Second Chance Match Page 9

  “Hi.”

  Smiling wryly, she nodded at his cup. “Are you drinking tea?”

  He gave the mug in his fist a bemused glance. “Yeah. The stuff kind of grows on you after a while.” He made a show of looking behind her and asked, “Where’s Hunter?”

  “He’s in the attic with Magnolia picking out which toys he wants to keep for his own.”

  “Ah. Had a feeling that would happen. Actually, I’m surprised Mags didn’t just run out and buy him a bunch of new stuff.”

  Jessa laughed soundlessly. “She did suggest that, but I put my foot down.”

  No surprise there, Garrett thought, though he wisely refrained from saying so.

  An awkward silence ensued. Suddenly, Garrett realized that he was being rude and popped up to his full height, he waved his cup at the chaise. “Sorry. Want to sit?”

  She shocked him by nodding then walking over to gingerly lower herself onto the very cushion that he had just vacated. She sat sideways on the chaise, her feet flat on the brick of the patio. Garrett managed to maintain a normal expression as he sat next to her.

  “I, um…I think I overreacted this afternoon,” she told him hesitantly.

  Something inside Garrett loosened. Chuckling, he said, “I’ve never known anyone who could be so mad without exploding.”

  She took a small breath, as if she might explain, but then instead she said, “Everyone here has been so good to us. It’s just that…he’s my son, and it’s my job to protect him.”

  “Which you do very well,” Garrett told her, choosing to ignore the implication that he might be a danger to the boy.

  “Not always,” she said, shaking her head. “If I had done a better job, he wouldn’t be so…”

  “Let me tell you something about fatherless boys,” Garrett said gently. “They have a hard time figuring out what their role is, but it’s the women in their lives who convince them that they can be successful men. Or not.”

  “And your mom did that for you,” she surmised.

  He saw the shock on her face when he shook his head. “No. Mom was too lost after my dad died to help even herself. I was seven when he died in a cave-in while digging a ditch. Trying to be the man of the house, I went out looking for work with an old lawnmower, and Magnolia was the only one who would hire me. More importantly, she spent time talking to me. She’s the one who made me feel useful and praised the little things I did, then showed me how to do better. She’s the one who talked to me about Jesus. She’s the one who convinced me I could do more and be better than I believed, that I could rise above my situation and live a life of meaning and purpose. Kind of like you do with Hunter.”

  Jessa blinked at that, her eyes dark liquid in the moonlight. “Do you think so?”

  “I know so. I’ve seen it.”

  She looked down at her hands, whispering, “I worry about not protecting him.”

  “Sweetie, if anything, you’re a little overprotective,” Garrett told her honestly, “but that’s better than the opposite. Believe me.”

  “Didn’t your mom protect you?” Jessa asked.

  “She did the best she could,” Garrett told her, “but she wasn’t the best at setting boundaries. The truth is that I pretty much ran wild after my dad died. There were whole days when she didn’t know where I was, and what kept me on the straight and narrow was the fear of disappointing Magnolia.”

  “No wonder you’re so fond of her,” Jessa said.

  “Oh, I’m more than fond of her,” he admitted. “I owe her so much. She has a kind of strength that my mother never did. You have it, too.”

  Jessa flashed him a surprised look. It was true, though. He saw it very clearly, and it gave him hope for her and Hunter. He prayed that he could help her trust that strength and pass it on to her son, just as Mags had done for him.

  “I was seventeen when my mom remarried,” Garrett said carefully. “I didn’t know Doyle very well, but my dad had been gone for nearly ten years, so I was happy for her. Then one morning I walked into the kitchen and she had a bruise in the shape of a handprint around her throat.”

  Jessa gasped, her hand going to her own throat.

  “Of course, Mom had an explanation,” Garrett related softly, “for that bruise and the next and the next.”

  Jessa bowed her head.

