Second Chance Match

by Arlene James

  They were all smiling. Especially Jessa. Yes, doubts remained, but she truly believed she was doing the right thing. As scary as it was to trust again, she just couldn’t convince herself that Garrett was anything other than the wonderful man he seemed or that the future could be anything other than bright.

  Time did not just fly; it swirled, dipped, spiraled, dived and at times came to a screeching halt. They had a brief tiff with the Historical Society when several of its members took umbrage at the heavy glass door that Jessa bought to replace the paneled back door at the Monroe house. Magnolia managed to smooth that over by having Garrett install the glass door over the original, which could be pushed back against the wall during business hours. Dozens of other mini crises cropped up on a daily basis and were somehow overcome, until only the final details remained.

  Dizzied by a week and a half of activity and decisions, Jessa could hardly credit that the day of the “Great Grand Opening,” as the Chatams called it, would arrive with the morning. Meanwhile, one last glass shelf remained to be bolted into place. She steadied the brass bracket while Garrett made short work of driving the screw into the wall and reached for another. Hunter ran into the room through the open door to the hallway.

  “Look who I found!”

  Garrett glanced around, grinning at the cat that Hunter clutched against his chest. “Looks like Curly has come home.”

  “Can we keep him?” Hunter begged. “Pleeease?”

  Jessa shook her head at the scraggly animal. Its mottled yellow fur bore the dark scars of the fire that had closed the Monroe house a few months earlier. Garrett had told her that the cat—along with Asher’s sister, Dallas—had caused the fire by knocking over a can of paint remover and a burning lamp. Dallas had reportedly loosened the cap on the paint remover in an effort to fill the house with fumes and drive the Monroes out, intending to see them sheltered at Chatam House in an attempt to reunite Kent and Odelia. The fire had been unplanned, but her scheme had worked. The cat, however, remained a free spirit.

  “He’s a free-roaming tom, son. I’m not sure anyone can ‘keep’ him.”

  “I expect he’ll be around quite a lot, though,” Garrett commented. “Kent won’t mind sharing him.”

  “Cool,” Hunter said. “He can sleep on my bed.” With that, he turned and ran from the room with the cat.

  Jessa huffed unhappily, but Garrett quickly sought to soothe her. “Don’t worry. Even if Hunter can keep the cat in tonight, old Curly isn’t likely to hang around for long. He’ll be out of here as soon as the door is opened in the morning, I guarantee.”

  Giving him a doubtful look, Jessa subsided and went to fetch the glass for the shelf. She smiled to herself as he set the rest of the screws. He was always doing that, easing her concerns. He’d met every problem with calm reason and hard work, coming up with creative solutions and implementing them swiftly. She’d come to depend on him completely. And, yes, to trust him.

  She passed him the glass panel, and he fit it securely into the brackets. Finished with the task at hand, he paused to look around them.

  “Sweetheart, I think that’s it.”

  Warmth swept through her at the endearment, but she refused to wallow in it.

  “Not quite,” she refuted. “I have to decorate these shelves yet.”

  “That’s your department,” he told her, starting to put away his tools.

  He carried the toolbox outside while she rushed into the workroom to begin gathering up the things that she’d set out to display. Garrett came in again and helped her carry stuff into the outer room, but then Hunter reappeared, declaring that he was starving. He seemed to be eating the equivalent of his own weight every day right now. Perhaps because he’d run so free these past weeks.

  “I’ll make him a sandwich,” Garrett said, waving her back to the job.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem. It’s dinnertime, you know.”

  Jessa shook her head. She hadn’t even noticed. Garrett left the room. She stepped back to view her handiwork sometime later and heard him tell Hunter that he needed a bath before bed.

  “O-kay,” Hunter acquiesced reluctantly. Then they both trooped up the stairs. A few moments later, she heard the sound of water running overhead.

