by C J Marie
He smirked. “Same goes for you, Jo.” Clearing his throat, he pulled down his mother’s street. “Hopefully you won’t be too overwhelmed tonight, things get a little loud.”
Jo threaded her fingers together and nodded. “I’ll be fine, I’m sure it will be great.”
“Why so nervous then?”
Jo glanced at her busy fingers in her lap and balled her fists instead. “I’m not nervous.” She glanced at him and sighed when he lifted a brow. “I don’t do big things like this at home.”
“Dinners?”
Jo shrugged. “Get togethers, dinners, things like this in general. I’m busy with work, you know.”
“Sure, but there’s always time for important people in your life, right?”
She looked out the window again, her voice grew distant when Zac rolled to a stop in front of the house. “We’ve had a few formal dinners with Emmitt’s family, I guess.”
“Not yours?” Zac pressed. The easiness that had been in her voice was fading back to the strained tone again.
Jo glimpsed over her shoulder before slipping out of the truck. “That’s a topic for another time, Zachariah.”
Now, he was intrigued. He smirked and tucked his keys in his pocket. “Whatever you say, Josephine.”
***
Zac hadn’t been lying about the overwhelming crowd, but Jo would admit—to herself—everything was overwhelming in a good way. She was squished between Olive Whitfield and a slender blonde—her name was Jace—Olive explained she was Rafe’s cousin. Jo glanced at the man across from her, his square chin was strong, and he had kind eyes. If she remembered right, his name was Will—Jace’s older brother. She didn’t catch the entire story Olive started to explain about the relationships, before Olive’s attention turned to baby Brin who was tossing food left and right from a booster seat.
“Where’s Millie?” Zac asked Rafe.
“Up at the Big House,” he said. “Ollie’s mom had her gall bladder removed. Mama just went for a visit to keep Bernadette from burning the house down from boredom.”
Zac had introduced Jo to his Uncle Kent, he’d laughed when he shook her hand nicknaming her the ‘runner’. Jo had flushed, but she soon realized there wasn’t any bitterness in his tone—he’d been teasing, and to her astonishment, Jo had laughed along with him.
Her Boston apartment wasn’t huge, but it felt larger than Agatha’s house with everyone squeezed in on a long folding table in the living room. Zac stalked out of the kitchen with his mom, carrying plates of food and helping her settle the roast and potatoes in the center of the table. Jo smiled watching them interact. It was odd to see such a relationship between a parent and child—especially a grown child. He respected his mother, that was clear as glass, but Zac seemed to genuinely enjoy being around the woman.
A knock sounded at the door, and Agatha quickly changed course for her seat at the table and opened the front door. “Well, Dot there you are, glad you could make it.”
A flushed woman with straight red hair stepped into the house. She placed one hand on either of Agatha’s shoulders, sighing with gumption. “Aggie, thank you for inviting me. Daddy had me going in to visit with the new project manager for the parking lot. His cornbread isn’t done in the middle, if you know what I mean. I didn’t think I’d ever get out of there, and on a Sunday.”
“Well, you have your come to Jesus with your daddy later and get on in here. We’re about to eat,” Agatha insisted, taking one of Dot’s thin arms and tucking her next to Kent at the end of the table.
Dot waved at Olive, Lily and Jace, offered a smack to Will’s shoulder, along with a rustle to Zac’s hair. Rafe and August were safely tucked on the opposite side of the table, free of any touching. Soon, Dot’s eyes found Jo at the end of the table. “Oh, who’s this?”
Zac leaned over his empty plate to face Dot. “This is Jo Graham. She’ll be working at the shop for a few weeks.”
Dot’s eyes widened. “Ah, right. Almost forgot about that excitement.” Dot stood up and reached across the table to shake Jo’s hand. “Dorothy-Ann,” she introduced. “Obviously, you can call me Dot. We’re all grateful to you for shaking up Zac’s boring life—gave us a few laughs.”
Jo smiled shyly when the table rumbled in laughter. “My pleasure.”
That caused more laughing, but Jo didn’t feel the need to bury herself in hole—she was getting used to the jokes about the accident, and she nearly forgot the upheaval to her life and joined in—not much—but a little.
