Jennifer's Garden

by Dianne Venetta

Did he?

  “What do you think?” he asked, hands moving to his hips, an eye to his handiwork.

  Absently brushing a loose strand of hair behind an ear, she smoothed down the back of her jacket. “That it looks fabulous. As does everything you do.”

  “Can I get that in writing?” Relaxed, easy, he chuckled.

  A clear sign he felt comfortable with her. Jennifer knew the last thing he needed was a referral from her, but played along, “Not before my lawyer gets a gander.”

  “I know your lawyer.” He grinned. “She’s a shark. I’d be wise to sharpen my skills of survival before I face her on a dark beach.”

  “Jax.” Her shift in tone was unmistakable. “Sam’s in Ohio.”

  Question stopped his jovial brown gaze cold.

  “Her brother-in-law had a stroke.”

  She felt the empathy immediately as his eyes filled with concern. “Oh no... How bad?”

  “It’s pretty serious. How bad...” She held out open palms. “We don’t know yet. It’s too soon to tell, but the good news is he’s hanging in there.”

  “Thank God,” Jax said, genuinely relieved.

  Compassion, she mused. Every day, with everyone.

  Pulling a glove from one hand, he wiped the sheen of sweat from his brow. Above them, the sky grew a shade darker, the air a degree cooler.

  “At this point, Sam may be struggling the most,” she went on. “She’s taking charge of four children under the age of nine; a trice more difficult for her than criminal defense.”

  It seemed Jax glimpsed the irony in that, too, but his brown eyes buoyed. “She’s a spitfire. If anyone can handle the challenge, she can.”

  Jennifer nodded and found it odd. He didn’t know Sam that well, yet to talk about her with him felt like they were discussing a mutual friend, the trials and trauma for which both could appreciate on Sam’s behalf. She sighed. “I hope so. Stroke recovery can be a long haul. Her sister’s going to need all the help she can get.”

  “She’s lucky to have Sam.”

  Her sentiments, exactly.

  The wind picked up, blowing hair across her face which she brushed instantly aside, her gaze fixed on his in this moment of alliance.

  “People need all the support they can get when pushed up against a wall. Family illness shoves hard.”

  “Yes,” Jennifer nodded again, thinking of her mother. Indeed it did. With sudden realization, she thought of his mother. Jax was no stranger to family illness.

  “My sister was the Rock of Gibraltar when my mom died. If it hadn’t been for her dragging me back to my right mind, I might have sunk into a nasty depression.”

  Jennifer feared the very same for herself when her mother passed. It was as if he sensed it.

  His gaze intensified and his voice softened. “My mom was the light of my life, Jennifer. But she always told me, life was about living, and nothing would disappoint her more than if I tossed mine into the gutter when she died.”

  “You two were close...”

  “Like H-two and oh. The basis of life. There didn’t live a woman more dear to my heart, another human being who loved me more. Mother and child... It’s a bond that can’t be duplicated.”

  “It must have been hard on you...” she murmured, feeling at a loss to express her feelings more fully. But fighting the fear of losing the very same bond in her own life, she felt inadequate.

  “She was the ground I walked on. The air I breathed. The day she died was the toughest in my life.”

  A tear slipped free from the corner of her eye, but Jax pretended not to see it. The air took on a cool mist, his expression turned warm and firm. “My mom was an incredible woman. She made me who I am today and I won’t disappoint her by being anything less than the best I can be.”

  Jennifer nodded, a streak of pride bolting through her. How proud his mother would be if she could hear him now.

  “Sam will be all right.”

  The depths in his eyes, the soft quality to his voice... His smile reached out to her, soothing as a caress on her cheek. So real, she could almost feel his hand on her face, his fingers trailing along her skin. The sensation stirred a need deep inside her.

  “Sam has you, Jennifer, and you’ll see her through.”

  She wanted to share his certainty, to feel it was true. “I haven’t been of much help, really...” she protested feebly, rubbing her arms against the sudden chill.

