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Saving Jake

Page 7

by Sharon Sala


  “I need to go to the bathroom, Mommy.”

  Laurel quickly got out of the way and then helped unwind her from all the covers. She watched her make a dash for the bathroom across the hall and then looked down at the clothes she’d slept in and went to her bedroom to change.

  * * *

  It was close to noon when Laurel took the apricot pie from the oven. Bonnie was hovering nearby waiting for its exit because when it was done they were taking it to Jake. It was a thank-you pie, Mommy said, and she wanted to go see him.

  “Can we go now?” Bonnie asked.

  “Not until I make sure he’s home,” Laurel said, and sent a quick text. Are you home? We have something for you.

  The answer came quickly. Yes.

  Laurel sighed. Now she was committed. She thought about putting her hair up but wanted to get the delivery over with, so she pulled it back into a ponytail and grabbed their coats.

  “Let me see your chin first,” she said as she was buttoning up Bonnie’s coat.

  The bandage had come off in her sleep, but the stitches looked fine. Once Bonnie found out why she was making the pie, she’d gotten over her weepy spell, too.

  “It doesn’t hurt much, Mommy.”

  Laurel kissed her little girl’s cheek. “I am so glad,” she said, and then put the hot pie in a carrier and grabbed her purse. “I’m going to put the pie in the pickup first, and then I’ll come back and get you. The ground is so muddy, I don’t want you getting your feet wet, okay?”

  Bonnie nodded, then stood in the doorway holding Laurel’s purse as she took the pie to the truck. A few moments later, she was back for Bonnie. They locked the door, then Laurel swept her into her arms and carried her to the truck to begin the short journey up the road.

  Bonnie was full of chatter, and Laurel just let her talk and kept her gaze on the road. She was slowing down to take the turn into the driveway when another vehicle came over the hill. She waited with her turn signal on and glanced at the driver as he passed, but without recognition, then turned off the blacktop and headed for Jake’s house.

  Jake was standing at the window when he saw them coming, and then he saw the other car coming over the hill. He didn’t recognize the vehicle and was too far away to see the driver, and then let it go, focusing on the arrival of his company, unaware Truman Slade’s foray into his life had just begun.

  Jake walked onto the porch, then jogged down to the truck and opened the door for Laurel to get out. As soon as he helped her down from the truck, she leaned back inside to get the pie carrier while Bonnie walked across the seat and straight into Jake’s arms.

  “Good morning to the both of you,” Jake said. “Let’s get inside out of the cold.”

  He started to put Bonnie down and then felt her grip tighten on the back of his neck and looked into her eyes. The yearning for more was there, and then she pled her case.

  “So my shoes don’t get muddy, Mommy said.”

  “And a good idea it is,” he agreed, and carried her to the porch before he put her down, and then followed them into the house.

  “We brought a thank-you pie,” Bonnie said.

  “That’s great,” Jake said, but his gaze was locked on the length of Laurel’s hair and thinking what it would be like to wrap his hands in it when they made love. Then she turned too quick and caught him staring, and he blurted out anything but what he was thinking. “I just noticed the length of your hair. Been growing it long?” He stifled a groan and stuffed his hands in his pants, hoping that didn’t sound as stupid as he felt.

  “I’ve never worn it short,” she said.

  “Wow,” Jake said, nodding and smiling. “That’s amazing. Well now, let me take a look at that thank-you pie. It’s my favorite kind,” he said, and winked at Bonnie as he moved toward the counter.

  “It’s apricot,” Laurel said.

  “Mmmmm, the perfect dessert to go with lunch. I made chili and was going to make some cornbread to go with it, but I can’t find Mom’s recipes. Dad used them from time to time, and I don’t know what he did with them.”

  Laurel hesitated and then took off her coat and draped it on the back of a kitchen stool. “I can show you,” she said.

  “Only if you guys will stay and have lunch with me,” Jake added.

  “Yay!” Bonnie cried. “I love chili and cornbread.”

