Carved in Stone

by Donna McDonald

  “You’re on,” Shane told his brother at last, telling himself not to worry even when Michael laughed. “You just lost a thousand dollars bro. You better head back to your work when we get this done. Make sure you have the money by December. I’m finishing my doctorate this year.”

  Michael just laughed at his declaration. “Well, the ink isn’t dry yet on anything except that tattoo on your arm.” His attention was suddenly caught by several kids carrying paintbrushes and cleaning rags into a room in the hallway. “Shane, I think we found the art room.”

  When they walked to the door, they saw a tall, wild-haired woman in tight faded jeans and cowboy boots milling around the room. She was a good six inches taller than most of the students.

  Shane whistled under his breath. “Wow,” he said, making Michael chuckle beside him.

  “Yeah. And she looks just that good from every angle,” Michael said easily. “She likes my art. I want to keep her.”

  “You want to keep her? Why? You got something going on for Dad’s woman?” Shane asked in shock, making his brother laugh again.

  “Yeah, I do,” Michael said easily, staring at his brother with what he suspected were laughing eyes. “I’m mercenary, but it’s not as creepy as it sounds. I want another artist in the family and a stepmother who isn’t going to make Dad feel guilty for what he loves to do. We’ve all ended up with women who criticized or outright hated our art. You’d think making money at something would prove it was worth doing, but no—that’s not enough either.”

  Shane snickered at the tirade he’d heard a hundred times since their parent’s divorce and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Gee, Michael, why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

  “You’re lucky we’re in a school,” Michael warned.

  Shane laughed and shook his brother’s shoulder. “Relax, bro. We’re here. We’ll do what we can for Dad. We’ll have to work on us some other time.”

  Michael rolled his eyes to the ceiling, but ended up making eye contact with Jessica Daniels as his gaze came back down. She walked across the room and stood in front of them, hands on her hips.

  “Mr. Larson—” Jessica began.

  “—Michael,” he corrected quickly, holding up a hand to stall her questions and comments. “And this blond giant next to me is my younger brother Shane.”

  Jessica had to look up slightly to meet the gaze of the tall man flanking Michael Larson. She studied his eyebrow piercing and tattoo. The intimidating body art didn’t match his eyes, she concluded. His eyes were thoughtful, caring, and intelligent. To her artistically trained eye, he was obviously a big faker, even if a cute one.

  She snorted and narrowed her gaze until her eyes were slits.

  “Who are you trying to scare with that disguise,” Jessica asked, letting her gaze rake Shane from head to toe. “I had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting your mother. You look just like her with all that jewelry you’re wearing.”

  Michael burst out laughing, but stopped at Shane’s glare.

  “Maybe redheads have a natural immunity to you,” Michael said, shrugging, earning an even more furious look. “You know, like they do to poison ivy.”

  “That’s a myth,” Shane retorted, then sighed at taking the bait his brother loved to dish out. Shane looked away from Michael, back to the person they came to see. He reached out a hand to her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Daniels. We came by to see if we could talk to you about a situation we have with our father.”

  Jessica took Shane’s hand, shook it briefly, then dropped it. The younger Larson sounded like he belonged in a suit and tie instead of ripped jeans and T-shirt with a rock band on it.

  “Well, your brother’s manners are nicer than yours at least,” Jessica said, swinging her gaze to a still snickering Michael before walking back into the room and away from both of them. “I’m sorry, but your father and I have nothing more to say to each other. I think it’s very sweet of the two of you to come by on his behalf, but I’m just not interested.”

  “That’s too bad. Dad’s really interested in you,” Shane replied softly back, mirroring her speech and tone. “In fact, Dad was so interested in you that he looked you up at the library the other day. He knows about what happened to you, and he spent three hours studying your art.”

  Jessica heard the mild accusation in Shane’s tone, but she wasn’t offended. She admired his nerve, but refused to let him, or his charming brother, convince her to get involved with a man her instincts were warning her against. She especially refused to be influenced by the fact that they obviously loved their father enough to come and confront her, though it was dreadfully awkward.

