by Iris Morland
“Okay,” the class mumbled.
When the bell rang, Heath stood by the door and hugged each of his students, giving each one a bit of advice or encouragement. Jessie hugged him so hard he was a bit worried she’d cracked one of his ribs.
Heath sat at his desk after all of his students were gone. He needed to pack up his things, but he couldn’t find the energy to do so right then.
Johnny had taken everything from him: his job, his reputation. He wanted to blame Johnny for taking Jubilee away from him, except that had been his own fault. He’d been so afraid to tell her the truth that he’d driven her away.
He put his head in his hands, wishing he could simply sink into the ground and never come out again.
This was how Harrison found him. “Am I intruding?” he asked, knocking on the door frame. “Sara told me you were still here.”
Heath looked up in surprise. He hadn’t talked to Heath since their fight that night after the hot tub escapade. The bruise on Harrison’s jaw had faded to a light yellowish-green. To Heath’s greater surprise, Harrison seemed sheepish. He’d never seen his friend be anything but confident.
“So, you really resigned?”
“I did. It was for the best,” Heath replied.
Harrison grimaced. “This is my fault. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. If there’s anything I can do—”
“It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t get that article published; Johnny’s crony did. And somehow I feel like this would’ve happened eventually, anyway.” Heath sighed. “What are you doing here?” His anger toward Harrison had dissipated in the intervening weeks, although he’d wanted to blame Harrison for Jubilee ending things between them. After a lot of reflection with a healthy dose of whiskey, Heath had grudgingly realized that he probably would’ve acted just as stupidly if it had been Rose.
“I’m asking myself the same question. Well, really, Sara told me if I didn’t make things right, she’d never talk to me ever again.” His mouth twisted wryly. “Never cross a pregnant woman, Heath.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Look, I messed up. I did. I should never have tried to interfere like that, and I never should have told Jubilee about your past. That was for you to tell, not me.”
Heath rubbed the back of his neck. “I won’t say I’m sorry for punching you, because you deserved that. But I should’ve been upfront with Jubilee from the beginning. I should’ve been honest with you, too.” He frowned. “Shouldn’t you be saying this to Jubilee?”
“Oh, believe me, I’ve tried. She won’t return my calls or texts beyond to tell me she never wants to speak to me again. I’ve been tempted to show up at her apartment, but Sara told me I’d be a huge idiot to force things.”
Heath felt a pain in the center of his chest from just hearing Jubilee’s name. God, he missed her. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since that night. He’d been filled with regrets. He’d wanted to go to her, to tell her how sorry he was, but at the same time, he wanted to respect her wishes. She’d ended things. He would do what she asked and leave her alone—even if it was like a small death every day he lived without her.
Harrison grimaced. “I won’t say I’m thrilled about my baby sister dating you, or any man. To me, she’ll always be that little girl who was so sick. So very, very sick. You didn’t know her when she couldn’t walk from the pain, or when she lost all her hair, or hear how she’d beg our mother to make it all go away.” He swallowed hard. “I know she’s an adult now. I know she’s healthy. That doesn’t mean it’s easy for me to reconcile the two different versions of her.”
He narrowed his eyes at Heath. “I saw the way Jubilee looked at you. We all knew how she felt about you. And although she won’t talk to me, I’ve heard enough from Sara to know she’s hurting ever since you two ended things.”
Heath almost told Harrison to stop talking, yet the other part of him rejoiced in hearing that Jubilee still cared for him. He wanted to go to her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his entire life.
“She told me she couldn’t trust me again,” Heath explained with a deep sigh. “I don’t think she’ll forgive me.”
“Do you love her?”
It was stupid, but a flush crawled up Heath’s cheeks. Probably because he was talking about this with her brother. Except he couldn’t ignore Harrison’s question—and at this point, he could no longer lie to himself.
“I love her,” he said quietly. “I always will.”
Harrison blew out a breath. Slapping Heath on the shoulder, he said, “Then why the hell are you standing here talking to me? Go to her. Tell her your feelings. Jubilee loves you, man. Believe me, one of the stupidest things you can ever do is let love slip through your fingertips. It’s a gift.”