  Jessa’s heart swelled. How many times over the past ten or eleven days had Garrett stepped in to take care of her son when it was more convenient for him than her? He had fit himself seamlessly into the lives they were building here. She loved it all, this house, the shop, the way Hunter had blossomed and grown, how easily Garrett dealt with him. Garrett himself. It was all perfect. He was perfect, everything she’d ever dreamed of in a man.

  She suspected that he would ask her to marry him before too long, and she wondered if she would agree. In truth, she’d prefer not to marry again, but she couldn’t deny that she loved Garrett and didn’t want to lose him. And then there were those “couple more” kids, he’d mentioned. She knew that if she wanted a rich, full life with him, all she had to do was reach out and take it. If she had the courage. She hoped she would, for all their sakes.

  Chapter Twelve

  The display done, Jessa went upstairs to look in on Hunter and Garrett. She heard Hunter’s laughter long before she reached the upper hall.

  Garrett leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb and stared into the bedroom across from the bath, allowing Hunter the privacy he now demanded. “No, I’m serious,” he said. “Hamsters will eat right through your wall. They’ll eat your plumbing if it’s that plastic pipe. They’re just big rats, after all. You’re better off with a dog. Once Curly shows it who’s boss, they’ll get along just fine.”

  “You think Curly can beat up a dog?” Hunter asked from the tub.

  “Yeah, most of them. Any dog your mom would let you have, anyway.”

  Jessa slipped into Hunter’s room and quietly laid out his pajamas. A dog, was it? They’d have to see about that. Oh, who was she kidding? They’d get a dog if that was what Hunter wanted, something small and easily housebroken. Something Curly would no doubt put in its place and Garrett would patiently train. Jessa smiled to herself. A cat, a dog, a couple more kids and Garrett. Could life get any better than that?

  Hunter ran into the room a few moments later, trailing water and flapping towels. Garrett gathered the towels as they were discarded and began mopping up the water while Hunter got into his pj’s.

  “Can I watch TV, Mom?”

  He’d started calling her “Mom” instead of “Mommy” lately. She took it as a bittersweet sign that he was growing up.

  “Half an hour,” she told him, and he scampered into the upstairs sitting room that they’d created in the large bedroom overlooking the front of the house. She went to turn on the television and thought she heard a knock downstairs.

  “I’ll check,” Garrett volunteered.

  He returned just in time to help tuck in Hunter and got a hug for his efforts.

  “Sleep well, buddy. Big day tomorrow.”

  To Jessa’s surprise—and apparently Garrett’s, too—Curly jumped up onto the bed and plopped down next to Hunter. They left him talking to the mangy old cat.

  “I bet you could beat up even a big dog, but I’ll look for a friendly one so you don’t have to.”

  Jessa and Garrett kept their laughter to themselves as they moved away.

  “What took so long?” Jessa asked as Garrett steered her down the stairs. “You were gone quite a while.”

  “I’ll show you,” he answered, escorting her to the dining room.

  He’d laid out a candlelit dinner. She recognized the plates from Chatam House.

  “Hilda indulged me. I thought we deserved a special celebration after all our hard work.”

  Jessa laughed, surprised by the huskiness
of her own voice. “It’s lovely.”

  He seated her at the head of the ornate dining table, which belonged to the Monroes and had escaped the fire, before taking the place to her right. After pouring them large goblets of Hilda’s special lemonade, he lifted his glass in a toast.

  “To the grandest of openings.”

  “The grandest of openings,” she repeated, clinking her glass against his.

  “And to us,” he added softly.

  “And to us,” she echoed in a whisper, taking a sip.

  Grinning, he took a long slug of the sweet lemonade, and Jessa laughed again. She’d been doing that a lot lately, laughing. By the time dinner was finished—a lovely crab-filled chicken breast, angel-hair pasta and Hilda’s fabulous apple walnut salad—she wondered if she had ever laughed so much in her life.

