Forgiving Jackson (36 page)

“Sure you don’t want to go to Colorado with me? Go conquer a mountain?” Gabe asked.

“Not in the conquering mood, Gabriel. You go get it.” They looked at each other like they always did when they knew there was more that ought to be said but they couldn’t find the words. “Do all you can to keep yourself in one piece.”

“I always do.” They gave each other a half hug and Gabe walked toward one of the two SUVs where his guests were waiting. He stopped with his hand on the door handle. “Jackson, if I can do anything … ”

“Yeah, yeah. Just that thing about staying in one piece.” He waved as they pulled away.

Damn, that sun was a bitch. He backed into the shade of the porch and leaned on a column. He had the mother of all headaches and he still had to work out how to get to a better place with Emory. Maybe he should march right into her office and act like nothing had happened.

Yeah, genius.
That
would go over well.
Was there a way he could get her to forgive him without saying he was sorry? He wasn’t one of those people who was opposed to apologizing but he couldn’t take back that he didn’t want her. Knowing her, she’d forgive him and then they’d be right back where they’d started—with him screwing up her life.

Then he had an epiphany.
Yes!

Emory, when I first came back, we were both going through some stuff. We went down a road we shouldn’t have gone down. But we did bond. What we should have been was best friends and that’s what we can be. I wasn’t thinking straight last night. I won’t close down Around the Bend. I won’t make you move it to Firefly Hall. You can stay here and everything will go on like it has been—well, like it should have. I’ll be here. You’ll be here, running the business as you choose, except I might have a few ideas to help you out.

And he’d give her a raise. Perfect. If he gave her what she wanted, she wouldn’t leave. And that would be enough for him. He would just be her friend and never risk her happiness again. True, at one time, he’d thought she should get back to her old life, the one she’d been robbed of. But this was a happy life. She’d be even happier with him leaving her alone.

He frowned. The plan might have a few bugs in it but the basics were sound.
A.
Let her keep Around the Bend the way she wanted.
B.
Get her to stay. He’d worry about the rest of it when he didn’t have a hangover. He was wondering when that might be when his truck pulled up in the circle drive.

Sammy stuck his head out. “I filled it up for you and ran it through the carwash.”

“Thanks, Sammy.”

“Gwen wanted me to run her over to Firefly Hall to pick up her car so I did that while I was out. Was that okay?”

“Sure,” he said idly. “What was Gwen’s SUV doing at Firefly Hall?”

“Emory drove it over there.”

“Why?”

Sammy shrugged. “She spent the night over there last night.”

Aw, hell. He’d better get over there and start making peace.

“Sammy, I need a quick shower. I want you to go down to the big kitchen and make the biggest, sweetest, most jazzed-up iced coffee that you can.”

When he left for Firefly Hall twenty minutes later, Jackson was actually feeling pretty good about things. He’d had a chance to think and she’d had a chance to cool down. Even at first, when he’d been a pain in the ass, she’d been there for him. It was her nature and her nature would not have changed.

Though Jimbo and Martin tried to put themselves between him and the photographers gathered outside the gate at Beauford Bend, he stopped, rolled down his window, and let them take pictures.

“Doing great!” he told them. “Looking forward to spending time with family and traveling
.
” Traveling? Where had that come from? He’d done nothing but travel for fourteen years.

He hesitated at the front door of Firefly Hall. Even though it was a B&B now, he felt odd just walking into Christian’s home. But surprise might work in his favor. He opened the door and stuck his head in. There was a teenage girl vacuuming the Oriental rug in the foyer. If she recognized him, she didn’t show it. Good thing, since he wasn’t anybody anymore. She turned off the machine and smiled.

“Help you?”

“I’m looking for Christian.” That was best. If he asked for Emory directly this girl might start talking about not giving out information about guests.

“They’re in the dining room,” she said and pointed.

Good. He’d tell them both his plan since it concerned Christian. And Christian would be on his side; he was sure of it, even if he had brought only one coffee.

But it turned out that
they
consisted of Christian and Gwen, who were seated at the dining table with their laptops open and a stack of file folders between them. He looked around, like maybe Emory was under the sideboard or behind the drapes.