  “Just knowing you’re here is enough.” Brown eyes turned silken. “Trust me. When you’re in the middle of a crisis, having someone by your side means everything.”

  Overhead, a black cloud cracked open, followed by a flash of light. Jennifer’s head shot up. Her arms flung open. Rain fell in heavy sheets. Jax seemed just as surprised but was quicker to respond, making a mad dash for the house, gesturing for her to follow. Pelted by rain, the two ran up the steps and careened into a halt on the back porch.

  “Whoa!” he shouted above the thunderous rain. “Where did that come from?”

  “I have no idea!” she said, embarrassed by her sopping-wet appearance, amazed neither had seen it coming. She watched as he shook droplets of rain from his hair, then run a hand through it, rubbing out the remainder.

  She missed it, because she had been so caught up in their conversation, drawn in by his words...

  Words of empathy, one friend to another, that’s what they were. “I didn’t realize it was forecast to storm,” she mumbled, tripping over the last thought.

  That’s what they were.

  Words of empathy? Or were they friends...?

  Puzzled by her own assessment, she stared at him. The battering overhead increased its intensity, but she heard none of it, her mind ensnared by the question.

  “The weatherman probably didn’t either. I think they usually guess,” he added with a grin.

  That grin. That irrepressible sign of self-possession of his was fully intact. Jennifer brushed hands over either side of her wet head. She smoothed her hair into place, squeezed the excess water from her ponytail. Empathy, self-possession, contentment...

  They were qualities in a man that held strong appeal, she could not deny. Beneath this man’s rough exterior lay a heart of gold. “Would you like to come in?”

  “Sure,” he replied.

  She meant until the rain stopped, but her words held invitation—like a first date. A sudden swarm of nerves rose in her belly. With a sideways glance to the yard, the rain, the pounding storm, she opened the door.

  Unable to retract the invitation, and not sure she wanted to, she gestured for him to follow.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  Jax wiped the mud from his boots on the mat and entered. “Water would be great.”

  “Have a seat.” Jennifer indicated the breakfast table, and quickly slipped out of her blazer. Her white button-down dry, she felt a tad more normal. A relief.

  Hanging her jacket over the back of a chair, she retrieved two bottles of water from the refrigerator.

  Jax was still standing when she returned. “I’m a bit wet,” he said with a sheepish smile. “I don’t want to ruin your chairs.”

  A fidgety tickle brushed beneath her ribs. “Don’t be silly, Jax. A little water never hurt anything.”

  “I’m covered in more than a little water,” he said, amusement dancing in his eyes.

  She caught the implication. Dirt, grime. Somehow, she minded none of it. “They’re made of wood. From the outside. I hear it’s pretty durable stuff.”

  “I appreciate it, but I’m good.”

  Jennifer handed him the bottle, then fussed with the half-dry, half-wet tangles of her hair, patting them down for a more groomed appearance. The attempt was weak, but the effort made her feel better.

  “Nice drawing.” He indicated the sketch pad laying open on the counter. “You do it?”

  A flush of self-consciousness swept through her. “Yes. I was, uh, playing around with some pencils
the other day and—“

  “You’re good.”

  The flat statement of fact chopped off her attempt to downplay the drawing. She grazed the floor with her gaze before returning to him. “Thank you.”

  “You have quite a talent.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” she said, pride bursting in her chest. “It’s just something I enjoy...”

  A sudden boom of thunder engulfed the house, pulling her gaze outdoors. “It’s really coming down, isn’t it?”

  She sways and rocks, giving herself to the passionate throes, then explodes, high above the landscape in a spectacular light show, releasing herself in a thunderous downpour, bathing the earth with her riches.

  An involuntary smile crossed her lips.

  “Something funny?”

  “No,” she said with a quick and determined grin. “No, there is not.” Closing her fist around her water bottle, she tamped down the jumpy nerves in her chest.

  Mildly confused, Jax took a swallow of water.

