by Camden Mays
Then he hugged Becky, who flirted with him. “See, I told you we’d get physical.”
✽✽✽
Washington, DC
Hannah was welcomed back at NCTC to standing ovations from her colleagues. It wasn’t until she was back in DC that she learned that Cole was hospitalized in Turkey while she was in hiding with Reichert. She had been disconnected from the world for days and had to set up new devices and numbers. She and Cole had a couple of conversations because she thought he was coming home, especially after the explosion. Instead, Cole was insistent on chasing his nemesis back to Yemen. She could hear the determination in Cole’s voice when they discussed the matter.
“But you promised you were coming home for their anniversary,” Hannah said.
“I have more important things in the world to take care of,” Cole had snapped back.
“More important than me?” Hannah asked pointedly, causing Cole to backpedal.
In the months of their relationship, they had had disagreements, but she had never seen him snap like he did. She was concerned about the effects of the concussion he had sustained. That and the early PTSD symptoms she had seen gave her pause. Their last call left a bitter taste in Hannah’s mouth. She couldn’t shake the sting of it.
Chapter 28
Morgan County, Tennessee – September 28th
The twenty-six-horsepower diesel engine of the old compact Kubota tractor grumbled to life, bringing a smile to the face of seventy-two-year-old William Jacobs. Hannah watched the smile grow wider as he saw her standing at the sliding glass back door, sipping her cup of coffee. She watched her father secure the sixty-inch mid-mount mower to the tractor belly. She gave him a wave, and he tipped his ball cap as he engaged the machine’s PTO and set off on his favorite chore, mowing the five-acre manicured lawn surrounding the white, mid-century farmhouse that sat on top of a hill.
“Your daddy sure loves that little tractor,” Hannah’s mother observed from the window above the kitchen sink. “The only thing he’s happier to see is you. We’re so glad you made it home, sweetheart. I was getting worried, thinking you may not be able to come after all.”
Hannah sighed and pulled up a chair at the kitchen table. “Yeah, it’s been a rough few weeks. I’m glad to be home too, Mom.”
“We’re sorry your boyfriend couldn’t make it. Your father and I were sure looking forward to meeting him. I think the whole town heard about it, with you two being in the news and all.”
“Oh my God. This place doesn’t change, does it?” Hannah said, considering the small-town gossip lines. She sat and gazed out the sliding doors, seeing her dad maneuver the large mower around a walnut tree.
She was angry at Cole. He had promised he would make the trip. She wanted to leave Wednesday, and she hoped he would change his mind. Then it was Thursday, and he called to say he wouldn’t be making it and that she should go on without him. So she left late on Friday and didn’t arrive until nearly midnight. Her folks were hosting an evening barbecue with neighbors and friends to celebrate their forty-fifth anniversary.
She touched the black pearl on her silver pendant necklace and thought of Cole. He had alluded to his serious intentions, but that was before the blast in Turkey. And that was what hurt the most. Hannah even imagined that he might propose to her at her parents’ farm. They had only been dating for six months now, but nothing about their relationship was pedestrian. It was just what she had feared. As soon as she gave herself entirely, she would be heartbroken. The subtle fear was constant, but now, she had severe doubts their relationship would survive the unrelenting demands of their careers.
She recalled the details of their first real fight, and during the nine-hour drive in her Honda Accord to Morgan County, Tennessee, she had experienced a full range of emotions—from anger to sadness to genuine reflection. When she reached Knoxville on I-40, she saw Cole’s incoming call and declined it. He tried again, leaving a message. Then he texted her, Please call me.
She ignored them all, convincing herself that she would use the few days left of her vacation time as respite and reflection and take care of herself first. She sat up straight in her seat and thought of the farm, knowing she was less than an hour out now. Then the Tim McGraw song “Highway Don’t Care” featuring Taylor Swift and Keith Urban blared out of the car speakers, causing her to cry.
What’s happening to me? she had asked herself. I’m not a crier. I never cry.
The tractor turned out of view to make another full circle, breaking her hypnotic state of reflection. Hannah let out another sigh of disappointment. “I was really looking forward to you both meeting him, Mom.”