Heath’s heart lifted at those words. He wanted to drive straight to her apartment, to tell her he loved her, that he wanted to be with her. He glanced at the clock—then groaned.
“She’s at work right now. I can’t exactly confess my undying love for her as she’s getting people cinnamon rolls.”
Harrison grinned. “Probably not. Want help packing up? Then maybe we can get drinks until Jubilee gets off work.”
“It’s a deal.”
18
Jubilee shivered as her car very slowly heated up. After a lot of persuasion (or, in Jubilee’s mind, nagging), she’d agreed to go to her parents’ place for dinner. Lisa had told her she wanted to talk, which Jubilee knew really meant listening to Lisa lecture her about whatever she’d decided Jubilee had done wrong.
She’d never understand why Lisa was so set on keeping Jubilee from living her own life. She’d always be grateful for everything Lisa had sacrificed for Jubilee during her treatments, but when would Lisa finally realize that she had to let go?
Jubilee had found an apartment in Seattle and had begun packing up her things for her move. Although it was tinged with sadness and loss, it also provided a distraction from thinking about Heath every hour of every day. Last night, though, she’d read her infamous list for the thousandth time before taking a lighter and burning it until it was nothing but ashes.
At least she wouldn’t be stuck in Fair Haven, running into Heath all the time and trying to act like he hadn’t broken her heart. She’d start over in Seattle. Maybe she’d even find another man—one who didn’t lie to her.
If all else failed, she’d get a cat. Or five. Living as a crazy cat lady spinster held a lot of appeal in that moment.
“Why aren’t you working?” she grumbled at her car’s heater. It was currently blowing what she’d call lukewarm air, and although it generally didn’t get too far below freezing in Fair Haven, it had gotten cold enough for there to be some ice on the streets. A wicked wind blew, shaking the trees and making Jubilee’s car wobble when a particularly strong gust caught the vehicle.
When she looked up from fiddling with her heater, she saw in her rearview mirror that a car tailed her. Not in the mood to deal with some asshole driver, she sped up, but the car only sped up, too, keeping on her tail. Considering the car could easily pass her in the left lane since there was no one around, Jubilee didn’t understand the point of tailing her. Besides, she was going at least ten miles over the speed limit. This guy needed to chill.
Her phone rang. “Hello?”
“Good, you picked up.” It was Harrison. “Are you coming to Mom and Dad’s for dinner?”
Jubilee was tempted to toss her phone away, but she didn’t need Harrison hounding her even more at their parents’ place. “Yeah, I’m driving there now.”
“I know you’ve been avoiding me—”
“More like ignoring you.”
He grunted a laugh. “And you’re very talented at it, I have to say. Maybe even better than Lizzie. Can we talk tonight, though? To clear the air? I’m sorry, Jubi. I messed up. I shouldn’t have interfered like I did.”
“That’s the understatement of the year.” Her anger, though, melted at his sincerity. She’d missed Harriso
n, her entire family. They drove her crazy, but they loved her.
She wanted to say no. She wanted to tell her brother that he was the worst and that she hated him, but right then, it all seemed so petty. At the very least, she could hear him out. It didn’t mean she had to offer him forgiveness.
“If you can keep Mom from bugging me, we can talk.”
“It’s a deal.” He paused, and then he said, “I saw Heath, you know.”
Her breath caught. “How is he?” Then she cursed herself for sounding so eager.
“He resigned from his job.”
At that, she inhaled sharply. “What? Why? And in the middle of the school year?”
“Apparently some parents got wind of his arrest and essentially forced him out. He thought it was best if he went quietly.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“I agree. He’s a great teacher.”
Jubilee’s heart ached for Heath. What would he do now? Would another school hire him? He loved teaching, and she knew it had been his dream for a long time. He’d made a mistake in not telling her the truth, but that hadn’t meant that she’d wanted him to lose his job.
