“Oh, now it’s ‘Alex’s offer.’ I see it’s become personal.”
“It’s my brother’s life. It’s always been personal. I wonder just how much you have at stake here, Mr. Daxon. Does the right thing for Max spell out in more than just dollar signs for you?”
Daxon scowled. “You don’t trust me, do you?”
JJ put down the handle of the cart. “I’ve learned the hard way never to trust anyone, Mr. Daxon. Especially someone who declares very loudly that they have my best interest at heart.”
“This offer is a mistake. Let me do my job here, Ms. Jones. Don’t let sentimentality cloud your thinking.”
There was something about his eyes. They lacked the clarity she could always find in Alex’s gaze. Still, what he said made sense. AG’s offer did hinge on their ability to stay afloat. “Answer me this one question. If we go to trial and we win the full amount you’re telling me you’re going to request, can AG survive the hit?”
Daxon balked. “You have no reason to be worried about what AG can survive.” His eyes narrowed. “Or do you? Maybe it’s time for you to think about where your loyalties lie. If it came down to what’s best for Max or what’s best for your new friend Alex, could you make the right decision? Are you ready to stand by your brother when he needs you most?”
The knot in her stomach—the one she’d supposedly come to Gordon Falls to heal—seemed to double at the question. Daxon had a point: it might very likely come down to a choice like that...on paper, at least. Alex seemed pretty convinced that his solution was what was best for them all. Was he right? Could she trust him when her family’s future was at stake?
A month ago, there wouldn’t have been any question, but Alex had changed her. In ways that could never be undone and in ways she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to undo. “Are you so sure this has to be war?” She kept thinking of Alex’s words, about him striving for the solution where everybody won instead of nobody. She was deathly tired of war.
Daxon’s laugh was ugly. “Your brother is in a battle for his life and you, a soldier, are asking me if this has to be war?” He shook his head. “I have to say, Cushman is even more clever than I thought. He’s got you hooked, hasn’t he?”
“No.” JJ’s answer was sharp and quick and uncertain. It was nearly impossible not to be drawn in by the optimism Alex gushed in every email. It was as if Alex grew more energized as Max seemed to grow more bitter. More focused on vengeance. Could she really blame him? She hadn’t lost her ability to walk; her life had been changed, but it hadn’t been blown to pieces like Max’s had. “I just think it’s a mistake not to let Max decide for himself.” And that really was it, wasn’t it? When it came right down to it, even if this turned into a war, it wasn’t her war. Max had to choose how and when he’d fight for what he wanted, not her.
Watching Alex respond to the threat of his own life coming undone, tackling the disaster head-on with determination the way he did, had woken JJ up to a deep truth. Max could not be coaxed back into a full life—it had to be a choice he made for himself. With all the facts and possibilities, not just Tony Daxon’s heavy-handed management. She squared her shoulders at the attorney. “So tell me, Mr. Daxon, will you show him AG’s offer or will I?”
“I don’t think it’s worth considering.”
“Don’t you think that should be Max’s decision?”
Daxon buttoned his suit coat back up. “If you want to take the risk of confusing Max with an ill-advised scheme that might rob him of the financial security he could guarantee now, I can’t stop you. But you’ll be doing so against my counsel. And you should know I’ll strongly advise Max not to take it.” He pointed a finger at her. “This is about Max. About getting him all he needs. He’s an innocent victim in this—never forget that.”
“I have a friend back in the VA hospital. Have you ever been there?”
“Occasionally.”
“It’s filled with victims. Guys who gave their all for their country and came back with injuries no one should ever have to endure.” JJ had gone back last week to find one soldier from her unit, who had lost the use of his legs, hoping to gain some advice. Instead, the experience had been a devastating lesson in how war destroys its wounded warriors. She’d broken down and called Alex that night, terrified Max would end up the civilian version of the hollow souls that occupied the corners of those rooms. Worst of all, JJ had felt like she’d seen her own soul in those veterans—empty, burned almost beyond restoration. She’d always thought war had stolen her faith, but that afternoon she realized she’d been the one to cast it off, a victim of her own despair.