Helen Jacobs laid the dish towel down and pulled a chair out to sit with her daughter. She reached across and patted Hannah’s hand that held the coffee cup.
“It’s different with him, Mom. I know I’ve made mistakes, and God knows Gary was the worst of them, but Cole is different. I’ve never felt so strongly or sure, and yet we can’t seem to catch a break. It’s like our timing is off or something.
“Our jobs keeping pulling us in different directions, and I think it’s only going to get worse. I want to be with him so badly, but I don’t know how it can work. The FBI is all I know.” She fought back the tears.
“Are you two that serious?”
“He’s the one that wanted to come to meet you both. He wanted to do it months ago. He loves me, Mom, I know it. I can tell. And I love him. I love him so much it hurts.” She couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. As they fell, Helen moved over to hug her only child. It had been a long time since she had seen her strong, confident daughter so vulnerable.
“God, I never cry,” Hannah said, frustrated with herself.
Woof, woof, woof. The mixed collie, Patches, broke up the tearful moment with her barking as she saw something through the glass storm front door. It was an unfamiliar car driving up the long gravel driveway on the fifteen-acre farm.
“What is it, girl?” Helen asked. She went to look out front while Hannah dabbed her eyes. “Sweetie, we’ve got company.”
“It’s Johnny Prichet. I bet he heard you were in town. Guess I should have told you he just got divorced and has been asking about you.”
“Oh good Lord, Mother!” Hannah protested, seeing one of her old high school boyfriends coming to the door. She regretted having to do the small-town hospitality thing.
“Hi, Mrs. Jacobs,” Johnny said, seeing them through the glass door. “Hi, Hannah!”
Hannah waved as her mother opened the door to let Johnny inside. It was just what you did in a small town when you knew everyone, even if you didn’t want to.
“What brings you out this way, Johnny?” Mrs. Jacobs asked the country boy, who looked about thirty pounds heavier than Hannah remembered.
“Well, I saw Janice down at the Walmart in Harriman, and she said that Hannah was in town, so I just wanted to come by and say hi.” He grinned and waved at Hannah. “Hi,” he said again as Patches sniffed around him until he patted her head.
“Hi again.” Hannah forced a smile and waved yet again, then crossed her arms.
Hannah’s father slid the back door open and stomped his boots on the rug by the door. “I saw a car pull up,” he said before seeing Johnny in the living room. Disappointment flashed across his face. Hannah knew what was coming. Next, her mother would feel obligated to be hospitable and ask Johnny to sit.
“You likin’ living in DC, Hannah?” Johnny asked. “I saw that news story about ya a few months back.”
“Sure,” Hannah said as she watched her mother’s body language. And there it was. Helen Jacobs lifted her hand and motioned to the couch.
“Why don’t you . . . ?”
“Nope, Johnny can’t stay. Johnny’s gotta go.” Hannah grabbed his arm and led him out the door, onto the porch, and down the steps to the gravel driveway. “Thanks for dropping by.” She turned and walked back to the house. The rejected caller was confused and defeated and eventually meandered to his car, tur
ned it around in front of the garage, and drove away.
Mr. Jacobs had a good hardy laugh, appreciating his daughter’s spunk. Her mother scolded her for being so impolite.
“Ah, leave her be, Ma. She spoke to him in the only language that foolish boy would understand. Hell, I bet he’ll be sniffing around here again tonight.”
“You didn’t invite him to the barbecue tonight, did you, Mom?”
“Well, I told Janice she could invite some of your old friends. She may have extended the invitation to him.”
“Oh good Lord, Mom!”
Mr. Jacobs laughed again.
“William, you want some lunch?” Helen asked.
“Yeah, it’s about that time,” Hannah’s father said, taking his cap off.
“Well, then you better stop laughing.”
Now Hannah was the one laughing.
Patches started barking again at a car coming up the driveway. Helen walked to the door.
“Who is it now, Mom? Better not be that Johnny Prichet coming back up here.” Hannah braced herself.