  As they washed the dishes and packed up the detritus of their meal for the return trip to Chatam House, her heart began to beat in a slow, steadily more pronounced cadence, for she knew what was coming next. Wayne had been stinting with his affection, withholding it as punishment when displeased; not so with Garrett, though he never pressed her, never demanded.

  Leaning a hip against the counter, he slowly pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers. Lifting his head a long while later, he smiled.

  “See you in the morning, partner.”

  “I’ll have the coffee ready,” she promised, and he went out smiling.

  She couldn’t help loving him. Hugging herself, she wondered how long before she completely lost herself to him? Or was it too late already? And would that really turn out to be so bad, after all?

  “Of course, she’s fallen in love with him,” Magnolia said from the end of the couch in the private sitting room that she shared with her sisters. “What young woman in her right mind wouldn’t fall in love with Garrett? Especially given how much time they’ve spent together lately.”

  Odelia shrugged, tucking her feet beneath her.

  “They have spent a lot of time together,” Hypatia said, lowering herself into the armchair opposite the sofa with a sigh, “but you must admit, dear, that not every young woman would overlook Garrett’s unfortunate past.”

  Magnolia mentally scoffed at Hypatia’s concern. Anyone with any sense would understand completely. Still, a tiny, niggling doubt wormed its way in, nonetheless.

  “You don’t think she would reject him because of it, do you?”

  “I don’t know, dear,” Hypatia answered. “What did Garrett say about it?”

  What had Garrett said about it? Magnolia wondered. Goodness, did Jessa even know?

  A terrible urgency seized her. “I have to speak to someone,” she said, rising to her feet. “If I don’t see you later, good night, girls.”

  “Good night,” Hypatia said.

  “Good night!” Odelia called gaily. “I feel like a girl, you know,” she said with a giggle. “That’s what love does for you.”

  Magnolia would take her word for it and pray that it also did much, much more.

  Humming to himself, Garrett drove the old truck toward Chatam House. The spring night sent warm air rushing across the forearm that he rested along the edge of the open window. The sensation made him think of Jessa. He chuckled aloud.

  What didn’t make him think of Jessa?

  He was obsessed with the woman and happily so. The truth was, he loved her, and her son, so much that it shocked him. It even frightened him a little.

  Almost since he’d met her, Garrett had walked on eggshells around Jessa for fear that he’d frighten or offend her, but lately…lately he’d begun to relax. He couldn’t seem to help himself. Being with her felt like the most natural thing in the world.

  That shouldn’t be so surprising, really. Jessa and he had much in common, more than he’d even realized. Yes, they both had experience with abusive situations. Over these past days, however, he’d come to see that it was more than that. They worked together with the ease of long-time partners, and they often reached the same decision independently. Their personal tastes dovetailed neatly, too.

  Once, he’d paused in the yard on his way to the house, caught by the mellow sunshine and velvet air, only to rouse himself and go inside to find Jessa basking in the open window, eyes closed, inhaling gently as the Texas spring enveloped her. He’d wanted to fall at her feet and tell her then how he felt, but he’d held his tongue. He’d promised her time, after all.

  Later, after a long, busy day, Garrett had offered to buy dinner. Hunter immediately called for pizza, but Garrett and Jessa had looked at each other and said, “Tacos!” It turned out that they liked the same kind from the same place.

  Smiling at the memory, Garrett slowed the truck at the entrance to the estate and turned off the street into the drive, moving slowly and carefully past the open, black wrought-iron gate with the stylized gold C at the center top. Oh, how he would miss this place and everyone in it when the day came to finally leave! But he trusted that he would be going to something even better, his own home. Perhaps even to his own wife and family. Yes, it had gotten that serious for him.

  Garrett sensed that Jessa was coming around to the possibility of a future with him, but he well knew that she was in no hurry to truly consider such a thing. He sensed as well that, if he was not careful, he could find himself permanently trapped in a kind of limbo with her, forever on the periphery of her life, never truly held in her heart. He prayed for God’s guidance and timing. He didn’t want to press her, but he didn’t want to wait too long for a decision from her, either.

