HF02 - Forever After

by Deborah Raney

  “Come on down,” Lucas said again. “Hope you don’t mind if I don’t come up. It’s a bear getting upstairs on these stupid things.” He shifted his weight to one crutch and pointed at her with the other.

  She hurried down the stairs. Smiling, Luc took her hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “How are you?”

  So many other questions contained within his three little words. “I’m good. How are you?”

  He squeezed her hand. “Better now.”

  “Hi, Jenna!” Luc’s sisters called in unison from the family room.

  From the look in his eyes, he was not happy with the interruption.

  She laughed at him and poked her head around the corner to where Emily’s fiancé, Victoria, and Gina were ensconced in mismatched sofas and overstuffed chairs. The cozy room was lit only by the big-screen TV.

  Lucas poked Gina with the rubber-tipped end of one crutch. “Scoot over.”

  “Ouch! You could just ask.”

  “I did.”

  Jenna laughed, charmed at the little boy Lucas became in the presence of his sisters. Even though he was the big brother.

  Lucas plopped beside his sister and pulled Jenna down beside him.

  She settled in, letting Lucas take her hand again in the dark. She pretended to watch the game, but as he twined his fingers with hers, her mind wandered far away, fantasizing what it would be like to be part of this happy family. What it would be like to have Lucas beside her every day, holding her hand, kissing her the way he’d kissed her last night. She almost couldn’t breathe thinking about it. Wishing it would happen again, fearing it would. And wondering if things could ever work out between them.

  Emily appeared on the stairway. “I don’t suppose anyone could tear themselves away from the game long enough to help me in the kitchen.”

  “Luc would be happy to.” Victoria grinned at her brother from her nest in a comfy chair.

  He picked up a crutch and pointed it at her. “Have a little compassion for the handicapped, will you?”

  “I’ll help.” Jenna untangled her fingers from Lucas’s grip and pushed off the sofa.

  Victoria and Gina shot from their seats, which made Lucas roar. “Oh, man! You guilted them straight out of their seats.”

  Jenna laughed, but she felt awkward as she followed the Vermontez sisters up to the kitchen. Emily put her immediately at ease, assigning her simple tasks and keeping up friendly chatter while they worked.

  The doorbell rang while Jenna was slicing homemade bread.

  “Abi and Baba are here!” Victoria shouted.

  “Manny’s parents,” Emily explained, wiping her hands on a Christmas-y dishtowel.

  Jenna thought she saw a glint of sadness in Emily’s eyes when she spoke of her late husband’s parents.

  Victoria and Gina ushered an elderly couple into the kitchen. “Jenna,” Victoria said, hugging the petite white-haired woman, “this is Abuela and Abuelo Vermontez.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she said, coming around the counter to shake their hands.

  “She’s a pretty girl,” the gentleman said to his granddaughters, as if Jenna couldn’t hear him.

  She smiled, mildly embarrassed, but Luc’s sisters seemed not to notice.

  “Baba, Abi, this is Lucas’s friend, Jenna Morgan.”

  “Morgan, you say? Wasn’t that the name of that rookie friend of Lucas’s? The fellow who died with our Manuel?”

  Emily came to her rescue. “Yes, Pop, Zachary was Jenna’s husband.”

  “I thought you said she was Lucas’s friend.”

  “She is, Pop.” Emily smiled a friendly apology Jenna’s way. “Any friend of Zachary’s is a friend of our family.”

  Luc’s grandfather removed the gray fedora from his head, placed it over his heart, and bent at the waist. “I’m very sorry for your loss, dear.”

  “Thank you.” She swallowed back sudden tears. “And I’m sorry for yours.”

  “We’ve all had some hard times, haven’t we?”

  “Yes, we have.” She managed to acknowledge his sweet expression of sympathy before her throat closed completely.

  “Girls, take Abi and Baba’s coats. Dinner’s almost ready.”

  A few minutes later the adorable couple was settled at the table, and the food was arranged on the bar counter doubling as a buffet.