  Laurel sighed. She was outnumbered and arguing would be rude. “So I see the bowl. Where’s the cornmeal?”

  Within minutes they had cornbread in the oven, and Bonnie was sitting on Jake’s knee showing him the stitches in her chin. Then he took her hand and lifted it to his head.

  “Put your fingers right here,” he said. “Now what do you feel?”

  He could feel her little fingers tracing the ridges of scars and knew when her eyebrows knitted that she was confused.

  “What are those?” she asked.

  “They’re scars. I had stitches too once, but they’re gone, and my head is all healed.”

  “Can I see?” she asked.

  “Bonnie, really—” Laurel began.

  “No, it’s all right. I introduced the subject,” Jake said, and then lowered his head.

  Laurel’s heart began to pound as she watched her daughter part his hair and trace the scars. There were so many she was surprised she hadn’t noticed them before, but then realized his hair was long enough to hide most of them. She imagined him wounded and bloody—like Adam had been bloody, except Adam had wanted to die and Jake had obviously fought hard to live. She frowned and looked away, uncertain how she felt.

  And then the timer went off.

  “Cornbread’s done!” Jake said, and lifted Bonnie off his knee and went to the stove.

  “What can I do?” Laurel asked.

  “Butter’s in the refrigerator. Would you put it on the table, please?”

  Happy to have something to do, she did as he asked, and then found the drawer with cutlery and got place settings for three. Within minutes they were all seated at the table with a bowl of chili and a piece of cornbread on each of their plates.

  “The chili might be a little bit hot, so test it before you take a big bite. And I don’t mean hot with spices, hot from the fire. I know it’s not a manly thing to admit, but I’m not a fan of spicy food.”

  And with that admission, the meal progressed.

  Laurel found herself comparing Jake to Adam and Adam to Jake while they ate. It took her quite a while to admit they were nothing alike, and she should have nothing to fear. But that was easier said than done. She didn’t mind being neighborly, and she guessed it was okay for Bonnie to visit now and then, but that’s where it ended. She didn’t want the responsibility of loving anyone ever again.

  Jake could tell Laurel was weighing the pros and cons of being a friend. He understood her reluctance. He felt the same way. What he’d imagined his life would be like and what he was now capable of doing were two different things.

  When Bonnie stopped chattering to take another bite, he ventured a quick question. “So, you clean houses for extra money?”

  Laurel frowned. “Not extra money. For a living. Life insurance isn’t worth a plug nickel when you take yourself out.”

  Jake refused to let her go down that angry road again. “I would guess that being self-employed works for you since you want to be home by the time Bonnie gets out of school?”

  Laurel looked a little taken aback and then nodded. “Yes, it actually is a plus. I make my extra money selling craft items online, mostly crocheted things, when I have the time to make them, that is. It’s been a while since I started anything new.”

  “Good for you,” Jake said. “I’m going to have to come to terms with a job as well, but thought I’d get settled in a little better before I start.”

  “Do you know what you want to do?” Laurel asked.


  “I used to think about law enforcement. Not sure that’s the thing for me now since I’m a little gun-shy. I guess it’s all still up in the air.”

  He got up to refill their coffee cups and then added another ice cube to Bonnie’s glass of water. She smiled when it clinked against the side of the glass and then had to take a quick sip.

  “Whoa Nellie, that’s good and cold, just like I like it,” she said.

  Jake blinked, and when he laughed out loud, Laurel shivered. He was a very compelling man.

  “That’s straight out of my father’s mouth,” Jake said.

  Laurel grinned.

  Bonnie giggled, happy that everyone else was happy, too. “I’m ready for thank-you pie,” she said.

  Jake grinned. “So am I. Want ice cream on yours?”

  Unsure of the rules of eating in a strange home, Bonnie looked at her mother. “Mommy, do I want ice cream on my pie?”

  Laurel laughed. “Probably.”

  “I’ll put a little bit on it, just in case,” Jake said.

