by Cathryn Fox
“Then where is she, Judy?” I bluntly ask, my voice far colder than it was moments ago. “Where is her mother on Christmas morning?”
“I…don’t know.”
“Two things,” I say, a new desperation racing through me. “Look closely at your own daughter before you decide what kind of people you want in Cassie’s life, and two, I want every piece of information that investigator has on Rachel.”
19
Rachel
From my grandmother’s old homestead in upstate Pennsylvania, I glance out the back window and watch the snow blanket the yard. It’s a gorgeous Christmas afternoon, the kind I remember from when I was very young, yet there is no happiness, no sense of excitement for me today. In fact, my heart aches with the opposite of happiness. I hug myself against the cool winter draft coming in through the old windowpane and exhale a heavy sign.
Grandma is having her afternoon tea and scones in the kitchen, but I haven’t been able to eat much since running away from my sorority a couple weeks ago—from Jaxon and Cassie. I have a million texts on my phone, but they’ve been coming in less and less. I guess Jaxon has finally realized I wasn’t going to answer and had given up.
A hiccupping sob catching in my throat.
“Something wrong?” Grandma asks from the other room, and I swallow down the pain, and try to inject a lightness in my voice that I don’t feel.
“Everything is fine, Grandma,” I fib, sure nothing will ever be fine again. But I’ve been pretty much fibbing since I arrived, not that Grandma can’t see right through me. She might be old, but she’s astute, and has lived long enough to know when someone is suffering.
Still though, I’m not about to lay my sob story on an elderly woman I’ve never really been close to. There is nothing she can do about my predicament, anyway. Predicament? Is that what I’m calling it now?
I think everything through, from the second I exchanged words with Jaxon, until I found that box left outside my bedroom door—a box with a few of my old belongings—Dylan’s way of sending a message that he knows where I am and can get to me at any time. It took all of three seconds to realize the danger, and ten more minutes for me to gather a few things, jump in my car and find temporary shelter and refuge at my grandmother’s place. No one, not even Jaxon knows about the old homestead.
My heart pounds at that, a new kind of fear creeping its way along my veins as I peer outside, look for signs of the man who had that box delivered to my house. My God, if he ever found out I was with Jaxon, if he ever used Cassie as a threat, I just…Jesus, I can’t let my thoughts go to such a dark and scary place. But if something did happen, and Jaxon ever got his hands on Dylan, he’d tear him into two pieces. He’d end up in prison and would undoubtedly lose his daughter for good. No way could I hang around and let any of those scenarios play out. Leaving was my only choice, otherwise…
Another sound crawls out of my throat, and I step away from the window. I shake my head to clear it and pad through the old house. That old fake tree from my childhood sits propped up in the corner, the blinking lights no longer working. Not much has changed since I used to visit here with my folks. Grandma might have mellowed a bit when talking about my mother, become a bit less judgmental of her. But now that she’s gone, it’s too little too late. She even seems a little sympathetic toward me, and the fact that I fled home at eighteen because of my father. Speaking of my father, my grandmother hasn’t heard from him in years, and I kind of think that’s a little sad, considering she was the only one who stood by his side, justified his disgusting behavior.
Parents see things the way they want to see them, I guess. Look at Sarah’s folks. They clearly want Sarah back, and back in her daughter’s life, despite all the pain she brought everyone. But how dare they blame Jaxon for her leaving in the first place? He’s a good man, the best man I know.
Stop thinking about him, Rachel.
Truthfully, I have no idea where I go from here. At least I have the Christmas break to figure it out. Right now, though, I’m thinking I’ll move into a new place near Penn State to finish my degree, but make sure it’s far enough from Jaxon that I never have to set eyes on him again—bring any kind of danger into his life. I have to take Dylan’s threat seriously, and from here on out, I’ll keep my head down, and stay off anyone’s radar.
“You were on mine the second you moved in next door.”