  After guiding the old truck through the porte cochere at the west end of the house, he parked it in the garage and ascended the stairs to the living quarters above. He let himself into the narrow front hall and went straight to the attic steps, only to halt at the sound of Magnolia’s voice.

  “Garrett.”

  Turning, he saw her standing in the doorway of the living room, backlit by Chester’s television set.

  “Mags? Uh, Magnolia.” Given the hour, he couldn’t help a spurt of alarm. “Is everything okay?”

  “I just wanted a moment to talk to you. We’ve hardly seen you these past couple of weeks.”

  He relaxed a bit. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll make up the time. There’s just been so much to do.”

  “This isn’t about that. It’s another matter. May I come up?”

  Surprised by this, he glanced up the narrow stairs. “Are you sure?”

  “Please.”

  “O-of course.”

  Confused and curious, he stepped away from the foot of the stairs and lifted an arm in invitation. Magnolia moved forward and began the climb. He came after her, wondering what could be so important that she would come here and seek him out.

  The door to his room stood open as usual, and she walked in without hesitation, glancing around at the spartan décor. He preferred it that way, from the simple quilt on his narrow bed to the faded armchair positioned beside the window. She went there and sat on the edge of the seat cushion. Garrett pulled out the desk chair and sat facing her.

  “What’s going on?”

  “That’s what I wanted to ask you, actually. How is it coming?”

  “We’re ready,” he told her proudly. “We open the doors for business bright and early tomorrow morning.”

  “Wonderful. And Jessa?”

  “You should see her shop. It’s amazing, the kind of place you want to poke around in for hours. She’s going to do the Chatams proud with the wedding flowers.”

  “Yes, I’m sure she is. What I mean is, what about you and Jessa?”

  Garrett chuckled. Ah, so now they’d come to the point. “Jess and I…we’re good, I think. Maybe better than good.”

  Magnolia smiled. “Things are getting serious then,
are they?”

  He didn’t even try to hold back. “I think so. I hope so. They certainly are for me.”

  “You’ve told her, then?”

  “Told her?” he echoed uncertainly.

  Magnolia looked down at her hands, and her meaning hit him even before she said, “About your past. You have mentioned it, haven’t you?”

  “Well, not exactly. That is…” He meant to tell her. At some point. “We haven’t talked about it specifically.”

  “You’d be wise to tell her yourself before someone else does,” Magnolia pointed out gently.

  Garrett put a hand to the back of his neck. “I know. You’re right. And I have tried. The time’s just never been right. I’ll tell her as soon as we get past the opening.”

  Magnolia nodded. “That’s good. Very wise. There’s no point in upsetting the apple cart now. Once she fully understands, I’m sure she’ll be as supportive of you as the rest of us.” Rising to her feet then, Magnolia smoothed her gathered skirt with her gnarled hands and stepped gingerly toward the door. “Well, I won’t keep you. I know you’re tired and want to rest up for your big day. I’m glad we had a moment to talk, though.”

  Garrett stood and pushed the chair under the desk to give her room to pass. “Me, too. Say a prayer for us.”

  “Many,” she assured him before walking out onto the tiny landing.

  Garrett followed her and watched as she made her way down the first two steps. Suddenly he felt compelled to speak. “Mags! I—I mean—”

  “Mags will do, my dear, between us,” she said, pausing to look up at him over her shoulder, a wry smile in place.

  His heart swelling at the allowed intimacy, he stepped closer. “I hope you know…I trust you know how deeply I care for you. What I mean is, well, I can’t help thinking that I’ll be leaving here soon, for good, and I want to be sure that you know I would never disrespect you and…” He found his throat clogged by a big knot and attempted to clear it away as her amber eyes sparkled wetly up at him from the shadowed stairwell. Before he could quite speak again, however, she turned and continued on her way.