  “I tried to stand up for her,” Garrett said, “but she’d always get between Doyle and me. One day we got into a shouting match, and he told me to get out. I begged her to come with me, but she just kept saying that he was her husband.” Jessa sighed, so he asked, “Any of this sound familiar?”

  For a long moment, Jessa said nothing. Then she nodded and whispered, “I married too young, didn’t know anything about men.”

  Garrett’s heart began a slow, pronounced beat. Here was his chance to help her. He didn’t know why it was so important that he do so, but she was finally opening up, and he meant to make the most of this opportunity. He chose his words with care.

  “How could you know anything about men? Your dad had walked out when you were very young.”

  She tilted her head back, gazing up at the night sky. “For a long time I thought it was my fault that my father left.” She dropped her gaze to her hands. “He’d yelled at me for arguing with my sister. Then he grabbed his keys and said he was going to the store. He never came back.”

  Garrett resisted the urge to squeeze the dainty hands that she knotted together atop her knees, saying instead, “Oh, man. What a rotten thing to do. And you carried that into your marriage.”

  “I guess. At first, I believed that Wayne got so upset with me because I was doing something wrong.”

  “But you couldn’t placate him, could you?”

  “Never,” she confessed, shaking her head.

  “But you stayed, trying to do better,” Garrett surmised.

  “I didn’t think I had a choice. You see, I got pregnant right after we married.”

  Garrett nodded, then quietly asked, “When did he start hitting you?”

  He felt her struggling to let go of the secret. Keeping the secret became a habit, he knew, a habit layered in shame. Even he had been guilty of it. He hadn’t let on to anyone what had been going on inside of his mother’s house, not until it was too late.

  Finally, she gathered her courage and answered him in a small, shaky voice. “I was about seven months along with Hunter.”

  Garrett wrestled his anger into submission. “What changed?” Garrett asked after a moment, truly needing to know. Jessa, after all, had gotten out of her situation. His mother never had. “Why did you finally decide you could leave?”

  “One day he hit Hunter in public,” Jessa said simply.

  Garrett fought the urge to growl at the idea of someone actually striking the boy, but she spoke so softly that he was afraid he’d miss something if he didn’t stay silent.

  “It was the last day before Thanksgiving vacation,” she went on, “and Wayne went to pick up Hunter early from school because we were going to my sister’s and he didn’t want to drive after dark. The teacher realized Hunter had left behind a decoration that he’d made for his aunt, so she went out to take it to him. She saw Wayne hit Hunter in the chest with his fist and knock him across the hallway. Hunter said later that it was because he hadn’t been ready when Wayne came for him. The school reported the incident. Wayne was arrested. I got a protection order and filed for divorce.”

  “Had he hit Hunter before?” Garrett asked in a strangled voice.

  “Yes, but I wasn’t aware of it at the time. He’d shaken Hunter in my presence, grabbed him by the arm and the back of the neck, and he would yell right in Hunter’s face, but I always intervened. We had some of our worst fights because of it. Then Wayne would show Hunter my bruises
later and tell him it was his fault. I tried to tell him that it wasn’t, but I knew Hunter didn’t believe me. When Wayne started hitting him, he’d pick a place where it didn’t easily show, knowing Hunter would keep quiet about it. Same thing he did with me.”

  Garrett closed his eyes, his hand gripping the tea mug so hard he feared it might shatter. “Why didn’t you leave sooner?” he croaked out.

  She sighed as if she’d known that was coming. “No money. No car. And he constantly threatened to kill my mother if I went to her.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Garrett whispered, not sure if he was speaking to Jessa or his late mom.

  “I was planning to leave him when it all blew up,” Jessa went on. “My mom died of a heart attack a few months prior to that, and she’d left my sister and me a little money and her shop supplies. I managed to get my share squirreled away without Wayne knowing about it, and I’d spoken to a lawyer. Then once he was in jail, I saw my chance.” She smiled wanly, adding, “I’ve been telling Hunter ever since that he got us out.”

  “That’s good,” Garrett told her sincerely. “I’m glad you’ve done that.”

