Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | Second Chance Father

Second Chance Father
Renee Andrews
The Widower’s Fresh StartAfter losing his family, Jack Simon moved to the remote Alabama woods to be alone. But when an uncommunicative boy appears on his property, everything changes. Dedicated social worker Elise Ramsey explains the boy is an orphan with autism who lives in a nearby children’s home. The beautiful woman seems so hopeful about young Cody’s kinship with Jack, and despite his vows to never be a husband or father again, Jack can’t help being drawn in to both their lives. But can the rugged recluse truly open his heart again and chance loving the woman and boy who’ve come to mean so much to him?


The Widower’s Fresh Start
After losing his family, Jack Simon moved to the remote Alabama woods to be alone. But when an uncommunicative boy appears on his property, everything changes. Dedicated social worker Elise Ramsey explains the boy is an orphan with autism who lives in a nearby children’s home. The beautiful woman seems so hopeful about young Cody’s kinship with Jack, and despite his vows to never be a husband or father again, Jack can’t help being drawn into both their lives. But can the rugged recluse truly open his heart again and chance loving the woman and boy who’ve come to mean so much to him?
“That’s the first sound Cody has made with me,” Elise said with a smile.
“But you said he can communicate.” Jack remembered her mentioning it on the first day.
“He could before the accident.”
“And now he doesn’t.” Jack’s empathy toward the boy intensified. Yes, Jack had lost his family, too, but he’d only withdrawn from society. Cody had withdrawn from everything.
“Now he doesn’t,” she repeated softly.
“Without speaking, I’m guessing the chances for an autistic boy to be adopted are slim to nil,” Jack deduced.
Elise didn’t answer, but her silence said everything. The boy needed to communicate in order to stand a chance at a family wanting to adopt him.
Pondering Cody’s situation and what he could do to help, Jack carefully maintained his distance from the woman in his kitchen.
He didn’t want to stand too close, didn’t want to be too close. But he also needed her to understand that he didn’t want to stop seeing Cody.
Today was the first day Jack had felt alive in a very long time.
Dear Reader (#ulink_4911ef30-b412-5fc0-b160-3f7346c5ab0a),
While writing this book, I received a phone call I never wanted to receive. “I’m at the hospital.” Those were Matt’s words, and I could tell from his tone that it wasn’t good news. If you’ve read anything about me or follow me on social media, you know that five years ago I met a twenty-four-year-old young man who needed a kidney and hadn’t found a match. God put it on my heart that day that I would match, even though his family members hadn’t. And God doesn’t lie. We were a perfect, better-than-sibling, all-six-antigen match. Merely six months after meeting Matt, I gave him my kidney, and it began working in the operating room. Praise God!
Matt has become a son to me and my husband, a brother to our other two sons. We love him, his beautiful wife, Brittany, and their boys, our grandsons, Ryan and Brooks. They are family. So when Matt called to explain that he’d had a sinus infection and that the antibodies to fight the infection had viewed my kidney as foreign...and started attacking, my heart plummeted. My prayers skyrocketed. But as of today, the kidney has not started working again, and Matt has returned to dialysis.
One of the most painful things I’ve ever had to hear came a month ago, when Matt said, “I’m sorry. I hope you don’t regret what you did, because you gave me a better life for five years and gave us two beautiful boys.” I couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “There are no regrets. Only blessings. Am I confused about why this is happening? Absolutely. We were the ‘miracle match’ as they termed us in the hospital and on the news. But God gave you five years with a working kidney. God gave me a son, a daughter-in-law and two more precious grandbabies. And God has been here, the whole time, working through the joy and the pain.”
Will we face storms in life, the way Jack and Elise face storms in this book? Absolutely. But God never promised a perfect life, not here, though we will have that perfect life one day. Where we don’t receive those hospital calls, don’t watch our loved ones suffer, don’t wonder what we could have done to have made things better. And until then, God is right here, all the time.
I wanted desperately to portray how much we need God in the stormy times of life. This book, these characters, have touched me so deeply, and I truly hope they’ve touched you too. And if you’re facing storms, I pray for you to turn to God. Let Him be your anchor in the storm.
As always, I welcome prayer requests from my readers. Write to me at: Renee Andrews, PO Box 8, Gadsden, AL 35902 or through email at renee@ reneeandrews.com and I will gladly lift your requests to our Heavenly Father in prayer.
If you would like to keep up with me, my family, my books and my devotions online, please join my Facebook page: www.Facebook.com/AuthorReneeAndrews (https://www.facebook.com/AuthorReneeAndrews)
Blessings in Christ,
Renee
RENEE ANDREWS spends a lot of time in the gym. No, she isn’t working out. Her husband, a former All-American gymnast, co-owns ACE Cheer Company. Renee is a kidney donor and actively supports organ donation. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys traveling with her husband and bragging about their sons, daughter-in-law and grandsons. For more info on her books or on living donors, visit her website at reneeandrews.com (http://www.reneeandrews.com).
Second Chance Father
Renee Andrews


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The Lord is a refuge for the oppressed,
a stronghold in times of trouble. Those who know
Your name trust in You, for You, Lord,
have never forsaken those who seek You.
—Psalms 9:9–10
The past year has blessed our family
with three precious new grandbabies.
This book is dedicated to them:
Brooks McCallum, Naomi Zeringue
and Konrad Zeringue. Pops and KK love you,
big as the sky, to the moon and back!
Acknowledgments (#ulink_9b7af65e-e130-5471-8401-29d8b091c157)
Tremendous thanks to my editor, Shana Asaro, for her understanding and guidance in helping me best portray the story and characters that are so near and dear to my heart.
Kelly Mooney, thank you so much for insight into your world. When I realized I’d be meeting an honest-to-goodness LA producer three years ago, I didn’t know God was providing a new friend. You’re amazing, and I truly hope you’ll come see us in Alabama again!
Emily Hausmann Hill, I remember the first time I met you, when you brought three precious children to our home for fostering. You truly care about each and every child you’ve helped place over the years, and our family was blessed to have you as our social worker. Thank you for your guidance in Elise’s character.
As always, any and all errors are completely mine.
Contents
Cover (#u657cdb9b-9013-59f7-b075-fa44fb36136c)
Back Cover Text (#u07c5c8b7-585f-5a5f-beaf-2fd55b815a8e)
Introduction (#ufc79d88f-d215-50e3-9a27-940807f14c2e)
Dear Reader (#ulink_01c29a48-7729-581d-bb71-0d9dd23327db)
About the Author (#u2f24a8b3-413f-5733-9c9a-e1d6c1ba99bf)
Title Page (#u225241bc-f7fb-595b-9f69-f4c12ad3faa6)
Bible Verse (#ue0f37070-de0a-5a6f-825a-3dc629ef905d)
Dedication (#u7945e67d-9669-59d4-98b4-383b34ee096c)
Acknowledgments (#ulink_53f0f633-e997-545e-b618-afa1c53dfec6)
Chapter One (#ulink_4b62b2c9-ec99-5787-8fde-e3d5d5ca616f)
Chapter Two (#ulink_b0f3e774-6ead-5f3c-aa36-db222ac547a7)
Chapter Three (#ulink_36873596-f249-5fe7-a8ef-21886ad12a91)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_6b003fc5-f4c9-5219-adb9-d27ad58baa11)
A dark-haired boy stood at the edge of Jack Simon’s property.
Yesterday, when Jack first saw the child near the woods, he’d believed his grief had finally taken its toll on his mind. He’d bought this cabin specifically for the location, far enough away from civilization that he’d never be reminded of everything he’d lost—not the wife who loved him with the kind of adoration he attempted to portray on the silver screen, or the twin girls who made his heart soar with their uninhibited giggles, or the son...
The boy looked as real as the woman Jack had fabricated last week during his morning run. He’d never encountered anyone in that time, when daylight barely touched the forest and the trail was as desolate as his soul, but that day, he’d envisioned a striking woman, her arms wrapped around her stomach as she curled into herself, rocking through the pain of her sobs.
Dark chestnut hair veiled her face until she must have sensed she’d been spotted and peered through the woods toward Jack. Even with tears streaming down her cheeks, she’d been one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. Olive skin. Doe eyes. A full mouth curved down with sadness.