  “Gina, go tell Luc and Geoff that dinner’s on … and don’t let them talk you into bringing plates down to them either. It’s Christmas and we will eat a proper meal together.” She winked at Jenna.

  “Good luck with that,” Victoria mumbled.

  But within seconds Gina was back with Geoff in tow, and Jenna heard the muffled thump thump of Lucas’s crutches on the carpeted stairs.

  He reached the top and clumped over to greet his grandparents. After kissing both of them—kisses on both cheeks—he came to where she was standing near the table. “You hungry?”

  Jenna nodded, butterflies fluttering in her belly. “Everything looks delicious.”

  Emily smiled her thanks and turned to Lucas. “Luc, will you say the blessing?”

  He looked a little taken aback by her request, but he nodded and everyone bowed their heads. Jenna followed suit.

  “Father God, we thank You for this day when we celebrate the birth of Your Son. Thank You, God, for the hope that gives us. It’s been a year of—”

  Lucas paused and Jenna realized he was choking up, struggling to regain his composure. Unexpected tears threatened behind her own eyelids.

  “It’s been a hard year,” Luc murmured. His voice grew strong again. “But it’s been a year of healing, too, and we’re grateful for all Your blessings. Thank You that Abi and Baba could be here with us, and for each person You’ve brought around this table today.”

  He reached over and squeezed her shoulder.

  “Bless this food and bless our time together,” he finished. “In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  A chorus of amens fluttered through the room, and Jenna bit her lip to keep it from trembling. This was a side of Lucas she’d only seen hints of. But his prayer unlocked something within her that she couldn’t yet define. It moved her deeply to be standing here with this family. She could imagine what their lives must have been like two years ago, while Manny was still alive, gathered around this same table, unaware that tragedy would soon shatter their world.

  And yet, here they were, three generations, laughing and smiling together, teasing each other in a way that exuded love. Seemingly whole again, and thanking a God they seemed to consider part of the family. How could they claim they’d been blessed after everything that had happened over the past year? And yet, looking around the room at faces that glowed with genuine joy, she knew it was true. How could eyes haunted by sadness also spark with such unspeakable joy? It was a mystery she felt compelled to solve.

  Beside her, Lucas abandoned his crutches and tried to juggle a plate in one hand while he gripped the counter for balance with the other. She took his plate from him. “Here. Tell me what you want and I’ll dish up.”

  “Thanks.” He put a hand at the small of her back while she filled his plate. She thrilled at his touch but felt the watchful eyes of his family on them.

  “Keep it coming, keep it coming,” he teased as she scooped dressing and gravy onto the only empty spot left on his plate.

  They ate amidst lively conversation, affectionate teasing, and love that was palpable. Jenna couldn’t help but compare this gathering to last night at the Morgans’, where the house—despite its grand decorations—had the feel of a mausoleum. What was it that made the difference in this family? The Vermontezes had arguably lost even more than the Morgans. Manny was a husband, son, and father with two daughters in college. And besides, they’d had to deal with the trauma and expense of Lucas’s injuries, too. Injuries that had been life-changing for Luc—for all of them.

  Luc’s Abi and Baba charmed her through dinner, though she really hoped his grandpa wouldn’t mentio
n Zach again.

  When Luc was finished with his plate, he handed it to Gina. “Hey, little sister, save Sparky some of the scraps. And a nice turkey leg maybe?”

  “No, sir!” Emily protested. “Not until I pick that bird clean. I’ve got a pot of turkey noodle soup started. Besides, I thought Sparky was supposed to be on a strict training diet.”

  Lucas pushed his chair away from the table. “He is. I’ll make him work for it, but it’s Christmas Day. Can’t you give a poor doggy a bone?”

  Emily rolled her eyes. “He can have a bone, but not till I get the meat off of it.”

  Gina gathered up everyone’s offering of scraps. Lucas had told her that Gina was helping with Sparky’s training while she was home, since he’d been sidelined by this latest injury.