  “Me, too,” she whispered before going on with her story. “When I realized that Wayne would never leave us alone, even after the divorce and all the police stuff, I moved to another town, but he found us and went to the school to try to talk to Hunter. So, I moved again, and I kept Hunter out of school, teaching him myself, but Wayne went to my sister, and she let it slip where we were. I was trying to figure out where to go next and how to get there when I remembered that I’d promised my mother I’d stay in touch with Abby. I called her, and she insisted on coming to get us. I packed up what I could, and we came here. A few days later she introduced me to Ellie.”

  “And you thought all your problems were solved,” Garrett surmised, shaking his head.

  “For about three hours.”

  They shared a wan smile over that, and suddenly Garrett couldn’t seem to breathe. Her dark eyes held his as if they were tethered, but he was keenly aware of her lips just inches from his own. He felt the dregs of his tea slosh in the bottom of his cup and realized that he had actually reached for her. At the last instant, he made his hand turn and dashed the contents of his cup onto the ground, then he quickly edged away, leaning on one elbow to put distance between them.

  He hoped that it came off like a casual action, and apparently it had because she crossed her legs and asked in a conversational tone, “What do you think is going to happen with the Monroe place?”

  He dropped his gaze to his empty cup, saying, “I think you’ll be setting up shop there before Odelia’s wedding.”

  “I don’t know,” Jessa said with a shake of her head. “It’s perfect for your purposes. Even I can see that.”

  “Yours, too,” Garrett remarked. “Pity we can’t share it.”

  Even as she laughed, he sat up straight. That would be the perfect solution! Why not share it?

  She rose to her feet, slid her hands over the sleeves of her pale green blouse and said, “Well, I need to get back to Hunter. I just wanted to thank you for looking after him today. I didn’t mean for things to work out like that, and I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  “It was no problem,” he told her, getting up belatedly. “I enjoyed the day.”

  “Still,” she said, moving to the door. There she paused, looked back and added wistfully, “It’s for the best.”

  With that, she went inside, leaving him to drop down onto the chaise once again. So much for his perfect solution, he thought glumly. Maybe she didn’t hate him, as he’d feared, but she would never agree to share the property with him. She obviously still intended to keep him as far away as possible.

  After all that she’d been through, he couldn’t really blame her. He disliked being kept at arms’ length by her far more than was healthy for his heart.

  Swiftly crossing the tile floor of the sunroom, Jessa acknowledged a sense of disquiet. She’d been mad to seek out Garrett tonight and reveal so much to him, but she’d also been unfair to him when she’d returned to the house earlier that afternoon and had needed to remedy that somehow.

  She couldn’t explain it, really. After Wayne, she’d promised herself that she would never again apologize to a man, but sitting there on the attic floor with Magnolia and Hunter after dinner, she’d watched her son’s shining face as he’d gingerly turned the “fairy whirl” and she’d known Garrett was responsible for Hunter’s happiness. Suddenly she hadn’t been able to let another moment go by without making amends. Leaving Hunter, under Magnolia’s supervision, to agonize over which three toys he would choose for his own from the overflowing toy trunk, Jessa had headed for the greenhouse, only to find Garrett sipping tea on the patio.

  His obvious contentment had struck her. She’d never seen her ex-husband in so relaxed a pose. He’d either oozed charm, which she had come to realize was calculated, or perched on the precipice of violence, a predator looking for any sign of weakness. As for her long absent father, Jessa remembered him as being edgy, distant and easily irritated.

  Garrett was not like either of the men from her past. But she was starting to think that he might be a genuinely good guy. Hunter certainly thought so. He had sung Garrett’s praises from the moment she’d returned to the house that afternoon. So far as her son was concerned, Garrett Willows hung the moon. And what a moon it was.

