For Better or Worse (Book 2 in the Forgiving Hearts Trilogy) (5 page)

“He told Amanda he was in an accident.”

Taryn nodded. “Probably a fire. He has a limp, too.”

“Wow, you were paying attention.”

“In case you didn’t notice, he was the only other man here besides Colton. Enough about Jackson. I’ve got some news for you.”

“I’m almost afraid to hear it.”

“David called me yesterday.”

Laurel’s eyebrows rose. “Is this the same David who shared an apartment with Colton?”

“Yep, same one. He’s living in Valdosta now.”

“I hope he stays there. I don’t want him anywhere near you.”

“He apologized for how he treated me.”

“I’m glad he did the right thing.”

Taryn opened the door to the house. “I never expected him to do it.”

Laurel followed her into the kitchen. “And that was it?”

Taryn shook her head. “He wants to take me out.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him I’d have to think about it.” She stopped and shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Pray about it, Taryn. God will show you what to do.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing.” Childish laughter broke out followed by the deeper tones of Colton. “Let’s go find out what’s so funny.”

Chapter Three

The breeze coming off the ocean toppled the beach umbrella Hannah had planted in the sand. Mitchell caught it before it could blow away. After making sure it was secure, he tugged on the book in her hand.

“I didn’t come here to watch you read.”

Judging by the few pages she’d read, she hadn’t come there to read.
The book had been a form of defense, and it had failed miserably. No printed words were going to keep her from being aware of Mitchell, and he hadn’t even touched her yet. “You must have come to sleep because that’s what you’ve been doing ever since we finished breakfast.”

“I wasn’t actually sleeping. I was resting.”

“Really? You didn’t move a muscle when I tickled your feet.”

He laughed. “I’m sorry. I’ve been in long meetings every day this week. I think it finally caught up with me.”

“I wish I could nap. I never could, not even when I was a little girl.”

His eyes shifted to the water. “The meetings aren’t the only reason I’m tired. I haven’t slept well since you left.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed that,” she said softly.

Mitchell slid the strap of her bathing suit off her shoulder and kissed her warm skin, sending ripples of feeling through her.

“I was giving you time to cool off,” he whispered in her ear. His lips moved to her neck and would have gone all the way to her mouth if she hadn’t turned her head.

Hannah felt her hold on the situation slipping away. “Mitchell, please. There are children next to us not to mention an older couple.”

He skimmed her lips with a lazy finger. “Tell me that you’ve missed me, and I’ll leave you alone – for now.”

She put some distance between them, much to his obvious amusement. “I’ve stayed away from you for two months.”

“It’s actually been nine weeks and two days. Does that tell you anything?”

“What should it tell me?”

“That I love you, among other things. Isn’t that enough?”

“Not anymore,” she replied on a sigh.

“I’m not saying I don’t ever want to get married. I just don’t feel the same urgency you do. We’re good together; why do we need to complicate things?”

Hannah grabbed a handful of sand and let it run slowly through her fingers. “I don’t see marriage as a complication. It’s an extension of what we already feel for each other.”

“A marriage license isn’t going to make me love you any more than I do right now.”

“That’s not what I meant. We’ve done the living together thing. I want to be your wife, Mitchell, and I thought you wanted to be my husband.”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

She turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face. “I don’t know how to believe you.”

He leaned closer and kissed her. “You can start by letting me take you to dinner.”

“Do you have time for that? I thought you were driving back to Atlanta tonight.”

“Only if you insist.”

  * * * *

Jackson spent the afternoon mowing the grass. He was glad to have something to occupy the long hours between church and Hannah’s arrival. Even so, he couldn’t quite contain the anticipation building inside him.

“This isn’t a date or anything close to it,” he told his reflection in the bathroom mirror. “What part of that don’t you understand? You’re just helping a friend.” Shaking his head, he went to clear off the dining room table. He was putting batteries into an old Texas Instruments calculator when he heard the doorbell.

“Hi, there,” Hannah said with a strained smile. “How’s your day been so far?”