  Sure, it was proof Will’s sons had more integrity than most young people, but Jessica still didn’t have to feel obligated to care about what was going on with a man she wasn’t even dating. Besides—whatever Will was feeling right now, he would survive it. Jessica couldn’t worry about Will when she had her own emotional survival to worry about.

  Turning her back to Michael and Shane, Jessica went back to tidying the room. The students had all vanished, and as usual, most had not put their art tools back in storage.

  Typical, Jessica thought, very typical. It would take another half hour of cleaning before she could leave for the day.

  “So now Will knows all about me and my terrible past. If I could have, I would have made sure he never found out,” Jessica said honestly. “There was no reason for him to ever have to know.”

  Michael cleared his throat. Revealing a hard truth always choked him, but he had learned in his life that he couldn’t hold it inside and stay sane.

  “Our mother told him,” Michael said quietly. “She recognized you, but I had already started figuring it out myself. Whatever Dad’s ideas about who you were when he met you, he didn’t see this coming. You have to understand—he’s the kind of guy who cries at the sad part of movies. Since he cares a hell of a lot about you, needless to say he took finding out your truth pretty hard.”

  “Well, I appreciate it might have shocked him, but I don’t need his pity or anyone’s,” Jessica said confidently, carrying items to stack by the sink, and carrying a rag back to wipe the now empty tables. “It all happened thirty years ago. I almost never think about it anymore. I took the actions that made sense to me at the time. I have a good life and I regret nothing.”

  “How do you feel about Dad’s regrets about how he’s handled things with you? Would you want deal with that?” Shane asked, pleased that she finally stopping wiping the tables to listen. “He’s made himself ill worrying about how he’s treated you.”

  “What in the world would Will have to regret with me? You father never did anything terrible. He got a little angry with me once, but I’m a hell of lot tougher than that. He came to his senses long before I felt the need to—maim him,” Jessica said on a laugh, remembering at the last minute to keep her language less expressive within the school walls.

  “Would you be willing to come tell him the same thing?” Shane asked. “He’s been in his room, brooding and not eating, since he found out about you three days ago. First he cried himself sick, and now he thinks he’s the worst man in the world. He’s convinced that he’s scarred you further. I’m sure he’s replayed every interaction you’ve had and not seen any of them in a good light.”

  Jessica stopped, swallowed hard, and closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to think of Will suffering for her, so she simply refused to acknowledge it.

  “Your father is a smart man. He’ll eventually get over this. The reason I’m not interested in him has nothing to do with him getting angry and kissing me while he was upset. He kissed me twice after that and should know that I—well, whatever. Will’s a grown man. He can figure this all out on his own.”

  “Maybe,” Shane agreed easily. “He could probably get over it much faster if you would come talk to him.”

  Michael walked over closer and looked around her until she finally met his gaze.


  Jessica had to close her eyes to shut out the sincerity in his pleading look.

  “Please, come see Dad,” Michael pleaded, not caring about begging. “You’re all he can talk about now that he knows. We’re really worried he’s not going to get over this until he knows he hasn’t done you any serious harm. Seeing your rape art made him feel guilty for how he’s treated you.”

  Damn Will and his sensitive sons, Jessica thought. She opened her eyes then, but instead of looking at Michael, she ended up looking directly into Shane’s soft, worried gaze. If that giant man got teary-eyed she would be a goner, Jessica thought.

  “What’s the tattoo on your arm about?” Jessica asked to distract them from their pleading, nodding at the ink peeking from the edge of Shane’s sleeve.

  Shane took the change of subject with grace. He could see Jessica Daniels was wrestling with herself about getting involved.

  “I’m a graphic novelist. This is my hero,” Shane said, pulling up his sleeve to his shoulder so she could see the whole piece. “I call him the Winged Protector.”