Christian closed her laptop and rubbed the back of her neck. “Hello, Jackson. I’d offer you coffee but I see you brought your own.” He looked at the cup in his hand and back up again.

“Where’s Emory?”

“Gone,” Gwen said. She looked like she’d been crying. They both did. “Dirk took her to the airport earlier.”

“Airport?”

“Yeah,” Gwen said. “You know the place you go to get on an airplane? There.” Gwen was furious with him. He might have better luck with Christian so he zeroed in on her.

“Where did she go? When is she coming back?”

“New York. And she’s not coming back. She called her old boss, told him what had happened to her, and why she left. He hired her back on the spot. She’s going to stay with a woman she worked with before for a while.”

His feelings went dormant and his senses went into overload. He heard the whirl of the vacuum cleaner, felt the cold condensation on the cup in his hand, smelled some kind of lemony vanilla mixed with coffee, and tasted metal in his mouth. Then his feelings woke up and slammed into his gut. He sat down at the table without being asked.

“And Dirk took her, did he? When does her flight leave?” Maybe if he hurried …

Gwen picked up a stray piece of paper from the table. “12:50.”

“But that’s already passed!”

“True enough.” Turned out Christian didn’t sound too pleased with him either.

“But what about charm school? And the other events? She wouldn’t just go.”

“And exactly what did you think she was going to do, Jackson?” Christian asked. “After you turned that famous irresistible Beauford charm on her and made her feel like she was the most important person in your world, you told her you didn’t love her and never would. You told her that she was no more than a hobby, something that needed fixing.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! That is
not
what I said.”

“Maybe not in so many words,” Gwen said. “But it’s what you meant.”

He had no defense.

“She wouldn’t do this,” he insisted. “She wouldn’t leave Around the Bend in a lurch.”

“She didn’t.” Christian gestured to the papers spread out on the table. “We have her plan. Gwen and I are going to do the best we can until the end of the summer.”

“And then?” he asked.

“There is no
then
, Jackson,” Gwen said. “She canceled everything, starting September first, just like you told her to.”

Gwen picked up a file folder, looked it over, and started to type.

“She must have been pretty mad at me for y’all to be this pissed,” he said.

There might have been a little kindness in Christian’s face when her eyes met his. “No, Jackson. She wasn’t mad at all. That’s why we have to do it for her.”

Gone, back to her real life. Probably for the best.

When he went out, Dirk had his truck blocked in.

He approached and leaned on Dirk’s truck. “Seriously, you think something’s going to happen to me between home and here?”

Dirk shrugged.

“Though your wife is really pissed at me.”

“Can’t do anything about that. She’s the one person I’m not willing to kill for you. Well, besides my kids, but they’re no threat. Not yet.”

“Dirk, there’s no proof that maniac in L.A. was trying to kill me. And even if he was, he’s dead.”

“Your point?”

“Never mind. Emory’s gone.”

“Yeah. I got that when I took her to the airport.”

“When are you going to stop helping people in my life escape from me?”

“I guess when they stop asking me to.”

“It’s for the best.”

“So you say.” Dirk nodded and bit his bottom lip. “Jackson, do you know what post-traumatic stress disorder is?”

“Yes,” he said hesitantly. “It’s when soldiers have flashbacks to war.”

Dirk nodded. “Not just soldiers and not just flashbacks. It can happen to anyone and there’s help for it.”

“Did it happen to you?”

“No. I was lucky. Either that or too damned hardhearted.”

“Do you think it can happen to Beau?”

“Sure it could. Hope not. But we’re not talking about Beau.”

“Your point?”

Dirk shook his head. “You’d think I’d notice stuff sooner. Look, just think about it.”

“Nothing to think about.”

And Jackson drove home with Dirk on his tail the whole way. This time, he did not stop for the reporters.

• • •

It was Ginger who woke him up the next day. He’d never made it to the bed and the television was still on.

