into his mouth. In a way, it was good to see him act like a normal kid enjoying a treat. He giggled and looked up at his grandmother. “Nana told me.”

Without another word, Mrs. Johnson put a hand on
her grandson’s shoulder and steered him toward the outer office. The set of her jaw, the lift of her chin and shoulders...the same mannerisms mirrored in Serenity. He’d spent enough time with her to recognize them.
Why haven’t I seen this before, Lord?

All the things they
’d said about the boy’s mother, every last one of them, added up to a woman fitting Serenity’s description. After this session, he could add the love of banana and peanut butter sandwiches. Combined with the love of that Mozart symphony, the cherry gummi worms, the honeysuckle...
everything
. He didn’t need to look at any list.

Jackson rose from his chair and
quickly crossed the room, reaching the outer office as Justin and his grandmother departed out the front door. “Justin? Who are you supposed to meet at the beach on your birthday?”

Stopping,
he gave him a curious glance. “Grandpa.”

A chill ran through
him as Jackson lifted his hand in a feeble attempt at a wave.

“
She didn’t make another appointment,” Audra said, pausing when she saw his face. “Are you okay, Dr. Ross? You look really pale. Kind of like you just saw a ghost.”

“
I think I might have, in a manner of speaking,” Jackson said, half-stumbling back into his office. Closing the door—being careful not to shove it hard although he wanted to slam it in his frustration—he paced back and forth, immensely thankful he was free the rest of the afternoon. Glancing up at the cross behind his desk, Jackson fell to his knees. “Okay, this won’t work,” he said a few seconds later, pushing himself off the floor when his knee throbbed. His appointment with the orthopedic surgeon couldn’t come soon enough. Stumbling to the chair—the one usually occupied by Mrs. Johnson—he dropped into it. With his elbows balanced on his thighs, he buried his head in his hands.

Jackson’s shoulders heaved with the force of his breathing as he dragged his fingers through his hair. Through all the sports practices and games in his life, he’d never hyperventilated, but he was pretty close to it now. Jackson suppressed the groan stirring in the inner core of his being. If Audra weren’t right outside the door, he’d release his frustration full force. Roar like a lion. He couldn’t even put a name to what he was feeling, but the one thing he
did
know? If ever he needed the Lord beside him, it was now. In this very moment.