  As she watched him, her mind considered the situation. On the one hand, she was grateful the storm had saved them from the slide in conversation. On the other, she enjoyed getting to know him. Especially the relationship with his mother. It was uncommon for mother and son to be so close. Again, the thought banged around inside her head. Why not married, with children? Wouldn’t the two go hand in hand? “You said your sister helped you through your mom’s death,” Jennifer began, willing his openness to continue. “Are you still close with her?”

  “Very. She’s all I have.”

  “No other siblings?”

  He shook his head. “How about you? Any brothers or sisters?”

  “None,” she said, careless to the drop in her voice, no longer guarded around him. “But Sam always had enough for both of us, with two sisters and three brothers.”

  “Wow. Sam’s the lucky woman again.”

  Jennifer never thought of her friend in such terms. Lucky? Crowded, encumbered maybe—but lucky? She dropped a hand to the back of the chair and zeroed in on Jax. “Why no kids, Jax? If Sam’s the lucky one, why wouldn’t you marry and have your own? Don’t you like them?”

  He chuckled, clearly amused. “Oh, I love them, but like you and Sam, my sister has enough for both of us!”

  “But that’s different than having your own...”

  “I realize that, but I get my fill. Believe me, Uncle Jax is a staple in the Bronson household. Like peanut butter and jelly, I’m there on a regular basis.”

  Jennifer cast an admonishing smile at his tease. “And no Mrs. Right?” she asked, acutely aware of the instant bolt to her pulse.

  “Haven’t met the woman who can fill those shoes.”

  “Never?”

  He shook his head again, but this time his demeanor fell a notch. “That’s a hefty order. The kind of love required to hold down a marriage, to weather the storms of life...” His eyes averted her gaze, making a distinct dodge to the living room. “No, I’ve never met that kind of woman.”

  Jennifer took a sip of water and analyzed the evasion. Really never, or was this the standard put-off from a man uninterested in sharing his private life.

  “Besides,” Jax said, forcing a smile to swipe away the unwelcome brevity as he faced her once again. “That’s a walk the plank proposition.”

  She gaped at him. “What?”

  “In my book, marriage is for keeps. Once you commit, there’s no turning back. Sunny days, stormy nights...” A gleam entered his eyes as he glanced toward the backyard. While the rain continued its cold wet assault outside, the mood indoors had distinctly heated. Jax returned full board and secured her in his sights. “A marriage swallows you whole. From the inside out, two become one and a new journey is begun. For better or for worse,” he added, a nip to his tone, a hitch up to his lips. “Like I said, it’s an all or nothing proposition. Rain or shine, you better be damn sure of your intentions before you make that dive.”

  Jennifer liked what she heard. He wasn’t a player. For him, it was about love, partnership.

  Much like it was for her. “You’re quite a philosopher, Jackson Montgomery.”

  He shrugged. “I guess. Life on the sea does that to a man. Gives him plenty of time for thought.”

  The reference gave her pause. Life on the sea awaited him. It would take him far away, their paths most probably never crossing again. Once he was finished here, he would be gone.

  The deluge continued overhead as Jennifer retreated into the quiet of her mind. No place left to go with the subject, both seemed content with the silence.

  Comforting. Simple companionship, it demanded nothing, yet filled the space with warmth, friendship. Jax was easy to be around, easy to look at—particularly so at the moment. Beneath the soft lighting, brown eyes gazed at her. Soft as suede, his laugh lines mellowed, he was private and reflective. It was a different Jax than she was used to seeing. More contemplative than usual, she felt a sense of depth, intensity. It was clear this man was solid through and through. No longer unnerving, she felt comfort in the privacy of his presence. Calm. Peaceful.

  Except for his hair. It looked as though a bomb went off! The comparison tugged a smile from her lips.

  It caught his attention and he smiled in turn, breaking the silence between them. “Can I ask you something?”

  She nodded, eager to continue the intimacy, the warm connection running fluidly between them.

  “Tell me if I’m out of line, but why don’t you have your mother here,” his eyes roamed about the room, “staying with you, instead of an assisted living facility?”

