Jackson flipped her onto her back and covered her with his body. “I’ll just have to make sure you don’t forget,” he said and then proceeded to make her forget everything but him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The phone rang. Jackson rolled over and picked it up, forgetting he was at Nan’s place.
“Turn off the alarm.” Nan moaned and buried herself under the blanket. “I don’t have to work today.”
She’d been completely exhausted after they’d made love a second time and he’d felt slightly guilty for being the cause, but not sorry. Bleary eyed, he blinked at the red numbers staring at him from the digital clock across the room. Two? Who in the hell was calling her at this time at night?
Trying not to wake her, he whispered, “Hello.”
“Who’s this?” a gruff, tense voice demanded.
“Who’s this?” Jackson countered, irritated.
“Jackson?”
“Jesse? What’s wrong?” Jackson recognized his brother’s voice.
“I must have dialed the wrong number. I’ve been trying to reach you, too. Alexi woke up with a really bad headache and I brought her to the Emergency Room. Call Nan and bring her to the hospital. They won’t let me see Alexi yet.”
“Jesse, we’ll be there in ten minutes. I’m at Nan’s.”
Jackson hung up before hearing Jesse’s replay. He turned over to Nan. “Nan, honey. Wake up.” She opened her eyes, but just barely. “Jesse’s taken Alexi to the Emergency Room. He needs us to come.”
Nan sprung up from the bed. “What’s wrong? The baby?”
“He said she had a bad headache. I don’t know what that means yet. Let’s not read anything into the situation until we get there, okay?”
He saw the worry in her eyes, saw her take a bolstering breath, and couldn’t stop himself from walking across the room and pulling her into his arms. Not only was he worried about Alexi, he was worried about Nan, too. How had he thought he could share this woman’s bed and not get involved in her life? He wanted her to write that story. He wanted to see her smile and laugh. He didn’t want her to feel pain. He was even starting to find her damn cat amusing. It would be a long time before he’d forget Shakespeare’s ass-end flip in the air. Somehow she’d staked a claim inside of him even though he hadn’t believed there was an “inside” to him left. The hug lasted but a brief moment before they broke apart and quickly dressed.
They arrived at the hospital seven minutes later. As they walked in an ambulance came barreling up to the emergency entrance. The EMT in the driver’s seat popped out and rushed to the rear. Jackson knew from the man’s intensity that they had a serious trauma on board. When the man opened the back doors of the ambulance, Jackson heard a woman crying for help and a cold sweat broke out over Jackson’s body.
Two nurses ran to help. The EMT in the back with the woman jumped out and started talking to the nurses as they unloaded the patient. Car accident was the one word Jackson discerned. He froze, fighting the memories exploding inside him as he stared at the blood upon the stark white sheets. He remembered the blood. So much blood had covered his hands.
“Jack?”
Nan pulled on his arm and Jackson forced his feet to move, but he could barely see where. They entered the emergency room waiting area and Jackson saw Jesse. His bother paced with military precision, his steps snapping upon the polished tile floor.
Jesse looked up. Seeing the fear in his brother’s eyes stabbed Jackson right in the gut. He recognized his brother’s fear, knew intimately the demons that ripped through a man’s soul at a time like this. It was too much, the woman’s cry, the blood, the fear. Jackson’s stomach wrenched with pain.
He didn’t hear what Jesse said. All he could hear was Amy screaming, the horrifying screech of metal, and the shattering of glass. Jackson clenched his fists, fighting against the overwhelming need to escape.
Nan grabbed his hand and he remembered she was there. The reality of his life came crashing back down on his shoulders. Had he actually thought he could get past the blood on his hands? Had he really thought he could find solace from his private hell in a woman’s embrace?
He turned, fighting to focus on Nan. Tried to hear her words through Amy’s screaming in his brain. Nan was speaking to Jesse. Then Jesse spoke and from a great distance he heard bits of words and sentences. “…stabilize…emergency C-section…”
Then, their voices were drowned out by the past. “Oh God, my baby, my baby! Jackson, save our baby! Hellpp Mmee!”