Angry he’d allowed himself to betray Laney’s memory with the alluring vision, Jack had increased his speed, running with such abandon that he left the path and lost himself in the dense woods, where the canopy of trees blocked out every ounce of light.
He had no idea how long he ran that morning, not that it mattered. It wasn’t like he had anywhere to be at any certain time.
Another reason he’d moved here.
The boy tapped his fingers together at his chest. If Jack were imagining a child, would he look so detailed, with his head cocked to the side as though he were confused to find Jack in the middle of the woods, instead of the other way around? And if Jack had dreamed up a kid that looked ten years old, the same age as Jack Jr. had been, wouldn’t the boy be sandy-haired, like his son? Or have that easy smile and those deep dimples that always graced JJ’s face? This boy’s mouth stretched flat, not quite in a frown, but closer to a grimace than a smile.
Then again, the woman he concocted hadn’t looked like Laney, either. His beloved wife, with her white-blond curls and fair skin making her appear even more innocent on their wedding day. The woman in the woods contrasted with Laney in every way, from her tan skin to her dark hair to the torment etched on her face.
The boy shook his head, as though he’d decided he was in the wrong place, or that Jack wasn’t who he’d planned to see this deep in the woods.
It’d been a long time, at least three or four days, since Jack had been required to mutter a word, but sensing the boy was about to flee, he cleared his throat and called out, “Hey! Do you live around here?” An odd question, since Jack hadn’t seen any other homes nearby. But he assumed there could be more places like this tucked within the thick forests that blanketed North Alabama’s Lookout Mountains.
Maybe the boy camped with his family near Jasper Falls. Jack supposed schools could be out for fall break, since it was the third week of October. But Jasper Falls was at least four miles away. Chances were the kid had wandered farther than he realized. JJ had done that once, when Jack had been shooting The Journey on location near Prague. Laney had been frantic with worry when they couldn’t find their son. So had Jack.
And the joy they’d experienced when JJ had been found spurred the idea for Finding Home, a film that would be released in two months, on Christmas Day. The last picture Jack would ever direct.
And a premiere he’d never see.
He swallowed thickly, wiped a sleeve against his brow and squinted toward the kid again. “Are you...lost or something?” He could ask himself the same question. Lost. Out of his mind. Out of his element. It’d been two years since that plane went down. Everyone had claimed he’d be normal after one.
Of course, Jack had never been accused of being normal.
But in spite of the concerns from his friends, his parents and every studio in LA, he’d found the most remote place to live. Away from the pain. Away from every reminder of the past.
And then...this boy.
Jack stopped sanding the slab of wood destined to be the side of his dresser and removed the wide plank from the table saw. He needed to determine what to do about the boy. Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he prepared to let the authorities know about the child wandering the woods. Then he glanced toward the trees and, like yesterday, the kid disappeared as quickly as he’d come.
A sudden urge to pray for the boy’s safety—and his own sanity—coaxed Jack’s brain, but he swallowed past the impulse that had once been second nature. God wasn’t listening, and Jack still had serious doubts about whether the child even existed. No need to call the police to announce he’d lost his mind. Besides, escaping civilization didn’t include broadcasting his residence in the woods. So far, he’d managed to stay clear of the townsfolk in Claremont, the tiny community fifteen miles away. Keeping his distance would be a lot easier if he didn’t summon the cops to his house.
He grabbed his thermos from the porch, took a long drink of ice water and let the liquid cool his throat and settle his spirit. “He must have been a figment of my imagination.” Saying the words aloud helped to reassure himself, as did selecting the next piece of wood. Surely staying busy would keep the illusions at bay.
The thick plank of mahogany held its weight well, and Jack liked knowing that he would create a piece that would last for generations. Not that he’d have any subsequent generations to continue the Simon name.
“Hello?” The lyrical voice, undeniably female, provided a stark contrast to Jack’s present frustration. He relaxed his grip on the mahogany and turned toward the spot where the kid had been.
The woman from the woods—the exquisite lady from his dreams—gingerly stepped over a cluster of tree roots as she edged into the clearing.
What would he imagine next, twin girls with pale blond pigtails and eyes that sparkled when they laughed? Jack closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and embraced the reminder of reality. The scents of fresh sawdust, crisp pine and damp earth. Then, exhaling slowly, he listened to the haunting sounds of the slight wind pushing through the trees.
Several long moments passed.
He finally opened his eyes, expecting the hallucination to be gone.
Still there.
In case this wasn’t a delusion, Jack cleared his throat and repeated, “Hello.” His voice came out as coarse and grainy as he felt, and the woman’s widened eyes and hand to her heart showed her shock at his near-growl.
No doubt about it, this wasn’t a dream. She was as real as the heavy slab of wood in his hands.
He made another attempt. “Sorry. I’m...not...used to visitors.”
Her head moved in a subtle nod, but she stopped progressing toward him, which Jack understood. He hadn’t showered yet today and it had been weeks since he’d shaved. His hand drifted to his face, fingers scrubbing across a thick, wiry mass of beard.
When was the last time he’d actually looked in the mirror?
The golden afternoon sunlight sliced through the trees and shimmered against her pretty brown hair as she took a step forward. She wore a button-up sheer floral blouse over a peach T-shirt, extremely feminine, but also outdoorsy when paired with her dark blue jeans and hiking boots. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she peered toward his log cabin, then scanned the area to his right, and then his left, regarding him as more of an obstruction than an asset to her obvious search.
Jack suspected he knew what—or rather, who—she wanted to see.
Determined to make his voice less gruff, he cleared his throat. “You looking for a young boy?”
One arched brow shot up, eyes widening even more, and her jaw tensed. “Have you seen him? Is he okay?”
He thought about his old flannel shirt, the sleeves pushed up to the elbows and covered with sawdust. The equally worn jeans that were his favorite, because his kids had given them to him on the last Father’s Day he celebrated. And the work boots he’d bought when he decided to live the rest of his days in solitude, disappearing in what he’d thought to be uninhabited terrain, in North Alabama, of all places.
Maybe he was crazy. And maybe, considering his unkempt state of dress, he looked like an ax murderer.
At least he wasn’t holding a chain saw.
“I didn’t hurt him,” he said, which, judging from her reaction, may not have been the smartest thing to say.
* * *
Elise Ramsey didn’t know what she expected to find when she’d gone searching for Cody in the woods, beyond finding the boy, that is. But she certainly hadn’t expected to happen upon this big, burly guy in the middle of the forest. “You didn’t hurt him?”
What did that mean? And where was Cody now? She continued scanning the area around the log cabin but saw no sign of her patient.
“No, I didn’t.” He placed a huge plank of wood across two sawhorses and swiped a sleeve across his forehead. “He was here, and I tried to talk to him, but he didn’t respond.”
“He wouldn’t have. He can’t.” She closed her eyes and said a prayer for the boy. He’d disappeared yesterday at the same time, during the late-afternoon devotional, when the kids of Willow’s Haven all gathered at the fire pit to be reminded of God’s place in their lives and that they were all loved and wanted. Something many of them couldn’t say about their lives before.
“He can’t?” His head tilted, forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Can’t speak?”
Elise silently scolded herself for letting her rattled disposition interfere with her natural filter regarding her patient. But she hadn’t told this bearded stranger anything that she couldn’t share. Anyone who encountered Cody learned quickly enough that he’d stopped speaking. “He can,” she corrected, “but he doesn’t. Not anymore. Or at least not yet.” Hopefully she’d make progress with the child she’d already grown to care so much about, and he would find his voice again.
“He stopped talking?” The man pushed his sleeves up and then crossed his arms in a move that brought her attention to muscled forearms. Bulging biceps. And the extent of just how much larger he was than Cody. Or Elise. “What happened to him?” he asked.
Did he know? Was Cody still here?
A frisson of fear shimmied down her spine, but she held her ground. Cody was her responsibility, and she needed to verify that he was okay. This guy said he didn’t hurt Cody, but he certainly looked like he could hurt someone. Granted, she’d never spent any time in the woods before her current placement at Willow’s Haven, but even if she had, she wouldn’t have expected to run upon a man who looked like he’d been dropped out of the Wild West. Minus the horses. And the guns.