  Laurel cleared the table of their dirty bowls and plates while Jake cut the pie. She wouldn’t let herself think of how comfortable it was to share a meal with him. It was a meal and nothing more. And so they ate and laughed some more, and when the dishes were done, they went home.

  Jake stood in the doorway and waved until they were gone and then shut the door and tried not to think of how quiet and empty the house seemed without them in it.

  * * *

  Truman Slade had been watching Jake’s house from the row of trees above the creek, and when he saw the Payne woman leaving, he took off running, trying to get back to his truck before that woman and her kid got home. He’d parked on the other side of the creek, behind their house, and snuck up to where Jake Lorde lived to get the lay of the land, so to speak. If he was going to make life miserable for Lorde, he needed to find his weak spot, and it would appear that was the woman and the girl.

  The ground was soft from the recent rain, so he’d been forced to walk in the creek to keep from leaving footprints. Running back, not only his feet were wet, but his pants were pretty much soaked from all the splashing. His side was hurting, his breath coming in short, painful gasps. He was so out of shape it was pitiful.

  Finally, he saw the fork in the creek that would take him to where he’d parked and lengthened his stride. Even as he left the creek and began climbing up the creek bank, he could hear Laurel Payne’s truck coming to a stop at the trailer. He grabbed for a tree root to steady himself, and the root came away in his hands. He fell all the way down the bank and into the water, making an even bigger splash.

  Cursing beneath his breath, he climbed back out and made a run at the bank, attacking it with both momentum and an increasing panic. He didn’t want to be caught on the premises before he even got started.

  He slipped and cursed again, then began grabbing at bushes, roots, and saplings, anything he could hold to pull himself up, until finally, he was out of the creek and on the other side. He quickly disappeared within the trees and breathed a sigh of relief only after he was back on the blacktop and taking the long way home.

  He reached down to turn on the heater and then remembered it didn’t work. So he cursed again at the futility that was his life and drove faster, anxious to get out of the wet clothes and be warm again.

  Chapter 6

  Jake woke up the next morning thinking of Laurel and Bonnie. He wondered if she was going to school and if she was still suffering much pain, and on impulse, sent Laurel a quick text. How is your patient today? Is she still hurting?

  The text back was quick and brief and did not impart the surprise Laurel had when she’d seen his pop up. She’s better. I think afraid to go back to school because that’s where she got hurt, but she’ll be fine once she’s there. Thanks so much for asking about her. Gotta go. Bus is coming.

  And sure enough, within five minutes, the big yellow bus drove past his house, so he started his day, but Bonnie Payne’s fear and sadness stayed with him.

  That night as he was going through email, a couple more from the old unit emailed him the same news about DeSosa, which aggravated the emotional wound again. One mentioned DeSosa was not only getting a Purple Heart posthumously, but also a medal for valor for when he’d saved the lives of Jake and two others that day.

  Jake shoved the chair back and strode angrily to his room, dug his duffel bag out of the closet, and then unzipped an inner pocket and pulled out a flat box. His hands were shaking. He felt like throwing up as he opened the box with his Purple Heart and then angrily tossed it on the bed. “I don’t need a damn medal for staying alive. DeSosa earned his and this one, too,” he muttered, and then tossed the bag back in the closet and walked out of the room, leaving the medal on the bed.

  He worked outside all day, doing more repairs, and also hauled up another couple of deadfalls to saw up for firewood later, unaware Truman Slade watched everything he was doing.

  That evening he was replacing a portion of the floor in one of the granaries when he heard Bonnie calling his name. “I’m in here!” he yelled, and then jumped out of the grain bin as she came running inside carrying a small sack.

  In usual Bonnie fashion, she began talking the moment she saw him. “Mommy said I could bring this to you, but she said I have to come right back home. I can spell ‘cherry’ because it’s my favorite pie, and Lavonne laid a green egg today.”

  Jake stifled a grin as he sat down on the granary step, and when she arrived, she promptly crawled up in his lap and handed him the sack. “Before I look in the sack, I want to hear you spell ‘cherry.’”

