The Hero's Sweetheart

by Cheryl Wyatt

  Concern coursed through Olivia. “No. I can’t and won’t promise that. Please tell me you’re not still with him.”

  Patrice sighed and grabbed a stack of menus to distribute to tables. “I don’t have time for this.”

  Naem came over to grab his order pad. “Why the sour look?”

  Olivia shook her head. “I’m worried about Patrice for one thing. For another, Jack doesn’t trust me.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  Olivia really didn’t want to get into it. “I just know.”

  “Hey, I know the guy’s been rough on us, but he’s actually pretty decent. He filled my tank up with gas and also left a gas card filled with money. For running diner errands he said, but I only drove, like, two miles.”

  “Does he know that?”

  “Yeah. When I asked him about it, he told me he heard I drive my sister to all her doctor appointments and take her kids to school events and to their games and stuff, since she can’t drive after her surgery. He heard about her cancer and how I help watch the kids for her after her chemo treatments.”

  “He’s probably just doing that so you won’t miss work here. I can’t imagine Jack Sullenberger doing anything unless it benefits him,” Olivia said, then wished the words back when Naem’s eyes widened. His gaze settled behind her, over her right shoulder.

  Heat of a presence bored into Olivia’s back.

  The hair on Olivia’s neck stood on end. She read the answer in Naem’s eyes.

  Jack was standing right behind her.

  Well, she may have just gotten herself fired, after all.

  Her hands shook as she tied her apron on and tucked her order pad and pen into the pocket. Not turning around, she slid on noodle legs past Naem and out of Jack’s presence, but she could still feel the weight of his stare on her back. She didn’t turn around because she was scared of what she’d see.

  She really needed to watch what she said.

  She went to the door to turn the Closed sign to Open. Before she could, a hand covered hers.

  “Wait.”

  Jack.

  Olivia could barely breathe. He didn’t seem mad. Just—urgent.

  She swallowed and looked up.

  For a second, she saw a pained expression. Then it disappeared, replaced by a rigid, blank steely slate that she couldn’t begin to read.

  “I need to talk to you in my office,” he said.

  “We open in ten minutes,” she said, averting her gaze and hoping to deter him from this dreaded confrontation. Why, oh why, had she stupidly said something so insensitive and rude?

  Probably because her feelings were still hurt over him stripping her of the keys. Not to mention his trust.

  How mad was he? How far would he go to make her pay for her actions? Just this week, Jack had axed two evening-shift employees. One for reasons unknown, and the other had walked out after a verbal exchange with Jack. Her heart began to pound at the thought of losing her job. She should have been more careful to guard her thoughts and to tame her tongue.

  She glanced humbly up to meet his gaze, knowing full well she was visually pleading.

  “This will only take a few minutes.” Without waiting for her, he turned to head to his office. A few minutes—what? To fire her? That’s what she was afraid of.

  She shook her head at herself and nibbled her lip, fighting a fiery blush.

  Patrice, Darin and Naem all watched her follow Jack, their compassionate expressions stating the obvious. They were all afraid she was about to get chopped.

  The urge to beg for her job hit Olivia. But her pride wouldn’t let the words come.

  Maybe Jack was right. Maybe she was too stubborn for her own good.

  “Sit down.” He indicated a chair as they entered the office. “Please,” he added, almost as an afterthought. The fact that he seemed to be trying to smooth the rough edges off his usually surly manner of speech gave her a little ray of hope that maybe he’d have mercy on her and let her keep her job.

  She sat, folded her arms in her lap and stared at the floor.

  “What’s going on with Patrice?” he asked.

  Olivia looked up, startled.

  Had he not called her in here because she’d gossiped about him?

  “What do you mean?”

  “The bruise on her face. Where’d she get it?”

  Olivia swallowed. “She doesn’t want me to say.”

  “But you think you need to?”

  She nodded, eyeing the door and hoping Patrice wasn’t listening.