She hoped.
God, please, keep Cody safe.
“Where is he?” Elise hated that her voice trembled on the last word and said another quick prayer for courage.
The man unfolded his arms, moved a palm to his forehead and then pinched the bridge of his nose as though warding off a migraine. The action looked more like something she’d expect from someone sitting behind a desk than a rough-hewn fellow in the woods. Finally, he spoke, but his voice didn’t spark the fear it had before. “I don’t know where he is. I tried to talk to him and he ran off.”
“Where was he? Where did you see him, exactly?” She needed a clue on where to find Cody. Had he returned to Willow’s Haven, like before, or had he wandered deeper into the forest?
He pointed toward the woods. “There, same place he showed up yesterday. Disappeared right before you got here.”
That got her attention. “He came here yesterday?” She pulled her hands from her pockets and planted them on her hips. “You didn’t try to find out why an eleven-year-old was wandering the woods? Didn’t think you should call the police?” If he had, she would have known where Cody had been yesterday, or where he might go again. Like he’d done today. “You didn’t think someone would want to know that he was here? In the middle of nowhere?”
He took a deep breath, and her attention moved to the hard outline of his chest, easily visible in spite of his loose flannel shirt. The guy was built, but she didn’t notice in an oh-how-rugged kind of way. Rather, she noticed in a he’s-strong-and-could-hurt-someone kind of way.
The broad shoulders lifted and then fell. “I wasn’t sure he was real.” His words seemed to surprise himself as much as Elise, and she merely stood there, mouth agape, and wondered how to respond.
He wasn’t sure Cody was real?
“Unbelievable.” Clearly, trying to converse with this mountain of a man wasn’t helping her find her young patient, so she turned and started down the trail. He’d found his way back yesterday; maybe he’d done the same today. And if Mountain Man planned to hurt her, he could just start coming. He was big, but she was fast, and she’d give him a good run for his money through the woods. Besides, she didn’t have time to waste chatting. She had to find Cody before dark.
“Wait.”
The urgency in his deep voice caused her to stop and look over her shoulder at the man making his way across the area cleared for the cabin. Elise had been surprised to find the opening in the thickest section of trees earlier, but she wasn’t surprised that Cody had found it. The boy’s intelligence was astounding.
“Yeah?” She watched him as he neared. He wasn’t as massive as she’d originally thought. Muscled, yes. Bulky, no. He appeared ultrahealthy, though, like the CrossFit junkies that lived in her apartment complex in Birmingham. And in spite of the thick beard, his skin was smooth, with a tanned complexion that showcased eyes that were the most intriguing color she’d ever seen. Sea-foam green.
She tried to picture him without the beard.
“No need to be scared of me.” He focused on her as he spoke, and she watched his eyes soften, as though he somehow knew how much she’d been through and how very much she wanted to help the child who’d wandered away again. He took a deep breath, let it out and added, “I know I look rough, but...”
“I’m not...scared of you.” The words were true. A guy ends up being attractive and having sensitive eyes, and she gives him the green light to walk up and start talking. Her brothers would have a serious problem with her measuring stick for safe guys she encountered in the jungle. Woods. Whatever. But that’d always been Elise’s problem, the desire to help those who were socially off centered. It’d been the reason for her choice of profession, the fact that her father didn’t fit in the world. And then it’d been the reason for her marriage.
She blinked, the reminder serving its purpose. The last thing she needed was another guy who had social issues. And this man, who willingly set up house in the middle of nowhere, definitely fell into that category.
He cleared his throat, nodded his head toward her as though making a decision. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you find your son.”
For a moment, she thought he’d gone crazy. But then she remembered he had no way of knowing the truth and that she needed to get back on track and find Cody instead of talking to an unsavory mountain man. “He isn’t my son. He’s my patient.”
Her phone buzzed before he could respond, and she slid the cell out of her jeans to glance at the text message from Savvy Evans.
Cody just got back. Seems fine.
Relief washed through her. “He’s back,” she said. “At Willow’s Haven. Cody is okay.”
“Willow’s Haven?”
How could he live this close to the place and not know of its existence? “The children’s home, about a half mile west of here.”
“He’s your patient?” Confusion etched through his words.
“I’m a licensed social worker specializing in autism spectrum disorders, and I’m currently working at Willow’s Haven. I’m here specifically for Cody.” Saying it stabbed her heart, because this was the first case where she had made absolutely no progress after two weeks of intense therapy.
But Elise knew Cody was at the right place. Willow’s Haven would give him more personalized attention than any of the state-funded homes. “I’m beginning to wonder if I’m the right person for the job.” She hadn’t divulged that to Brodie, Savvy or even her colleagues at the Birmingham Clinic for Autism. Maybe the fact that she was in the middle of nowhere, and that she’d probably never see this guy again, gave her freedom to give voice to her fear.
“What’s wrong with him?” His voice had taken on a different tone than before, still as deep, but compassionate too.
“I can’t tell you anything patient-specific, but since he is at the children’s home, it’s common knowledge that he lost his family.”
“How?” The word came out thick and raspy. “How did he lose his family?”
She needed to get back to Willow’s Haven, but the concern in his masculine tone caused her to answer. “A car crash. Cody was the sole survivor.”
A shadow passed over his face, a look of sadness, or longing. Merely a flicker of emotion, but Elise saw it.
He turned his attention to the tree branches shifting overhead, and the thick cords of his neck pulsed as he swallowed. “He lost his family.”
Her background gave her a keen sense at reading people. This man had been hard to interpret at a distance, but now that he stood so close, she could tell from the tiny twitch beneath his eye that he worked hard to keep his emotions in check.
She suddenly wanted to know more about this mysterious stranger who lived in the woods. Glancing at his left hand, she saw no ring. And then she mentally stopped that train of thought. She lived in Birmingham and had a great practice there. This was a special case that would have her staying at Willow’s Haven for a time, and then she’d leave. Moving away from Cody. And away from the big, sensitive mountain man undeniably similar to the last guy who’d captured her heart. Then shattered it.
“I’m Jack.”
She’d been so absorbed in the painful memory that she had missed part of his conversation. But now that he’d offered his first name, she waited to see if he’d give her the last one too.
He didn’t.
Elise sighed. She needed to get back to the issue at hand, taking care of Cody, and not the fact that the last guy she’d given her heart to made her a widow at twenty-eight. “Well, Jack, if Cody comes this way again, can you make sure he gets back to Willow’s Haven?” She pointed to the right fork of the trail ahead of her. “Down that way.” It wasn’t a clear path, but it was manageable, obviously, since Cody found his way through the woods and to Jack’s cabin.
“There wasn’t an orphanage there when I bought my place.”
Elise was used to the misconception about the home. “Willow’s Haven isn’t an orphanage, even though some of the children have been orphaned. A children’s home differs in that it provides a safe sanctuary for children who are without a family, for any reason.”
And then she focused on what else he’d said. “Willow’s Haven has been open for a year now. When did you buy your place?”
“Nearly two years ago.” Another look passed over his face, and she read it clearly. Sadness. More specifically, grief.
What—or who—had this man lost?
“You’ve been living here for two years?” Why would anyone choose to live like this? “By yourself?” she added and then wished she’d kept that query silenced.
“No, I bought it two years ago, but I only recently moved in. I had to—” he paused “—take care of a few things first.”
And that made her wonder what things had taken two years to take care of. And what kind of job allowed him to live out here in the middle of nowhere, where only one cellular company managed to provide service, and even that was spotty at best. “But you’re planning to live here, long-term?”
He nodded and offered no additional information. “Do you want me to call you if I see the lad again?”
Normally she’d have thought of that from the get-go, but being this close to the guy rattled her senses. “That’d be great.” She didn’t have a card on her, hadn’t anticipated running into anyone when she headed into the woods after Cody. But she needn’t have worried about having a card.
He slid long fingers into his jeans pocket to withdraw his cell, then asked, “What’s your number?”
Alarms blared through her head, all initiated from years of warnings from her three older brothers, but even so, she recited her number and watched him key it into his phone. Probably the easiest set of digits the man had ever received.