“Alright, y’all,” Agatha muttered halfway through the meal. “You’re going to be required to hear a few words about Travis—it’s his birthday after all, and it’s tradition in this house we mention a favorite memory.”
Jo settled in her chair, eyeing Kent’s somber face, but she focused more on Zac who was smiling, but she could see the ache in his eyes—she could understand.
“Well, I’ll go first,” Kent offered. “My idiot little brother decided to be clever one year—I was a senior in high school. I wanted to pull a prank—you know—on my way out before graduation, but I was shot for ideas. Trav assured me he’d take care of the entire thing. He was barely sixteen at the time. So the day arrives, I’ll never forget sitting in biology class and hearing people shrieking out in the hallway. Naturally, we all peeked out. There, running down the halls, were sheep. Frightened, frustrated, lost sheep. On one side a number was spray painted on their wool, on the other side a picture of my face twined around the shoulders.
“The thing was, Trav intentionally skipped number five,” Kent laughed as did the rest of the table. “He did it so the teachers would think there was always a sheep missing. I got suspended, and when the principal found out Trav was behind it all, he did too. Can’t say our mama was too proud, but he came through like he said. I left school a legend.”
Jo smiled when Agatha wiped the corner of her eye and grinned. “I remember him talking about that. His friend who borrowed out the sheep got a whipping too, once his daddy found out he’d taken ten of their ewes for a prank.” Kent laughed again and nodded. “Well, I have buckets full of memories. I know most of y’all didn’t ever meet Trav, but he would’ve been the life of these dinner parties. I’ll never forget the day he told me he was going to marry me whether I knew it or not.” Agatha glanced around the table, everyone waited with wide eyes and Jo found it calming to hear the love story, even if it ended in tragedy. “I wasn’t too fond of Travis Dawson at first. He was cocky, and bold. And much like his son here, never shaved his chin.”
“You like it mama,” Zac said, stroking his beard.
Agatha blew him a kiss and continued. “I told the man as much, I said, ‘You are dreaming, Dawson. I’ll never marry you.’ Travis wasn’t one to give up, he told me he’d get me to fall head over heels for him before the summer was over. Turns out he was right. By the Fourth of July I would have married that man—of course I was still in high school, but a few years later, there we were at the church speaking our vows. Travis was the most determined man I knew, and I’m grateful he never gave up that summer.”
Kent squeezed Agatha’s hand as they both looked at Zac. He drummed his fingers on the table, studying his plate, and Jo had the desire to take his other hand and give it a squeeze like his uncle had done. Of course, that wouldn’t happen.
“Well, I don’t want to repeat last year’s, so I’ve been thinking for a few days now trying to pick a good one. Although, I don’t have any bad ones, even when daddy was mad at me he had a way of being calm.” Kent and Agatha nodded their agreement. “There was one night, it was probably only a few weeks before his accident, I caught him dancing with you in the kitchen, mama. He winked at me over your shoulder. That night, I can remember him sitting on the edge of my bed and telling me to always be a man who wasn’t too chicken to show a woman his feelings. You know, dance in the kitchen, do the dishes, cry if you need to, open doors for the ladies.” Jo sucked in a breath when he peered at her across the table. “I don
’t know what made me think of that night, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”
Agatha was dabbing both eyes now. “He sure loved you, son,” she whispered.
Zac nodded. “I know. You too.”
Jo bit back the sting of tears in her own eyes. She had broken bits and pieces, but couldn’t think back on memories with as much fondness. Watching Zac and his family talk about the sweeter days, it altered her perception of Mr. Dawson slightly. He might not be the spawn of the underworld that she’d tried to create. He might be a man—a good man with a heart she’d refused to see before.
Jo relaxed, listening as the conversation slowly drifted back to present time, everyone catching up on everyone else’s business. Jace and Will apparently worked with their father’s business acquiring land for commercial buildings or housing units. Jace didn’t seem like a businesswoman, but the way she spoke was impressive since she hinted she’d found a passion in creating community centers where afterschool programs and extracurricular activities were held.