  “So, let me ask you this. How much do you know about her boyfriend?”

  Relief flooded in over Jack’s wisdom in not having Olivia directly say it. “Enough to know I don’t like him. I also know he doesn’t like us.”

  “Us?”

  “Me, Darin, Naem—Patrice’s diner friends. Or, at least, he doesn’t approve of us.”

  “Guy sounds like a jerk.”

  “He thinks we’re beneath him.” Olivia shrugged. “Maybe we are.”

  “The world only works that way because people buy into the lie that it does. No one is less valuable than another person.”

  Jack’s words left Olivia speechless, because they gave her a glimpse of nobility and character she never would have guessed he had. This glimpse gave Olivia a sense of security and rightness with telling him her knowledge about Patrice. It was really none of her business why Jack was so concerned.

  A terrifying thought hit her. She wasn’t jealous, was she?

  Olivia shook herself out of that silly, out-of-nowhere notion. They had a mutual concern for Patrice. Her safety took priority over Olivia’s secret wishes or insecurities. “This isn’t the first time he has physically abused her.”

  Jack raked a hand across his military-style buzz. “The guy sounds like a real winner.”

  Should she tell Jack about the other bruises? He and Patrice were longtime friends. But if Jack told Patrice, she may not open up to Olivia the next time it happened. And he could end up putting her in the hospital or worse.

  I don’t know what to do, Lord. I just know I can’t ignore it or look the other way. I have to intervene and help her if she won’t help herself.

  She knew from Sully that in addition to being a combat medic, Jack was a longtime commander in the Air Force Security Forces. That meant he protected people, right? Maybe he could protect Patrice. At the risk of harming her and Patrice’s friendship, Olivia whispered, “She has other bruises. On her arms, from where he shook her. That’s happened twice that I know of.”

  Jack’s face hardened. He nodded.

  “Please don’t tell her I said anything.” She darted glances to the door.

  Jack met Olivia’s gaze. “If she’s not willing to get away from him, there’s not much we can do. You need to keep trying to get through to her, to maybe see a professional who can teach her about abuse cycles. In the meantime, please keep me informed.”

  The depth of concern in his face gave Olivia the impression he had a personal stake in Patrice’s safety somehow. “I will.” She waited to see if he had anything else to say, maybe about her earlier indiscretion, but he was quiet. Finally she asked, “Are you angry with me?”

  He didn’t look up. Just kept scrawling something on paper. Notes on supplies needed for repairs, from the looks of it.

  “I mean, you’d have a right to be angry.”

  “And you have a right to your opinion,” he stated simply, still writing.

  Should she apologize for being rude? Then again, he still didn’t trust her. And, it’s not like he’d apologized for his part. Maybe it was best to just change the subject. She faced the clock. Five or so minutes until it was time to open the diner.

  “Can I ask you a question?”


  He peered up. Scowled slightly. “Proceed.”

  “Why did you fill up Naem’s tank?” She really, really needed and wanted to know.

  His mouth thinned. His gaze lifted to hers and then grew cold and steely. Formidable. He leaned forward slowly. Her breath caught. She wished she hadn’t asked.

  “Because he brings Darin to work and I selfishly want to make sure they make it to work on time,” he bit out. Then narrowed his gaze as he held hers, daring her to say more about it.

  Her mouth opened slightly, then she shut it.

  Had his feelings been hurt by what she’d said? That would really surprise her. Jack Sullenberger with feelings or a slightly tender place in his heart?

  Highly unlikely.

  And yet, riding beneath the furrow of his manly brows a hint of something she could only describe as an ache resided. He held it in the tense gnawing of his jaw, firm and hard like his resolve. It suddenly hit her that he had many hidden facets. Ones she wanted to know about, for reasons she could not begin to fathom.

  Now she was thoroughly and utterly confused. And pierced to the quick of her heart.

  She’d started this day harboring resentment in her heart for his mistrusting, misunderstanding and misjudging her.