She felt weird surrendering her contact information like that. But she didn’t give out her number to just any guy who asked. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d suggested they go out to dinner together. Or that he ever would.
“I’ll call you if I see him...” He let the word hang and then lifted the phone to show the empty contact field on the display. “But I still need your name.”
“Elise,” she said. “Elise Ramsey.”
He entered it into the appropriate box. “Got it.”
She took a step back and, bizarrely, found herself not quite ready to leave. But her patient was at Willow’s Haven, which meant she should get there too. “I’ve got to go see to Cody.” She walked away from the guy who’d taken her by complete surprise, both with his appearance in the forest and with the effect he had on her senses.
“I want to help him too.”
Elise tripped over a tree root, stumbled, but caught herself before falling completely, and then she pivoted to see the guy whose words had rocked her to the core.
He stood grounded to the spot, raising his brow as though waiting for her to tell him how he could help.
“That’s real nice of you.” She struggled to figure this man out. First he scared her to death, then he admitted that her patient had been to see him—twice. And now he asked to help said patient. “But I’m not sure what you could do.”
Oak leaves crunched beneath his feet as he took the few steps needed to lessen the gap between them. He stopped just shy of her three feet of personal space, which was good. The sky had darkened as late afternoon turned to early evening, and she still didn’t know a whole lot about the man. Except that he was big and rugged. Socially challenged. And even more attractive up close.
“He must be interested in my cabin, or in the furniture I’m building, or something. Maybe I can use that to break down his barrier and get him to talk.”
Elise homed in on the part he’d said that would potentially interest Cody. “I’d almost forgotten. His father was a carpenter. Is that your occupation too?”
“No. I worked in the film industry.” The slight shake of his head at the end of the sentence told Elise he wished he hadn’t told her that much. “You think he came around because he saw me building furniture?”
She decided to leave the film industry comment alone. She wasn’t here to get information about Jack; she needed to stay focused on her patient. “From what I’ve read about Cody’s history, his interests never aligned with his father’s occupation.” She would’ve left it at that, but he seemed to drink in every tidbit about the boy, so she explained, “Cody is an autistic savant.”
His head tilted. “Like Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man?”
Elise sighed. As much as that movie didn’t portray the vast scope of the savant syndrome, it did do much in alerting the general public to the specialized care needed by those individuals diagnosed with the disorder. “Cody is similar to that,” she said, “but his area of expertise is rather unique. Dustin Hoffman’s character specialized in math. Cody specializes in cars.”
“Cars?”
“Specifically the muscle cars of the sixties.”
Awareness coated his features, and the right corner of his mouth crooked up at the edge. “He’s had on a classic car shirt both times I’ve seen him.”
“And he’ll have another one on if you see him again. That’s all he’ll wear.” She heard a branch crack behind her and jerked around so fast that she lost her balance.
A large palm caught her left bicep and steadied her before she fell.
“You okay?” His face hovered near to hers. So close that she could see genuine concern in those uniquely colored green eyes.
Her personal space was officially invaded, big-time, resulting in her heart traipsing into a nice gallop. “I’m...fine.” She eased away from the warmth of his hand. “I should get back to Willow’s Haven, and to Cody.”
“I meant what I said, about helping him,” Jack stated firmly. “If his dad was a carpenter, then he can help me out with the furniture I’m building. Maybe that’ll let him cope with the loss somehow.”
Anything that would get Cody to ease out of his shell would be progress, but Elise doubted carpentry would do the trick, based on his prior caseworker’s files. “I’m not sure...”
“If that doesn’t work, I have another idea.” He gave her a moment to respond. When she didn’t, he added, “You should let me try. I know what he’s going through.”
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she withdrew it to see another text from Savvy.
Pretty sure Cody is looking for you.
She wanted to ask Jack what he meant. How did he know what Cody was going through? He’d assumed Willow’s Haven was an orphanage. Had he been orphaned too? Was that why he’d decided to remove himself from society, remain holed up in middle-of-nowhere, Alabama?
“Bring him back tomorrow. Let me help.” His words were almost delivered as a command, and Elise wondered what kind of position of authority this guy held in the past that he believed people would do his bidding simply because he stated it.
Even so, she wanted to help Cody. Needed to. And the boy did seem drawn to this guy. Then again, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t drawn to him too. There was something about him...
She cleared her head, thought about what was best for her patient. “It’d be better if Cody came back on his own, instead of me trying to force him to do anything.”
“Okay. But I think he will.”
Elise nodded. Cody had been here twice in two days. There was no reason to think he wouldn’t make an effort to return again tomorrow. “I do too.”
He gave her a slight smile, as though pleased she gave the right answer, and, again, she wondered what kind of power this man had held—or still held—in his world. Showing her his phone, he added, “I’ll call you when he does.” Then he indicated the path behind Elise. “You should probably go before the rain.”
“What rain?” she asked, as a loud boom of thunder in the distance made her jump, and then a heavy drop of water plopped on her nose.
“I’ve always sensed when storms are coming.” His voice rumbled almost as fiercely as the sounds echoing from the dark clouds overhead.
“Call me if you see him again.” More drops plopped on her head, and she became aware of the musty odor and heaviness permeating the air. Then she turned and darted down the trail but chanced one more look over her shoulder to see Jack, standing in the rain, watching her disappear into the woods as if he wanted to make sure she made it back safely.
Why did she have the impulse to turn around, run the opposite direction...and make sure he found his way home too?
Chapter Two (#ulink_6c3cda38-4500-5087-9843-2ac6b0a7e68a)
Jack sat on the front steps of his cabin and watched the how-to video on his laptop. Before yesterday, he’d have sat inside to view the next steps involved in building a seven-drawer dresser, but now that he knew the boy he’d encountered actually existed, he didn’t want to miss his reappearance. In fact, he had a difficult time paying attention to the video, because he couldn’t keep his gaze from wandering to that spot in the woods where Cody had appeared.
And then Elise.
Throughout the night and most of today, he’d found himself thinking as much about the woman as the boy. Or more. He’d been impressed with her willingness to approach him, a stranger, in order to find and protect her son.
No, not her son, her patient. That had surprised him, the way she’d shown so much motherly instinct toward a child for which she shared no blood bond. A beautiful thing, really. In another place and time, he would’ve taken that exquisite situation, the layers of emotions, peeled them away from the surface and studied them, then analyzed the best way to portray a woman who cared so deeply on the big screen.
Gritting his teeth at the way his mind always went there, he stopped thinking about the large screens of the past and instead turned his attention to the small screen in front of him, the one showing a master woodworker describing how to build the drawers. But Jack hadn’t finished the frame, and he’d glazed over during the applicable part, his thoughts on the grieving boy and intriguing woman instead of his current task.
He restarted the last section of the video and watched it again. The simple action of repeating the segment brought back a memory of JJ, standing outside Hollywood’s ArcLight Cinemas at the prescreening of The Journey.
Dad, what happens when someone has to leave to go to the bathroom or something? How do they know what they missed without talking during the show?
Jack had laughed that the boy, only six or seven at the time, already knew the rules of silence during those screenings. Then he’d explained that most often the audience could determine what they’d missed by the foreshadowing layered throughout the earlier frames, or by the dialogue or actions in the scenes that followed. Or they could simply buy another ticket and see the movie again. That last portion of Jack’s answer had been overheard by a reporter and included in reviews about the film. JJ had been thrilled to have had a part in the written reviews.
And Jack had looked forward to the day when he’d see his son following in his footsteps.
Ready to begin working and get his mind off the past, he shut the computer. He’d watched the portion on building the frame several times already and knew he wouldn’t make it much further than that today.
It wasn’t as if he was in a rush to build everything for the cabin, anyway. Jack had no idea what he’d do next, after making all of his own furniture. But he’d find some way to pass the time. Something to learn. Something to do. Some manner to push through the eternity of days God probably had planned for him. Days without his wife and children. Days to remember what he’d had, and what he’d lost.