She and Alex had talked for two hours, clinging to a tiny piece of the connection they’d had on the river dock, reminding her that a faith cast aside could be picked up again if she chose to turn back. God hadn’t left her—it was she who’d left Him. She just had to make room for Him in her life again. And that meant letting go of the despair. For herself, and for Max.
JJ glared at Daxon. “There’s one guy who lost his eyesight and half of one arm. Only he’s lost so much more than that. His every physical need is taken care of, but he’s dropped out of life. Just sits there, waiting for the rest of his body to fail. Nobody’s given him a chance to take his place back in the world. I can’t help thinking Alex might just be handing that place back to Max.”
“Alex Cushman is soothing a guilty conscience and a terminal balance sheet. He’s already lost. He’s just trying not to lose everything, and that can’t be your problem.”
“If there’s one thing war taught me, it was that there’s a huge difference between losing and surrender.”
* * *
Come to Chicago and talk to Max.
Alex stared at the seven words on his computer screen, stunned. In all his emails back and forth with JJ, he’d sensed her growing openness. The night she’d called after her visit to the VA hospital, he’d almost flown out there uninvited despite his promise to Doc that he’d stay put until the Joneses had made their decision.
It had been hard not to bolt. The battle over AG had been bitter. Sam had been awful, and a few of the upper management had taken his side to make for a nasty split. Every day handed Alex a reason to flee the painstaking process of retooling AG for its new focus. He’d thrown his Go-Bag in the Dumpster at the end of the first week because it kept calling to him from the closet behind Cynthia’s desk.
Cynthia was gone, too, laid off like many of the administrative staff. He hated Cynthia’s loss more than all the others. She was a fabulous employee and someone with a bright future, but her departure had practical casualties, too—Alex was terrible at administrative tasks; the plethora of mistakes in his letters and emails had become a company-wide joke. Still, Alex felt it was essential that he bear the hits as much as any other AG employee. Too many people had to be laid off—and Alex hadn’t slept well in weeks as a result—but the leaner AG would hopefully be nimble enough to shift and survive.
He’d be sticking around this time to make sure.
He found himself fighting his old nature with every ounce of determination God could give him. Even the travel photos in his office had to go because he found himself staring at them with a craving to disappear that often drove him to blurt out desperate prayers for the strength to stay the course.
JJ’s email could not have come soon enough. The only thing that kept him from jumping in his car this minute was the knowledge that even a flight five hours from now would get him to Gordon Falls faster than his beloved Land Rover. He’d booked his flight and shifted four meetings in a matter of minutes. They were important meetings, but everything else could wait if he got the chance to convince Max Jones his future lay with Adventure Gear.
Doing right by Max had become far more than a corporate goal for Alex. It was becoming dangerously close to obsession—and Doc did not hesitate to express his concern. Doc’s worries quieted down, however, when Alex admitted to his affections for JJ.
“She is not who I
would have expected to steal your heart,” Doc said, his dark eyes crinkling with amusement. “But then again, that is how it always goes, mmm? She is a fickle thing, love.” Doc could get away with saying corny stuff like that in his thick Italian accent, but then again, Doc could always see into Alex in ways even Sam never could.
“Has she stolen your heart, Alexander?” Doc had asked as they’d packed up the AG offices to downsize to smaller, more frugal quarters. “Tell me, has it finally happened?” Doc was also the first to chide Alex for his endless string of shallow relationships, so the Italian was rooting for JJ, it was clear.
“I think so.” It felt both alarming and easy to admit his feelings out loud. Alex had always been passionate about life, but he felt close to very few people and never got particularly invested in any women. They were an amusement, a diversion, but never an essential. He’d never experienced the consuming yearning he felt for JJ, a craving that had only doubled since the phone call and gone straight off the charts with her email. “Only I don’t know if I’m alone in this, Doc. I think I’ve won her over, but I’m not at all sure.”
“Then it is good you are going back to Chicago,” Doc had said. “There is no other way to be sure. That kind of assurance can only be found in a woman’s eyes—not in her emails.”
