The Pursuit of Jesse (18 page)

Still, a small part of him, the part that still held a scrap of self-respect, came to life. He dragged his shirt back over his head and stood. “You kissed me first, remember?”

“I know. I did.” She glanced away as if she couldn’t bear to hold his gaze. “But every time you look at me, it’s as if you’re touching me. Your eyes skate over my face, my lips, my skin like a featherlight touch. Whether you’re inches away or across a room, I can…feel you. Undressing me. Wanting me.”

The way he wanted her now.

“Just finish my house, Jesse, okay? That’s all I need from you,” she whispered as she walked out the door. “All I will ever let myself want from you.”

O
NE OF THE BENEFITS
to living in the Midwest as far as Jesse was concerned was the change of the season, and spring had long been his favorite. The island had completely come back to life after the long, cold winter, and Jesse finally understood why the residents so loved this little chunk of rock, as he’d once thought of it.

The scent of lilacs and Russian olive trees in the air. Cool breezes coming in off Lake Superior. The quaintness of horse-drawn carriages clip-clopping over cobblestone. Most importantly, there was a certain comfort in knowing—not necessarily liking—every person he met on the street. Somehow the judgmental glares from people like Shirley Gilbert and Mary Miller were easier to tolerate given the welcoming conversation of the likes of Bob and Marsha Henderson and Charlotte Day.

As soon as it got warm enough, Jesse enlisted Garrett’s help and they replaced Sarah’s roof before the spring rains had a chance to set in. Then, given the interior of Sarah’s house was nearly finished, he helped Garrett put in a large deck spanning the entire lakeshore side of Duffy’s Pub.

One increasingly warmer day flowed into the next and before Jesse knew it, all he had left to do was the fireplace and finish the drywall and molding in one of
the bedrooms before he could move on to the exterior, replacing a few windows and painting.

As his stash of traveling cash grew, he realized he’d reached the point that he could leave Mirabelle and never look back. He had enough money banked to get far, far away from this island and start a new life someplace else. As soon as he finished Sarah’s house, that’s exactly what he was going to do.

Oddly enough, Sarah had taken to bringing him dinner at her house on a relatively regular basis. It wasn’t Erica fare, by any means, but it meant something to him, something he wasn’t sure he wanted to understand. He had no clue what was going on between the two of them, but he was doing his utmost best to keep a distance.

Sarah, on the other hand, seemed confused. One minute she could be as cold as ice and the next as warm as sunshine. One minute she’d be standing next to him, talking and laughing as they worked together, and the next she wouldn’t come within three feet of him.

Today was one of those good nights, one of those times when sharing her company was as easy as slipping off to sleep after a fifteen-hour workday. They’d been taping the drywall in the last bedroom and sanding to finish.

“That’s pretty good,” Jesse said, reaching over her shoulder and running his hand across the surface. “But you need to remember that a coat of paint has a way of bringing out every imperfection in the surface of a wall. You want it as smooth as a baby’s bottom.”

Sarah laughed as she turned to look up at him. “You touch that wall as if it was alive.”

“Maybe it is, in a way.” He looked down at her and wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a more beautiful sight.
Her hair. Her cheeks. Her shoulders. She was covered in drywall dust and he wanted nothing more in that moment than to lay her back and make love to her. “Like a woman.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Laughing, she spun away from him. “We still have a lot of work to—”

A knock sounded on the front door.

“I wonder who that is,” she said, walking down the hall. “Brian’s at Zach’s.”

Jesse got ready to sand the next sections. He heard Sarah’s footsteps come back down the hall.

“Jesse?” she said. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“I’m right in the middle of this.” Not to mention covered head to toe in plaster dust. “Who is it?”

“I think you just need to come.”

At the odd sound of her voice, he turned. A shadow of concern had passed over her features. “What’s the matter?” He shut off the sander and climbed down the ladder. Then he removed his mask and walked into the hall. Garrett was at the front door, standing next to—

Jesse stopped in his tracks. He swallowed, then felt the back of his neck twinge with foreboding. “Hello, Jesse.”