For some reason, a vision of Elise, her mouth agape as she tried to understand why he hadn’t notified anyone about seeing Cody, flashed through his mind. He wondered if she had children of her own. She appeared to be about his age, thirty-two, or a little younger. Late twenties or early thirties. And very attractive. He’d thought about that several times since yesterday too. Her heart-shaped mouth, dark chocolate eyes, flushed cheeks. Those rose-tinted cheeks, however, were probably more a result of her shock at learning he’d seen Cody the day before and hadn’t called anyone.
There was something fascinating about a woman fiercely protecting her own.
He huffed out a breath. It didn’t feel right thinking of her as attractive, or fascinating, or anything else. He’d loved Laney and didn’t plan to care about anyone that way again. It hurt too much when God took her away. Even so, he couldn’t stop glancing at the end of the trail and wondering if Elise would return.
Standing, he moved to the piece of mahogany already positioned for sanding on his sawhorses and prepared to uncover the beauty that would form the top of the dresser. Surely that would keep his mind off things he shouldn’t be thinking.
He eyed the expensive piece of wood and wondered if he could do it justice. Typically, Jack didn’t attempt anything he couldn’t do well. Laney had often joked that she hadn’t found an aspect of life where he didn’t excel.
“You never saw me try to build furniture, did you?” he asked, though Laney certainly wasn’t around to hear.
Jack’s heart thudded in his chest. She’d have gotten a kick out of seeing him talk to himself, as well as watching him try to learn the mechanics of carpentry.
His father was a carpenter.
Elise’s words trickled through his thoughts, reminding him of the boy who’d also lost his entire family.
Jack couldn’t deny that he wanted to see Cody again. Nor could he deny that he wanted to see Elise again too. But he’d come here to get away from memories of the past, and a woman who cared so deeply, as well as a traumatized boy who desperately needed help, wouldn’t do anything to keep those memories at bay. However, Jack’s desire to reach out to a youngster struggling with the same grief that pierced his senses outweighed his instinct to protect his heart from more pain. He hadn’t lied to Elise; he wanted—needed—to help the kid. But helping Cody would be near impossible if the boy wouldn’t stick around long enough to interact with Jack.
He decided to replace thoughts of Elise and Cody with his concentration on the task at hand. Besides, the dresser would never get finished if he simply stood here looking at the woods all day watching for two people who might never return. He’d come here for peace, for solitude. He shouldn’t want visitors.
He shouldn’t.
Jack breathed in the distinctive scent of sawdust and turned his attention to the mahogany. Before coming here, he’d never thought about the process of building furniture, but since he started, he couldn’t help but notice the parallels of creating a functional piece from mere wood and the Creation. God had crafted something beautiful out of nothing.
Jack’s mind tripped over an idea, where a furniture builder spent hours upon hours generating a prized masterpiece, pouring his heart and soul into something that would stand the test of time, but the piece has no idea about its maker. The product of the creation has no appreciation for the love and care that went into its very existence.
Or does it?
As he gently sanded and slowly exposed the beauty of the wood grain, Jack honed the idea.
What would happen if, by the passing of the beloved piece of furniture from one generation to the next, a story unfolded about the love of that original creator displayed to each of his descendants, as long as the generations remembered him, appreciated him and made an effort to pass on his legacy? The depth of the love would only intensify and increase as generation after generation cared for its existence, protected it with their heart and soul.
How would audiences best relate to the scenario?
Jack played with thought after thought, idea after idea, until hours had passed. And then he realized he’d sanded the same spot for way too long, and the wood was no longer a piece of beauty. The marred blemish claimed all attention, extinguishing the perfection surrounding the scar.
Why were eyes always drawn to the flaw?
This would never be a piece to pass down to generations. He’d ruined it. Because he hadn’t been paying attention. Frustrated, he picked up the once expensive piece of wood, now worthless, and hurled it aside with gusto.
A movement to his right caught his attention, and he glanced up in time to see Cody retreating backward into the woods. How long had he been standing there while Jack lost himself in the plot? And in the pain of his past?
Jack had waited all day to see the boy, and now that he’d returned, he’d scared him away when he took his frustrations out on a piece of wood. “Cody?” Another urge to pray pushed forward, but he ignored it. “Why don’t you come here and see what I’m doing? I’m building—attempting to build—furniture. Working on a dresser.”
The boy wore a long-sleeved navy T-shirt with an old-fashioned red, white and blue Ford Mustang emblem on the front, jeans and tennis shoes, black with white soles and laces. His shoestrings weren’t tied, and Jack hoped he didn’t trip, but he also didn’t want to say anything about it. He wouldn’t do anything to threaten Cody’s slow, timid progression across the yard.
The boy scanned the area, particularly the sawhorses and tools, and then his attention moved to the discarded piece of wood. Veering to the left, he moved within a few feet of Jack in his quest to reach the mahogany. He was taller than Jack originally thought, thinner too, with long, lean fingers that cautiously reached toward the wood. He crouched beside the wide plank, then ran a palm reverently down its length.
Jack held his breath, waiting to see what the boy would do. Cody looked up, his eyes filled with pain, with a confusion Jack felt to his soul. Although he didn’t speak, no words were necessary. And another whisper of an idea flitted across his brain. What if an entire movie followed the chronicles of an autistic boy, a brilliant, grief-ravaged boy who refused to share his thoughts with a world that didn’t care.
But Jack cared.
And he felt the need to explain his actions to the distraught boy. “The wood is no longer any good. It’s my fault. I sanded it too much.”
Tears slid down Cody’s cheeks.
Jack wanted to show him how badly he felt for scaring him. He moved toward the boy...
And messed up again.
In an effort to keep Jack at bay, Cody fell backward, the white soles of his shoes flashing in the afternoon sunlight when he caught himself with his palms. Helpless to do anything but watch, Jack stood stone-still as Cody’s behind hit the ground and he scooted away like a trapped animal attempting to flee.
Jack knew better than to make any type of move toward the kid, so he remained where he stood and made his voice as calm as possible. “I won’t hurt you, Cody. I promise. I was just going to see if I could help.”
Dark eyebrows dipped as Cody shuffled away, the heels of his shoes pushing against loose leaves and dirt in his retreat. He shook his head, a dark wave of bangs shifting with the move, while his attention darted from Jack to the discarded mahogany and back again.
And then his confused expression landed on Jack’s thick beard.
Before Jack could say anything else, Cody scrambled to his feet and darted into the woods, disappearing down the path, while Jack ran a hand across the scruffy mess covering the lower half of his face.
* * *
Elise had made it about ten feet down the trail when she met Cody coming from the opposite direction. Conflicting emotions slammed her with his appearance. Happiness that he hadn’t stayed gone long and found his way back without problem, and disappointment that she hadn’t needed to go farther down the trail to find him, as in all the way to Jack’s cabin.
She had no doubt that Cody had been to his favorite spot, but unfortunately, his time away hadn’t produced a positive demeanor. His face was drawn and tense, eyes fixated beyond Elise as he brushed against her on the trail. “Cody?” She turned to follow him but stopped when her cell vibrated in her pocket.
Assuming she knew who was on the other end, she kept an eye on Cody as he headed toward his cabin and answered, “Hello?”
“He came back, but I scared him away.”
The frustration in Jack’s voice tugged at her heart. “What happened?”
A sharp intake of breath echoed through the line.
“Jack,” she said, “how did you scare him away? I need to know so I can help him.”
“At first, I thought it was the wood, but now I think it was the beard. Should’ve shaved it.” His words were delivered as if talking more to himself than to Elise.
Her eyes slid closed, and she gripped the phone, his behavior reminding her of so many conversations from the past, when she had to decipher what Anthony tried to say and fill in the missing pieces.
God, please, don’t let me get sucked into trying to fix another man.
But even as she thought the words of the prayer, she found herself empathizing with the guy who had tried to help Cody and had come out short. “You said something about wood?”
“A piece of mahogany. I bought it for the top of the dresser, but then I got to sanding it and had my mind on—” another pause “—other things.”
Her counselor’s instinct pushed at her to ask about the “other things,” but her experience with Anthony held those words in check. She didn’t need to get too involved in Jack’s world. Didn’t want to find herself close enough to get hurt. She cleared her throat and prepared to tell him that she needed to see Cody, but his heavy sigh of discouragement forced her to continue the conversation until he found some form of comfort from his efforts to help her patient.
