by Annie Jones
“Goodbye, Shelby.”
Chapter Eight
He was two full tanks of gas and an empty stomach down the road before Jax had any reason to reach into his pocket to pull out some spare change to pay for a snack at the gas station.
“Hey, Mister! You dropped something.” The kid in line behind him stopped to retrieve a wrinkled piece of paper folded in quarters.
“That can’t be mine. It’s...” He looked closer. He recognized that paper. It was the note Shelby had had in her hand when she came to the café door, crying, on the night they found Amanda. He took it from the kid’s hand. “It’s not supposed to be in my pocket. Thanks for spotting that.”
He glanced back at the soft drink and bag of chips in the young man’s hands and told the clerk he wanted to pay for those as well as his own.
“You don’t have to do that,” the kid said. “It was just a piece of paper.”
“You didn’t have to say anything when you saw I dropped this. And to me, it’s more than just a piece of paper.” Jax had no idea how much more until he got back into his truck, settled in with his snack and opened the folded page right there in the gas station parking lot.
To whom it may concern—plus a whole lot of people it doesn’t concern but who will want to know about it, anyway.
Jax couldn’t help but smile at Shelby’s unmistakable style.
I love you all.
Jax paused and just let his eyes rest on the phrase a moment. It was so simple and yet so all-encompassing. And he did not doubt for one second that Shelby meant it. She really did love whoever she thought would end up reading this letter.
Of course she hadn’t even met Jax when she wrote those words.
I love this town. But it’s pretty clear that if I ever hope to make a life for myself, I can’t stay here any longer. I think it’s time I followed my own dreams. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got all your love and all you’ve taught me coming with me, starting with these three rules:
1. Never forget that with God all things are possible.
2. Never let anyone else tell me what I “should” feel.
3. Never, ever trust a cowboy.
Jax scowled. He could actually see the brim of his cowboy hat lying on the seat beside him from the corner of his eye. His stomach clenched.
She had all but told him the first two, but the man who thought he knew everybody’s motivations had missed the third.
I mean it. No cowboys. I don’t need the heartache.
“Heartache,” he murmured. It was not a term he ever wanted to associate with Shelby Grace.
See, good old softhearted Shelby has learned a thing or two over the years. So don’t worry about me. I’ll be in touch when I find someplace to start again where I can be the person I am meant to be.
For now, I leave you with my love and prayers.
Shelby Grace Lockhart
Jax ran his fingertips over the round, careful penmanship of Shelby’s name. He remembered the tears in her eyes the night she had intended to leave this for her father and friends to find. These words had cost her dearly, and she had given them to him and him alone.
It was a humbling responsibility she had given him. A gift of insight and a secret that so few people would ever have trusted with a stranger. He folded the note in half, then in half again. He reached over and pushed the button to open the truck’s glove compartment, but even before the thing could spring completely open, he flicked it shut again.
Not just any stranger, he thought as he looked beyond the note to the Stetson on the seat. Jax never thought of himself as a cowboy, but he sure did look like one that night outside the café. And Shelby had found a way to trust him, eventually, in a way she trusted no one else.
Jax’s actions had curtailed her attempt to leave town, to make that fresh start, but more importantly, he’d left her sleepless and emotionally vulnerable in that town, with the cowboy who had broken Shelby’s heart still out there.
He tucked the note in his shirt pocket and started the truck’s engine. In minutes he was heading back in the direction he had just come from, unfazed by the long hours of driving ahead. He knew his responsibility in Sunnyside was not done, and prayed that he wasn’t too late to be worthy of Shelby’s trust.
* * *
It had taken hours for Shelby to fall asleep, but when she had, she had slept so soundly that she didn’t hear her cell phone ring in the middle of the night. She glanced at the “unavailable” number the next morning as she fed Amanda a bottle.
She stifled a yawn and dismissed it out loud to Miss Delta as the older woman headed off to work. “Usually when I get a call with a hidden ID, it’s someone trying to sell me something. I’m not going to worry about it.”
“That’s smart, honey. You can’t do anything about it if you don’t know who it was. They’ll call again if it’s important. Especially if it was whoever left Amanda.” Miss Delta stopped to do one more check of her blond hair and peachy lipstick in the mirror before she snatched up her huge pink faux alligator purse, slung it over her shoulder and hurried out the door.
A chill swept over Shelby’s exhausted body. Could it be? She hoisted the baby onto her shoulder. After only three days, Amanda had already become part of Shelby’s life and had taken a piece of her heart, and maybe a bit of her memory, as Shelby had all but stopped thinking about a birth mother out there possibly wanting to make contact.
“I had sort of gotten used to the idea that you’d be with me awhile, Amanda sweetie. I want what’s best for you, of course, but...I guess I was hoping I was what was best for you.”
No sleep. No Jax. No job. And the idea taking seed in her head that Amanda’s mother had her number and had used it. It was no wonder that Shelby decided she’d let somebody else make her breakfast that morning.
“If you came to get your job back, you’re too late,” her dad called out through the service window between the counter and the kitchen the minute Shelby walked through the doors of the Crosspoint Café.