Jesse took a couple steps, his feet feeling weighted in concrete. “Hello, Hank.”

Hank Bowman, the man Jesse had just about killed that night he’d driven drunk and fallen asleep at the wheel of his truck, reached out from where he sat in his wheelchair to shake Jesse’s hand.

Jesse hesitated. Quickly, he rubbed his dirty palm down the front of his pants, trying to remove as much grime as he could before shaking the other man’s hand. “Sorry. Been drywalling. Did you meet Sarah?”

“I did.” Hank smiled at her. “This is your house, Sarah?”

She nodded.

“And Jesse’s helping to remodel it?”

“He’s doing it all. I just help out here and there. Painting. Sanding.”

Hank glanced around. “Looks pretty good.”

“The interior is almost finished, but there’s still a lot to do outside,” Jesse said. “How did you—”

“I stopped at the police station, thinking someone there would be able to help me find you.” He glanced back at Garrett. “Didn’t know your brother was the chief of police. He pushed me up the hill. I hope that’s okay.”

“That’s fine. Thanks, Garrett.”

“Well, I’ve got a meeting in a few minutes at my office,” Garrett said. “So I’ve got to head back. Call me if you need anything.”

Jesse nodded as Garrett disappeared back through the front door.

“Maybe I should…go, too,” Sarah offered.

“It’s all right with me if you stay,” Hank said. “But that’s really up to Jesse.”

Jesse glanced at Sarah. He had no clue why Hank was here or what he might want from Jesse, but like it or not, he and Sarah had become friends. He was surprised by how much he wanted her to stay. “I have no secrets from Sarah.”

Hank smiled at her. “That’s good. Everyone needs someone.”

Jesse pulled a chair from the kitchen out into the living area for Sarah. “Would you like something to drink, Hank?”

“Water’s fine.”

“I’ll get it,” Sarah said as Jesse brought a step stool over for himself.

He sat down and held Hank’s gaze, waiting, wondering.

“So…how have you been?” Hank asked.

“Good. I’ve been living here with my brother, working on Sarah’s house since I got out in January.”

“That’s what I’ve heard. I’m glad.”

“And you?”

“Doing good. Really, really good.”

Not exactly what Jesse had expected to hear and relief momentarily flooded his senses. Hank did look healthy. Natural color had returned to his cheeks. Although his legs looked as if they’d atrophied a bit, his arms and chest looked strong. Those muscles hadn’t come from pushing himself around in that chair. He’d clearly been lifting weights.

“In fact,” Hank went on, smiling, “I got some great news last week. There’s a specialist out at John Hopkins that agreed to take a look at my records. He’s not making any guarantees, but there’s a very slight possibility I might walk again.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Well, I’m not going to hold my breath, but I’m not giving up, either.”

Sarah set a glass of ice water on a toolbox sitting next to Hank.

“Thank you, Sarah.”

“No problem. We’ve got some cookies. Or some fruit.”

“No, thank you.” He smiled at Sarah and then glanced back at Jesse. “My third book will be out in a couple months.”

“Another self-help-type book?”

“Yeah. Sales have been going well, creating a lot of speaking engagements.” He paused and smiled. “It’s funny, although I sometimes miss my old life, I’m enjoying this new venture. It’s been an interesting challenge.”

“You’ve made lemonade out of some very sour lemons.”

“Guess you could say that.” He looked away. “I’m not going to lie to you. Some days are better than others. Then there are some days when I’m not sure I want to get out of bed.”

Jesse swallowed, but he forced himself to hold Hank’s gaze. A part of him desperately wanted to reach out for Sarah’s hand. Instead, he crossed his arms and braced himself for what would most assuredly be an onslaught of blame and anger. Resentment. He deserved no less. The least he could do was sit here and take it. “I’m sorry, Han—”

“No, Jesse. No. That’s not why I came here. You’ve apologized in every possible way. There’s nothing more you can say. I am sorry for showing up unannounced today. I would’ve called to let you know I was coming, but I figured it best to just show up and say what I have to say face-to-face.” Hank took a sip of water. “I know this is going to seem rather sudden, but I have a proposition for you.”