  “I’ve read your work. My nephew loves those books,” she told Shane, sighing. “You definitely know how to create a hero.”

  “I used a great role model,” Shane said, not afraid to use the opening she unknowingly handed it to him. “He’s having a dark moment right now and has locked himself in his room to brood. Want to be the heroine in this story and save him?”

  “I doubt I’m as good as your heroines, but at least that’s an original line to take in your argument,” she said quietly.

  To keep from bursting into tears, Jessica turned and looked down at Michael from her few extra inches.

  “You look just like your father,” she told him resentfully. “But you’re not as nice as he is, are you?”

  “No,” Michael said, unsurprised at her observation. “I’m too honest to be considered nice. Shane looks like Mom, but I got the rest of her personality. Shane’s more like Dad on the inside.”

  “Well, I’m not very nice either, certainly not as nice as your father. I really, really do not want to do this. I feel a need to save myself,” Jessica told Michael, gaining a relieved smile from him as he figured out what she was admitting. “I’m not sure what good it will do, but I’ll be over later tonight. I will expect you two to make yourselves scarce after I get there. I don’t want an audience when I talk to Will about my personal stuff.”

  “You have our word,” Shane promised, grinning in relief. “I won’t let Michael stay and listen, no matter how much he begs.”

  “I am disowning you as my brother,” Michael told him. “Don’t believe him, Jessica. He tries to make me look bad all the time.”

  Jessica laughed tiredly at their bickering. On impulse, she reached out to hug Michael. “I bet you inherited more of your father’s personality than you realize, and I still really like your art.”

  “I like yours too, especially the new stuff,” Michael told her, hugging back. “Thanks for coming to see Dad. We really are worried.”

  “Coming over tonight still doesn’t mean that I’m interested in him,” Jessica told Michael, straightening and going back to her work.

  Michael just smiled as he walked back to Shane. “Yeah, but Shane and I have faith in Dad being able to change your mind.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Jessica warned, putting hands on her hips again.

  Shane and Michael exchanged a knowing look but only smiled at her as they left.

  After they had gone, Jessica stood in her classroom shaking her head and sighing. She‘d had some very unusual men pass through her life over the years, but this was the first time she’d ever had someone’s grown children playing matchmaker. Worse than Brooke pushing Will to kiss her, his sons were actually hoping their father would seduce her. If she hadn’t been practically ill herself about knowing Will had seen what had happened to her, Jessica would have laughed more at their involvement.

  As it was, she was struggling damn hard not to break down about Will finding out that she had been raped. Though why she had ever held the fantasy that she was going to avoid Will finding out was beyond her. Her violent past had ruined every relationship Jessica had had for so long that she had learned to insulate herself from the pity, the reaction, and the physical withdrawal when the man she was sleeping with found out.

  It was at least a little easier with Will because they weren’t lovers. It was also a little harder because she knew her past would prevent them from ever being lovers now. But what did she care, anyway? Getting more involved was what her instincts were warning her not to do.

  Maybe they could be friends, Jessica mused, sniffing back tears and wiping her nose on the sleeve of her paint covered shirt. Will would probably be okay with that now. He would probably be one of those men who felt the need to save her from her sexuality. She had known plenty of those.

  Tears of regret flowed steady as Jessica locked the door and walked to her car. She’d had to gather a handful of toilet tissue from the bathroom to stem the flow.

  Despite her assurances to herself that she wasn’t interested, it was still damn hard to accept Everett Williams was never again going to back her against a booth or hold her too tightly in his arms. Playfully restraining her was the kind of thing her husband used to do to her, the kind of action she hadn’t let anyone do since him. At least, she hadn’t tolerated it from anyone until Will had come along.

  “Damn you, Will,” Jessica said, cursing him again for what she felt.

  Chapter 8

  “Shane, I’m fine,” Will told his youngest son, who sat arms-crossed in a chair beside his bed. “I’m not ill. I’m just not feeling very social. You and Michael go on and eat without me. I’ll grab something later.”