  “How’s the training going?” She was sorry she asked when Luc grabbed his crutches and took the plate of leftovers from his sister, handing it to Jenna. “Come on … I’ll show you.”

  She was still no fan of the dog, but she was a fan of Luc. Thanking Emily for the meal, she excused herself from the table and followed Lucas out the back door with the plate.

  Her hair was silk beneath his hands, and he wove his fingers deeper.

  29

  The cold air blasted him and every joint in his legs ached, but Lucas was eager to put Sparky through his paces and show Jenna how far they’d come.

  She hovered close beside him in the garage, as she always did when Sparky was anywhere near. Not that he minded having her close.

  “At least he’s not jumping up on me,” she said, rubbing her arms briskly. “I figured I was dead meat bringing a plate of food out here.”

  “Nope, he won’t bother you until I give the command.”

  She looked up at him with a wry smile. “You sound like you’ve got plans to sic him on me.”

  He grinned. “Let me reword that. He won’t bother that plate of food till I give the command.” He rubbed the dog’s head. “He doesn’t eat until he works. That’s part of the training, so I’ve got to put him through the paces before he gets his reward.”

  “Poor baby.”

  “Hey, when he’s working, I’m working, so you should feel sorry for me, too.”

  Her brow puckered and she reached up and patted his cheek. “Poor baby.”

  “That’s better. Okay … watch this.” He positioned himself in front of the dog. “Sparky, sit.”

  The dog obeyed promptly, panting and wagging his tail, obviously eager to show off for their guest.

  Lucas put out a hand. “Stay.” Sparky stayed put. “Follow me.”

  Jenna kept her eyes trained on the dog.

  “Um … that ‘follow me’ was for you, not him.”

  She gave an embarrassed laugh. “How come he knew that and I didn’t?”

  “I guess you just have to be smarter than the dog.”

  “Hey!” But she laughed and obeyed his command, following him to the door that led to the backyard. He grabbed a canvas bag off a hook and handed it to her.

  She opened it and peered inside. “Tennis balls?”

  “Yep. See that?” He pointed to a row of plastic buckets lined up in front of the fence at the far end of the yard. “Go put one ball in each of those buckets. …” He pulled out the Ziploc bag containing the accelerant-doused ball. He unzipped the bag and held it up to her nose. “Can you smell that?”

  She took a whiff. “Not really … smells like a tennis ball.”

  “This is the test ball. It has one tiny drop of 50 percent evaporated gasoline on it. And it’s been in this bag for a week.”

  “He can smell that? One drop?”

  “A tiny drop. Almost microscopic. And not full-strength gasoline either—evaporated.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Here.” He handed her the plastic bag. “Put a ball in each bucket and remember where you put this one. Oh, and try to dump it out of the bag without touching it, just so you don’t risk getting the scent on you.” He grinned. “We don’t want it to be you he alerts on.”

  Her look of horror made him crack up. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’m training him to be a passive responder.”

  “As opposed to an aggressive responder.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I was kidding. Do I even want to know what an aggressive responder does?”

  “You’d probably still come out alive. Just barely.” He winked.

  “Gee, that’s comforting.”

  “An aggressive response is barking and digging. A passive response—well, you’ll see. Go place the balls and prepare to be amazed.”

  “Am I supposed to tell you which bucket this one is in?” She held up the plastic bag.

  “You won’t have to. Sparky will tell me.”

  She looked skeptical but jogged to the fence and deposited the tennis balls, then came back to stand beside him.

  It was nice having an assistant, and it would be a good test for Sparky to have to work with a distraction. Who was he kidding? He was the one distracted. Quite pleasantly so.

  He pushed off with his crutches and reached the garage door in two strides. He opened the door and gave a short whistle. “Sparky, come.”

  Sparky trotted after him, and Lucas waited until the dog came around and sat at his right side. “Okay, boy, it’s time to work.” He used his commanding “business” voice. “Show me, Sparky. Show me, boy.”

