Fresh-Start Family

by Lisa Mondello

  “Let me see if I can find you a box of Kleenex or a paper towel or—”

  “A hose?” She laughed. “No, I’m fine. Really.”

  “You’re sure?” Tag looked around the waiting room, wondering how long the doctor would take with Brian and how long it would take Ben to burn rubber with old faithful to get here. He was out of his league with this one. She clearly needed something he wasn’t equipped to give. But the look on her face at the airport had been heartbreaking. The least he could do was stay with her until her father arrived.

  Tag spotted a box of tissues on an end table on the other side of the waiting room and used that as an excuse to break away from the closeness with Jenna. He quickly retrieved the box and handed it to her.

  Jenna looked up at him with an apologetic expression. “I feel I owe you an explanation. You must think I’m a truly horrible mother for not being in there with Brian.”

  “No. No, I don’t. I think under the circumstances—”

  “I should be with my son.”

  “Well…is there a reason you’re not?”

  She nodded and pulled out a tissue from the box he’d handed her. She blew her nose before saying anything else.

  “Brian was born in Germany, so there was no family to come with me to the hospital, especially after my husband’s death. From the time Brian was little, I was used to taking him to the hospital alone. Back then, I would stay with him the whole time, but it was hard. These last few months my father has come with me, and I guess I’ve let my guard down a little. I can usually manage to keep myself together long enough to get Brian here. But when we get here, and the doctors and nurses are working with him, all I see is my little baby and…I don’t know. Lately, I’ve needed a moment to just fall to pieces before I get back to him. Dr. Healy says it’s best for me to step outside and get myself together so I don’t end up upsetting Brian more.”

  “Does your father stay out here with you?”

  “No.” She took a deep breath. “Dad usually goes in with Brian so he’s not scared when I leave the room. That’s why I’ve been okay taking this time. Except he’s not here right now and I’m sure that made me more emotional. Even if it means leaving Brian alone with the doctors, I’ve gotten too used to having this time to be able to sit in there with Brian without crying.”

  “Your mother isn’t around?”

  She shook her head. “Mom passed away from breast cancer just after I got married. It’s just the three of us now that my sister, Elaine, has moved away.”

  “What happened to Brian’s father?”

  “He passed away of the same disease Brian has. He was in the military, too, and when he pushed himself too hard on a training mission, he got sick.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said quietly. “That must be tough on both of you.”

  “Brian was very young. He barely remembers his father, especially since he was gone so much.”

  “So you always stay out here by yourself?”

  “I stay with Brian when we get to the hospital until the doctor is ready to see him. But as soon as they take him to X-ray or need to examine him fully, I slip outside so I can have my meltdown. It usually passes quickly, and then I can get right back to Brian.” She smiled sheepishly. “When you gave me a minute to myself while you went to get a coffee…” She chuckled and hid her face with her hands.

  It was beginning to make sense. Long nights, quiet corridors, intense fear. He knew a little too much about that. No wonder she needed some time to fall apart. Anyone would. The only problem he saw was that she had to put herself back together all alone.

  “I’m used to dealing with things myself. I’m not used to having someone here to see what a mess I am.” She glanced at the wet spot on his shirt. Reaching over, she lightly brushed her hand over the mark she’d left. A tingling sensation shot through him with the contact. “Or give me a shoulder to cry and slobber all over.”

  She pulled her hand away and an odd sensation began to stir there, making his insides hum.

  “Anyway, thank you. For everything.”

  “It’s okay.”

  Jenna pushed to her feet and wiped her face of residual tears. “I can’t stand the thought of Brian in there alone. But I can’t let him see me like this. I have to pull myself together.”

  “I can go check on him.”

  “No. You’re a stranger, and as much as I’d like you to be my personal fly on the wall, I’m not even sure the doctor would let you in. Anyway, he’s in good hands for now. Dr. Healy has been Brian’s doctor since we moved back to Nebraska. Brian likes him a lot and trusts him. He’ll be okay.”

  “I’m sure he will.”

  Jenna walked to the window, and as she did, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass and cringed. Now was not the time for vanity, but she had to admit that she truly looked hideous. The wind and rain had blown her normally controlled hair into a wild mass of tangles. Her mascara had smudged under her eyes, making her look like a raccoon. The front of her shirt was wet and dirty from trying to help her father get the truck going before they finally abandoned it and decided to go for help.

  She told herself it didn’t matter what she looked like. Her only concern was her son’s well-being. But as she turned and saw Tom Garrison sitting in the chair, hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, her head began to swim. What a first impression she must have made! Whereas he had come out of the encounter looking like nothing less than a hero.

  Under normal circumstances she would find the man very attractive. He didn’t have the normal military buzz cut and instead had jet-black hair long enough for fingers to rake through. He’d combed it at some point between the time he’d opened his front door and now. His shoulders were as wide as he was tall, it seemed. And they were strong. She’d felt that firsthand.

  She pulled her gaze away from him and flipped a lock of unruly hair behind her ear, telling herself again that it didn’t matter what he or she looked like.

  “You really don’t need to stick around here if you don’t want to,” she finally said to him.

