by Arlene James
She had a son to care for and a home to provide and…flowers to arrange. She would manage. Somehow, she would manage.
Gingerly easing the long, narrow box of flowers from the back of the rented van, Jessa balanced its saggy middle on one knee. Adjusting her hold, she turned toward the side door of the sanctuary at Downtown Bible Church. The heavy door opened and Magnolia Chatam stepped through it, holding it wide.
“May I be of assistance?”
Sighing inwardly, Jessa managed as much of a smile as she was able. She had avoided Magnolia and her sisters at Chatam House earlier when delivering the flowers for the reception, not that she blamed them for alerting Wayne to her location. They had meant no harm and only wanted to help. Besides, it was bound to have happened sooner or later. No, Wayne was not the issue.
In fact, after speaking at length with the local police department, Jessa had decided that she and Hunter were going to stay in Buffalo Creek and trust the police to enforce the protection order against Wayne. After cooling his heels in jail for forty-eight hours before being allowed to post bail, surely he had realized that he had no choice except to stay away.
She wouldn’t think about Garrett. She couldn’t. Not yet. Which was why she had done her best to avoid the Chatams. She couldn’t bear to think that all her worst fears had come true, that he had lied to her, or at the very least omitted vital information. She couldn’t bear to know how foolish she’d been. She had dared to believe, if ever so slightly, in happily ever after, and she couldn’t face the fact that it was not to be hers. Because he had gone to prison, served time in prison. For violence. For beating a man nearly to death.
But that was on Garrett, not the Chatams.
Steeling herself, she nodded at Magnolia. “Thanks. I don’t want to leave anything in the van too long in this heat.”
The weather had turned quite warm lately, as if her learning the truth about Garrett had sucked all the mildness and comfort out of the atmosphere. Jessa turned off that thought and carried the box through the door, leaving Magnolia to go to the van. For several minutes, they passed each other coming and going as they carried the floral decorations into the cool sanctuary. When all the flowers were inside the building, Jessa began to arrange them as needed.
She started with the pew bows then placed arrangements at strategic locations before turning her attention to the most important job. A white latticed arch had been erected in front of the altar and a small white pedestal stood to one side, topped by a large, intricately carved unity candle and two tapers, one a pale lilac color and the other a delicate gray. A long, white satin runner waited to be unrolled up the center aisle. Jessa placed arrangements at the feet of the arch then began weaving long chains of spring flowers through the lattice with the aid of a small stepladder that Magnolia had produced and now held for her.
Jessa worked in silence, concentrating on the job at hand, so that she wouldn’t bruise or dislodge any of the blooms. The sudden sound of Magnolia’s voice jolted her.
“He was trying to protect her, you know.”
Jessa didn’t have to ask who he was, but she automatically asked, “Her?”
“His mother. Shirley.”
Jessa knew, of course, that Garrett’s mother had been a victim of spousal abuse and that she was now deceased. Beyond that she knew nothing else. “What about her?”
“Her husband, Doyle, Garrett’s stepfather, beat her mercilessly. It had been going on a long while, but that time, he put her in the hospital. Garrett only wanted to stop him from doing it again.”
Jessa shuddered, recalling the bits and pieces that she’d heard. “They say Garrett used a baseball bat.” Her stomach turned over at the thought.
“Yes. The same bat Doyle had used to break Shirley’s ribs, wrist and jaw.”
Jessa gulped and closed her eyes. That did change things. A little. Still…
“Garrett was young, barely twenty-one,” Magnolia went on, “and understandably angry. He didn’t know what else to do. He was afraid that Doyle would kill her. And Doyle did. While Garrett was in prison.”
Jessa gasped and looked down at Magnolia. “His stepfather murdered his mother?”
“With his bare hands.”
Jessa squeezed her eyes closed. That poor woman. Poor Garrett. She shook her head, pointing out, “Then it was all pointless, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Magnolia agreed, “and Garrett realized it. That’s why, when Shirley refused to press charges against Doyle and went back to him, Garrett pled guilty to felony assault charges and let himself be sent to prison. He thought it was better to be locked away than to stand by helplessly and watch his mother suffer. He didn’t feel he could trust himself if—when—Doyle beat her again.”