As Jaxon’s words ping through my brain, I clench down on my jaw hard enough to cause the muscle to throb. Maybe I need to try some type of pain therapy to forget him. Maybe I’ll look into purchasing a Taser and use it on myself. I give a humorless laugh as I step into the kitchen. With the oven on and a pot boiling on the stovetop, it’s much warmer than the other areas of the house. Yellowing daisy wallpaper covering the walls, and peeling around the edges brings back thoughts of my mother. She loved daisies. I sniff, but when I catch the worry in grandma’s eyes, I turn from her.
Christmas should be filled with joy, laugher and loved ones, and I don’t want to bring Grandma down into my pit of despair. She hands me a glass of tea, even though I hadn’t asked for one. In the two weeks I’ve been here, I’ve lost all the weight I put on thanks to Jaxon making my lunches and sharing our meals.
“The turkey is in the oven,” Grandma says with a smile on her face that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Mabel and Gracie are bringing the fixings. We’ll all have a big Christmas meal,” she says and pats my hands slightly. “It will be fun.”
I force a smile, take in the lines around her eyes, the tight gray curls pinching her scalp. There is a sadness about her, too. She can try to hide it from me, but underneath the façade, Grandma has regrets. Of that I’m certain.
“Thanks for letting me share the holidays with you,” I say.
“You’re always welcome here, Rachel.”
I take a sip of tea and glance around the kitchen. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“If you want to get some wood from the shed that would help,” she says. I nod and set my tea down. There’s plenty of wood in the rack by the fireplace, but I get that she’s just trying to give me chores to take my mind off things, even though she has no idea what those things are.
I walk to the front door, pull on my boots and coat, and grab my dollar store mittens and hat from the bench. But as soon as I close my fingers around them, my thoughts go to Jaxon and Cassie and the mitts they knitted for my birthday. Tears well up in my eyes. I still can’t believe they did that. No one has ever done anything so thoughtful or touching. Those mitts mean the world to me and I wish I had grabbed them before I fled. Just a little something tangible to hold on to, a little memory to pack away and take out when my heart isn’t quite so broken, although I’m not sure that time will ever come. Jaxon is the sweetest man I’ve ever met, and his daughter has my heart. To think he went through such an effort for me. My chest nearly burst with the love I feel for him.
I tug the hat on and hold my mitts in one had as I open the door with the other. But when I come face to face with a very familiar man, his hand raised to knock, the mittens slip from my fingers and I falter backward.
No!
No. No. No. This can’t be happening.
“What? How?” I begin, fear crawling up from the depths of my stomach. I glance past his shoulders, see the running vehicle in the driveway. This can’t be happening. I blink, open my eyes again, but he’s still there. The room spins around me, and breathing becomes a little more difficult.
How did he find me?
“What…what are you doing here?” I ask around a tongue gone thick.
“Rachel…” As my legs go out from underneath me, the most warm, caring hands I ever had the pleasure of touching me capture me before I fall.
“Jaxon,” I say, his name catching in my throat.
He holds my trembling body to his, and through our winter coats, his heart pounds hard against my chest. Unable to help myself, I breathe him in, and hold his scent in my lungs never wanting to forget it.
Strong hands grip me tighter, and as big fingers fist my hair and his aroma plumes through my blood, I cry. I cry hard. I cry for my mother, my father, for Jaxon and Cassie. I cry for love and loss…years of pain.
“Hey,” he whispers, and holds me tight until I finally stop trembling.
“Jaxon, you…you can’t be here,” I whisper, and pound against his chest. “You have to go.”
He inches back, and I nearly sob again when I catch the pain, the fearful confusion, bracketing his blue eyes. I hurt him. Deeply. But what choice did I have? It was the only way I could protect him and his daughter.
“I’ll go, Rachel. But you’re coming with me,” he says, and I glance at his running car again, catch sight of Cassie in the back seat. Her worried blue eyes, big and afraid, much like her father’s, latch onto mine.