“I don’t recognize the car.”
Hannah and her dad joined her at the door to look, and she pushed her head forward to confirm her delight.
“Yes!” she shrieked with excitement, clenching a fist. When the car parked, Hannah burst open the door and ran to Cole as he climbed out of the rental car. She leaped into his arms and kissed and hugged him as he spun her around.
She whispered in his ear, “I’m so sorry. I love you so much.”
“Not your fault,” Cole whispered back. “It’s my fault, I’m sorry. I love you more.”
They kissed again. “Babe, I’m enjoying this, but I don’t want to be rude. I need to greet your parents.” Cole smiled at the couple on the porch.
“Oh shit. I really forgot they were there.” Hannah covered her mouth.
On the porch, Helen started to cry as William put his arm around her. The couple had never seen their daughter so happy. It was truly a gift for the aging couple to witness. Hannah took Cole by the hand and proudly led him to meet her parents. She was beaming.
“Mom, Dad, this is Cole Cameron.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs,” Cole said, shaking Mr. Jacobs’s extended hand before reaching over to her mother.
“Oh no,” she said, opening her arms, “we’re huggers in this home.” Cole gave her a hug, and she squeezed him tight. He thought he saw tears in her eyes when she pulled away. Then Hannah’s father gave Cole a half hug for good measure.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Hannah said with her hands over her mouth.
“Let me get your bag,” Mr. Jacobs said.
“Oh no, sir, I’ll get it. Thank you,” Cole ran back, opened the trunk and pulled out his roller board. Then Hannah showed him to her room.
“Cute room,” he said, looking around at the FSU decor where Hannah had gone to college. “Small bed,” he whispered.
“Noisy too,” Hannah said, pushing the mattress up and down and lifting her eyebrows.
“Honey, we’ve got some pulled pork for sandwiches if you two want some lunch,” Hannah’s mother called from down the hall.
Cole nodded, grinned, and widened his eyes at the thought.
“We’ll be right there, Mom,” Hannah yelled back. She wrapped her arms around Cole’s neck, stood on her toes, and kissed him again, letting him know how happy she was to see him. “Looks like you’ve lost a lot of weight,” she said, feeling him out.
“Gotta say, after being gone so much, I understand Darryl’s obsession with ‘good ole American food,’ as he calls it,” Cole said.
“Well, you’re in luck. Mom will keep you well fed.” She took his hand to lead him out of the bedroom, and he spanked her butt as she passed him.
“Hey, they may not have the superhuman hearing that Jess has, but they still have ears.” She laughed.
“Sorry, I just really like those jeans,” he said as they headed to the kitchen. “Oh, I forgot something. Go on. I will be right there.”
A minute later, he came to the table where the others were waiting for him. He didn’t realize that Mrs. Jacobs was not allowing anyone to eat until all were seated at the table. Mr. Jacobs seemed to be getting annoyed, ready to get on with his lunch so he could get back to mowing.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were waiting for me,” he said, pulling out the chair.
Helen replied, “That’s no problem, Cole. You came a long way, and we’re just glad to have you here. Isn’t that right, William?”
“Uh-huh,” Mr. Jacobs mumbled.
“I bet you’re hungry,” Helen said.
“Oh yes, ma’am,” Cole said, taking the paper plate with the sandwich she had prepared.
“Well, I know I sure am,” Mr. Jacobs grunted.
“William!” Helen scolded.
“Cole, try some of this hot sauce,” Mr. Jacobs shifted gears and tried to show some hospitality. “My sister Becky brings it to us from a small town in west Tennessee.”
Cole lifted the bun and put some of the sauce on the pork meat and took a bite. “Wow, that’s really good.”
“Well, we got extra bottles of it if you want to take some back with you,” the old man offered. Hannah clenched her jaw and starting tapping her foot.
“Sure, that’d be great, thank you.” Cole devoured his sandwich and realized everyone else was only halfway done. Hannah saw that he was embarrassed by it and bailed him out, explaining that he had gone on missions and missed American food. She jumped up to make him another one and looked over at him as he held up two fingers to signal he wanted two more sandwiches.