“That fast?” Shelby hustled in and settled the baby carrier down in the first empty booth, then slid in with her back to the morning mayhem of the only breakfast joint in town. “I know it’s hard times out there, but I can’t believe anyone in Sunnyside would be that quick to grab my old job.”
“Who said I hired someone from Sunnyside?” her dad shot back over the clunk of a couple of heavy plates being set down. “Order up!”
“I got it. I got it,” came a familiar male voice that made Shelby sit up and twist around in the seat.
“Jax!”
Jackson Stroud lifted two plates piled high with eggs, bacon and hash browns in both hands. “Got hungry people waiting. I’ll be over to take orders from you—that is, to take your order—in a minute, Miss Shelby Grace.”
He was dressed in a long white bib apron, which covered his blue shirt and jeans, and his hair was a jumble of waves. The dark stubble on his face provided a contrast to the whiteness of his teeth as he flashed a broad grin at her.
Shelby’s heart melted then and there. She honestly could not have imagined a single person she would have rather seen this morning than the one man who could help her figure out who had called last night and what to do about it. And he looked so adorable, too.
Once he’d set the plates down at a nearby table and asked how everything looked, he made his way to her side. Crouching beside her seat, he withdrew a pad and pencil from the pocket of his apron and finally looked right into her eyes. “What would you like, Shelby?”
To know everything is going to be all right. Then, gazing into the eyes of this man who was still here when here was not where his own dreams led him, Shelby sighed. Maybe everything wouldn’t be all right, but this moment was right. Maybe that would be enough. “I’d like to know what you are doing here.”
>
He chuckled softly and dropped his gaze to the floor, shaking his head. “I read your note.”
“Oh.” Her stomach clenched.
“And I just couldn’t be another cowboy that let you down.”
She whispered a thank-you, knowing that was not big enough to cover the depth of her gratitude.
He smiled, just a little, and acknowledged her thanks with a nod.
She wanted to say it again, and then again. She wanted him to know just how much it meant to have someone know the real her and still have come back to—
The reality of it all hit her just then. Jax had read her note. He was the only person who knew her secret—that she thought she would never have the life of her dreams if she stayed in the place where everyone cared about her so much. She pressed her lips together for a moment to muster her courage, then said, too quietly for anyone else to hear, “I gave that to you only because I thought I’d never see you again, and that you’d never see anyone here again. I just wanted one person to know how I felt, not how I was supposed to feel.”
“I’m honored to be the first person to know that. Though you know how you feel, Shelby. That’s something some folks never really figure out. But you?” He shook his head. His smile came slowly. He didn’t just look at her; he met her gaze and they connected there. “You know who you are, girl. So I’m technically the second person who knows.”
It wasn’t particularly eloquently put, but it said it all. She knew who she was. “No one in my life has ever gotten that, Jax.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone what was in the note. I know it was a big deal that you picked me.”
Shelby had picked him. Out of all the people she could have told who would have understood, she had chosen Jax.
“I’m sorry if I made a mess of your plans,” he said.
“No! You didn’t. You couldn’t.”
“I think I did.” He shook his head. Even through the aroma of thick-cut bacon in the air, his motion brought with it the scent of fresh soap and men’s aftershave. “First, by sticking my nose in the meeting with the social worker so that you ended up having to stay here to take care of Amanda, and then by leaving you before that situation was really resolved.”
“No, don’t feel bad about that. It was the right thing to do. Look at her.” She reached into the carrier and lifted out her precious charge. “I was only fooling myself to think I could have left her in Westmoreland with strangers and taken off to follow my own bliss.”
“Hi, cutie.” Jax brushed his knuckle over the baby’s plump cheek. “Miss me?”
Amanda’s smile lit her whole small face.
Jax did not just reflect its light, but joined it with a grin that made Shelby actually laugh softly.
Amanda reached up and wrapped her hand around Jax’s bent finger.
“I think she did.” Jax laughed. “I think she did miss me.”
She wasn’t the only one, Shelby wished she had the courage to say.
Still smiling, he tugged free from Amanda’s hold and stood at last. “You can tell me what you want anytime, Shelby.”
“Really?” Her whole life, she had longed to have someone who actually cared what she wanted. Who would invite her to speak her mind, instead of assuming they knew what she would do or what was best for her. The idea of someone—of Jax—asking made her heartbeat skip a little.
She took a deep breath and looked up.
Jax pressed the pencil to the pad. “Anytime meaning hopefully real soon. I have other tables to wait on, so...”
“Oh. Yes. I...” She became so flustered, she actually picked up a menu to get some idea what to order. She stared at the laminated page and blinked, willing herself not to blush at having let herself get so sidetracked by this man who had come to mean so much to her so quickly. “I...don’t...”
Jax slid the menu from between her fingers. “Why don’t I surprise you?”
“Surprise?” In other words, trust him. “Okay. Sounds like fun.”
“Then, fun it is.” He gave her a wink and turned away.