“Very productive.” After closing the door, he relieved her of the backpack slung over her shoulder. “Can I fix you something to eat or drink before we get started?”

“No, thanks.”

“I thought we’d use the dining room table.”

“Okay,” she said, following him into the room. After they sat down, she unzipped the backpack and pulled out a book, a wad of paper and a few pencils. “We’re in chapter 5, section 1.1.”

Jackson flipped through the pages until he found the right place. “Let me look through some of this to refresh my memory. I haven’t done algebra in a while.” He looked up after a few minutes. “Now, let me see what you’ve been doing. That will tell me where to start.”

She handed him a crumpled sheet of paper, a sheepish expression on her face. “I got frustrated the other day.”

He laughed as he took it from her and straightened it using the edge of the table. “One thing I see right off is you’re skipping steps. There isn’t a fast way to do this.”

“I hate writing out all that stuff. It takes forever.”

“It’s the only way.” Jackson grabbed a pencil and a clean sheet of paper. “No use in trying to save yours; it’s been erased so much there’s almost a hole in it.”

Hannah slapped at his arm. “Are you making fun of me?”

He smiled widely. “Do you mind?”

“I guess not.”

She reached across him to get a pencil. This action brought her so close to Jackson that he instinctively moved back. Clearing his throat, he said, “In the first one, you did fine until the third line. Then you started getting creative. Here’s what I want you to do instead.” He rewrote the problem and went through it line by line, making sure she understood.

Jackson found it easier to stay focused on math if he didn’t look at Hannah too often. It was bad enough that he could smell her perfume and feel the occasional touch of her fingers. He was more than ready for a break when she finally sat back and closed the book. His pulse rate hadn’t slowed down yet.

“Don’t take this wrong, but I’m glad that’s over,” she admitted. “My head is splitting.”

He laughed inwardly.
Not exactly the reaction he was hoping for.
“I know we covered a lot, but it’ll get easier.”

“Just so you know how bad things are, I made a ‘D’ on the midterm.”

“There’s no reason you can’t get a ‘B’ or even an ‘A’ on the next test.”

She laughed. “That will never happen on my own. I can’t understand anything my teachers says.”

“You no longer have to depend on the teacher; you have me.”

An impish smile came and went on her face. “I’ve acquired a secret weapon.”

“That’s right. We’ve got two more sections to get through. When do you want to meet again?”

“I can’t tomorrow. I’ve got a paper to write for my other class. How about Tuesday night, same time?”

“Works for me.” Jackson would have made himself available even if he had to cancel something else. As he watched her put away the book and papers, he tried to ignore the competing voices in his head. The crazy one was urging him to find a way to extend the evening, anything that would keep her there longer. The rational one that he usually listened to was reminding him not only of Bradley’s existence but of his own very limited role in her life.

“Could I have some water?” she asked. “I’m going to take something for this headache.”

“Sure.” He went into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of water. “I didn’t notice before, but you do look pale. You need to go home and get some sleep.” For a moment, she looked embarrassed and he wondered why.

“Yeah, you’re right.” She swallowed the pills and turned to grab her backpack. “Thanks for letting me come over.”

He didn’t say the words trembling on his tongue. She didn’t want to hear them. “No problem. I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

* * * *

Hannah stared at the column of numbers on the page in front of her. She’d been working on the monthly sales report for over an hour. It usually took her less than twenty minutes.
What was wrong with her?

It didn’t take a genius to figure out her problem.
She hadn’t been the same since Mitchell came to see her.
She’d had almost as many fears as hopes for that visit. In the end, her doubts had been justified, and her dreams were going to remain unfulfilled. On top of that, she’d done something she regretted, something she’d do anything to reverse.

Wasn’t it time to face the truth?
Mitchell wasn’t going to marry her. Their time apart hadn’t softened him, and her resolve to force the issue had resulted in an ever-widening gap between them. The hinges on her door had paid the price for Mitchell’s anger.