“You were sanding wood when he got there?” She visualized Cody happening upon Jack involved in the task and knew that he undoubtedly equated the man with some semblance of the carpenter who had raised him and loved him. But she didn’t know why that would have upset Cody. “Did it seem to bother him?”
“I wasn’t sanding when he got here. I’d gotten—” he sighed again, apparently searching for the right word “—irritated at myself for sanding the same spot too long and ruining the wood, and I was tossing it when Cody came through the woods.”
Elise pictured the scene more clearly now. Cody had gone searching for Jack, but instead of finding the quiet, rugged carpenter he’d encountered the past two days, he’d happened upon an aggravated man who, from the sound of things, took his frustration out on a piece of mahogany.
As far as Elise knew, Cody hadn’t been exposed to any form of abuse in his past, so she didn’t think he’d been scared that Jack would hurt him. However, Jack’s action triggered something, enough of a response that Cody had returned to Willow’s Haven.
“Seeing me throw the wood bothered him, but I think it was the beard that caused him to leave.” And again, he spoke more to himself than Elise.
She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then said, “The beard hasn’t bothered him before. Why do you think it did today?”
“I don’t know, but I’m pretty good at reading people, or at least I was when I was working. And he was bothered by the beard.”
When he was working. Elise wondered what the man did in the film industry, and how the guy could move to a cabin in the middle of nowhere without any apparent form of income. She started to ask, but then heard the whispers of warning in the back of her mind.
Getting too personal will make you care too much.
You have a patient with enough problems to keep you more than busy while you’re here. Don’t take on a man with issues too.
Protect your heart.
“Elise.”
The way he said her name let her know he was fully involved in the conversation now, and she found herself anxious to hear more.
Protect your heart.
“Yes?”
“We can help him.”
We? She closed her eyes, prayed for God to keep her from getting hurt...too much. Because she knew in her soul that Jack could hurt her, the same way she’d been hurt before.
A door slammed, and she opened her eyes to view Cody exiting his cabin, a big, tan canvas tote draped over his shoulder. He walked directly to her car, opened the passenger door and got in.
“I’ve got to go,” she said. She heard his frustrated, “Goodbye, Elise,” echo through the line and almost explained why she had to finish the conversation, but memories of the last man in her life gave her the courage to click the end button.
Plus, Cody sat waiting in her car.
Knowing he wouldn’t use words to let her know what he wanted, she dashed to her cabin, grabbed her keys, her purse and the flash cards she used to communicate with him, and then hurried to the driver’s side of the car.
He reached for the cards as soon as she climbed in, but Elise shook her head. “First I need to remind you that you shouldn’t have left without letting someone know.” She thumbed through the cards. “If you want to go for a hike, you show me this card.” She held up the picture of a guy wearing a dark green shirt, jeans and hiking boots. Yesterday, she’d have said the guy in the photo looked rugged and outdoorsy. But then she’d met Jack. In his sawdust-coated flannel shirt, jeans and boots, he had rugged and outdoorsy mastered.
Cody tapped his fingers together at his chest, a signal of his anxiety, and Elise shook the image of Jack away and pointed to the hiking guy on the card. “So you show me this card the next time you want to go see—The next time you want to go for a walk in the woods. Understand?”
He bobbed his head and reached again for the cards. This time, Elise released the deck.
Cody, used to this routine, flipped through the stack so rapidly that the snapping cardboard sounded like popcorn within the confines of her Honda.
In spite of her uneasiness with the way her mind kept drifting back to Jack, she kept her voice low and controlled when she spoke. “Where do you want to go, Cody?”
In the two weeks since she’d arrived, she’d taken him to a few places, but never because he’d instigated the outing. This was new, and Elise felt a sense of accomplishment at the difference, even if initiated by his awkward interaction with Jack.
Cody stopped flicking the cards and then pushed the deck toward her nose, his face full of seriousness as he awaited her response.
“The library?” They’d gone to the Claremont Public Library two days ago, and he’d checked out fifteen books, the maximum allotment. Each of them had to do with classic automobiles, rebuilding engines and carburetors and such. As far as Elise could tell, he’d reread a couple of them several times but hadn’t made his way through the entire stack.
Unless he was reading them at night instead of sleeping.
She glanced at his eyes. No dark circles underneath, and his energy level hadn’t appeared to falter during the day. Surely his cabin counselor would’ve noticed if he were staying up all hours in his room.
Or would he?
Elise pointed to the bulging canvas bag Cody had dropped at his feet. “I’m guessing those are your library books, then? You’re wanting to exchange them for new books?”
Too impatient to find the yes card in the stack, Cody jerked his head up and down in a vigorous nod. Then he looked straight ahead, his legs bouncing and fingers drumming madly against his jeans.
Elise had become close to several of her patients in the past, but there was something about Cody that nudged at her heart. His case file indicated he’d had a wonderful family, a picture-perfect life. And it’d all been taken away in the blink of an eye. Maybe that was why she was so drawn to him, and why he reminded her of the one aching desire that had been pushed aside during her marriage, because her husband wasn’t emotionally ready.
She’d wanted children.
She still wanted children.
And Cody stirred that yearning more than any other child. She cared so much for him already, and she wanted him to have a chance to be a part of another wonderful family. He deserved that, and Elise wanted to make that happen by helping him overcome the barriers he’d set in place when his world had been upended.
She prayed this trip to the library would give her some insight as to what had bothered him at Jack’s place. “Okay, then, to the library it is.”
Twenty minutes later, Cody grabbed a plastic red book basket and handed a blue one to Elise. When she’d brought him here before, she’d selected the books that she knew would interest him based on his case file. But this time, Cody pulled her through the library and showcased his knowledge of computers and books, easily searching for his topic on the laptop at one of the information kiosks. He wasted no time writing the call numbers for the books he needed on the provided slips of scrap paper. Then he took off through the stacks at a speed that astounded Elise.
His autistic symptoms might most often be manifested in his knowledge of automobiles, as stated in his file, but the boy had skill in the library too. Each book had the same subject matter, with none of those selected having anything to do with classic cars.
One by one, as the librarian checked out all thirty books—since he put the maximum in each of their baskets—Elise smiled a little broader. Every book had to do with furniture. How to build furniture. How to select the best wood for building furniture. Tools needed for building furniture. Blueprints from craft masters to build one-of-a-kind pieces.
Everything to help him learn about what Jack did at his cabin.
By the time they returned to Willow’s Haven, the sun had started dropping, and Elise wondered if he’d head to Jack’s place to show him the books. “If you’re planning another hike through the woods, you need to tell me, okay?”
Cody nodded once, then climbed out, not an easy feat, since he insisted on carrying all of the books himself, even though they hadn’t fit into his tote. Thankfully, the librarian had provided him with a plastic bag to aid in the process.
To Elise’s dismay, he turned away from the path leading to Jack’s home and instead purposefully strode toward his cabin with the bags in tow.
“I guess you’re going to read until dinner?” She attempted to mask her disappointment. “That’s fine. But if you’d like for me to read some of the books to you, I’d be happy to.”
He never looked back. Simply entered the cabin, where, Elise knew, he’d proceed to his bedroom and crack open the first book.
Sighing, she walked to her cabin and decided to spend the rest of her time this evening journaling the day’s events in her ongoing file. She consulted with her colleagues daily on Cody’s progress, or lack thereof, and they’d seen his recent wanderings as a positive response. She thought so too, and she now knew that he undoubtedly planned to visit Jack again. Which was good for Cody.
For Elise’s heart, however, she wasn’t so sure.
Chapter Three (#ulink_2fa9f061-c4e5-54c9-bf09-044104a1ce0d)
Jack drizzled a generous portion of thick, golden honey across the bottom half of his biscuit, placed the lid back on and then enjoyed the sweet tastes melding on his tongue while watching the sun rise above the mountaintop. He began each morning at the cabin in this manner, sitting on the front porch and watching the yellow rays push through the tree branches and illuminate his property like long, golden fingers.
