Hailey let out another deep sigh. Her mom would come to realize this was meant to be.
Her heart burned with renewed determination. “And there’s no messing with what’s meant to be,” she promised with a determined tug of the heavy storm door leading into the kitchen of the home where she was raised.
CHAPTER TWO
He leaned forward and rested strong forearms across the padded steering wheel of his Jeep, stretching his neck from side to side. Jack Stinson felt like an escape artist.
“Escaped.” The word tasted ominous. But good.
He ground the word out again through clenched teeth. “Es … caped.”
His grip tightened on the steering wheel.
If it wasn’t for the Stinson stubborn streak he’d come by so honestly, he never would have lasted five years with his dad in the first place. Watching the business turn into something he didn’t recognize was torture.
“Something had to give. And it was no longer going to be me.”
He let his eyes survey the unfamiliar road before him. “I’m talking to myself,” he stated bluntly, slipping dark shades from his eyes to rest on top of his head.
“Who does that?” Squinting through weary eyes at the green pastureland around him, he kept on talking. “Anybody who’s been around Marshall Stinson too long, that’s who.”
Jack fought the dull ache in his heart. Deep down, he was more sad about leaving than he wanted to admit, even to himself. But if he’d stayed … if he’d stayed he’d have become another paper war casualty. Buried beneath mountains of forms and templates, waiting for the inevitable landslide. Buried and trapped. Never to be heard from again.
“Okay, now that’s real dramatic.” He covered his strained eyes once again with the shades. “I’m done with all that drama.”
The anxious drone of wheels against highway failed to drown the sound of his dad’s enraged voice. “You walk out that door, Jack, and you will no longer be worthy of the Stinson name. You forfeit all rights to Brown Aeronautics and to this family.”
It stung deep. But the rejection from his dad’s words was nothing compared to the pain in his mom’s eyes when she heard her husband’s harsh words for their oldest son.
Marshall Stinson was good at throwing out some pretty heavy verbal jabs. And Jack had shielded his mom and younger brother for a long, long time.
His hands held a death grip on the wheel. What his dad had managed to do to a four-generation family business should be illegal. It had become everything Jack hated. Now. Hurry. Fast. Faster. Cut corners. Cut quality. Shave a little integrity here and there.
“No!” One hand rose and beat down hard on the leather dash.
His nerves throbbed. The burden placed on him by his position as vice president of Brown Aeronautics — and by his father — had pushed him beyond human limits. It was hard to know what his limits were anymore. When his mom started insisting he get out, he knew it was past time to go. He never thought he’d hear that come out of her mouth.
Jack reached into the pocket of his sports shirt to retrieve the map he’d jotted down during an earlier phone conversation with Ms. Holman.
Hailey Holman. He let a light smile ease across his lips. What kind of boss would she be? If he got the job.
When they’d talked she seemed calm and straightforward. He could hear a smile in her voice. She just might be the Anti-Marshall Stinson.
Perfect!
He started to unfold the paper but returned it to his pocket instead. No need to check the map. Barnes exit, continue west off Highway 220, to FM Road 1207, right turn past the service station on the right, and down about six miles. Second house on the right.
After all, he was used to maneuvering himself around the big city of Dallas, nine miles from his hometown of Cryder. He certainly wouldn’t have any trouble getting around in a town the size of Barnes. As always, he’d done his research; less than eight hundred people lived there. The Stinsons had almost that many people working for them at Brown Aeronautics.
Hard to believe places like Barnes still existed.
He drew his lips in thoughtfully. A place like Barnes, Texas, could be exactly what he needed to get his life back. Goodbye, rat race.
Rolling down the window, Jack leaned his head into the wind. Air. Fresh air. Jack shook his head. In true Marshall Stinson style, his dad had kept him at the office well after midnight with a typical mountain of last minute “this can’t wait” paperwork. One last show of power. One last-ditch effort to control his son.
Dependable Jack. The responsible one. He’d never leave anybody hanging and his dad knew it. He knew he’d take care of everything before leaving this morning.
The air helped. Some. He pulled himself back upright and readjusted his shades. He already missed his mom and brother, Eric.
Man. Jack sucked in another deep breath and let it out slowly. And kept on driving.
In spite of the exhaustion he felt from the long hours and long drive, a restless energy overtook Jack. He’d given Brown Aeronautics all he had and now he felt worn out, burned out and stressed out; and he just plain wanted out.
“Let’s get this new life started.” Today.
He reached for the knotted muscles between broad shoulder blades and worked up and down his neck. That same stubborn tension spot had irritated him for months. Or was it years?
He drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel. If he’d wanted me to stay so bad, you’d think he’d open his eyes a little.
He drummed harder. He wanted me to be too exhausted to leave today.
The drumming stopped and he straightened his back.
Not a chance. Sheer determination and a hard head had kept Jack focused.
Jack left as planned. On time.
He made the last turn onto FM 1207.