  The question cut her in half.

  Lightning exploded outside in several flashes of light, the expected round of thunder almost immediate. Around her, the kitchen turned a shade darker, the room a degree cooler.

  Caught within his scrutiny, Jennifer crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I’m sorry,” he said at once. “That’s none of my business.”

  With a shake of her head, she blurted, “It’s okay.”

  “No it’s not,” he replied, eyes filling with remorse.

  “She refused.”

  The point-blank statement caught him on the chin. “Refused?”

  “My mom is a very independent woman, Jax. She didn’t want to be a burden. She refused the suggestion outright. Short of taking her against her will, there was no way she’d agree.” Jennifer sighed. “She said she preferred Fairhaven, because she felt more comfortable there. She’d have her own private room, grounds to stroll. The physicians were professionals—fully equipped to deal with her daily needs.” She hugged her arms more tightly to her chest. Where I wasn’t.

  Across the room, a hefty pile of patient folders sitting on the bureau caught her eye. I was too busy.

  “She wanted her own space,” he said.

  The statement drew a slow nod from her head. She peered at him more closely. Jax always seemed to get it, always seemed to have his thumb square on the pulse of the situation. “Yes, I imagine so...” But Jennifer knew there was more to it than space. Beatrice Hamilton wanted to maintain her dignity, her self-respect. She knew her presence would be an intrusion on her daughter’s busy life.

  “That must be hard on you,” Jax said.

  “It is,” she murmured. Glancing away, she cursed the tears that threatened to spill.

  “Parents get a little funny about their kids assuming the caregiver role. They think they have a corner on the market.”

  She shrugged. Soon, it wouldn’t matter any more. Her mother would be gone. A fact neither could avoid.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Damn him. Standing rigid, Jennifer was no longer the capable can-do woman, but instead a helpless child, deathly afraid of her mother’s passing. It was a devastating emotion to feel helpless—powerless—and one he remembered all too well. If it hadn’t been for his sister, he would have immersed himself in the isolation of grief—gladly—because the thought of life without his mother
was unthinkable.

  Why did he have to go and ask such a stupid question, anyway?

  Transfixed by her immobile body, he wanted to take her in his arms. He wanted to chase away her fears, tell her everything would be all right. He wanted to brush his hand over her hair, her face, give her the warmth of another human being, the connection he knew she so desperately needed right now.

  But that would be strictly out-of-bounds. It wasn’t his place to console her, yet it was his fault she was hurting.

  Angry with himself but determined to fix it, he took a slow, deep breath and limited himself to the power of words; his only tools available. They had worked for Delaney when she walked him off the ledge. They could work for him.

  “My mom used to tell me...look at the mother...you’ll learn a lot about the daughter.”

  She turned, easing a wary gaze toward him.

  “Your mom sounds like a strong and independent woman, Jennifer. Bright as the sun, solid as the earth. She has her own mind. Like you.”

  Her expression opened a sliver.

  It was all the invitation he needed. “You’re both doctors, right? You both care for people and about people... Both determined, you know what you want and how to get it. I’ve seen that first hand.”

  This earned him a small smile.

  “I’ll bet your mom knows what she wants, too. Probably knows what’s best for you, and everyone around you—appreciated by those of us still searching for direction.”

  Her quiet chuckle relieved some of the pressure building in his chest. It was working. He was helping. “She loves you, Jennifer. She knows what’s right. Moms generally do.” He smiled, enjoying the sight of her relaxing, letting go.

  Then he became serious. “You know what’s right, too,” he said. “And you’re doing it. To the best of your ability, you’re doing it.”

  Tears shone in her eyes, mixing vulnerability with gratitude.

  Desire nearly leaped out of his skin—but he kept himself in check. The last thing he wanted to do was send her scampering off like a scared fawn. He wanted her with him, wanted her close. “Forgive me for intruding on your privacy.” Her gaze clung to him. “I was a fool to even ask.”