As Hannah brought his paper plate back, he lifted the box he had brought to the table. “Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs, thank you for letting me join you on your anniversary. I have something for you. I didn’t want to do it with other folks around, so I hope you don’t mind if I give it to you now.”
Mrs. Jacobs took the package. “Well, Cole, that is so sweet of you. Isn’t it, William?”
“Uh-huh,” Mr. Jacobs uttered between bites of his sandwich.
Hannah looked at Cole with surprise, and her mother caught the look. “Hannah, did you know about this?”
“No ma’am, I did not,” she said, spanking Cole’s leg as Cole dabbed more west Tennessee hot sauce on his two new sandwiches.
Mrs. Jacobs opened the box that had an eight-by-ten silver photo frame with a picture of their daughter receiving the FBI Medal for Meritorious Achievement and an engraving at the bottom. Both parents beamed with pride, but especially Hannah’s father, who shifted into a talkative mood.
His talk started with how he knew Hannah would make it in the FBI, and then somehow skipped back to the hot sauce, to the food he had to eat when serving in Vietnam, to the garden harvest they had this year, and then to the tractor that was acting up. Helen Jacobs sighed, knowing the train had left the station, while Cole finished off the third sandwich. He still felt hungry but was hit with a wave of exhaustion. Between the food, his lack of sleep, and the stories, he felt like he could just fall out of the chair. Hannah’s familiar stress mannerism was on display as she blew out her cheeks out and widened her eyes, hoping her dad was coming to the end of his monologue. She couldn’t take it anymore.
“Dad, don’t you have to get the yard finished?” she suggested.
“Uh-huh, I do.” Mr. Jacobs got up from the table but continued talking as he was getting his boots. Patches sniffed around him, looking for an opportunity to go out. “I had the chance to invest in that hot sauce, but your mom wouldn’t get on board.”
“Oh hush, William.”
“I’m just saying we could have been sitting on thirty acres instead of fifteen.” He and Patches finally slipped out.
“And what do we need with fifteen more acres of woods?”
Hannah saw Cole’s eyes fade and grabbed his plate. “Why don’t you go take a nap before the barbecue tonight?” she suggested, putting her hand on his shoulder.
&nbs
p; He reached up and patted her hand with his and contemplated the suggestion. He was conflicted. They had been apart so long, and he didn’t want to miss anything, but he had reached his limitations.
“That’s probably a good idea. If you don’t mind, I need a shower first. Then I’ll get a quick nap, but don’t let me sleep too long.”
Cole excused himself and followed through with the shower in the bathroom across the hall before crawling into the full-size squeaky bed, his feet hanging off the end. He was almost completely out when he felt the bed jostle as Hannah slid in next to him and cuddled against his back. He felt her skin against his. It brought peace and comfort. And then, as Hannah always described it, he flipped the switch and was out.
Chapter 29
Morgan County, Tennessee
There was a loud scream from outside the bedroom window that faced the front of the house. Cole shot up and leaped for his Glock before hearing another shrill laugh, followed by female voices chatting it up. It took a second for him to realize it was just the dramatic greeting that girls and even grown women sometimes did. He peered out the window to see Hannah hugging an old friend as a man, presumably the husband, got out of the car with two kids in tow.
Shit, how long was I out? Cole thought. Dammit. He scrambled to get clothes on and join the growing number of guests.
The barbecue was enjoyable for Cole, with nearly fifty people gathered at the farmhouse to wish the Jacobs well on their anniversary. But the reason the couple had invited folks was that Hannah had promised to be there and they knew neighbors and close friends would want to say hi to the local hero. Hannah’s father was walking around, proudly displaying the photo of his daughter receiving the award.
Hannah took Cole around and introduced him to everyone, even Johnny Prichet, who Janice had invited. Her old friend Janice was also the one that had jarred him like an alarm clock with her screaming. Cole chatted with Janice’s husband and watched as Hannah played with the kids, lifting the youngest, a two-year-old, up on her hips and walking around, pointing things out and answering the toddler’s unending line of questions.