Jessa paused, shaken by the thought of the despair that Garrett must have felt when his mother willingly returned to her abuser. But that didn’t change one important fact. “He should have told me.”
“Yes, he should have,” Magnolia agreed, nodding, “and he intended to.”
Jessa shook her head, tears gathering in her eyes. He could have told her that day when he’d first explained his mother’s situation.
“He told me that he’d tried to tell you and couldn’t do it,” Magnolia went on.
Suddenly, Jessa remembered that day in the rose arbor, when he’d seemed to have something on his mind.
“I imagine he was afraid you’d reject him,” Magnolia said.
What if he had told her that day? Jessa asked herself, but she already knew the answer. If he’d told her about going to prison that day, even why, then they wouldn’t be here now. She’d have run from him and Chatam House as quickly as she could. She’d never have opened the shop. Wayne would never have found her and Hunter, and they would be…where? She couldn’t even imagine.
“Then,” Magnolia was saying, “after you agreed to share the property with him, everything happened so quickly. You were both so terribly busy…I don’t think he had a chance.”
Pulling in a deep breath, Jessa tried to clear her head, muttering, “I have work to do.” She finished the weave and backed down off the stepladder, her mind whirling with information and recriminations.
“Garrett paid for his mistake,” Magnolia told her insistently, “and paid dearly. If I’d known about the plea bargain in time, I wouldn’t have allowed it, frankly. But Garrett was too ashamed to tell me. He had never let on what was happening in his mother’s house. And he was right about Doyle Benjamin. He knew that he could do nothing to prevent Doyle from beating Shirley again, so he got as far away from the situation as he could. Nearly three years later, when they found Shirley, she was so severely beaten that she was unrecognizable.”
Jessa caught her breath against a sob, asking shakily, “What happened to Doyle?”
“He was convicted of first-degree murder. Garrett testified at his trial. He said on the stand that he had failed to protect his mother. I think, ultimately, that’s why he pled guilty to the charges that Doyle filed against him, not because Doyle didn’t deserve the beating that Garrett gave him—which was much less severe than you may think, certainly less severe than what Doyle did to Shirley—but because ultimately it did nothing to protect his mother. You see, that’s the difference between Doyle and Garrett. Doyle was an abuser. Garrett is a protector. Now he could go back to prison for trying to protect you and Hunter.”
He had tried to protect them, and he hadn’t thrown the first punch. Realizing that she had much to think about, Jessa bowed her head. Oh, Lord, help me judge rightly, she prayed. I don’t know what to think or what to do. Please don’t let me do the wrong thing just because my heart tells me it’s right!
Lifting her chin, she said to Magnolia, “I need to get back to the shop.”
“Of course,” Magnolia conceded. “Just please remember t
hat he loves you.”
He loves you. The words echoed in Jessa’s heart. She shuddered at the sweet pain of them.
Magnolia sighed and turned to look around the room. “It’s lovely, just as the ballroom at the house is lovely. You’ve done an exceptional job. I trust we’ll see you at the wedding later.”
“Oh,” Jessa hedged, “I—I don’t know.”
“But you must,” Magnolia urged, “you and Hunter both. Otherwise, Ellie and the rest of us will be so very disappointed.”
Jessa wanted to ask if Garrett would be there, if he had been released from jail, but she couldn’t bear to think of him sitting alone in a jail cell instead of attending the wedding with the rest of them and she didn’t trust herself to speak of him any longer.
“We’ll try,” she finally said, wondering if she had time to buy a dress.
“I’ll send someone for you, shall I?” Magnolia pressed. “I’m sure my nephew Morgan wouldn’t mind giving you and Hunter a ride.”
Jessa gave in. “Yes. All right. Thank you.”