  Her eyes widened, excited that she was going to perform, and rattled it off.

  “That’s great. You are a good student. Your mommy must be very proud of you.”

  Bonnie nodded, making her windblown curls bounce. “Look in the sack,” she said. “You’ll love it. It’s my favorite candy ever.”

  He peeked in and saw a handful of faintly grubby gummy bears. He’d purposefully eaten dirt when he was a kid just to see what it tasted like, and he’d swallowed a goodly portion of a desert on the other side of the world, so a little more dirt on candy would not hurt him.

  “Since they are your favorite, I want you to pick one out for me.”

  “Okay,” she said, and dug through the candy, then pulled out a green one. “This one is sour apple. It’s not my favorite, but I think it will be yours.”

  He opened his mouth, and she put it on his tongue. He made a big face because it was sour just to hear her giggle, then chewed it up. “Ummm, you were right. This is going to be my favorite flavor of gummy bear ever. Now you eat one.”

  “No. These are for you. I have some in my pocket for me,” she said, and pulled one slightly fuzzy gummy bear out of her pocket. “Just a little bit of tissue on it,” she said, and licked off the fuzz, then popped it in her mouth.

  Jake laughed out loud and gave her a quick hug. “How’s the chin?” he asked.

  She tilted her head back so he could see.

  “Everything okay? Doesn’t hurt too much anymore?”

  “No, it doesn’t hurt, but I have bad dreams.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  She shrugged.

  “Is everything okay? Is someone bothering you at school? Is your mommy okay?”

  She nodded.

  “What is it that makes your dreams bad?” he asked.

  She cupped her hand against his ear and then whispered, afraid to say it too loud. “I can’t remember what Daddy looked like anymore, and I think he’s mad at me. I hide in my dreams because I don’t want him to know.”

  What she said broke his heart. “Oh, honey, your daddy will never be mad at you. He can’t be. It’s a rule that he won’t ever be mad, okay?”

  “A rule? Really?”

  “Really, now thank
you for the candy, and you better head home before it starts getting dark.”

  “Okay,” she said, and slid out of his lap.

  He walked her to the end of the doorway, watching until she disappeared into the trees, then reached into his hip pocket for his phone and called Laurel.

  When she answered, she sounded breathless, and he closed his eyes against the fantasies that evoked. “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s me, Jake. Just wanted you to know Bonnie is on her way home. Thank you for letting her bring me the candy.”

  Laurel breathed an easy sigh. When she’d seen who was calling, she’d thought something had happened to Bonnie.

  “You’re welcome. I hope she’s not a bother, but when she gets a notion, she can be very insistent.”

  “She’s not a bother at all.” He hesitated, then knew he couldn’t keep this to himself. “Hey, I feel like I need to tell you something she said, but I don’t want you to think I’m intruding.”

  Laurel’s pulse kicked. “What did she say?”

  “I was asking her if her chin still bothered her, and she said no, and then pretty much out of the blue she said she was having bad dreams. Do you know about this?”

  “No,” Laurel said, and sat down in the nearest chair before her knees went out from under her. “Did she say why?”

  “She can’t remember what her daddy looks like anymore, and she’s afraid he’s mad at her. She says she hides from him in her dreams so he won’t find her.”

  “Oh my God,” Laurel whispered, and then choked back a sob. “No, I didn’t know this.”

  Jake sighed. “I know about being scared to go to sleep. I just couldn’t let this slide without telling you. I also need to tell you that I said it was a rule that daddies could never be mad at their children. Just so you know when she pops up with that statement and you wonder where it came from.”

  Laurel couldn’t see the floor for the tears in her eyes. “Thank you for that, and for the call, and for…for…for being you.”

  He heard her disconnect, put the phone back in his pocket, swallowed past the lump in his throat, and stared across the pasture for a while, thinking about a little girl and another dead soldier. All of a sudden, he knew what he was going to do with that Purple Heart.

 

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