He jerked his hand from Nan’s and grabbed his head. Pain tore through him.
“I couldn’t! I tried!” He screamed back. He didn’t realize he’d yelled aloud until he saw the shock on their faces. He had to get away. “I can’t do this. Just forget I exist.” He turned and ran out into the night.
Nan watched Jackson leave. A heavy, sinking feeling worked its way down her gut, and a chilling numbness began at her toes, spreading throughout her body. Shock. Medically, she knew it, but never thought she’d be able to diagnose it in herself. She had sense enough to quickly sit down before she fell down.
The harrowing pain and guilt in Jackson’s eyes matched the anguish she’d seen destroy her father. In fact, for a moment when Jackson had said to forget he existed, she’d thought her father had come back to life.
God, what had happened to Jackson? She sucked in air, forcing her lungs to work. She had to focus on Alexi right now. Jackson would have to wait. Jesse still stood, frozen in the same position he’d stood when they’d heard Jackson scream. Nan reached out and tugged on his hand. “Alexi. We have to think about her. Tell me again. What did the doctor say?”
Jesse turned back. His blue eyes were so like Jackson’s Nan almost cried. Why had Jackson left? Why had he deserted them in the middle of a crisis? Jesse had tears in his eyes, and Nan could see he was as anguished as Jackson had been. But Jesse wasn’t running out. He stood solid amidst the turmoil.
“I haven’t seen the doctor yet, he’s still with Alexi. The nurse just came out and said Alexi has developed preeclampsia. As soon as they get her blood pressure down and feel she is stable, they plan to do a C-Section.”
“You’re sure they said preeclampsia and not eclampsia?”
“Yes.”
Nan exhaled with relief. Had Alexi gone into full eclampsia, she could have had convulsions, and would have been so unstable that a c-section wouldn’t have been possible. A coma or death could have happened then. “I know you don’t realize this, but this is good news. They’ve caught her condition early. With the advances medicine has made, she’s probably going to be okay.”
“Just exactly what in the hell is this condition and why didn’t her doctor stop it from happening?”
“They don’t know for sure what causes eclampsia. Symptoms are an increase in blood pressure, headaches, abnormal swelling in the legs and feet. Generally, what happens is that being pregnant becomes toxic to the mother. As for prevention, there isn’t a lot a doctor can do until the patient starts showing symptoms. Alexi’s condition has been borderline. Her blood pressure has been a little higher than normal for her, but not high enough to consider it dangerous. She’s had some swelling, but not an excessive amount. Promptly getting her to the hospital was about the best thing you could have done.”
Jesse shuddered. “Jackson was so right. He must have suspected something.”
Nan bit her lip, trying to stave off the tears lurking just beneath the surface. Had it just been few hours ago she and Jackson had been in bed laughing and loving? “What, what was he right about?”
“Not leaving Alexi’s side. He told me that if I tried to take another business trip before the baby was born, he would beat me to a pulp. Told me that nothing on this God’s earth could be more important than being there for her right now. He said I could lose it all in the blink of an eye, just like he lost Amy. That’s probably why he had to leave. Sometimes the memories are more than he can bear.”
Nan leaned back in
the hard plastic chair and swallowed the lumps in her throat. “He must have really loved her to still grieve for her so deeply.”
“I think that’s part of it. I also think that maybe we’ve respected his wish to be left alone too long. I need to call my folks and the twins to let them know what’s going on.”
“Okay. I’m going to shamelessly use my connections to find out more and get you in to see her ASAP.”
“I went crazy when we first arrived. I couldn’t get them to tell me anything. Thanks for being here.”
“Don’t ever hesitate to call me. I’ll never let you, Alexi or the baby down.” She reached out and squeezed Jesse’s hand.
He squeezed back. “Thanks. I don’t want to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but give Jackson some time.”
Nan sighed. “Sometimes all the time in world isn’t enough. I’ve learned a person either has what it takes to move past a tragedy or they don’t.”