“Excellent. I’ll have him at Willow Tree Place about a quarter to six this evening.”
Nodding, Jessa dusted off her hands and left Magnolia standing there in the sanctuary, staring at the cross on the altar.
Drying his sweaty palms on the jacket of the tuxedo that Magnolia had insisted on purchasing for him, Garrett paced the foyer of the church. He couldn’t believe that Asher had managed to get him released in time for the wedding. It wouldn’t last, of course. Garrett knew very well that he was almost surely headed back to prison, but at least he had this one final opportunity.
He’d thought about this for hours on end, seeing with his mind’s eye Wayne Harman’s handsome face and glittering smile. Worse, he remembered how his mother had declared, “Never again!” then gone right back for more. Instinct told him that Jessa would not be so foolish, but fear insisted that anything was possible. Had he made Harman seem pathetic and contrite, as he had Doyle? If so, Jessa could decide to give the marriage another try. Thankfully, Garrett had one more opportunity to save someone he loved, and he couldn’t blow it.
He’d thought of phoning her, but she could always hang up, and she might tear up a letter without reading it. No, this had to be done in person. He would accept her rejection and scorn if she would just listen, and he would forever be grateful to Asher for making this one last chance possible. What other attorney would bother showing up in court on the very day of his wedding, let alone insist that the hearing take place?
Garrett prayed—again—that Jessa would actually attend the wedding as Magnolia believed and that she would hear him out. When the heavy door opened a few moments later and she preceded Hunter and Morgan Chatam into the soaring foyer, Garrett thanked God, his voice echoing around the immediate space before he’d realized that he’d spoken aloud. Jessa checked her steps, her gaze falling on him then instantly sweeping away.
She looked lovely in a simple marigold yellow dress with fluttering sleeves and a matching ribbon tied at her slender waist. He felt a spurt of pleasure because she’d finally worn something that did her justice. Her long hair had been rolled into a heavy chignon at the nape of her neck, leaving lacy layers to frame her lovely face. Garrett’s heart burst with love. And fear.
Morgan ushered Hunter away as Garrett hurried to intercept Jessa. He smiled at the boy but didn’t try to approach him, fearing that his mother would be displeased. She drew up but averted her gaze from his.
“I won’t keep you,” he told her quietly, “and I won’t apologize because I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just have one thing to say. Please don’t go back to him.”
Her gaze slashed upward. “What?”
“I beg you,” Garrett said urgently. “He’s charming, and he’s handsome. And he’s dangerous. Please don’t be fooled.”
“You think I might go back to Wayne?” she asked, tilting her head.
“I can see how persuasive he might be, and I know you’re disappointed in me,” Garrett told her. “I don’t blame you for that, but please don’t put yourself in danger again just because I’ve disillusioned you. Chances are I’m on my way back to prison, and I can live with that. But I can’t live with the idea of losing someone else I love to an abuser. Promise me you won’t go back to him.”
“I promise,” she said softly. “It’s the very last thing I would do. In fact, I’ve filed another protective order against him here.”
Relief swamped Garrett. He let out a breath that he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. “Thank you,” he said, backing away. “That’s good. Thank you for telling me. I—I just want you to be safe, you know. I would do anything to—” Breaking off before he embarrassed himself by going down on his knees and begging her forgiveness, he turned and swiftly strode away.
He could face whatever came now. So long as he had not destroyed her faith in her own judgment and left her at the mercy of a master manipulator, he could manage anything. The total destruction of his dreams, the complete pulverization of his heart meant nothing compared to her well-being. He would pay that price and more, so long as she and Hunter were safe.
Now he could turn his mind to other things, like what to do about Willow Tree Nursery. Billy, God bless him, had kept things going. Garrett had briefly broached the idea of leaving Billy in possession of the place with Magnolia, but she had balked, saying that was not necessary. Garrett only knew that he didn’t want to leave Billy without an income or Jessa without a partner. It was a quandary that he would lay before Asher, as soon as that good man returned from his honeymoon—and not before. He could stay out of jail that long, at least. Asher had seen to it.