“Come in,” he said and prepared himself for an old-fashioned, Old-Testament-style ass-chewing. Oddly, he hadn’t talked to her since the concert. How he’d escaped that, he wasn’t sure. He could hear it now.
What were you thinking? Do you want to ruin your career completely? Could you not have told me? Have I not earned that?

But she didn’t say any of that.

“I came to tell you I’m leaving,” she said.

Another desertion. Though, who could blame her?

“Do you want to sit down?”

“No. Sammy’s waiting for me.”

“Okay. Have a good trip. Use the plane if you like.”

She shook her head. “I booked a flight. Don’t you want to know why I’m going?”

“I can guess.”

“I doubt it. I saw a doctor yesterday. I’m not healing as I should. I’m doing too much and under too much stress.”

Her face was white, had been for days. So here was another person he couldn’t take care of. Worse, he hadn’t even asked.

“So I’m going back to Aruba and I really am going to rest this time. I called my cousin. She and her daughter are going to come down. We’re just going to lie on the beach.”

“Good. That’s what I want you to do.”

She looked into his face for a long moment. “Jackson, I’m not abandoning you. I have to go get well.”

“I know that.” Besides, there was nothing here for her anymore.

“Why don’t you come with me? After all, you paid the rent. If you will, I’ll call Lisa and tell her not to come.”

Leave the place where Emory might come back, where she knew to find him? Unthinkable.

“No. I’m not much for the beach.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

He gave her an awkward hug. “Have a good trip.”

Beauford Bend was a tomb—a tomb with twenty noisy teenage girls running amok from early morning until bedtime, but a tomb nonetheless.

Jackson didn’t plan to start spending most of his time in the carriage house; he’d only gone down there to look for his favorite sunglasses but her smell was there and he wondered if he lay on the sheets they’d slept on, if he might be able to take a nap. He was sleeping less and less and the dreams were getting worse.

Three hours later, he woke up rested, without having dreamed. He was determined not to become some kind of sappy romantic comedy actor who clung to his lost love’s favorite sweater or ran his fingers over the little bottles and jars on her dresser, but he liked knowing that stuff was there.

Anyway, he’d never seen her in a sweater. People didn’t wear sweaters in the summer in the South.

He definitely was not living at the carriage house; that would have been crazy. He went back to his rooms at night to watch movies and try to sleep. But then he’d drift down there and take a nap. On the fourth day of this, he woke up hungry but found he’d already eaten all the cereal bars, popcorn, and cheese.

Gwen had ceased to care if he had anything to eat and Sammy was too busy helping with charm school to do much. He looked out the window. They’d been playing lawn games earlier but now they were in the rose arbor having a picnic. Christian and Gwen were standing before them talking, probably laying down the law about how a young lady ought to conduct herself while dining alfresco.

They were all dressed up, wearing hats.

Emory ought to be here teaching them how to hold their forks, dance, and smile—smile amazing smiles that would make a man go weak and strong all at the same time and know there was no other smile like that in the world.

But could you teach that? Maybe not. But the fork holding and dancing, definitely. And Emory ought to be doing it.

His stomach rumbled. If he went the long way around and through the family wing, he could get up to the kitchen in the big house without being seen.

He entered through the side door and found the same woman and man Gwen had hired to help during Gabe’s visit. They were putting little sandwiches and cookies in storage containers.

“Hi,” he said.

They whirled around and their mouths gaped open.

“Do y’all have anything I can eat?”

The guy recovered first. “Certainly, Mr. Beauford. We can fix anything you’d like—depending on what we have available, of course. We have some nice salmon and there are some steaks.”

“No, nothing like that.” He looked at the sandwiches. “Can I just have a couple of those? What is it? Pimento cheese?”

The woman nodded. “And chicken salad and cream cheese with olives. Would you like us to make you a plate with an assortment and serve it in the dining room?”

“Don’t go to that trouble. I’ll just grab a few.” He reached in, got a handful, and leaned against the stove to eat them.

“Would you like something to drink?” the guy asked.

“Glass of milk would be great.”

Just then Julie came tearing out of the pantry.

“Uncle Jack! Sing!” She tackled him around the knees.