“I’m going to stop thinking about it. Right now.”
He drove without a thought for half a second.
Keep peace in the family at all costs. Who’s going to do that now? What about the people I care about? They’ll have to contend with Dad on their own.
He was tempted to turn around. He could. If he wanted to. Which he certainly did not.
“People move on. Families move forward. I did what I had to do.” Then why did he feel like a rat?
He forced his eyes and his thoughts to return to the landscape around him. With every mile putting Cryder, Texas, behind him, he should expect to be more at peace. The tension should be somewhere back there in the dust. A distant memory in his rearview mirror.
Durn. Mom and Eric should have come with me.
If he could remember back far enough, surely he’d find childhood memories of snow cones and water gun fights on the back lawn.
His eyebrows arched in thought as he maneuvered down the road, trying hard to conjure up a memory. Any fun-being-a-kid memory.
“Nah. Not there.”
Jack traveled the last few miles in silence, his lips pulled into a straight, solemn line. He allowed his mind to slip into a semi-contented place.
Next stop: contentment. Tranquility. Like the beauty of the scenery in front of him.
“God be with you.” His mom had clung to him and blessed him with those words as he was about to leave.
God be with me.
Something between guilt and sadness worked at his heart. God had been forced into the backseat of his life years ago.
Backseat? Jack had to be honest with himself. More like the trunk.
“Well,” he reminded himself. “This is all about changing my life. Who knows … ” A light shrug lifted and dropped his shoulders.
And he saw it.
The white, one-story farm house on the right side of the road. Neatly trimmed trees and long, gravel drive. Had he seen this place before? He thought hard. No.
Maybe just in his mind, while picturing an ideal life.
Jack’s nerves started unwinding and he felt suddenly very comfortable. Instantly welcomed and at home. Two wooden swings facing each other caught his eye, hanging from gleaming silver chains on the front porch. The sight promised simple pleasures he’d missed for so long, like sitting around doing nothing except thinking and staring at the world around him.
He raked a hand through his hair.
Wooden swings beckoning to me? I must be even more starved for tranquility than I realized. He felt his neck tighten again. Downright ridiculous. That was his dad’s favorite saying for anything that wasn’t his own idea or didn’t revolve around Brown Aeronautics. But sometimes it fit Jack’s own state of mind, too.
Jack turned into the driveway, trying not to let one inch of these new surroundings escape his notice. Old Jack stayed back in Cryder, head down, full-steam ahead. New Jack was determined to enjoy the beauty of the emerald grass alongside the driveway. Something he’d come to take for granted back home.
Ah, this was his idea of a tranquil place to enjoy life. The winding yellow brick path along the front of the house lined with periwinkles and roses. And begonias, his mom’s favorite. The railed porch stretched the full length of the front of the house, holding those two wooden swings and a well-used oak rocker.
He continued to roll his Jeep up the drive, where a full-grown chocolate Labrador Retriever stood guard on the top step, eyeing the approaching vehicle with more than a passing interest.
This is living, he marveled. He let out a low whistle and tried to contain his eagerness.
As he was about to tap his brake, the scene shattered dramatically as a young woman bolted through the front door with an ear-piercing shriek he heard even with his windows up. The storm door closed steadily behind her.
The Lab hopped around her legs, taking his eyes from Jack’s whereabouts for a mere second.
Jack stopped, turned the ignition to off and reached for his briefcase on the seat next to him. Opening the Jeep door, he stepped onto the gravel drive, not taking his eyes from the raucous on the porch.
The crunch of rock beneath his feet made him grow more anxious.
The woman glanced his way at the sound of his car door closing. She waved, keeping one hand free to continue her romp with the dog. “Come on up,” she yelled, motioning for him to open the milk-white iron gate at the end of the walkway.
Jack’s attention turned from the enormous dog and settled on the young woman with the shoulder length dark hair. She stood comfortably in well-worn jeans and denim work shirt.
He moved closer, taking a moment to readjust his eyes from the beauty of his surroundings to the beauty of the vibrant, smiling woman standing before him.
What a picture, he marveled to himself. A gorgeous — and unexpected — picture.
• • •
With surprised interest and her pulse beating a little quicker, Hailey regarded the man approaching the walkway of her childhood home.
She gulped hard.
This guy didn’t look anything like his voice sounded. Not that she was in the habit of speculating about voices and faces. But Jack Stinson … hello!
She issued herself a stern reminder. Not interested. Remember?
The full extent of her interest was that this guy who responded to her ad in Flyer’s World was a good mechanic. And a good person.
She’d never settle for less than a good, hard-working employee. And he had to be a Christian. Handsome was not on her list of employee qualifications.
He’s really, really attractive.
Heat crept from her collar bone to her forehead.
She shoved the absurdity of the thought aside. So, he was nice looking. Big deal.
She took a few steps toward him, with the Lab matching her closely, step for step.