* * *
Eight hours later, Nan stumbled from the hospital the proud godparent of a six and a half pound, nineteen inch baby boy named Jake Everett Weldon. Alexi and the baby were going to be just fine. Nan shook her head in wonder, still hearing Jake wail up a storm when he was hungry. Alexi couldn’t unbutton her gown fast enough for him.
Nan went to step from the curb then stopped. A tow truck pulled out of the emergency parking area with Jackson’s pickup tethered to it. Was Jackson here?
She hailed the driver and he stuck his head out the window.
“This truck yours?”
“No, but I know the owner.”
“Not my problem, lady. This truck has been parked in a fifteen minute parking zone since last night. The hospital says to tow ‘em, I tow ‘em.” He started to leave.
“Wait. Where can my friend pick it up?”
“Tell him to call Ralph Butz Wrecker Service. That’s B-U-T-Z. And tell him I don’t take checks, ya hear?”
Nan nodded her reply. The man hit the gas and whizzed by her. If Jackson’s truck had been parked all night at the hospital then where was Jackson? It also dawned on her that she needed to go back inside and call for a taxi.
“Nan, is that you?”
Nan turned to see Brad, perfectly groomed in an Armani suit. He stood half in and half out of his Mercedes. She hadn’t noticed, but he’d driven up behind the tow truck.
“Hi,” she said, feeling like a wreck.
“Hi. I left a message for you yesterday. You didn’t call me back.”
Nan frowned. “I didn’t get it. What did you say?”
“My flight Sunday was delayed. I got your message about having to work Friday night and called the nursing supervisor. She was more than glad to change your schedule.”
“Oh.” She had to talk to Brad. It irked her that he’d taken the liberty to call and have her schedule changed without consulting her. But since he said he was going to talk to the nursing supervisor at the hospital party, and she didn’t tell him not to do it, she really couldn’t blame him.
“You look awful. Is something wrong?”
“Alexi had to have an emergency C-section. She became preeclamptic.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Everything all right now?”
“Yes.”
“Listen, you look too tired to drive. Why don’t I run you home?” He glanced at his watch. “I have forty minutes before I have to start rounds.”
Nan blinked. Brad didn’t seem as self absorbed as he had last week. He came around and opened the passenger door for her and tucked the seatbelt around her. She was too tired to insist on a cab, and wanted to get home fast, but she felt a bit awkward. She’d spent the last few days loving Jackson just about every physical way possible and until she made it clear to Brad that she…what?
Her head started to pound. It was all too complicated to sort out in the short time she and Brad had this morning. He started the car and drove out from the Hospital complex. They passed by the construction site and Nan looked for Jackson amongst the workers milling about the site. She didn’t see him.
She studied Brad’s serious profile from beneath lowered lashes. He was a model of efficient neatness—not a hair out of place, not a piece of lint on his dark navy suit, and on the seat between them she saw a leather bound pocket notebook with a neatly written to-do list dated today. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that in a middle of a crisis he’d be right there handling the problem.
She wondered why Brad couldn’t have been the focus of her fantasies? Why couldn’t he have been the man who stirred her passions? She had to tell him she wasn’t going to be able to date him anymore. She had to tell him that even though he’d arranged for her to be off this weekend, she wasn’t going to go yachting. And she needed to have more than just the time it would take to drive her home.
“Brad, we need to talk. Can you come to my house for dinner one night this week?”
“I’d like to tell you about the convention. You won’t believe what kind of neurological breakthroughs are on the horizon. But I’m swamped after having been gone. How about I call you Thursday and we will see if I can work something out?”
The day before they were to go to the yacht party. She supposed it would have to do. “Thursday will be fine.”
As soon as they drove up to her apartment, Brad got out and walked her to her door. She managed to find her keys and he took them from her and unlocked it.
Turning her way, he studied her for a minute and she almost ducked around him and dashed inside. Why was he paying attention to her now? A week ago she’d wanted him to look at her, to kiss her, now she didn’t.