“I can’t believe it,” she said. “Will he stay here in town?”
“I don’t know. I doubt it.” Harrison blew out a breath. “Hey, Sara’s calling me, but we’ll talk when you get here. Oh, and Jubilee?”
“Yeah?”
“Heath loves you. If you feel the same, don’t let him go. Believe me: you’ll regret it.”
She mumbled a goodbye. She tossed her phone onto the front seat right as she came upon a curve in the road. The Thorntons lived up in the mountains above Fair Haven, and the road to their place was twisty and often deserted.
When Jubilee came around the corner, she heard an engine revving and the car that had been tailing her began to pass her. He sped past her, making a point to drive right next to her for a moment, as if to be as annoying as possible.
Except the car wasn’t passing her. He stayed in the left lane—going the wrong way—and Jubilee glanced over at the driver in confusion. She saw a man she didn’t recognize. He grinned at her, and her heart stopped.
As they came to another curve in the road, he inched forward, and she thought he’d finally pass her. Lights flashed, and a car coming the opposite direction honked. Jubilee’s breath caught, expecting a head-on collision, but the driver cut in front of her just in time. The other car’s horn echoed into the night.
Jubilee slowed down, hoping the driver would drive on and leave her alone. There were no exits to take, and since this was such a narrow road, turning around was nearly impossible, especially in the dark. Her palms were sweaty from fear, her heart thumping a jagged rhythm. She didn’t want to stop and make herself even more vulnerable. At least her car offered her some amount of protection.
If I can just get to the next exit, I can lose him. It’s not far.
The driver slowed down again and got into the other lane a second time. Instead of simply driving next to her, he swerved toward her. Jubilee was barely able to keep him from hitting her. She righted the car and pushed on the gas. She had to get out of here—now. This guy was trying to kill her.
The driver wasn’t giving up. He swerved toward her a second time, and she avoided colliding with him. But when she yanked the steering wheel to the right, her tires caught on a patch of ice. Her car quickly careened out of control, spinning like a top before it began to fall down the nearby embankment. Its momentum flipped it over, and it rolled down the hill like a tumbleweed.
Jubilee screamed as she was carried down the hill, upside down, right side up, upside down again. Glass shattered, bursting around her, and the noise deafened her.
She knew in that moment that she was going to die. She wished she’d told Heath she loved him one last time. She wished she’d let Harrison explain his actions. She wished she could’ve hugged her mom and told her that she’d be okay, that she didn’t need her to protect her like she had when she’d been a sick little girl.
It was Heath’s smile she saw before pain exploded inside her skull and then the world went dark.
* * *
When Heath needed to think, he sometimes drove to the highest hill in Fair Haven and stared out over the town. Tonight, the sky was clear, and he could make out a number of constellations despite the lights below. It was freezing cold, and his breath fogged in front of him. He didn’t care. The cold kept him awake, and it forced him to keep feeling.
At least one hundred feet below was a twisting, winding road, although few people drove on it, especially if it was remotely icy. Heath had counted on this. No sounds of traffic or cars to disturb his thoughts.
He didn’t know where he would go or what he’d do now that he no longer had a job. He could go to Seattle, or one of the suburbs. Maybe Olympia. He could even move to Portland if he really wanted to get far away.
He smiled grimly. He knew very well that no matter how far he moved, he’d never forget about Jubilee.
Harrison’s words today had stuck inside him like a burr, and Heath wanted to scratch at it until he bled. Did Heath still have a chance with Jubilee? Or had he ruined it?
She loves you. Heath wanted to believe that so badly it hurt. He wasn’t sure he deserved a love like that from Jubilee, but he wanted it. He wanted to show her how much he loved her. He wanted to make things right; perhaps they could at least part as friends.
I need to see her, at least. One last time. I can’t leave things like this.
He felt better, just from making that promise to himself. He loved Jubilee with all of his broken, desperate heart. She’d been the missing piece on his life, a piece he hadn’t even known he’d needed. Her sweetness, her courage, her beauty. Everything about her had been like a balm to his soul, and he almost couldn’t blame himself for falling for her as hard as he had.
