Catching Serenity

by JoAnn Durgin

  The same scent Serenity said her mother always wore.

  ~CHAPTER 31~

  Serenity dropped to her knees beside where Jackson planted flowers on the church grounds—a row of pretty petunias in various shades of pink, purple, white and lavender. What an intriguing contrast to see such a big, strong man lowering the delicate blooms into the earth. Petunias were hardy, and so was Jackson. Removing a pink one from its container, he placed the flower in the hole he’d dug in the ground, taking great care to position it evenly in the row before spreading the soil around it.

  He sat back and swiped a glove-covered hand over his brow. Interestingly enough, the glove was pink and white with a paisley pattern.

  “First of all, you should have a cushion beneath your knees,” she said.

  “I’m not a girl. No offense.” His brow was furrowed, his jawline tense as he continued his work.

  “Someone’s in a good mood.” Serenity handed him a pink petunia but switched it out when he motioned at a white one tinged with pink.

  “I have a pattern going,” he said, glancing at her. “Probably what a decorator calls symmetry.”

  “You were right the first time. It’s more of a pattern. To be honest, if you’re worried about looking like a girl, then you definitely shouldn’t be wearing that girly glove.”

  “Hey, I borrowed them from Sue Martin and it’s all she had left. The manly gloves were all taken.” He grunted and positioned the next plant in the ground. “I’m not too proud to be seen in pink and white. Doesn’t offend my masculine sensibilities or whatever.”

  She laughed. “I was referring more to the paisley pattern.”

  He shook his head, but she caught a glimpse of that adorable dimple. “Are you here to work or insult me?”

  “Both.” She grinned. “You seem contrary today. Which color’s next?”

  “You tell me,” he said, “since you’re so color conscious today. Or pattern conscious. Whatever.” Reaching to the ground behind him, he tossed the matching glove at her. “Here. Better put this on so you don’t get dirt under your nails.”

  “Thanks, I think,” she said, tugging it over her hand. “I’m very cognizant of colors all the time, not just today. Because that’s what we decorators do.” She handed him a purple flower, pleased when he gave her a nod of approval.

  They worked in silence for a few minutes, planting the flowers along the low row. He dug the holes while she lowered the petunias into the ground and they alternated filling in the holes with dirt. A couple of times their hands touched and he playfully swatted her away and then she did the same. In a way, it reminded her of the way she and Danny used to play together. Silly fun stuff.

  Finally, he seemed to relax and initiated conversation. They laughed and talked about nothing in particular, enjoying the warm sunshine, slight breeze and one another’s company. She’d wait until they were done and she had Jackson’s full attention before hitting him with her questions. As it was, she was still trying to figure out how to raise the subject without just blurting it out.

  When Serenity noticed he’d stopped working, she glanced over at him. “Lazing about on the job, are we?” Laughing, she swiped a dirt-covered finger over his cheek. He mock-gasped, so she repeated it, rubbing more dirt into his tanned skin and smearing it around. She lowered her gaze, not wanting to stare at him. Breathe him in was more like it. Jackson’s bright blue tank was soaked in completely male, strategic places, and he wore shorts that showed his muscular legs to full advantage. A faint line of sweat peppered Jackson’s forehead and the skin on his shoulders glistened. She felt a bit overheated although not necessarily from the rising humidity. Sweat on a man never looked so absolutely...attractive.

  “You’re not playing fair.” His tone wasn’t teasing this time.

  “Neither are you,” she whispered. When his eyes met hers, Serenity held her breath.

  With one hand, he smeared a slow line of soil on her bare arm near her shoulder. That’s what she got for wearing a sleeveless top. Brilliant move.

  She hadn’t expected to be so sidetracked. They worked in silence again until they finished planting the last row of flowers. After Danny’s death, she never imagined she’d find another man to love. From the time she was a teenager, he’d been her world. Now she couldn’t stop thinking about Jackson with his confidence, his strength and his ability to make her believe everything could one day be “normal” again. A different kind of normal from what she’d shared with Danny, but a new normal.