My knees let go, and I break from the circle of Jaxon’s arms. Leaning forward, I place my hand on my stomach, to fight back the nausea. I added to that little’s girl’s loss, her pain. I hate myself for that, especially since all I ever wanted to do was love her. I breathe through the hurt, the bile punching into my throat.
“Rachel—” Jaxon begins.
“No,” I blurt out, hating myself, hating this entire situation, I step farther away from Jaxon. Being with me is unsafe. I have to make him understand that.
“Is everything okay, dear?” Grandmas asks from the kitchen doorway.
“Everything is fine, Grandma.”
She hesitates for a moment. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
I swallow painfully. “How…”
“Judy and Karl had a private investigator look into your past,” he announces, coming right to the point.
My vision clouds as a million questions race through my mind. I stumble again, and back up until my knees hit the sofa. The wind whips through the house, but Jaxon doesn’t close the front door, not with his daughter still inside a running car.
“Why…why would they do that?”
Jaxon glances over his shoulder to check on his daughter, then takes a measured step toward me. Instead of answering, he says, “At first, I thought you left because of Sarah. I saw the rings on her finger and can only assume she flashed them at you, too. I once told you she has a knack for making people believe what they want.”
“She did flash them,” I say, my voice as shaky as my body. I need him to go but I can’t let him think I never believed he was one of the good guys. “At first I thought you were still married, Jaxon. When we were…well you know. I didn’t give it much thought. I guess we were busy doing other things.” I brush my hair from my face, and grab a tissue from the box on the coffee table. I dab my eyes and then pluck at the ends. “Then she flashed her rings, made it clear I needed to go. I wasn’t going to at first, but those diamonds jump-started my brain and I couldn’t figure out how you could have gotten a divorce when you said she left suddenly and never looked back. I hated myself for being…” I stop to do air quotes around the words, “‘the other woman.’” I was no better than those women…”
He fists his hair and tugs. “Your father, I know.”
I look down at the torn tissue, and keep ripping at it. “I couldn’t stand the idea of Cassie hating me the way I hated all those women, but the more I thought about it, the more I reasoned it out. You’d never purposely hurt me or use me, Jaxon. You’re a kind man with integrity. More integrity in that baby finger than any other man I know. So, I realized that even though you might not have had the papers to prove you two were over, the marriage was over in your head and in your heart.”
“It’s also over on paper.”
My head jerks back up. “It is?”
“I had an investigator find her and serve her papers. She didn’t show up to court and the judge awarded the divorce based on the facts shown on my petition. Sarah still wore the rings. I guess she never thought I’d go through with it.”
“Where is she now?” I ask, not sure if I want to really know.
He shrugs, and shakes his head, disgust written all over his face. “Who knows. Gone again, I guess.”
Oh, his poor daughter. “Cassie…” I croak out.
“She never got to meet her. I told her she had to prove she was clean and had her act together before I let her into Cassie’s life.”
“I’m so sorry, Jaxon. I know how much you wanted Cassie to have a mother.”
“Not a mother that we we’re not enough for, Rach,” he says, his voice lower, softer.
“Of course not.”
“Once I realized you knew better than to think I was still married and going to fall back into a life with Sarah, I couldn’t help but think you left because we weren’t enough either.” He shrugs again. “Past experiences and all.”
“I understand, Jaxon. We all have our demons but it’s not like that,” I say quickly. I can’t let him think that. Any woman in her right mind would be crazy to leave him and his daughter. I only left to protect them, because my ex wasn’t in his right mind.
“I know.”
I let out a breath, relieved at that.
He takes one more step toward me, captures my hand in his and lifts until I’m standing on wobbly legs. But I don’t have to worry about falling. He secures one arm around my waist, and places a comforting hand on my cheek.
“I was lost and confused for weeks, Rachel, and had no idea where you were, or why you left until Judy and Karl showed up at my door. That’s when everything fell into place for me.”