  “It’s okay. I can stay until your father gets here.”

  “You don’t have to feel like you need to babysit me. You must be exhausted.”

  “I’m fine. I slept a little before you got to the house. I don’t want to leave you until you’re sure you’ll be okay.”

  She shook her head as she folded her arms across her chest. “I’m okay now, really. And Dad will be here soon. I think my episode is over. I’m going to go back into the room with Brian. Thank you so much for flying us here. And for the use of your truck. We’ll drive it back as soon as we can. I hope it won’t inconvenience you not to have it until tomorrow afternoon.”

  Tom shook his head. “Not a problem. I have a lot of work around the farm that will keep me busy. I won’t even notice it missing.”

  She held out her hand, and he slipped his over hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  “Thank you again for all your kindness.”

  She watched Tom walk away, and as he did, he glanced back once, giving her a quick smile that made her heart do a flip. Then she was alone. Like always.

  You’re a scumbag, Garrison.

  Tag strode through the automatic hospital doors, the moist air hitting him in the face, before he spun on his heels and waltzed back into the lobby. The need to bolt was overwhelming, but the guilt he felt in leaving Jenna alone was winning out.

  What kind of person leaves a vulnerable woman alone in her time of need?

  “You do,” he said aloud to himself and then silently called himself a few choice words. He stopped in the middle of the lobby, his fingers tucked into the front pockets of his jeans, and stared at the corridor leading to Emergency.

  Sighing, he shook his head. He could still hear the justifications running through his head. Ben was going to be here any minute. There was absolutely no reason for him to stay any longer. Jenna had even told him to go. It wasn’t his pr
oblem. His good deed for the day was done. Besides, what comfort could he really be to her when they didn’t even know each other? She’d said it herself. He was a stranger.

  The words sounded real nice running through his mind, and he was even willing to bet they’d sound pretty good rolling off his tongue, too. But Tag wasn’t about to let himself off the hook that easily. He’d never thought of himself as a man who’d leave someone stranded—and yet he’d done just that to his own family while in the military.

  He needed to find a pay phone to call for a cab to bring him back to the airport. He wouldn’t stay. He’d done his job by getting Brian to the hospital quicker than if they’d driven the wet roads. His part in this was done.

  But that wasn’t the real reason he was running for the door. Jenna Atkins needed someone to be there for her. Her child was seriously sick and she needed someone. The woman was clearly in need of comfort and a hand to hold.

  But he couldn’t be that man. He’d never been there for the people who needed him the most, when he was needed the most. He’d taken the easy way out and left them to handle nights like this on their own.

  They don’t get any lower than you, bud.

  It had been more than two years since he’d held Nancy. His heart squeezed just thinking about what he’d put her through.

  Lord, help me, he thought as he spun around and started for the automatic doors again. Lord, help her, he amended. The Lord hadn’t been part of his life in quite a while. It was another reason he should just forget about Jenna Atkins. A Christian woman didn’t need a man like him.

  He reached the doors in time to find Ben Atkins jogging through.

  “How are my kids?” Ben said when he caught sight of Tag.

  “Brian is with the doctor. Jenna is holding her own. She had a bit of a meltdown, but she was going back to Brian when I left.”

  Relief washed over Ben’s face. “Good. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “There’s time enough for thanks later. Your family needs you.” Jenna needs you.

  Tag didn’t look back as he strode through the doors a second time. This time for good. He didn’t need a cab. He’d walk back to the airport if it took till dawn. The rain would feel good, help wash away this nagging feeling he couldn’t shake.

  Jenna had her daddy now to help her through her tough time. He didn’t have to stay behind and play the big hero for her, or for anyone else, for that matter, anymore.

  Because the truth of it was, he was nobody’s hero.

  Chapter Three

  The spring day had turned unseasonably hot. A bead of sweat nagged at Jenna’s collarbone before joining another one in an unending journey beneath her white cotton shirt. It had been her bright idea to bake all day instead of spending it sewing. Hot weather always made her restless, unable to concentrate on her business, no matter how much work needed her attention. With Brian in the hospital, she’d lost the last three days of work and now had a mountain of sewing to do to catch up with orders.

  Still, the good thing about owning your own company, no matter how small, was that you could make your own hours. This was especially useful now that she lived at the farm and had to balance helping her father with chores, giving Brian the attention he required for his medical needs and still making time to sew and take care of orders for her company.

  Her mother had taught her to sew as a child. While living on base, Jenna had had difficulty finding clothes she liked where they were stationed, so she had designed and sewn her clothes herself. It had helped pass the time while Kent had been away on missions. Pretty soon the other military wives had taken notice and asked her to sew for them. Her little cottage industry had filled her quiet evenings and had given her a few extra pennies in her pocket to put away for decorating Brian’s room before her baby was born.

  After Kent died, she and Brian had moved to Omaha and Jenna had started Eye For Style. It started slowly, mostly with her old customers from the base, but as word of mouth spread, it grew. With Kent’s military benefits and the modest amount she made from Eye For Style, Jenna had enough to live on and pay for Brian’s treatment.