“Whatever you want or need, I’ll do what I can.”

“I appreciate that, but this is…ah…above and beyond, so I think it best if you give it some thought before you decide one way or another.”

“All right.” Jesse held his breath, waiting.

“I’ve been speaking to first-offender groups,” Hank explained. “You know. People who’ve gotten their first DWIs or DUIs and as a part of their sentence they’re
required to sit and listen through an impact seminar. Speeches and such, given by people affected by the accidents caused by DUIs.”

Jesse swallowed. He’d been to a few himself as a part of his sentence.

“I think they make a difference,” Hank continued. “Sometimes, anyway. When I heard you’d gotten out of prison, this idea started niggling at me for how to make a bigger impact on people.”

Sarah shifted uncomfortably and Jesse glanced at her. She was upset. For him. He reached out to squeeze her arm and he was surprised to find tears pooling in her eyes. So much emotion in her face, he could hardly stand it.

Hank ran a calloused hand through his hair. “I was wondering—hoping, actually—if you’d consider doing these impact seminars with me.”

“
With
you?” Jesse asked, dumbfounded.

“Yeah.” Hank nodded. “I think…ah…I think the two of us together would make quite a statement. A much more powerful statement than me being up there all alone.”

Jesse tried to imagine standing up in front of a crowd next to Hank in his wheelchair. He couldn’t. “Why would you want to do this? Why would you ever want to stand next to me in front of a group like that? Hell, for that matter, Hank, how can you be in the same room with me now? How can you not hate me? You must hate me.”

“No, I don’t hate you,” Hank said. “At least not now. Don’t get me wrong. In the beginning I spent a lot of months despising you. There were times when I laid in that hospital bed or was going through painful physical therapy when I wished you…quite literally…dead.” He
paused. “Most of the time, though, I just wanted to get my hands on your back, snap your spine, so you could experience what I’ve gone through.”

“There would have been some justice in that,” Jesse muttered.

“No. There’s no justice in revenge,” Hank said. “And a man can only stomach so much hate before it turns on him. Starts to eat him up inside. One day in physical therapy it dawned on me that the only way I was ever going to be able to move on from that accident, the only way I was ever going to stop letting that accident define me and my life, was by…forgiving you.”

How could Hank forgive Jesse when Jesse couldn’t even forgive himself?

“You made a mistake, Jesse. A bad one. We’ve both paid a high price for it. Life is never fair, but it can be just, and justice was served when you went to prison.”

Jesse hopped up and paced.

“I think—I hope—you’re a better man today than you were four years ago. That’s what matters—”

“What about you? Your life will never be the same.”

“You’re right.” He nodded. “Everything changed for me that night. I’m not trying to suggest that I wouldn’t go back in time in a heartbeat if I could and keep this from happening to me. To us. But I can’t. I don’t want to keep living in the past. I want to move beyond the accident and the only way I can do that completely is if you move beyond it with me.”

Jesse turned away and ran his hands over his face.

“I’m not talking about forgetting it ever happened,” Hank went on. “Neither one of us will ever be able to do that. I’m talking about turning something bad,
something horrendous and painful, into something positive. Turning something destructive into something constructive. You and I standing together have the ability to make a difference in this world. If we can connect with those DUI offenders. If we can make even one of them see the danger in their behavior, we just might save a life. ’Course we’ll never know in fact what kind of impact we’ll have. But we’ll know in our hearts we did our best.”

Jesse turned back and held Hank’s gaze. He wanted Jesse to stand up in front of a crowd, look them in the eye, and admit that he’d driven drunk and it’d caused a man to lose his ability to walk. Could Jesse suck it up and do that?

“The next seminar I’ll be speaking at is a couple weeks from now,” Hank said, setting his glass back down on the box. “It’s at the community center in Ashland. Starts at 7:00 p.m. I’ll email you the details. If you don’t come…I’ll understand. You are not, for one moment, obligated to do this. You’ve done your time. Justice has been served. But justice, I’ve discovered, doesn’t always heal the wounds.”