  “You’re lying,” Shane accused baldly, not flinching from the weak glare his father managed to send his way. “You need to eat a normal meal. It’s been three damn days, Dad.”

  “Look, you bullied me into the shower and I took one. I’m going to rest now, and then I’ll get up and eat later. Don’t you have a date or something?” Will demanded, knowing Shane could be just as stubborn as he under the right circumstances.

  “Michael and I are going out. We don’t want to worry about you while we’re gone, so we got you a babysitter,” Shane told him, hoping his Dad would erupt in anger over it.

  “Good—they can watch TV and I’ll sleep,” Will said resentfully, stretching back out on the bed, careful to keep his wide open eyes focused on just the ceiling. If he closed his eyes too long without really sleeping, he would just see her art all over again. He’d see piece after piece of four figures, three men doing unspeakable things to a woman, an obviously pregnant woman.

  At the thought of what she had depicted in her work, his stomach clenched. Will was seized by urges so violent he was frightened of what he might do under their influence. It was the closest he’d ever come to wanting to kill someone. Each man had only served a term of ten years, and all three were out now. Will thought a lifetime in prison would never have been enough punishment for what they had done.

  He also thought making the rape art was the bravest act of creating he had ever seen done by anyone. Neither the rapists nor the world would ever be able to forget it as long as knowledge of Jessica Daniels and her work survived.

  Jessica, Will thought, his heart contracting with pain for her. She probably still carried what had happened inside her like a ticking bomb. She probably had memories and triggers that defied analysis. Her daughter Brooke, the woman he’d met, was the child that had survived the attack. And Jessica had lived through it too, if you could call never loving anyone again living, Will concluded.

  He remembered pulling Jessica across him as she rode his thigh, how they had both been turned on and trying to come to terms with it. The thought of never having that innocent level of arousal with her again made Will want to sleep and just forget about ever getting up. Three days ago he had gotten everything in the world he wanted, and learning
about her past was like having it brutally yanked away.

  “Dad,” Shane yelled, clapping his hands together loudly. “Stop that. Stop drifting off and pay attention to me. Michael and I are going to be leaving shortly. I was saying you can send us a text when you want us to come home.”

  Will did close his eyes then, sighing at the edge of panic in Shane’s tone. He wasn’t intentionally trying to worry anyone. He just needed some time to figure out how to be reasonable about this information before he went insane.

  Will finally heard the doorbell ringing and was relieved. It meant both boys would be leaving soon. He’d pull himself together until they left and then send the well-meaning babysitter away as soon as the boys were gone.

  All he wanted was to be alone.

  ***

  Michael pulled open the door and saw a freshly showered, still wet-haired woman standing there. She smelled lovely, but looked way too fragile to be dealing with his father.

  And she’d been crying.

  Seeing her red and swollen eyes tore at Michael’s gut. He had a fleeting moment of wondering if it was right to ask for Jessica’s help when she didn’t look a whole lot better than his Dad did at the moment. Then he pushed his concern aside. Maybe his father wasn’t the only person who needed to talk, Michael decided.

  “Everything took longer than I anticipated,” Jessica explained. “Finally, I just decided to come over as I was because I couldn’t pull myself together more.”

  Michael shook his head. “Don’t apologize. You look great, and we’re glad you’re here. Shane has finally lost patience. Dad keeps drifting off when we try to talk to him and can’t seem to hold a conversation for two minutes.”

  Jessica nodded and let out the sigh she had been holding in for hours.

  “Can I call you something other than Ms. Daniels? Formality seems odd in this situation,” Michael said.

  “Sure. Call me Jessica,” she agreed quietly. “Point me to him so I can get this over with.”

  Michael reached out his hand and took one of Jessica’s in his. “Thank you for doing this Jessica—whatever happens. Shane and I are leaving as soon as you give us the word.”