  “Want to know why I didn’t smear dirt on your face?” Jackson tugged off his glove and gestured for her to remove the matching one she wore. “I have to say, it was mighty tempting. Took everything in me not to do it.”

  “Only if you’re dying to confess.”

  “You ponder that and I’ll be right back with water bottles.” Sprinting across the yard to a cooler beneath a tree, he chatted with one of the ladies and then left the gardening gloves on a table near the back door of the church. Serenity waved to a few of the others scattered about the yard and smiled when she spied Charlie trimming hedges. He waved and gave her a big smile as Jackson came back and handed over one of the cold bottles. She liked how he always considered her needs.

  “Want to go share a tree and some conversation, Miss Serenity?” Twisting off the cap of his bottle, he took a long swig, nearly draining the bottle.

  “I’m done pondering, so sure.” Grabbing her hand, Jackson pulled Serenity to her feet.

  “So, did you come to any conclusions?” he asked, walking beside her as they crossed the church grounds.

  Unwittingly, he’d given her the perfect segue. “Yes. I concluded there’s some things in your past I know nothing about. Things I’d like to know.”

  “I’m happy to tell you,” he said. “Whatever you want, especially since you asked.”

  Reaching above her head, Serenity pulled down one of the sturdy evergreen leaves of a magnificent southern magnolia tree and inhaled the scent of an off-white bloom. “Bet you don’t have trees like this in Chicago. Here, take a whiff.”

  Jackson leaned closer. “Smells like lemon. That’s a surprise.”

  “I know. Kind of like sugary lemon,” she said. “Rich and sweet.”

  “Like you said, there’s a lot to love about Croisette Shores.”

  She couldn’t miss the implication of his words, but she avoided his gaze. “It’s a much slower pace of life, but that’s one of the reasons I love it so much.”

  “Yep,” he said, sliding down to sit at the base of the tree, leaning against it. “Just the way I like it.” He darted a glance at the ground beside him before tugging on her hand, catching her off-guard. Serenity tripped and landed in an awkward position on Jackson’s lap, and she cried out in surprise. Ignoring his soft laughter, she slid down to the ground beside him, her cheeks flushed with warmth.

  “Way to be subtle, Dr. Ross. Hope you enjoyed that little thrill.”

  His smile was so inviting with all those white teeth and that dimple winking at her. Charm could be a dangerous quality and Jackson had been blessed with more than his share.

  “Sorry. Guess I don’t know my own strength.”

  “Sure you do.” Leaning against the broad base of the tree, Serenity wrapped her arms around her propped knees. “Talk away. I’ve got time. My dad tells me you have quite a history, but he said I should ask you since it’s your story to tell.”

  Stretching out his long legs, Jackson rested beside her. The pain didn’t seem to bother him today, although she’d think being on his knees to plant flowers would be hard on them. She’d prayed for his knee since that touch football game at the picnic.

  “How much did Clinton tell you, exactly?”

  “Is it true you were drafted into the NFL straight from college?”

  Jackson chuckled. “Yep, unbelievable as it sounds.”

  “What position?”

  “Wide receiver, same as in college. Let me back up a minute and give you the who
le picture. I made the first-string football squad as a freshman in high school and played all four years and then got a scholarship to one of the powerhouse football schools in the country. They worked us to death, but I loved it. Expectations for the players are extremely high, to say the least. Even higher than my parents’ expectations, and that’s pressure enough to make anyone blow.” Propping his arms on his bent knees, Jackson shook his head. “The training was relentless and I was exhausted in my bones. I fell into bed fully-dressed most nights, no dinner, nothing. It’s a miracle I had any energy left to study.”

  Serenity smiled. “I’m still stuck on you not eating dinner. That’s serious business.”