She was back where she started – alone with her pride in shreds. Added to this was acute disappointment in her lack of control and a new and disturbing sense of guilt. It had been a long time since Hannah felt more than a twinge of remorse for something she’d done.

Was she actually listening to the conscience she’d virtually ignored for years? Jackson’s words floated through her mind.
You have someone who will forgive every one.
Was she ready to admit that the choices she’d made weren’t the right ones? 

* * * *

Jackson was helping one of his patients navigate the long sidewalk outside the clinic when he felt his phone vibrate. Glancing down, he saw a text from Hannah.

Could I come by earlier tonight? Around six? I’ll bring dinner.

Once his patient was safely on the way, Jackson reached for his phone to answer her.

Six is fine. Please don’t get Chinese. I can’t eat that stuff.

I was thinking more along the lines of barbeque.

With coleslaw and baked beans? I suppose cheese grits are out of the question.

You’re not in Cochran anymore, Jackson.

He laughed as he slipped the phone back into his pocket. Since his last patient of the day cancelled, he decided to finish a few progress notes and head home. He needed to take care of Freya before he showered and made the house presentable.

As he walked through his front door, Jackson remembered his mother’s words about always being prepared for company. If he could be more disciplined about cleaning up, he wouldn’t have a sink full of dirty dishes or a basket of unfolded laundry resting in its usual place of honor on the floor by the couch. If that wasn’t bad enough, Freya’s chew toys were everywhere, and the evidence of his late-night snacking habit was still on the coffee table in the living room. He’d be busy right up until Hannah arrived.

Jackson took care of Freya first. As usual, she was excited to see him. Even after he played with her, she trailed him around the house like a large shadow as he picked up and put things away. The only time she left his side was when he ran the vacuum. After he finished, she rejoined him in his bedroom where he stood surveying the contents of his closet.

“So, what do you think? The blue striped shirt or the black? The red one that I really like shrank two sizes after I left it in the dryer too long. When I put it on, I look like the Hulk bursting out of his clothes. It might work for him, but it makes me feel like I’m in a straitjacket.” He grabbed the blue shirt and slid it over his head. “Should I tuck it in?” After doing so, he bent down and held Freya’s head between his hands. “You like her, don’t you? Yeah, I see that you do. It didn’t take long for you to join the Hannah Grimes fan club.”

After putting Freya in the backyard, Jackson lit a few scented candles in the dining room and sat down on the couch to wait. His stomach was in knots. “Desperate – that’s what you are,” he said aloud to the empty room. “Get a grip, Jackson, or you’re going to make a fool of yourself.”

In the silence that followed his words, the doorbell rang. His heart began to thump painfully as he made his way to the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he took a deep breath and slowly counted to three. Nothing happened – he still felt as uptight as before.
Why did those calming techniques work for everyone but him?
With a sigh, he forced a smile to his face and opened the door.

“You look like you had a rough day,” he said as he lifted the bag of food out of Hannah’s arms.

“It’s not so much fatigue as aggravation.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe later; let’s eat first.”

“I’ll meet you in the dining room after I fix our plates.”

Jackson kept the conversation on general subjects during dinner and even managed to draw a few laughs from her, but nothing could erase the sadness so plainly etched on her features. After they finished eating, he carried the dishes into the kitchen. He didn’t realize Hannah had followed him until her hand slid across his back. Jackson went still as a pleasant warmth spread through him.
If she knew what her touch did to him, she’d run out of the house and never come back.

“I don’t think I ever saw my dad do dishes,” she said into his ear.

He opened the dishwasher, hoping she hadn’t noticed his reaction. “Me, either, but then again, my dad was gone most of the time.”

“He was a truck driver, wasn’t he?”

Jackson nodded as he dried his hands on a towel. “When he
was
home, my mom treated him like the king of the castle. Would you like some coffee? I’ve got decaf.”

Hannah’s lovely eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You drink decaf?”

A boyish smile broke through the solemnity of his expression. “Well, no, but I remembered that you’re avoiding caffeine.”