His mind drifted to yesterday, when Cody ran his fingers across the discarded wood with such reverence that Jack ached to know what transpired in the boy’s mind. Why had he been so upset about the ruined mahogany? Surely it hadn’t been the expense, because Jack suspected the boy had no idea about the cost. And the price didn’t matter to Jack. He could build an entire cabin out of mahogany if he chose to. Not that he would. In spite of the ample funds in his bank account, he’d never been prone to live in excess. He couldn’t justify living frivolously while so many barely scraped by.
But if it hadn’t been the expense, what had bothered Cody so much about the wood? Jack glanced over his shoulder at the rejected piece, propped on the porch, a short distance away from the door. He hadn’t had the heart to throw it in the burn pile, or even take it to the shed to use for a smaller piece of furniture. Because he hadn’t wanted Cody to find it missing when he returned.
If he returned.
Jack was surprised at how quickly he’d developed such an attachment toward the boy. He’d vowed to never have kids again, because of the pain he’d experienced when he lost them, and in moving to the middle of nowhere, he had thought he’d never even be around children again.
But this was different. Cody was different. Not because Jack had changed his mind about wanting children again, but because he had to help this boy who’d been through the same horrific loss that Jack had experienced.
Yet he feared Cody might never come back.
And if Cody didn’t return, neither would Elise.
Jack flinched, the awareness that he wanted to see a woman other than Laney stabbed a shard of guilt into his heart. He’d promised to love Laney forever, till death do us part.
Death had parted them, hadn’t it?
Jack pushed aside the thoughts of Elise and the attraction that brushed the surface of their interactions regarding Cody. Because as much as he wanted to help the child, he also wanted to see Elise.
But he didn’t want to want to see her.
He ran his palm across his slick chin. It’d felt rather nice to get rid of the heavy mass, almost liberating. But it also gave him the sense of being exposed, so that when he did encounter people, they’d see more, know more, about his pain.
However, as much as that prospect bothered him, the fact that his facial hair may have deterred the boy from feeling comfortable around him caused Jack to put his razor to good use. If Cody came back today, he’d make a better effort at gaining his trust.
He looked again to the broken area in his border of trees, the narrow path that’d brought his only two visitors since he’d arrived here. As he watched, the sun rose a little higher, showcasing the very spot where they’d appeared.
And then Jack saw him, ambling out of the path with awkwardness to his steps, as though he were off balance.
“Cody.” Careful not to jump up from where he sat on the porch, Jack maintained his composure and kept his voice steady. “Hey, I hoped you’d come back.”
His gait a little stilted and his pace slow and guarded, Cody eased toward the cabin as though he didn’t want to rush this encounter. Or as though preparing to bolt the way he did yesterday.
As he neared, he tilted his head, the way Jack had seen him do before, and a large chunk of dark brown hair fell across his right eye with the gesture. Today’s shirt was similar to yesterday’s, except it was forest green and had a photo of a ’67 Chevelle on the chest. And like before, he wore dark jeans and those black-and-white tennis shoes, laces untied.
He frowned and stared at Jack’s face, specifically his chin.
Jack ran his hand across the skin. “It’s still me, just no beard.” He thought Cody’s head moved a fraction in a slight nod. Maybe the boy would stick around a little longer this time. Then Jack’s attention shifted to the cream-colored tote hanging from Cody’s right arm and the green plastic bag on the other. They sagged from heavy contents, and Cody clasped his hands together to brace his arms from the weight.
“What have you got there?” Jack pointed to the bulging bags.
But Cody wasn’t paying attention to his baggage. Instead, he focused on Jack’s plate of biscuits.
“Cody?” Elise called his name breathlessly as she emerged from the trail. Jack and the boy both turned toward the woman holding a hand to her chest as she moved toward them. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair, unlike the last time he’d seen her, wasn’t captured in a ponytail but fell in long, dark waves around her shoulders, the way it’d been when he saw her crying in the woods. Jack made a mental note to eventually learn what made her cry that day, but now wasn’t the time. Judging from her appearance, she’d started the morning by learning her patient had, once again, gone AWOL.
She looked as though she’d yanked on the first clothes she could find, which happened to be an oversize white T-shirt with a disgruntled bulldog in the center and the caption Got Coffee? at the top, jeans that had a rip above the left knee and hiking boots.
Jack thought the sunrise would be the prettiest thing he’d see this morning. He’d been wrong. There was something about a woman early in the day, before she looked so put together and when she had that vulnerable, just-woke-up appeal, that grabbed his heart and held it captive.
The way Elise held it captive now.
It’d been a long time, two years, since he’d seen a woman like this, her cheeks glowing from embarrassment that he’d caught her unprepared for the day. His first thought was that he’d like to share a cup of coffee with a woman like that. His second thought was that he didn’t want to give his heart to a woman again. And his third thought...
She looked at him as though she had no idea who he was.
“Elise?” He’d been so long without regular human interaction that his voice still sounded odd to his own ears. Rough and raspy. Still, he liked the way it felt when he said her name.
Her chin dropped, one eyebrow lifted and she whispered, “Jack?”
He’d thought she couldn’t look cuter than she had disheveled and emerging from the woods at barely past seven in the morning. But he’d thought wrong. Her confused expression added another layer of vulnerability. She’d look incredible on film.
Jack pushed the reminder of his previous life away and focused instead on the woman before him. “Yeah, it’s me,” he said, managing a smile for his guests.
“Wow.”
He could tell by the way her cheeks flushed even more that she hadn’t meant to release the whispered word and, truthfully, he experienced a little embarrassment—or something—of his own, because it didn’t appear to be a term of surprise that he’d shaved, but a whisper of appreciation. And it ebbed through him much like those sun rays eased through the trees, warming him, reminding him of the way it felt to be seen as a man by a beautiful woman.
Cody pointed to the plate and broke the charged tension that’d caught Jack by surprise.
Jack cleared his throat and did his best not to stare at the woman now walking toward his porch. Instead, he focused on the boy, standing very near now, and still pointing at the plate filled with biscuits.
“You want some?” he asked.
Another slight nod, and then Cody dropped the heavy bags to the ground and sat on the middle step.
“Cody’s cabin counselor called me when he didn’t show up at the dining cabin for breakfast. He left with the group but must have taken a detour on the way. I figured he might have come here.” Elise pushed a heavy wave of hair away from her face as she spoke. “Cody, I asked you to tell an adult when you want to leave Willow’s Haven. Remember?”
Cody nodded and frowned.
“Okay. Let’s make sure to do that next time. Understand?”
Another nod, and then Cody returned his attention to the plate of biscuits and pointed again.
Elise laughed softly. “I’m sure he’s hungry, if you have enough.”
“I’ve got plenty.” Jack was glad he’d fixed the large can of biscuits. “Hang on, I’ll get some more from inside.” Then he wondered whether they’d also want to eat on the porch, the way he’d done since he moved in. “Or would y’all rather come in to eat? I don’t have a kitchen table yet. I haven’t gotten that far in my furniture building. But we could eat...” He didn’t exactly know where they’d eat. There wasn’t much in the cabin yet beyond a desk, a few chairs and a mattress.
“Out here is fine.” Elise still stared at his face. “I—You look so different.”
And that was all it took for that raw, exposed feeling to take over and for him to wonder how much she saw. He could tell by the expression on her face—and by the one-word exclamation earlier—that she didn’t mind the way he looked. But could she see more than mere appearance? Like how he felt empty without the family that completed him? Or how he blamed God for taking everything he loved away, so much that he refused to make another film to glorify a Creator who hadn’t cared?
Instead of responding, he stood and started inside. “I’ll get more.” Then he stopped at the door. “I have coffee, if you want some. And milk for you, Cody, if you like.”
“Coffee is fine,” she said. “I don’t need anything in it, though. And Cody loves milk.”
Thankful that he at least had some dishes, and also grateful for the supply of groceries he’d gathered from Stockville last week, Jack left them on the porch to gather the breakfast items. He’d bought an abundance of food because he didn’t plan to go into town more than a couple times per month. And he’d chosen Stockville, a city a little farther away, for his shopping to limit his exposure and noticeability to the folks who’d most likely show up for a visit.
Little did he know Cody would find him by merely walking through the woods.