She sighed, relieved to have a moment to regroup and refocus, get her mind off how she had gotten so far off track once again.
“Shelby?” Jax looked back at her. “I meant that.”
“Oh, I know.” She shifted in the bench, wondering who was watching them. “You take your fun pretty seriously.”
He laughed, then leaned in. “You can always tell me what you want. I promise to listen and not decide I know what’s best for you.”
“Thanks, Jax.”
He nodded, then straightened up and headed to the kitchen. He called out to the other patrons as he made his way through the café. “Be back with a refill as soon as I get this order in. Decaf, right? Got enough syrup there? Everything tasting okay?”
People responded with friendly ease.
Shelby shook her head at how seamlessly he fit into the fabric of the small community. Yet she couldn’t help reminding herself that he had come back to finish what he’d begun, not to start a new stage in his life.
She reached over to make Amanda comfortable, saying, “He’s not bad, is he? Wish I had more time to get to know him, but we both know he’s going to be out of here as soon as—”
“Any guy who would walk away from you, Shelby Grace, isn’t a man worth you wasting your time on.”
Her whole body tensed at the intrusion of another familiar male voice. This one definitely not so welcome. Her mouth formed the name that she didn’t have breath enough to say out loud. Mitch Warner.
“You should know. You walked out on her time and time again yourself, Mitch Warner.” Sheriff Andy’s voice carried over the sound of the café door swinging open and shut again.
Shelby didn’t need anyone coming to her rescue, not even the man pledged to serve and protect the whole town. She tucked the blanket with the embroidered name protectively around Amanda, then raised her head, angling her chin up. She focused her mind on the promise that God would give her strength.
“I can handle this, Sheriff Andy.” She threw back her shoulders and aimed a cool look at the man with the reddish-brown hair in the beat-up straw cowboy hat. “What are you doing here, Mitch?”
“I don’t know what you think you have, Shelby Grace, but Mitch is here because I asked him to come round.” The sheriff slid into the booth across from Shelby and Amanda. “Seeing as we have an eyewitness putting his car here on the night of the baby being abandoned, I thought he and I needed to have a little chat.”
“Eyewitness to what? What night are you talking about? You didn’t say anything about—” Mitch had started to make himself cozy by settling in beside Shelby, but now he stood again. “Wait! Did you say baby?”
“Mitch Warner, meet Amanda.” Shelby scooted away from the carrier, to make it easier to see the baby and harder for Mitch to share the seat with her.
“Shelby? Denby? Who’s this?” Jax set a platter down on the table in front of Shelby.
“Shelby says her name is Amanda,” Mitch said with a shrug. “Who are you?”
Jax started to say something, which Shelby suspected was a little more abrupt than introducing himself and giving Mitch a warm “How d’y’do?” but she beat him to it. “Mitch, this is Jackson Stroud. Jax, this is Mitchell Warner.”
The two stared each other down, neither offering a hand to shake or an inch of ground.
“Now that those introductions are behind us, what I want to know is—who is this?” Shelby indicated the stack of pancakes with blueberries for the eyes, a strawberry for the nose, raisins for the smile and a cowboy hat with a lengthwise slice of banana for the brim and whipped cream for the top.
“I thought I’d give you a cowboy to make you smile for a change.” Jax grinned at her, then gave Mitch a cold-eyed glare. “You
’re in charge. Go on. Take a bite out of him.”
Shelby couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks.”
“For a change? What’s that supposed to mean?” Mitch tipped his beat-up straw hat back on his head.
“It means we’ve got some questions for you...cowboy.” Jax stepped toward Mitch, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Starting with why someone spotted your car around here the night the baby was left here.”
Mitch did not back down. “First off, I don’t owe any explanations to a waiter. Second, I ain’t been around the Crosspoint since Shelby and I decided to not see so much of each other.”
“Not to see so much of each other? You were sneaking around with two other women! The last six months of our so-called relationship, I barely saw you at all.” Shelby looked down at the pancake cowboy Jax had concocted to remind her that she didn’t have to settle for heartache from anyone.
You know who you are. You know what you feel.
Jax’s conclusions, mixed with her own outrage, spurred Shelby to speak her mind to Mitch at last. “Mitch Warner, you are a cheater and a liar. Somebody left this precious, precious baby on my doorstep a few nights ago, and someone else reported seeing your flashy red car out by the—”
“Hold on there. Red car? Did you say red car?” Mitch snorted, shook his head and slapped his grubby jeans.
“Flashy? Did you call that sun-faded, rusted, bumpered Mustang flashy?” Jax asked.
Shelby whipped her head around to respond to the man who loved jumping to conclusions about people and thinking he knew all about them. Clearly this was his way of saying he thought her feelings for Mitch had blinded her to the truth about him, and his junker of a car.
“I don’t even have that car anymore, Shelby Grace.” Mitch tipped his hat back down, casual as could be, and laughed. “Couldn’t have been me over here that night.”
“So you deny you own the car but not that you’re a cheat and a liar.” Jax folded his arms over his broad chest. “Interesting.”