  Like a shot, Sparky headed for the fence. Within twenty seconds he’d alerted on the third bucket from the left, putting his nose on the ground in front of the bucket and waiting there for Lucas.

  “Was that the right one?” He had no doubt it was. Sparky had been almost 100 percent with his alerts from the day Lucas had started the training.

  “That was it,” Jenna confirmed. “That wasn’t a lucky guess?”

  “Nope.”

  “So he could do it again?”

  “He’ll do it all day if I ask him to,” he bragged. “Of course, we’ve only worked with two accelerants so far—gasoline and kerosene. But I think he’s got the nose for it. I’m pretty confident he’ll learn to alert on anything I teach him to.”

  “That’s amazing. So that day at the homeless shelter, he was strutting his stuff, huh?”

  He laughed. “I guess he was. Either that or just trying to impress you ladies.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Well, he didn’t impress me! He scared the daylights out of me.”

  He noticed she was still keeping her distance from Sparky, but she hadn’t climbed on any countertops recently that he knew of, and she wasn’t clinging to him the way she had before in Sparky’s presence. That was a definite downside of having a well-trained dog. He just might need to have a talk with Sparky about misbehaving a little when Jenna came around.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Lucas wiped the smile off his face. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

  She didn’t push him to explain. “Can we try it again?”

  “You don’t think he can do it?”

  “I’m just not going to be impressed with one time. How do I know you didn’t bury a hunk of steak under that bucket?”

  “How would I know which bucket you would pick? But fine,” he challenged. “Go put the ball in different one this time. And—”

  “I know, I know … don’t touch the test ball with my hands. Believe me, I’m not going to take a chance he’ll alert on my hand.”

  He chuckled. “Getting the lingo down already. I’m impressed.”

  Jenna gave him a smug grin.

  “How many substances do you have to train him for?”

  “According to the training center in Tulsa, there are at least a dozen different accelerants they train their dogs to detect.”

  “Wow.”

  Lucas gimped across the yard, and bracing himself with his crutches, he patted his good knee, giving Sparky the signal to collect his reward—an abundance of ear scratching and praise that he hoped Jenna couldn’t hear.

  But he
r giggles told him she’d heard every word.

  “I’ll have you know this is an important part of the training,” he hollered over his shoulder.

  Her footsteps crunched on the grass behind him. She stood beside him—but still a safe distance from Sparky. Keeping his eyes on the dog, he kept up the baby talk. “Good doggy. That’s a good boy. I think Miss Jenna is just jealous that she didn’t get the cootchie-cootchie-coo treatment.” He snuck a peek at her.

  She gave an exaggerated frown and mimicked him. “That’s right. Miss Jenna did such a good job hiding all those tennis balls so the big doggy could find the right one, and then the big doggy gets all the praise.”

  Grinning, Lucas pivoted to face her. “Poor baby …” He took her head in his hands and rubbed playfully behind her ears, talking baby talk exactly the way he had to Sparky.

  Her hair was silk beneath his hands, and he wove his fingers deeper.

  She stepped closer, and when she looked up, the expression on her face invited him to do what he’d wanted to do since the minute she’d walked through the door today.

  He obliged, pulling her close, whispering against her lips. “Is that better?”

  In reply she cradled his face between her palms and kissed him soundly. But when she shifted against him, he lost his balance. He caught himself and shuffled to regain a position that took his weight off his leg.

  Jenna pulled away. “Are you okay?”

  Trying not to wince, he nodded. “I’m fine. I just … landed on my bad leg.” Ha. Like he had a good leg. He grasped for words that would get them back to where they’d left off but came up blank.

  She backed away, brushing dried grass off her pants, obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

  Using his crutches for leverage, he hoisted himself up and reached for her again. “I’m fine, Jenna.”

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “I’m not sure I am.” She wriggled out of his grasp and walked back to the garage.

  Sparky took off after her, ready to play, but Lucas knew Jenna wouldn’t see it that way. “Sparky! No! Come!” He whistled.