Jesse looked away.

“My wounds, inside and out, are on the mend,” Hank whispered. “What about yours?”

F
OR MORE THAN A WEEK
, Jesse had refused to talk with Sarah about Hank Bowman’s visit, let alone the proposal Hank had laid out and presumably followed up with emails. Sarah was at a loss as to how to reach Jesse. He’d become a friend, and seeing a friend implode right in front of her didn’t sit well.

Since Hank’s visit, Jesse had immersed himself in finishing Sarah’s house. He was several days ahead of schedule, but the bounce had gone out of his step, the smile had been wiped from his face, and that mischievous glint in his eyes had been doused.

The work on the house, on the other hand, had been going well. Jesse had taken advantage of several warm, dry days and had replaced a couple rotting windows and started painting the entire exterior. All that was left to do on the interior was the fireplace and, finally, the installation of new carpeting. The house was ready for Sarah and Brian to start moving in a few of their things.

Rather than move everything in one fell swoop, Sarah planned on taking things over in chunks and leaving all of her and Brian’s essentials in the apartment until the end. She wanted everything perfectly arranged by the time they started actually living in the house.

Driving a golf cart, she moved the first of the many boxes ready to go into storage in the basement—these
were holiday decorations—from the apartment to the house. She was so excited she could barely catch her breath.

She maneuvered the cart up to the house, carried the boxes down into the basement and came back upstairs. Several bags of cement mix were stacked onto the porch along with trowels and a wheelbarrow. Jesse was getting ready to lay the fireplace stones.

She would’ve been excited if not for the fact that Jesse, after Hank’s visit, had thrown himself into work like a madman. At his current pace, he would’ve ended up more than two weeks ahead of schedule had he not tackled the fireplace project and helped Garrett build the deck at Duffy’s.

In one day, he’d already removed the old brick surround, set the wood mantel aside and prepped the surface around the fireplace with some type of wiring, presumably to hold the cement. He’d also pounded some type of metal support posts into the wall studs. Most likely these would support the heavy rock.

Rather than being pleased at the progress with her house, Sarah was worried about Jesse. She’d been watching him, working by his side, painting and cleaning, with a newfound tenderness for him in her heart and no idea whatsoever as to how to help him.

“Hey, Sarah, how’s it going?”

She spun around to find Garrett standing at the open front door. So preoccupied with thoughts of Jesse, she hadn’t heard him come across the porch. “Hi, Garrett. What’s up?”

“Just wanted to check on Jesse. Used the excuse of bringing over a few more trowels.” He held up a handful of tools. “He’s been…kind of withdrawn since Hank came by.”

“Tell me about it,” she said. “Do you know where he is?”

“If he’s not here, then most likely Full Moon Bay.”

Located on the secluded northeast shore and accessible only by either kayak or foot, it was one of the best-kept secrets on the island. Rocks piled high near the woods provided a natural retaining wall for the sandiest beach on the island. It wasn’t a big bay, but it was as picturesque as it got on Lake Superior.

“I gave him the keys for the maintenance truck this morning. He might be out collecting rock for your fireplace.”

“I told him I’d help him.”

“Me, too. So much for that.”

It was clear both she and Garrett were worried, and neither knew what to do about it.

“I’m going to find him.” She started toward the front door.

“Sarah?”

She turned.

“For what it’s worth, thank you.”

“For what?”

“For giving Jesse a chance, for being his friend. But be careful. I’m not entirely sure he’s not going to cut and run before your house is finished.”

“He wouldn’t do that to me, Garrett. Or to Brian.” Holding back a sudden rush of tears, she ran out the door and took the golf cart down the northeast loop of Island Drive.

She found Mirabelle’s maintenance vehicle parked beside the overgrown path to Full Moon Bay. A pile of rocks were already stacked in the trailer hitched to the back of the truck. Jesse was down at the shoreline,
picking through rock and occasionally tossing one into a wheelbarrow by his side.