“You’re right, Nancy. We need to talk. I guess I’ve been really busy lately and I have to go now too. Make sure you get plenty of rest,” he said then brushed her cheek with a brotherly kiss and left.
Nan stumbled into her apartment surprised to feel tears brim her eyes. She walked back to her bed, saw it all a tumble from her and Jackson being together, saw the wilted spray of honeysuckle lying on the floor and started to cry harder. She didn’t know why she was crying. It wasn’t like she and Jackson had broken up, they hadn’t even been together in any official capacity to break up. He’d asked her to spend the weekend in his bed and she had. She’d asked him to dinner and he’d come.
So if she was feeling pain, if she felt as if she’d made a mistake; it wasn’t anybody’s fault but her own. She made her way out to the couch with a box of tissues and curled into a ball. Shakespeare jumped up and Nan snuggled him into her embrace. Just as soon as she rested, she’d call Jackson and tell him about his truck.
Thirty seconds later, her left eye popped open. If his truck was still at the hospital, then where was Jackson? He never came back inside the Emergency Room, and didn’t show up with the rest of the family when they had come. Her right eye popped open and she knew she wouldn’t rest until she made sure he was all right.
In fact, if she wasn’t so exhausted, she would have realized it before she left the hospital, would have known she needed to check on Jackson.
Getting up, she marched over to the phone, but Jackson didn’t answer. Was he there and just not answering, or had something happened to him? She had to know. Besides, he left his African violet behind.
Bleary-eyed, she drove the miles to Jackson’s cabin. Despite the bright summer sun, the cabin appeared dark and neglected. No breeze lifted the air and it hung hot and humid about her. She heard the distant cry of a crow and almost dreaded putting one foot in front of the other. Needless to say, she was glad Butz had Jackson’s truck so she didn’t have to look at its hood and be reminded of how wonderful her butt had felt on it. She kept her eyes purposely averted from his tarp covered Harley. It definitely just didn’t exist as far as she was concerned. Not if she was going to stay calm and deal with this problem that had been a major problem between her and Jackson since the very beginning. He had to open up and tell her what in God’s name haunted him, or she would have to say goodbye for good.
For all
she knew goodbye for good may be exactly what he meant last night when he to her to forget he existed. She half expected to see him sitting on the porch with his guitar. He wasn’t, but she heard the faint strum of a chord from inside the cabin. She knocked and called out. “Jackson, how did you get home?”
“I walked and hitched. Go away, Nan. I made a mistake and I’m sorry.”
He’d walked? She opened the door and saw him. He half sat, half sprawled on top of the messed up bed. Like she, he still had on the same clothes he’d worn last night, but his were a good bit dirtier. Dust and mud speckled the bottom of his black pants and his shirt that he’d tied her up with hung unbuttoned and misshapen over his broad shoulders. He looked like hell. A half-empty bottle of whiskey on his bedside table didn’t improve her mood; she was starting to get pissed off. He’d rather drink than talk to her or help his brother.
“I brought the African violet.” She set it on his table.
“Take it back. It won’t live in this cabin.”
Now she was more than pissed off. “So that’s it? You’re sorry. You made a mistake. I’m to walk away and never darken your door again?”
He played a jarring chord. “Yeah. That’s it. I never promised you more than sex.”
She paced back and forth, counting each point on her finger. “Let’s replay this. I walked away three months ago, because I knew that this was a mistake. But NOOO. You aren’t happy with that. You have to come barging back into my life bearing sticky buns and honeysuckle sprays. You have to take me on Harley rides and bury yourself so deep inside me that you drive me to heaven. Have you ever heard of such a thing as body language? A man can promise more in his touch than he can ever follow up with his mouth. And I’m supposed to accept a wham-bam-sorry-ma’am and forget it?”
He shut his eyes and turned away from her. “You don’t understand. Just let it go. It’s better this way.”
His rejection cut her deep and she fought back tears. “What don’t I understand, damn it? What are you hiding? Were you driving the car that killed Amy?”
Smooth Irish (Book 2 of the Weldon Series) Page 16