  He laughed. “You’re not kidding. I’d grown really close to this cool older guy on the coaching staff named Gus Michaelson. Gus took some of the guys on the team, including me, under his wing. Taught us a lot, yelled at us a lot, but he made us better players. He’d been with the Bears for over twenty-three years, but he wanted to go back to college coaching the last few years of his career. Gus poured his all into the players. I mean, he was more than a mentor. That man cared for the heart and soul of each man and not just because it’d be good for the team. He was a great man and cared for the entire player, and he wanted the players to see the team was the sum of its parts. Some guys got too arrogant and pushed him aside. Once he helped get them where they needed to be, they forgot about old Gus.”

  When a strong, brisk wind blew a few wayward strands of hair across her eyes, Jackson tucked them behind her ear. His fingers brushed her cheek as he lowered his hand.

  “But you never forgot him, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t. He’s also the one who led me to the Lord. Believe it or not, it started at the dinner table one night. His wife, Helen, invited me over to their house at least once a week.”

  She laughed. “I can see it now. Pass the potatoes, please. Jackson, did you know the Lord loves you like you love mashed potatoes? This explains so much. Maybe that’s where the whole idea of seeing Jesus in a potato chip began.”

  “Could be.” He laughed with her. “It’s not really anything overly dramatic, but never one to pass up an opportunity to share about spiritual things, he seized the moment and laid out the plan of salvation. He grabbed his pen and drew on his napkin, kind of like a game plan in the locker room.”

  Jackson’s smile sobered. “My story turned ugly. You can’t sugar coat it, any way you look at it.”

  She met his gaze. “If you didn’t have any skeletons in your closet, I doubt you’d be sitting here with me now. Nothing you can tell me will change my opinion of you.” The softening in his eyes matched what was happening in her heart.

  “That means more than you know.” Jackson shifted his position and blew out a long breath. “My junior year in college, a couple of the guys started taking performance enhancing drugs to keep them strong. They found ways to get around the testing and convinced me to try them. I was low on my game one day, and—like an idiot—I tried them. Problem was, I liked it and kept taking them for a few months. My game improved and I had some stellar performances. We won a lot of games, all based on stupid lies.” Staring at the ground, Jackson picked at the grass between his propped legs.

  “What happened?”

  “Gus happened. He hauled us into the locker room and reamed us out. I’d never seen him so mad. His cheeks were flaming red, his eyes bulged, and I was afraid he’d blow a gasket or fall dead on the spot from a massive coronary. Most of the guys laughed in his face and walked away, telling him to mind his own business, and I think some even threatened him to keep quiet. Before I knew it, I was the only one left in the locker room.” Jackson glanced over at her. “I couldn’t leave him there. Not after what some of those idiots said to him. He deserved better.”

  “How did Gus find out?”

  “He’d been cleaning around the locker room one day and found evidence. When he calmed down a little, he fell onto the bench beside me and asked me point-blank about it. I broke down and confessed everything. Then the other players made up a pack of outright lies and got Gus fired.” That last part came out almost a growl and Jackson’s eyes sparked with anger. “I wanted to defend Gus to the school board and tell them about the drugs, but Gus convinced me it wasn’t worth it, and intimated the other coaches knew about it but were willing to cover it up. He told me to stop doing the drugs, pray about it and let God handle the rest.” He shrugged. “So, I did. To this day, I still wonder if it was the right decision. A few like me got drafted into the NFL, some suffered career-threatening injuries, others got fed up with the relentless pace or left for other reasons.”

  Jackson lowered his head to his hands. When he raised his head a few seconds later, his eyes shimmered with raw emotion. “My parents weren’t perfect, but they raised me better than to stoop to using an artificial crutch to be a better football player. I not only shamed myself, but I shamed them, the team, everyone. At the time, I was one of those holiday churchgoers and didn’t have any kind of personal relationship with the Lord. No two ways about it, I was not only a sinner, but I was a coward.” His voice took on a defiant tone, and he shook his head. “I should have marched into the school board meeting and told them about the drugs. But I took the easy way out. Gus knew I wanted to play professional ball, and he told me I wouldn’t stand a chance if I blew the scandal wide open.”

  “So, then what happened? If you feel like talking about it.”