His head down, his brow furrowed in concentration, his expression was nothing like the Jesse she’d come to know and…she had to be honest with herself…the Jesse she’d come to love.

And there it was. Against her better judgment, ignoring all the warning bells going off inside her head, her feelings had developed and grown into something so strong there was no fighting it. She’d fallen in love with him.

Dammit. Now what?
Now she had no choice but to jump in with both feet.

He glanced up, caught sight of her, but said nothing.

“I thought I was going to help you with this.”

“You were busy.”

“I’m always busy, but I’ve still helped with the house when needed.”

“Guess I didn’t need you after all.”

“No,” she whispered. “You don’t need anyone.”

He glanced at her, his gaze wary.

“But that’s just what you want everyone to believe, isn’t it?”

At that he went back to picking through the rocks and tossing ones that for whatever reason worked into the wheelbarrow.

Well, Sarah had had enough. “You come here with this outwardly happy-go-lucky exterior. Pretending that every bad thing rolls off you like water on a duck’s back. Nothing fazes Jesse. No, sirree.

“People won’t associate with you because of what you did? So what? They leave restaurants and bars when you appear? Won’t sit next to you at a damned
funeral? Who cares? Not you. You don’t want anybody. You don’t need anybody. And you don’t want anyone to want or need you.

“Well, guess what? People on this island do care about you. I care about you. But do you let us in? Do you let me in? Do you let any of us give back just a little of what you give to us?

“No! Because Jesse Taylor is a rock.” She picked up a stone and threw it in the wheelbarrow. “You think you don’t deserve anyone’s friendship. Let alone anyone’s love. So you’re just damned well not going to accept it.”

He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at her.

“Well, I got news for you. It’s not going to work. You running away, either by burying yourself in a construction job or by literally leaving Mirabelle and moving from town to town isn’t going to solve anything.”

“Stay out of my life, Sarah,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t want you inside. I got nothing to give. Nothing.”

“You’re wrong. About everything. So Hank shows up in his wheelchair. Reminding you of what happened. So what? You can work your fingers to the bone. You can run and hide and hide some more and run some more. At the end of the day, Hank will
still
be in a wheelchair. And you will
still
have put him there.”

Jesse glared at her, his chest heaving as if it was all he could do to breathe.

“Instead of wallowing around in it—”

“Wallowing?” He shook his head. “I sure as hell am not just feeling sorry for myself!”

“Then what would you call it? Because it’s not coping. It’s not healing. It’s not moving on.” She took
a deep breath and whispered, “Stop going around in circles, Jesse. Stand still, and make a difference.”

Without another word, he turned his back on her, grabbed the handlebars of the wheelbarrow and marched away through the woods. By the time she made it back to her golf cart, Jesse, his truck and all his damned rocks were gone. She may have pushed him too far.

J
ESSE SPENT THE ENTIRE
next week w
allowing
, as Sarah would’ve called it. Or working, to his way of thinking. Avoiding everyone, particularly Sarah, Brian and Zach. Everyone else, including Garrett, he could manage to hold at arm’s length, but not those three.

Sarah was right about everything she’d said out at Full Moon Bay, but for the life of him he couldn’t see his way clear of this. All he could think about was the MADD presentation and the overwhelming urge thrumming through him to leave Mirabelle. He’d been so preoccupied it took him twice the time it should have to complete the simplest tasks and half of what he’d finished he’d had to immediately do over as a result of crappy workmanship.

It was close to dinnertime when he heard footsteps on Sarah’s porch. The front door opened without a knock. Had to be Sarah. He wasn’t holding out any hope that she’d brought him something to eat. After their argument at Full Moon Bay, she’d stopped bringing him meals.

She breezed into the living room. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I thought you were planning on finishing the fireplace today.” She studied the stones. “Not a good day, huh?”

“No.” He still had a good three feet of rock left to lay down.

“What’s going on?”

“It happens. Everyone has bad days every once in a while.”

“Not you. On bad days you tend to get even more accomplished.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a first time for everything.”

“Jesse—”

“Sarah, leave it, okay? You said your piece the other day. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. You can’t fix this.”