  Jessa smiled, recalling the perfect, pale yellow, half circle overhead. She’d never seen such a large half-moon or so clear a sky. The romance of it had unnerved her a bit, and she could only hope that Garrett hadn’t noticed. An odd feeling of intimacy had enveloped them as they’d talked, and perhaps that had induced her to say more than she normally would have about her past.

  Garrett had seemed to believe all that she’d said, but then he had experience with abuse himself, if what he’d told her about his mother and stepfather was true. Guilt for doubting him flashed over her, but really, how could she know? She’d taken as fact every word that Wayne had spoken to her—until he’d shown her his true self. She dared not trust her instincts where Garrett was concerned, which meant that putting distance between him and her and her son remained the only sensible option.

  But what if Garrett was all that he seemed? She could be passing up the best thing that had ever happened to her. No, that couldn’t be right. Hunter was the best thing ever to happen to her. It struck her suddenly that Hunter would grow up one day and make his own life, as he should. What kind of man would he be? Shy and careful? Bold and confident? Thoughtful and wise? Or some combination of all those things? And what of her? Clinging and dependent, afraid to love or be loved by anyone other than the son whom she had held too close?

  She wished for the pounding of Mr. Bowen’s hammer to distract her thoughts, but the Chatam sisters did not allow him to work on weekends, let alone evenings. Stepping up onto the landing, she noticed that the door to the suite stood open and that the light in the sitting room shined through the doorway. She went there and found Magnolia sitting on the couch with Hunter, listening intently while he pointed out all the details of his favorite toy car. They both looked up and smiled at her.

  “Mommy, look!” Hunter cried, hopping up to run to the desk, where he had left his chosen toys.

  Jessa walked over and nodded at the scarred action figure, battered toy dump truck and several sections of miniature racetrack and connectors. “Looks like fun. Did you thank Miss Magnolia?”

  “He did,” Magnolia confirmed, rising to walk around the sofa toward them. “I trust you found Garrett.”

  Jessa thought about inventing a reason for seeking out Garrett. She could always say that she wanted to talk about the flowers for the wedding, but she hated a liar and refused to become one now. That didn’t mean she had to explain why she’d gone to find him. “Yes, I
did.”

  “Very good. Well, I’ll leave the two of you to enjoy your evening. We leave for church at half past nine in the morning, by the way.”

  Jessa wondered if attending church with the Chatams was wise. She and Hunter would be leaving soon, after all. The Chatams would surely have little time for her and her son after they left the household. Why build attachments? Besides, she doubted that she had anything to wear that wouldn’t make her look like a homeless waif next to her hostesses.

  “I’m not sure we can go,” she said softly. “We should probably go where Abby does,” she added quickly, having just thought of it. “She invited us as soon as we arrived in Buffalo Creek.”

  “Well, that’s fine, then,” Magnolia replied, beaming. “Abby attends the Downtown Bible Church the same as we do.”

  “I see.” Jessa mentally conceded. It had been months since she and Hunter had attended church, after all. Following the divorce, she hadn’t wanted to attend services where she and Wayne had gone, and without transportation, finding another church had seemed impossible. That problem had remained after she and Hunter had moved, and they hadn’t been in Buffalo Creek long enough to attend a service with Abby before coming here to Chatam House.

  “We’ll see you in the morning, then,” Magnolia said complacently. Jessa nodded. “Oh, and, I’ve been meaning to tell you that Carol will be happy to do your laundry for you.”

  “No, no, I couldn’t let her do that,” Jessa insisted, shaking her head.

  “In that case,” Magnolia told her, “you’re welcome to use the washer and dryer in the laundry room. You’ll find it off the covered walkway behind the kitchen between this house and the carriage house.”

  “Thank you. That’s very helpful.”

  Smiling again, Magnolia left them.

  Jessa sighed and brought her hands to her hips. So, it would be laundry for her tonight and church for both her and Hunter tomorrow. At least she wouldn’t have to scrub their things in the bathtub.

  She gathered the laundry, thinking of Garrett Willows. A man like Garrett would never be interested in her, not romantically.