  Now that she’d had a taste of her own medicine, it didn’t feel very good.

  “I’m sorry,” she blurted.

  He didn’t flinch, didn’t budge. Then after a moment, he slowly stood, not giving her any indication as to whether he accepted her apology or not, or if it meant anything to him.

  She inched toward the door, feeling completely awkward.

  “Olivia,” he said softly. “One more thing.”

  His voice had a strangely tender ring to it.

  She turned. “Yes?”

  He slid the lime-green lamp and her Dyslexia Foundation pamphlet across the desk, holding her gaze the entire time.

  Gulp. Had he read the pamphlet? Put two and two together?

  She lifted her gaze from the lamp and pamphlet to his eyes.

  The knowing light there, and the depth of understanding she never imagined she’d see in his face, told her...yes. She swallowed. Felt like looking down or away, but drummed up the courage not to. “Thank you,” she said honestly. “If it’s okay, I’ll pick it up at the end of my shift.”

  He studied her a moment, then said, “Had you told me, I would have helped you.” His voice was soft, and more compassionate than she’d thought him capable of.

  She dipped her head low. “I don’t want special treatment.”

  He came around the desk and stood so close she could feel the heat from his skin as he raked a strand of hair from her eyes. She blinked, startled at the nearness and the tenderness. “Olivia, if it helps you to study in the diner, so be it.” Her breath hitched as his gaze inched down her face and then away. A jingling sounded, then he slid the extra set of diner keys atop her pamphlet. The significant gesture touched her more than he could know.

  “Thank you,” she said, trying to be grateful for the diner keys even though he didn’t reinstate her register privileges. She understood his need to be watchful and cautious.

  “It’s nearly time to open. Please cover the initial customers and tell Patrice I need to see her in my office.”

  She nodded and turned to exit, knowing he was going to ask Patrice about the bruises.

  She would be angry and think Olivia gave details.

  But perhaps Jack could talk sense into Patrice, since they’d been childhood buddies.

  He leaned around her to hold the door for her. His masculine cologne accosted her and reminded her of his alpha appeal. “You did the right thing by telling me.”

  “I hope so.” She slowly lifted her gaze, searching his face but not knowing why. Their eyes met and locked in a moment of unguarded exploration. A sense of sweet wonder filled the space. A flash of overwhelming attraction hit Olivia that she was fairly certain reflected back in his eyes. So strong it felt as if all the air was siphoned from the room. Jack looked as perplexed as Olivia felt as they studied each other’s faces as though they’d never seen them before.

  Jack was first to turn away.

  His uncompromising determination to remain aloof slid back into place, making Olivia wonder if she’d daydreamed the emotional exchange.

  Yet the mutual magnetic pull had seemed so real, so alive, so filled with potential to thrive if even one of them gave in to it. Maybe it just had to do with feeling a bond because of a mutual concern for Sully and now Patrice. That had to be it.

  Either way, she’d be better off not to dwell on it.

  Even if there was something there, nothing between them would be remotely possible, in light of his eventual return overseas and her packed work, school and study schedule. Besides, the messages he’d sent were unmistakable. He didn’t appear to be open to even friendship.

  With gratitude for his grace and that her job was intact, she exited his office and went to wash her hands before work. The classic morning diner scents and sounds of sausage patties grilling, thick bacon frying, cheesy grits simmering, pepper-and-onion hash browns baking, eggs scrambling, Danishes heating, butter biscuits baking, maple syrup oatmeal bubbling and blueberry pancakes frying had never smelled and sounded so good.

  He hadn’t fired her. This time.

  The next time she was unable to keep her mouth shut, he might not show the same mercy.

  God, please help me see Jack the way You do. Lend me Your heart toward him and help me treat him the way You would, Lord. Sorry I let my anger and my mouth get away from me.