“Where are you right now, Jubi?” he whispered into the cold night. He imagined her curled up on her couch, reading, her hair dark and shining. She’d smile up at him when he came home, and she’d whisper his name right before he kissed her.
The sound of a car engine, and then tires screeching, caught Heath’s attention. He heard what sounded like a second car, and he got up from where he’d sat on the hood of his own car to see what was happening. He watched as one car tried to force another car—a red one with a missing hubcap on the back right tire—off the road.
He knew that red car. He’d know it anywhere: it was Jubilee’s.
The two cars rounded a bend right before the red car began fishtailing and spinning. Heath screamed, “Jubilee!” knowing it wouldn’t make a difference. The other car had driven off without stopping.
Heath dialed 911 as he drove back down the hill to where Jubilee’s car had tipped over and rolled down the embankment.
“Yes, Route 91. North side. Please come quickly.” He stuffed his phone into his pocket, parked his car and got the flashlight he always carried in his trunk. He then sprinted down the embankment after Jubilee, the beam of the flashlight bouncing off the ground as he ran.
He followed the trail of smashed bushes and trees, trying not to trip over his feet in his haste and go tumbling onto his face. The trees were smaller saplings that had snapped from the impact of the car, but they’d also slowed down the car’s momentum.
Along with the flashlight’s glare, the light from the full moon was enough to illuminate where the car had finally rolled to a stop. The car was upside-down, and when Heath finally got a good look at Jubilee, he was sure she was dead.
“Jubilee! Jubilee, it’s me, Heath. Can you hear me?” She was slumped in her seat, a cut on her forehead that dripped blood down her face.
She stirred at the sound of his yelling, but she didn’t awaken. He sobbed a breath of relief: she was alive.
He didn’t know when help would arrive. They were out in the middle of nowhere. What if Jubilee was bleeding from a serious injury? Flashing the flashlight across her, he didn’t see any more blood
beyond the cut on her forehead. But it was difficult to tell, with all the debris, not only from all the glass, but from the trees, grass, and dirt that had flown inside as the car had rolled down the hill.
Jubilee moaned, and her eyelids fluttered. “Heath?” she murmured. “Where…?”
“Don’t talk, baby. Help is on the way. I saw everything.”
He knew it was Rich who’d done this, and he vowed to find him and break his neck. Guilt also filled him, because he’d put Jubilee in danger. Rich must have figured out their connection. I’ll kill him slowly. He won’t live to see another day.
Jubilee kept moaning. “My head hurts.” She reached up and touched the blood on her forehead.
“Just stay still. Please.”
Their gazes locked, and Heath reached a hand inside the window where the glass had blown out to squeeze her hand. “I love you, Jubilee. No matter what happens. I want you to know that. I’m the biggest idiot in the entire world. I’ll never have enough time to make it all up to you, but if you let me—”
She squeezed his hand, rolling her head back and forth. “Stop. It doesn’t matter.” She took in a shuddering breath. “I love you, too. Nothing else matters.”
As Heath’s heart soared, he realized that there was smoke coming from the hood of Jubilee’s car. Panic threatened to overtake him. He couldn’t wait for help to arrive to get Jubilee out. He knew smoke meant they needed to get away from here as fast as possible.
Adrenaline made his movements ragged, but a sort of calm also settled over him. It was like watching someone else do this from far away, and Heath was watching, cheering himself on.
Jubilee fell unconscious again. Using the butt of the flashlight, he smashed in the window before reaching down to open the driver’s-side door. He breathed a sigh of relief when the door creaked open.
“Jubilee, listen to me,” he said as calmly as he could, shaking her. “I have to get you out of here. Can you hear me?”
She stirred. Smoke began to fill the car, and Heath knew they only had minutes. When he reached to unbuckle her seat belt, he realized that the locking mechanism had somehow gotten mangled, and he couldn’t get Jubilee free from it without some kind of tool to break it open. He swore colorfully.