“You know, then,” I blurt out. “You know Dylan found me.”
“He never found you, and for his sake, he’d better not ever try.” His nostrils flare, the blue of his eyes sharpening. “As a matter of fact, maybe Jericho and the rest of the guys will go with me and pay him a visit. Give him a chance to pick on someone his own size.”
My pulse leaps, and blood rushes to my brain. “No, Jaxon. That’s one of the reasons why I left. I can’t let you go down that road. Getting into trouble, fighting…” I pound on his chest again. “You’re not safe when you’re with me. If Dylan ever threatened you…Cassie. Oh, God,” I cry out. “You have to think about what’s best for Cassie.”
“I am, that’s why I said I wasn’t leaving here without you. Dylan doesn’t know where you are. You left to protect us, not because you thought I was or that we weren’t enough, and I love you for that, Rachel, I really do.”
“You…love me for that.”
“Let me say this again. I love you, Rachel. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about the night you ran away on us. I love you and want you in our lives. I want you in Cassie’s life. I’m careful who I bring in to Cassie’s life. At first I was worried about bringing you in,. I knew you were on the run, Rach, but you never have to run again. You’re the only person good enough for my daughter, and rest assured no one is ever going to hurt you again.”
“Jaxon, it’s…I’m afraid. Dylan…”
“He doesn’t know where you are, and besides, once you move in with us and change your last name, his chances drop from slim to none.”
I angle my head, sort through is words. “Why would I change my last name?”
“I’d really like you to take on mine when we get married, but I get it women don’t always do that today, so if you don’t want to—”
What?
Married?
“What are you saying?” I ask, my heart racing like a hamster on a wheel.
He drops to one knee, and my breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh.
“Will you marry me, Rachel. Will you be my wife, Cassie’s mother?”
Tears fall again, harder this time, soaking the front of my coat. I sink to my knees with him and he brushes my hair back. “I love you, Rachel. And there is a little girl in that car that loves you, too. Say yes, and I’ll go get her.”
I pause as tears run down my eyes. My heart is pounding so hard in my ears, I’m not sure I’m hearing things right.
“Rach?”
“Say yes, child,”
Grandma says from the kitchen.
A big hiccupping laugh—or cry, I can’t be sure—climbs out of my throat. “Yes, Jaxon. Yes, a million times over.”
Worry leaves his eyes and he displays those sexy dimples as he smiles at me and presses his lips to mine. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
He stands, and pulls me up with him. He guides me to the sofa and I sit. “Don’t move.” He gives me a warning glare.
“I won’t,” I say through a garbled chuckle.
Jaxon dashes out the door, and comes back in with Cassie. She’s carrying a picnic basket in one hand, a doll in the other.
“Rachel,” she squeals, dropping both and running toward me. I give her a big hug, and she starts talking about a kite, and a picnic, and my birthday.
“Slow down, kiddo,” I say, and Jaxon drops grabs the picnic basket, and drops his knees in front of us. “What’s going on?” I ask.
He takes one of my hand in his. “Do you remember what you told me you wanted for your birthday?”
“Yes, another day with my mother.”
“We couldn’t make that happen, but we wanted to try our best. We had plans to get our Christmas tree on your birthday, then take you to the park, fly a kite, have a picnic. All the things you did with your mother. But you left before we could do any of that.”
“Ohmigod, Jaxon,” I say and place my free hand over my face as my heart fills will all the love I have for him and his daughter.
“The food didn’t make it, but there are a few things in that basket that we still want to give you.”
“Now, Daddy?” Cassie asks.
“Now, kiddo,” he says.
I swipe my tears away and Cassie reaches into the basket. I laugh when she pulls out those gummy green leaves I like.
“You remembered,” I say, barely able to speak.
“I remembered,” he says softly as he places his hand on my cheek.
Cassie reaches in and what she pulls out next has the tears falling again. “Jaxon,” I blubber as I take the picture from Cassie. “How?”