Alex had only rolled his eyes. He himself would have never gotten away with that kind of talk—not even with Doc’s accent.
Chapter Seventeen
As he pushed through the doors of Max’s apartment building in Chicago—he’d been able to move out of the rehabilitation facility to a nearby residential unit operated by the hospital as a halfway house of sorts—Alex thought of the last time he’d seen the man. The scorn in Max Jones’s eyes at the press conference had never left his memory. He pressed the button for the apartment marked Jones, praying that God would grant him favor. He needed this. In ways he still didn’t entirely understand.
Alex knew JJ would be there, but that foreknowledge didn’t dilute the rush of pleasure he felt at seeing her face. The breath fled his lungs as she pulled open the door and her smile set off sparks under his ribs. A completely inappropriate craving to kiss her right then and there blinded him for a moment or two, rendering him speechless.
“Hi.” Her voice was soft and a bit unsteady. Did seeing him send the same rush through her?
“Cushman,” Max’s deep voice came from behind JJ as the young man wheeled into view. He was using a high-tech, lightweight wheelchair, not the clumsy, generic hospital one Alex had seen at the press conference.
“Nice touch.” Alex laughed as he pointed to the flames Max had painted onto the wheel panels. The outrageous modification suited Max perfectly.
Max managed a hint of a crooked grin. “Birthday present from a friend who paints cars. He offered to put a dual chrome exhaust on the back, but I thought that was going a bit far.”
JJ rolled her eyes. Alex had so missed how she did that.
“Yeah, well, it’s not like I can peel out of the driveway or anything.” It had taken only a split second for the darkness to return to Max’s eyes.
Alex obviously had a lot of work to do. “I like it,” he offered to Max. “It’s exactly the kind of spirit I want Adventure Access to have.”
“So you decided on a name?” JJ jumped on the chance to move the conversation forward, motioning both men into the apartment.
Alex shrugged. “It seemed the best combination of old and new. We’re still about adventure—just different kinds of adventure. And I’d like to think that someday much of the old Adventure Gear will come back into being.”
“Yeah, well, we all know about how plans can change,” Max grunted, spinning competently around to face them as Alex and JJ took seats in the apartment’s living room.
“How do you feel your rehab is coming?”
Max rolled his eyes—the same gesture as JJ, only nowhere near as endearing. “Everything takes twelve times longer than I want. And I only get half as far as I planned.”
Alex knew that feeling. “Rehabilitating a broken company doesn’t feel much better right now, I assure you.”
It had been the wrong thing to say. “I doubt that,” Max growled. “Not even close.”
“We ordered Max’s adapted car yesterday.” JJ forced brightness into her voice.
“Cost a fortune,” her brother added. “I could have gotten a top-of-the-line Mustang for what we’ll be dishing out for that dumb-looking thing.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you became the man to commission the world’s first adaptive muscle car,” Alex replied, refusing to let Max’s digs get to him. When Max gave him a sour “as if” look in response, Alex put his packet of papers down on the coffee table. “Maybe today isn’t the right day for this conversation. I’ll just leave the details with you and come back later.” Leaving JJ’s company felt rather like walking away from the fire on an Arctic expedition, but it was clear the chances of him getting anywhere with Max were thinning fast and it was making him crazy to see her so strained over Max’s sour disposition.
“No,” JJ said as she shot her brother an almost maternal look that silently shouted you promised to behave. “Please don’t leave. I really want Max to hear this from you.”
“Daxon says meeting you is a monumental mistake.” Max threw the assessment out like a dare.
“I don’t doubt that.” Alex sat back in his chair. “If all you want from us is a boatload of money, it probably is. If you choose to drain every bit of AG’s capital in a whopping settlement, that’s your right. You’ll undoubtedly win and AG will most likely go under and, well, I’ll live with it.”
“Just like I’m living with this?” Max slapped one of his legs alarmingly hard. “I’d flinch if I could feel it, but, well...” It was a stunt for shock value. It worked; Alex gulped.