  The lack of sleep from studying wasn’t helping. In fact, the long-term sleep deprivation was altering her personality, obliterating her patience, erasing her self-control and making her crabby about dumb things. Plus, the coffee she’d nearly overdosed on to stay awake to study was making her jittery, anxious and edgy beyond belief.

  Being in Jack’s formidable—dauntingly handsome—presence only added to that.

  So she should be content to avoid him, the way he avoided her.

  After an uncomfortable moment of telling Patrice that Jack wanted to see her in his office, Olivia went to open the front door, glad to see customers heading toward the diner. A lot of customers. More than any other morning. Gladness filled her. She loved people, after all.

  More business meant more revenue. Plus, staying busy would help her forget how disastrously the morning started.

  It would also hopefully help her forget the warm feeling of protection that had washed over her the moment Jack had set his hand atop hers earlier, on this very sign.

  She turned it over now, also turning over a new leaf in her heart symbolically.

  Something in the flash of hurt in Jack’s face—the part he hadn’t quite been able to cover—no longer let her believe he’d acted selfishly with Naem as she’d thoughtlessly accused him of.

  Then, there was his kindness in the wake of that, reinstating her free rein to study in the diner.

  What should she do with the wonder rising up in her over the revelation that she may not know the real Jack Sullenberger? Likewise, what should she do with the seed of desire sprouting up? To want to know the real Jack, and perhaps be friends? She couldn’t deny the draw. He seemed so much larger than life; he had makings of a true storybook hero behind his facade.

  She was starting to see glimpses of the son Sully had talked about so much and so often that Olivia had felt like she’d known him. So why was Jack putting up this impenetrable front?

  Because he didn’t know her as well as she knew him. And she sensed there was more to know even still. More strength and goodness inside of the man than maybe even he comprehended.

  Should she bury the intrigue and forget about it?

  Or explore it?


  Fortunately, she didn’t have time to ponder further because the sidewalk had filled up with more people who filed in when she unlocked the diner doors.

  Jack had been right. People were grateful for the early breakfast hours and were showing up.

  She felt bad now for allowing Sully to hinder that by helping her with her hours. She needed to sacrifice her own needs for the greater good, for the community and for the diner.

  If she failed, so be it. Somewhere along the way, it had become more important to her to save Sully’s Diner than to succeed with EMT school. She’d love both, of course.

  But the way things were going, both may not be possible. She’d quit school before she’d let these beloved, iconic diner doors close for good. She could always return to school later.

  Lord, I pray it doesn’t boil down to that hard choice. Make a way for each, if You will.

  “Good morning,” she said to the customers with a genuine smile. “Welcome to Sully’s.”

  * * *

  “You wanted to see me?” Patrice leaned in the doorway of Jack’s office.

  He motioned to the chair across the desk from him. “Please come in and sit down.”

  Patrice nibbled her lip while she closed the door and lowered herself nervously to the edge of the chair. “What’s going on, Jack?”

  “We’ve been friends a long time, Patrice.” His jaw clenched. “Some would even say we’re family.”

  She dipped her head before slowly looking back up. “Olivia doesn’t yet know the history there, Jack, between my dad and your mom and the whole torrid affair. Please tell me you didn’t say something to her about the possibility of us being half siblings.”

  “No. But if she’s the great friend you say she is, I suggest you mention it to her.”

  Why Jack wanted Olivia to know he wasn’t interested in Patrice, he had no idea. He just felt strongly that she needed to know. Or, rather, it was important to him that Olivia know.

  He didn’t want to ponder why.

  Besides, that wasn’t on today’s agenda. “Are you going to tell me what happened that led to your bruises? And, yes, I saw them.”

  She didn’t need to know that he could barely detect the ones beneath her sleeves. He wanted to honor Olivia’s wish that he not reveal her as the whistle-blower, only because he agreed with her that Patrice may then have a falling out with Olivia, and would be less protected and more isolated...which was probably her boyfriend’s goal anyway.