Jack didn’t need to get wrapped up in the desires of a boy JJ’s age, didn’t need to have visitors or feed them when they showed up at his door. But Cody wasn’t just “some boy.” He’d been through more than any other kid Jack had known, losing his parents, his entire family. The same way Jack lost his. How could he not try to help the child?
He poured the coffee and milk and brought them out to find Elise standing so close to the entrance that he nearly hit her with the door.
She took a step back, but not far enough that he didn’t catch her citrusy scent. And he found himself enjoying it much more than the yeasty smell of the biscuits and crisp aroma of coffee that filled the kitchen.
“I thought you might need help carrying things out, but I didn’t want to come in without asking.” She looked at him shyly and, though she didn’t have on an ounce of makeup, her dark eyes couldn’t have been prettier amid that sea of brown lashes.
Jack didn’t like the way that he noticed her eyes, or the way she smelled, or anything else. He’d never wanted to notice another woman that way, never wanted any other woman but his wife. And he didn’t want to betray Laney’s memory. But Elise was clearly here for Cody, not Jack, and in order to help the boy, he’d undoubtedly spend time with the woman who had the same goal. Helping the child. Nothing more, nothing less.
She inched away from him. “I don’t have to help if you’d rather I not go in.”
Jack had never been rude, and he wouldn’t start now. He eased the door open wider. “No, that’d be great. The biscuits are on the stove.” Then he felt the need to apologize. “And ignore the fact that there isn’t much in there yet. Like I said, I’m still working on the furniture.”
She gave him a soft smile and stepped inside while he placed her coffee mug on the top step near his own and then handed Cody the glass of milk.
Cody took a big sip, keeping his mouth firmly against the cup while he gulped several swallows, and then placed the cup beside him on the middle step. He had a milk mustache that Jack might have mentioned, but he didn’t want to do anything that would cause the boy to be embarrassed. Or to leave. And he realized that he’d been preparing for this moment, waiting for it, since Cody left yesterday. Not only the chance to try to help the boy, but also the chance to spend time with the pretty therapist exiting his cabin with the remainder of the biscuits.
How he ached for a woman’s touch, not merely her physical touch, but for her touch in his home. Just a quick glance around his Spartan surroundings revealed the absence—the need—of a feminine presence. But he couldn’t think about that now. He had a mission. To help a little boy.
And if that meant spending time with this attractive lady, he would.
“You’d already buttered them, right?” she asked, and Jack pushed those wayward thoughts aside.
He nodded. “Yeah, and I hope y’all like butter. I’m kind of partial to it.”
“I can see that.” The right corner of her mouth lifted as she moved to the top step and then pulled the lower plate out from under the one that held the remaining six biscuits. Jack had taken two earlier and still had one on his plate. “I love butter, and I’m pretty sure Cody does too.”
She put three of the biscuits on a plate and handed them to Cody. “That about right for you, Cody?”
He didn’t answer but stared at the biscuits, and she must have taken that as a yes, because she then turned to Jack. “You want another one, or two?”
“One,” he said, finding it oddly comforting to sit beside her on the porch and have her serve him a biscuit, as if this were something natural. And as if he hadn’t been eating all of his meals alone for as long as he could remember.
Cody hadn’t touched his biscuits but instead looked to Elise as though waiting for something. Jack watched as she gave the boy a little smile.
“Would you like to say grace for us?” she asked Jack.
His skin prickled, and he had the sudden recollection of AmyJo and Sadie singing their prayer at the kitchen table. “You can.” He couldn’t control the gruffness of his tone induced by the bittersweet memory.
Her mouth slid to the side, eyebrows dipped in concern, but then she bowed her head. “Dear God, thank You for letting me find Cody this morning, and thank You for Jack’s willingness to share his meal. Bless this food, Lord, and bless our day. In Your Son’s name, amen.”
Apparently, the word amen held the same connotation as ready-set-go for Cody, because he scooped up a biscuit the moment she finished and nearly ate half of it in one bite. His mouth worked vigorously as he chewed, and he grabbed his glass of milk and gulped more to get it down.
“Hey now, slugger—” Jack patted Cody’s knee “—slow down, or you’ll get choked.”
Elise nibbled on her biscuit but laughed as she chewed. “He’s right, Cody. Take your time.” She spotted the jar Jack had tucked behind the porch post. “Is that honey?”
Jack had already coated his first two biscuits, but he should’ve thought to offer some to his guests. He reached for the jar. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’m...not used to having company.”
She took the honey, waited a beat, then asked, “And you weren’t really planning on having anyone here at all, were you?” The question begged for an answer that elaborated on his reasons for setting up his home in the middle of nowhere, escaping civilization and everything it entailed, all of the pain it instilled, but Jack wasn’t ready to explain. Didn’t know if he’d ever be ready. He’d already told her more than he’d planned.
So he simply said, “No, I wasn’t,” and when he saw Cody frown, he added, “But it’s okay.”
The boy didn’t smile, but the frown lifted into the flat line that he often displayed when he appeared to tighten every muscle in his face in an effort to control...something. Maybe that kept him from speaking when he wasn’t ready to talk yet. Or maybe that was the way he hid his own emotions. Rather than build a cabin in the woods, he built a fortress around his words and protected them with a vengeance.
Suddenly, Cody pointed toward the jar Elise now held in her hand.
“You want some too, Cody?” she asked with a smile. When he held his plate toward her, she lifted the top off one of his remaining biscuits and poured the honey in the center. “See what you think.”
The boy took a big bite and hummed so deeply it sounded like a growl.
Elise’s eyes lit up. “That good, huh?” She drizzled the honey on her two biscuits and grinned when Cody held his plate toward her for more. She obliged him by covering the other biscuit with honey and then told Jack, “I hope you have more inside, because we’re making a huge dent in your stash.”
“I bought a few jars when I went to the store last week, so I’m good.” He’d thought it would last him a while, but if he had more morning visits from Elise and Cody, that might not be the case, because Cody was again motioning for more of the sweet substance, and still humming.
“It’s delicious.” She took another bite. “Is it local?”
“Yeah, I bought it in Stockville. The woman at the grocery had it for sale near the counter and said she gets it from a beekeeper that lives nearby.” He ate more of his biscuit and tried to recall the last time he’d had casual conversation while sharing a meal. He couldn’t. And the realization not only made him grateful for this time, but sorrowful that he’d been without anything like it for so long.
He truly missed his family.
“That’ll keep you from getting sick, you know.” She grinned as Cody ran a finger through some of the honey that had escaped his biscuits and pooled on his plate. He popped it in his mouth and hummed even louder.
“Honey will keep me from getting sick?” Jack took another bite.
She nodded as she sipped her coffee. “That’s what my grandmother always said. She put a spoonful in her coffee each morning to help with colds and allergies.” She shrugged, took another bite of biscuit. “I have no idea whether it actually works, or if it’s an old wives’ tale, but that’s the story. Something about taking in the local pollen to build up your immunity.”
Jack had never heard anything like that, but he knew that people from the South had their own way of looking at things, their old-fashioned remedies that often proved to be true. He’d stayed in a small town near Birmingham a few years ago when filming Jacob’s Dream and had fallen in love with the easy lifestyle, the moderate climate and the charm and grace of Southerners in general. It’d been part of the reason he’d looked for something in this location when he’d decided to retreat from the world, the beauty of the place, rather than the people. He hadn’t planned on getting all that close to the community.
But here he was, undeniably getting close to these two.
Cody held up his palms, and Jack saw that, while all of his biscuits and the entire glass of milk were gone, his hands were shiny from honey, particularly his fingers, since he’d slid them all over the plate in an effort to eat every drop.
“Hang on,” Jack said. “I’ll get something to clean that up.”
He went inside, got a dishcloth and wet it with warm water, then returned to the porch. “Wipe them with this.” He handed the cloth over and watched as Cody meticulously worked it over his palms and then in around each finger. After he finished, he handed it to Elise, who did the same and then passed it to Jack, who followed suit.
Once her hands were clean, Elise gathered the plates while Jack scooped up the cups and honey, and then they started inside while Cody moved toward the bags he’d dropped earlier.
She paused at the door. “We’ll be right back, Cody. Don’t leave me again, okay?”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/renee-andrews/second-chance-father/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.