Walking into the sanctuary, Garrett hurried to take his place beside Magnolia. As the stringed quartet played sweet, lilting music, he looked to the altar beyond the flowered arch, and his gaze fell on the gilded cross that stood there. For the first time, really, he had an inkling of the depth of love that had driven Christ to the cross.
He was no martyr himself, no savior. Everything he’d done had backfired in the most horrific of ways.
But let it backfire on me alone, Lord, he prayed. Never on those I love. Bethany and Mags, little Matthew, Hunter and Jessa, they deserve only joy. I’ll take everything I deserve and more, if You’ll only spare them.
Music wafted in lovely dips and swells as Jessa slowly sank down onto the pew beside her son. She had reclaimed him from Morgan, who had patiently and politely waited for her just inside the sanctuary door. A shake of her head had sent him down to the family pew while she and Hunter took a place near the back of the great room. She nodded to the usher who had escorted her, and he turned to retrace his steps. Hunter snuggled up next to her, looking handsome in his new suit. He’d had a haircut, and the shorter style made him look so grown-up. Or was it the solemn expression on his face?
He grieved for Garrett, she knew, her gaze wandering of its own accord to the back of Garrett’s dark head. She’d seen the hurt in his eyes when she’d explained that she didn’t know when or if they’d see Garrett again. She saw the way he yearned to be there with Garrett and the Chatams now. She fought that urge herself, fearing greater pain in the long run if she went to Garrett now. He had said himself that he would likely return to prison. She couldn’t subject her son to that. And yet…
I can’t live with the idea of losing someone else I love to an abuser.
Someone I love.
She closed her eyes against the bittersweet memory of that, all the more poignant because he hadn’t seemed to realize what he’d said. She mentally scolded herself for coming to the wedding in the first place. Romance filled the very air that she breathed. And cut her heart to ribbons. It was all she could do to sit there and take it. Yet, she hadn’t been able to stay away.
Relieved when the ceremony began, Jessa tried to c
oncentrate on what was taking place around her. The music stopped, and the ushers unfurled the aisle cloth by holding onto a cord attached to a small dowel inserted into the end of the roll of fabric as they walked up the aisle from front to back. The music began again, a new piece that Jessa didn’t recognize. Little Gilli Leland fairly skipped along the aisle cloth a moment later, looking adorable in her fluttery pale lilac gown, a crown of spring flowers in her curly hair. She strewed silk rose petals as she went, flicking them from a tiny white basket. As soon as she reached the altar, she ran to join her parents in their pew.
Asher’s sisters came next, first a blonde, Petra, whom Jessa knew only by name, followed by Dallas. Oddly, the pale lilac gown complemented Dallas’s carroty-red hair. Both young women were slender and striking, perfect foils for the groomsmen, Asher’s tall, lean brother, Phillip, and cousin, Chandler, either of whom could have graced the covers of fashion magazines, in black and pale gray. Asher himself, with his graying chestnut hair, looked dashing and dignified in his severe tuxedo with a silver-on-gray brocade vest and gray silk tie.
Ellie, as predicted, took everyone’s breath away, Asher’s especially. He seemed to be restraining himself from charging up the aisle to claim her. The gown showed off Ellie’s voluptuous figure in the most elegant fashion imaginable. The delicate gray embroidery of the diaphanous veil perfectly complemented the unusual slate-gray color of her full, curly hair. She looked like a movie star in an old film.
Kent wept openly, dabbing his face with a folded handkerchief, as he escorted his granddaughter down the aisle. He’d chosen a lilac bowtie and matching vest to accent his tuxedo. Odelia, decked head-to-toe in pale pink, from the bow in her hair to the bows on her feet, waved her own hankie at him as they passed by, her dangling pink crystal earrings shimmering in the candlelight. She clapped a hand to the big bow on her chest when, in response to the pastor’s question concerning who gave this woman’s hand in marriage, Kent answered, “Her future grandmother and I.”