  “Long story short, I cleaned up and never touched another drug and by the grace of God had a great final college season and got drafted by the Bears. To this day, I think Gus had something to do with it but he’d never admit it. Helen winked at me at graduation, and that’s when I knew in here.” Curling his fist, Jackson thumped it on his chest. “I started training camp and passed, got my uniform and started all the preseason rookie publicity stuff and then decided I couldn’t do it.”

  Serenity turned to face him, sitting cross-legged on the grass. “Couldn’t do...what?”

  “The whole thing. I wanted more from my life, but I wanted to do more with my life. I wanted to make a difference to someone like Gus made in mine, I guess. I thought about coaching, but knew that wasn’t it, either. So, I quit the team and joined up with the Army and shipped off to Afghanistan as soon as I finished my leadership training.”

  Her jaw gaped and she couldn’t speak. She motioned for him to continue.

  “I was a little long in the tooth since most of the kids were barely old enough to shave. All the physical conditioning I’d done in the past paid off and I rose quickly in the ranks and earned a modicum of respect from my superiors, at least in terms of my willingness to follow orders and pay them due respect. As much as anything, I learned from Gus to respect others, no matter their weaknesses, and to appreciate their strengths. Long story short, one morning I was in a jeep with a couple of my commanding officers and we were attacked by an IED.”

  “Oh, no,” Serenity said, grabbing his hand. “Is that how your knee—”

  “Yeah. I know you’ve noticed the scar but were too polite to ask.”

  “It looks painful, and I didn’t want to bring up anything hurtful. You were in enough pain.”

  Taking her hand, Jackson guided it to his knee with an unspoken invitation in those soulful eyes. Serenity ran a light finger along the length of the scar—running jagged and horizontal across his right knee—lighter than the tanned skin around it. As she’d done before, she bent and planted a soft kiss on his heated skin.

  “It’s not the actual scar that hurts, you know.” His voice was as quiet as she’d ever heard it and brimming with emotion. “One of the guys, Damon Marshall, lost the bottom portion of his right leg. He came back home and decided three days later he couldn’t cope with life as an amputee. So he waited until his wife went to the grocery, fashioned a noose out of bed sheets and made her a widow.”

  She gasped. “That’s horrible! I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.” Lacing her fingers
through his, Serenity leaned her head on his shoulder.

  The Purple Heart. “Jackson, when I went into the bedroom at Doc Rasmussen’s to get your pillows, there was a Purple Heart medallion on the dresser. I wasn’t being nosy, but the sunlight caught it. I wanted to see what it was. When I realized what I held in my hands, I assumed it belonged to Doc since he’d served in the military. I remember thinking how—being born and raised in Croisette Shores—I should have heard about it.” She touched Jackson’s jaw, turning his face toward her. “The Purple Heart belongs to you, doesn’t it?”

  He nudged her shoulder. “You’re finding out all my secrets today.”

  “Why should something so honorable be kept a secret?”

  “Because I might have saved Damon’s life, but I didn’t save his soul.”

  His statement stirred her anger. “I know I haven’t been a Christian long, but from what I know, that’s not your responsibility. Damon was responsible for his own eternal security or whatever. Not you.”

  “But neither did I share the gospel with him. I dragged Damon and Sean out of the jeep and tended to their wounds. I prayed the whole time, but I didn’t ask them to pray with me.”

  “How do you know they didn’t pray in their hearts? I mean, if you were laying there with half your leg gone like Damon, or bleeding profusely like Sean probably was, would you be in any conscious frame of mind to do anything?” She caught his look. “You can’t take on the wounds of the world, Jackson. You did what you could. I might not know much about the Purple Heart, but it’s an honor you earn not only for being brave, but doing something selfless and heroic and being wounded in the process.”

  Sitting up on her knees, Serenity cradled his face—hot, sweaty and with a couple of dirt smudges on his cheek, but the most handsome face she’d ever seen. “What happened?”

  “We were on the fringe of a roadside bomb, close enough yet just far enough away. Flying shrapnel showered the Jeep, but trust me, I suffered the least. I was driving and”—he paused and his eyes were wet—“the officers were in the backseat.”