“It helps to give kids something to do. I think it keeps people out of trouble to have a place to go,” Jace said.
“It’s a good thing,” Will agreed, though he remained on the industrial side with their father from how he spoke. “Dot, how’s business for you?”
Dot sighed, her fork clinking against the china. “Not great. We’re down to three days a week now. We can’t open for seven because Doctor Raymond can only come into town three days. I’ve tried incentive programs to get more employees, but no one seems interested. It’s not as if they’d work for free.”
Jo glanced up from helping Agatha clear the plates off the table. Zac was at her side, taking the stack from her hands, so Jo could grab some glasses. “Where do you work?” she asked.
Dot met her eye. “Oh, I’m PR for a clinic my parents opened up. Seemed like a fabulous idea a year ago, we didn’t expect there would be such a need for care compared to so little employee help. Right now it’s run by two nurses, a secretary, and one doctor with limited time.”
Jo’s heart leapt to the back of her throat. “A medical clinic?”
She realized the question sounded ridiculous since Dot had mentioned doctors and nurses, but she found herself too excited to recant. Zac seemed to catch her shift in attitude. “I forgot to mention, Dot, Jo is a physician assistant.”
“No kidding? Know anyone looking to work at a non-profit clinic for low-income folks? We have staff lunches every Friday.” Dot muttered sarcastically.
Jo swallowed the sticky lump in her throat. “Maybe I could help while I’m here.” She glanced around, shocked by her own offer, but the silence settling in the room didn’t help. “I mean, after the shop, of course. The doctor would need to agree to supervise, but he shouldn’t need to be on site every day. I can even write prescriptions if needed. Just a thought—I’m not even sure what the rules of this situation are—so I might be breaking some kind of agreement.”
Dot leaned forward, her eyes wide when she grinned at Olive across the table, then back at Jo. “You’re serious?”
Jo glanced at Zac who was watching her in a way that prickled the back of her neck in a good way though. She shrugged. “If it’s allowed, I’m quite serious.”
“It’s allowed, isn’t it Zac?” Dot said, though it sounded more like she was daring him to disagree.
Zac’s smiled faded when he looked at Jo—she had the sudden desire to know what he was thinking. “I can’t imagine it would be a problem, but we can always ask McKinnon.”
“Send Aggie,” Olive teased, causing Zac’s uncle to snort in his water glass. “That will soften the judge right up.”
Zac rolled his eyes, and Agatha flicked drops of water at Olive from across the table. Jo grinned, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. She wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment that she needed to get court approval to do something she loved, or if it was excitement at returning to patient care.
Maybe the heat in her face was because for the remainder of the evening, Zac Dawson kept glancing in her direction, and she might have liked it more than she should.
Chapter 6
After the easy meal with his friends and family, Zac imagined Jo might be getting used to him and everyone in his life. Monday proved he wasn’t reading the woman as well as he thought. Jo marched into the shop, plopped into the seat and offered a curt nod in his direction before setting to work, doing…something since he hadn’t left any sort of list for instructions.
“How is the day going?” he asked a few hours after opening.
“Fine.”
He paused, tossing new brake pads back and forth in his hands. “Okay,” he tempered. “Need anything?”
“A plane ticket home?” She offered with a tilt to her head.
Zac furrowed his brow, frustration bleeding across the surface of his skin. He wasn’t fool enough not to know working for an auto repair shop wasn’t the first choice of Jo Graham, but yesterday she’d seemed more relaxed, even excited about the possibility of covering at Dot’s clinic. Now, the frosty layers were intact again, and Zac was getting whiplash from the back and forth.
“Everything alright?”
Jo snorted. “I’m sitting behind a desk confirming oil change appointments. Do you think everything in my world is alright?”
Zac rolled his eyes, letting out a breath of air so she knew her mood swings were having her intended effect. “Seems like it might do you some good to try something new. You need to learn to play nicer with others.”