  God had been good to her. She had always known that if she put in the effort, the Lord would provide. She was able to keep up with her bills and the stressful routine Brian needed for treatment. But living in the city, it soon became obvious that she wasn’t a superwoman.

  She’d stayed in the city as long as she could, wanting to be closer to the state-of-the-art medical facilities for Brian. But her need for emotional support, and her father’s difficulty with the farm after Jenna’s mother died and her sister moved away, convinced her it was the right move to come back to her hometown of Chesterfield, Nebraska. She’d already established a few solid accounts that automatically bought her goods back in Omaha and on some of the military bases she’d lived on. They kept her busy enough that now she was actually backlogged with work. She just hadn’t felt like doing it—not today.

  There was time enough for her to sew and design later tonight. She could go home and shower off all this sweat from baking and sitting in a hot truck as she drove to the Nelson farm—no, make that Garrison’s farm. No doubt she’d feel more settled once this errand was done.

  She’d made a chicken potpie for him. She had no idea if Tom liked chicken potpie, but Jenna knew she cooked a good one, and she couldn’t very well show up empty-handed when she returned his truck. She didn’t know of a better way to thank him than to feed him. Since he’d admitted to living alone, she banked on him appreciating the home-cooked meal. It was the least she could do for all he’d done for them.

  Her father had offered to return the truck upon their arrival home the morning after they’d taken Brian to Valentine, but Tom had said to keep it until Brian was out of the hospital.

  Brian had stayed two days while Dr. Healy observed him. His fever spike had been just a symptom of one of those childhood bugs that kids get, he’d told Jenna. That might be so. But most parents didn’t have to fear losing their child to the slightest illness like she did.

  It would probably take her a few weeks to stop mother-henning Brian, as she always did after one of his episodes. Brian, on the other hand, had barely been out of the truck when he’d gone bouncing into the barnyard to see some new piglets that had arrived while he’d been gone.

  As Jenna pulled onto the dirt driveway leading to the Garrison farmhouse, a nervous energy jumped to life beneath her skin. Her mouth went dry when she saw Tom heaving what looked like a fifty-pound bag of grain into his arms.

  She glanced in the rearview mirror and discovered that her father and Brian weren’t behind her. Quickly turning her head back toward the road, she found that they were nowhere in sight.

  “Terrific,” she growled. Jenna hit the steering wheel with the palm of her hand.

  They’d pulled out right behind her when she’d left the farm. She hadn’t been paying attention during her drive to notice that they’d probably only made it to the end of the driveway before something else happened to their truck. If she’d bothered to glance in the rearview mirror, she would have known they weren’t behind her before she got too far and would have turned back home.

  Reaching in her purse for her cell phone, she noticed she had no bars for service. Cell phone service in this part of Nebraska was spotty at best and near nonexistent in most of Chesterfield.

  She couldn’t exactly turn back now and find out what had happened. Tom had already spun around and recognized his own truck coming down the driveway, so there was nothing Jenna could do but keep on driving. She didn’t want to appear rude and leave without an explanation.

  A dry breeze whistled past the window and added to the tension that was mounting inside her.

  You’re being ridiculous, she told herself flatly, almost laughing aloud with nervous energy. How many pies have you baked for new people in town? Tons. You’ve greeted lots of new neighbors in the years you’ve lived in Chesterfield and while living on base somewhere in the w
orld.

  That might be so, but none of them looked as good in a pair of faded denims and a white cotton shirt stretched taut over muscles as he did.

  Give him the chicken potpie, thank him for his kindness and then leave. Nothing to feel awkward about. Well, except for the walk home she had ahead of her. Now that she knew her father wasn’t behind her, her sandals would make the mile-long walk back to her farm a little challenging.

  The pickup rolled to a stop right in front of the spot where Tom was standing. Discarding the bag of grain that had been in his arms, he walked around the front of the truck and greeted her on the driver’s side.

  Grabbing the potpie, she eased out of the front seat and allowed Tom to shut the door behind her.

  Tom glanced at the potpie and then at her. His eyebrows knitted before a slow smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

  Jenna thrust the potpie out at him. “I brought back the truck.”

  As he took in the situation, his face quickly registered alarm. “What did you do to it?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Nodding to the chicken potpie, he said, “If you have to butter me up with food, then I figure you’ve got something bad to tell me.”

  Her cheeks flamed. “No, nothing happened. The potpie is just a…thank-you.”

  She saw appreciation creep into the smooth amusement that replaced his panicked expression.

  “By the smell of it, I’d say it’s home cooked and…chicken?”

  “Chicken potpie, to be exact.”

  He nodded and leaned over to take a closer sniff of the still hot food, which she held with pot holders.

  “I figured working all day, you probably don’t have time to cook for yourself,” she added.

  “Actually, I kinda like cooking for myself. It helps me wind down a little after a hard day’s work.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “Oh.”

  “But since I’m really not all that great a cook, I can almost guarantee you that anything you cook would taste a whole lot better than what I can put together. It already smells better than my best attempts. That’s why I’m always grateful when someone else does the cooking.”