“Max.” JJ had gone from annoyed to mortified. “Could we try to do this like adults?”
“Okay, Cushman,” Max sat back and crossed his arms. “Win me over.”
It was an uphill battle the whole afternoon. Alex found himself exhausted from trying to keep enthusiasm and optimism for Adventure Access in the face of Max’s steady resentment. Really, could he blame the man? No matter how one looked at it, poor decisions by Adventure Gear had resulted in Max’s injuries. What Alex was asking Max to consider demanded no small amount of maturity, forethought and downright forgiveness. How many men could do that at any age, much less Max’s reckless young years?
When JJ suggested a coffee break, Alex was grateful. It was torture being in the same room with JJ and yet unable to speak everything he’d come to Chicago to say. This visit was as much about winning over JJ as it was about gaining Max’s partnership—in his heart, convincing JJ was even more important. He’d never jumped at the chance to go brew a pot of coffee with more speed.
Just as they ducked into the alcove that formed Max’s kitchen, the apartment’s front door opened and Mrs. Jones called a hello. So much for any time alone with JJ. Mrs. Jones headed straight into the kitchen with a pile of fluffy somethings filling up her arms. “Look!”
JJ smiled even as Alex peered at the pile. Sweaters in August? Why would anyone take such delight about sweaters in the middle of the summer?
“The prayer shawls!” JJ ducked over and pulled a red thing from the top of the pile. “Melba found me a red one just like she said.” She poked her head around the room divider to call to Max. “Oh, little brother, wait until you see the one Violet made for you—Melba told me all about it. You’ll just die when you see it.”
“Oh, my goodness, yes!” Mrs. Jones giggled. Evidently she’d seen the whatever-it-was already and found it as amusing as JJ promised. The glimpse of the three of them acting so much like a family—the kidding and hugs and love away from the urgent stress of the hospital rooms—tugged at Alex. His family looked nothing like that now. He wasn’t sure it ever had looked anything like this little trio of affection.
Max wheeled into the room, his m
outh dropping open when Mrs. Jones unfurled a black knit rectangle with flames licking up from either end—exactly like his wheelchair.
“That is flat-out awesome!” Max marveled, holding out his hands for the thing. “Who made this?”
JJ bent closer to examine the amazing thing, which looked like a cross between a massive black knitted scarf and a hot-rod afghan. “One of the ladies from my friend Melba’s Bible study at Gordon Falls Community Church. I told Melba about the paint job on your wheelchair and one of the women came up with the idea. I think they call it a wrap or an afghan when it’s for a guy—you’d never use anything called a shawl, that’s for sure.”
JJ wrapped herself up in the fluffy red shawl and Alex watched the color light up her eyes. She looked so happy. It felt like he never got the chance to see her truly happy. It changed her face in ways that melted his heart and broke it at the same time.
Max was running his fingers through the black, red and orange fringe that trimmed either end of the wrap, as if the flames had grown multicolored tails. “Why’d they do this?”
“Volunteers make them and pray over them.” JJ’s voice changed to a soft tone Alex hadn’t heard in a long time. “The church gives them out to people who need care or comfort or healing. They come in lots of colors, but, Max, I’m pretty sure yours was a custom job.”
“People there care about you, Max,” said Mrs. Jones, her voice thick with a mother’s love. “They all want to see you come back.”
Alex could see that Gordon Falls didn’t just care about Max Jones. Whether or not JJ had realized it, Gordon Falls had become her home, too. He’d come here, ready to sweep JJ off her feet, to convince her and Max to come to Denver. He’d selfishly made all kinds of plans to graft JJ into his life, forgetting that JJ had made a wonderful new life of her own in Gordon Falls. Now everything was tangled; after watching this, he didn’t think he had the heart to ask JJ to consider moving away from Max should he reject the offer. AG was in Denver and Adventure Access could only be in Denver, but it was becoming clear the Jones family shouldn’t be uprooted from Gordon Falls. Hadn’t he felt the same sense of community even for his short stay there? Could he live with himself if he pulled JJ from the place that had played such an important role in her return to life?
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