She didn’t say anything.

The moment he glanced back, he regretted raising his voice. “I’m sorry. I just need to be alone.”

“No, you don’t. You’ve been alone enough.”

Now it was his turn to keep silent.

“You need to go tonight.”

There was no need to say where. They both knew.

“It might bring some closure for you. It might—”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” He turned on her. “You don’t know what I went through. There hasn’t been a single day that I haven’t thought of the accident first thing when I wake up in the morning and the last thing before I fall asleep. There is no such thing as closure for me on this.”

“How do you know unless you try?”

“I know.”

“Jesse, Hank came for a reason. I think he might have hit on something that might help both of you. What have you got to lose?”

What very, very little remained of his self-respect, that’s what. Hank’s wife and family would be there. It was hard enough having looked into Hank’s eyes.
God knows why, but the man had forgiven him. Hank’s family hadn’t. How could Jesse face them?

“I don’t completely understand what you went through,” she said, more gently. “Honestly, I can’t even imagine it. I can’t help but feel like this is the right thing for you. If you don’t do it, you just might regret it for the rest of your life. But if you do…”

“Stop, okay! Stop, Sarah.”

“If it makes a difference,” she whispered, “I’ll go with you.”

He looked into her eyes, held her gaze. The compassion and friendship Sarah offered was almost too much for him. With her by his side, for a moment, he imagined he could do about anything.

Do something. Anything but nothing.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”

U
SING THE CAR
that she stored in Bayfield for mainland trips, Sarah drove into the Ashland community-center parking lot and turned off the engine. Jesse had barely said a word since they’d gotten on the ferry and left Mirabelle, and she was afraid to say anything that might make a mess of this already frightening night.

She turned toward him, studied his solemn profile, and suddenly what Hank had asked Jesse to do sunk in for her. “Maybe I was wrong,” she said, worried for him. “Maybe you shouldn’t do this.”

“No, Sarah. You were right. More right than you’ve ever been about me. So was Hank. I have to go in there.”

“Jesse—”

“I
have
to do this. I have to face them. I have to face what I did, but I understand if you don’t want to go.” He glanced at her. “You don’t need to come inside.”

“I know.”

Abruptly, he climbed out of the car and started toward the main entrance, his head down, his feet moving as if on automatic pilot. Slowly, she followed him, at a loss for what to say, what to do. Her emotions were so conflicted, she wasn’t sure she could speak. No matter what, though, she wasn’t letting him face this alone. Hurrying now, she finally caught up with him at the door.

“Sure you want to come in?” he asked.

“I’m sure.”

He held the door open and then led the way through the building. They found the designated room and stood in the hall for a moment, listening to the presentation. The room was full, holding at least fifty people, and a MADD volunteer was speaking. She introduced a man whose entire family was killed by a drunk driver. The audience was silent as the man relayed the story of his devastating loss.

Jesse bent his head and ran his hands through his hair. When he looked up again, he seemed to spot Hank in the back row of the room at the same moment Hank spotted him.

Hank smiled as he rolled his wheelchair toward them. He was a handsome man, the wheelchair and his thin, almost spindly legs a complete contradiction to the athletic look of his upper body. “I’m glad you both came,” he whispered.

Silently, Jesse nodded.

“I’ll go up before you. In about five minutes. I’ll talk about the impact the accident had on my family, my life. Then it’ll be your turn.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“That’s entirely up to you, Jesse. I’d suggest you
simply tell your story. In your own words. As honestly as you possibly can. Take as much time as you need. Or use as little as you want. Afterward, we’ll answer questions.”

Jesse took a big breath and stuffed his hands in his pocket.

Sarah lamely placed her hand on his upper back and held it there, not knowing what else to do.

“This is gonna be hard, I know,” Hank said. “And I should warn you again. My wife is here. My parents. A couple brothers and sisters.”

Jesse had explained earlier that having pled guilty to the charges all those years ago, he’d never been forced to confront Hank’s family in court, other than at sentencing. Now there was no way around it.