Jo narrowed her gaze, but bit back her retort by the way her jaw pulsed. Zac grumbled under his breath at her entitlement. How things had shifted from laughter, teasing, and pleasant conversation in less than twenty-four hours, he wouldn’t know. What he knew was Jo Graham disliked them, him most of all, and he wasn’t sure why he kept trying to change her mind.
“Zac,” Rafe muttered shoving his shoulder after the lunch hour. “Are you going to help us?”
Zac shook away the haze in his mind, thoughts about why Jo hated him clouded him most of the morning and it needed to stop. He looked over his shoulder where August and Rafe were lowering the backside of a commercial pick-up truck. It took care, and needed to move slowly from the weight. Zac took inventory on the jack, thinking it might be time to replace the old thing. It was in still workable, but he didn’t care for the way it shuddered with the release.
“You’re distracted today,” August muttered, dipping beneath the back of the truck to remove the creeper.
“I’m good, just tired,” Zac insisted through a grunt. “Aug, move, it’s coming down.”
“Hang on,” August replied, reaching for the creeper once more. “I lost it.”
“August, look out!” Rafe snapped.
There weren’t many accidents in the shop, but there were close calls sometimes, and when the jack slipped, Zac’s mind listed a slew of dangerous situations the faulty equipment could cause like a horrific flash reel. He took pride in ensuring a safe work environment, but he saw the bottom bar of the jack give out before it happened. August slipped out from beneath the truck as it slammed back to the ground, but when the shop filled with agonizing cursing, Zac went into emergency mode.
“Rafe, lift the bar!” he shouted, crouching next to August as his brother pumped the jack again. The heavy tool had caught August’s hand beneath one of the heavy edges, only to release when Rafe pumped it up again.
“Damnit,” August said, clutching his hand against his chest.
Zac’s stomach lurched and tightened in a sick double knot. He couldn’t see the extent of the injury, but he saw enough blood to know it wasn’t good. August gasped, his jaw clenched tight until the muscles in his jaw pulsed as his skin paled and sweat coated his brow.
Once the truck was lowered again, Rafe crouched at his brother’s side and reached for August’s hand. “Let me see it,” Rafe commanded.
Mouse had rushed around the side, slammed the radio off, and was hunched next to Z
ac saying nothing, but his eyes bulged in his head like headlights. August’s hand trembled when he pulled it back. Zac could breathe a small sight of relief seeing all five fingers still intact, but a dark, crimson laceration split down the back of August’s hand.
Rafe swallowed, seeming queasy at the gore, before scooping August under his arm and helping his brother stand. “Come on, we’ve got to get it looked at.”
Zac helped August stand with Rafe, before rushing toward the office door. “Mouse, keep an eye on the shop, yeah?”
Mouse saluted and still…said nothing.
Zac shoved into the front lobby, August hissing foul words, but seeming like he was trying hard not to. In the chaos, Zac didn’t even see Jo sweeping the tile until he shoved into her backside.
She scowled at first before her eyes widened as she absorbed August’s bloody hand. “What happened?” she shouted, dropping the broom in a clatter and rushing to Rafe and August.
“Accident with the jack,” Zac snapped. “We’re taking him to the ER.”
“Sit down,” Jo demanded, rushing toward the front desk.
“What?” Rafe gaped. “He needs stitches.”
“I can see that, and it needs to be cleaned, sit unless you want him to wait two hours, bleeding and in pain,” Jo said, bringing her messenger bag out from behind the desk. Zac released a pent breath when she pulled out a plastic first aid kit and a black leather kit. He didn’t know what was inside, but he moved out of the way when Jo went into a determined mechanical mode.
August winced, and bit his bottom lip when he plopped onto the couch.
“What do you need?” Rafe gasped, catching on that Jo was taking over. Jo eased August’s hand away from his coddling.
She didn’t hesitate at the grease, the blood, the sweat from the day, as she studied the wound. “I need some clean damp towels.” Her eyes flicked toward Zac. “It’s deep.”
“Shouldn’t we get it stitched up then?” he questioned.
Jo was already tearing a large piece of gauze in a package with her teeth, while supporting August’s shaking hand. She nodded at the leather kit. “I have my own suture kit. Are you okay with me doing this, August?”