“Jack Stinson.” She extended her hand and offered a welcome smile. She wanted to release his hand quickly.
She didn’t.
Her cheeks colored again. Am I staring?
“Miss Holman?” Jack returned her stare openly after shifting a brown leather briefcase to his left hand and clutching her outstretched one. “Miss Holman?” he repeated.
“That’s me. Miss Holman. Hailey. Hailey Holman. Call me Hailey.” She released her grip on his hand and stooped to give the brown dog an affectionate tussle on the head. That sounded lame, she admonished herself.
“And this here is Kisses. Hershey Kisses.” She kept her eyes on Jack.
At his name, Kisses jumped playfully at the stranger. Jack stepped back, briefly surprised by the exuberant friendliness. He reached out to offer a brief pat to the big, sturdy head.
“Kisses, down!” ordered Hailey. She cast a glint of surprise her dog’s way. “You big hound. You know better than that. What’s wrong with you? Sit!” She tucked a wisp of dark hair behind her ear. “You must really have a way with animals, Jack. Kisses doesn’t take to just anybody. He really likes you.”
Kisses seated himself obediently at Hailey’s feet, peering up at her through doting eyes.
“I’m sure glad he likes me. He’s a big, big dog.” Jack reached out to stroke the dog’s head again, apprehension giving way to obvious admiration.
“Yeah, he’s a monster.” Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “I think you’re safe though; he’s still pretty full from eating the meter reader this morning.”
“He’s a very beautiful dog. You really shouldn’t make him out to be such a brute.”
“You’re right,” she teased. “He’s very sensitive. I shouldn’t hurt his feelings. Especially while the two of you are bonding.”
She regarded Jack with genuine interest. Stick to business. Don’t get personal. Don’t get into his personal life. Mechanic. Good person. “You didn’t grow up around animals, did you, Mr. Stinson?”
Well, sticking to business lasted about a micro-second.
“No, not at our house.” He scratched Kisses behind an ear to the dog’s obvious delight. “My father thought pets were useless. If there wasn’t a way for them to make you money, there was no reason to have them around.” He shifted his hand to the dog’s other ear. “Maybe if he could have figured a way to put them on the assembly line we could have had a house full of them.”
“That’s sad.” She offered him a sympathetic smile. “I couldn’t imagine growing up without pets.”
He shifted his attention fully to her. “My mom rescued a cat once. Just a kitten. Under the hood of her car, if you can believe that. White with the most distinctive gray paws. Ended up giving it to my grandparents, but it was fun for the whole two hours we had it.”
“Did you ever get to play with it again?”
He nodded at her, a little like she was a co-conspirator in his big deception. “Snuck over when my dad was out of town a couple of times. They had that cat for years.”
“We’ve had dogs, cats, birds, fish, hamsters, turtles, horses, and Chester. The goat.”
“That must have been interesting.”
“It was.” Her mischievous laughter rippled the air. “My father let Chester in the house one time and you should have heard my mom. On second thought, maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t. Poor Chester ended up under the kitchen table, terrified. And when animals get excited or scared … ugh. They make a mess.”
Jack offered her a wide grin. “I could only imagine what would have happened at my house.” He raised his eyebrows inquiringly. “Where’d you come up with Hershey Kisses for this guy’s name?”
“You might as well know.” She met his grin head-on. “I have a significant addiction to chocolate.” She tousled the dog’s ears again. “Doesn’t he remind you of a humongous chocolate bar with teeth?”
Kisses appeared to be smiling, and with his tongue hanging out of his m
outh, the clear view of sharp white teeth contrasted with rich brown coloring.
“Hershey Kisses,” he repeated. “I like that. All kidding aside, I’m sure he’s a great watchdog. Look at the size of those teeth.”
“Personally, I rarely put kidding aside.”
His expression questioned her.
“I was making a joke, Jack. You know, ha. L-O-L. A joke.”
He shifted his briefcase to his other hand. “Okay. That was a good one.”
She clasped her hands in front of her and rocked back on her heels. Her humor seemed to be underwhelming him. Or Jack Stinson was playing hide-and-seek with his sense of humor. Maybe he was just as anxious as she was to get on with the interview. Maybe she should force herself to tear her stare away from that strong, square jaw and the dreamy eyes she knew had to be hiding behind his shades.
She refocused herself, boldly meeting his gaze without a shred of interest.
Somewhat.
Maybe his seriousness wouldn’t be so bad, she reasoned. Her mom might like his maturity. Maybe his serious side would help her get past the dark wavy hair and dimple in his left cheek. Maybe she’d just see him as strictly an employee.
What color are his eyes? She strained to see through the dark tinted glass of his sunglasses.
Oh, who cares, she reprimanded herself. The important thing was that he could do the work. As long as he was willing and able, he was her man. Or the business’s man.
Jack’s deep voice redirected her thoughts. “When I drove up it looked like you were in some sort of distress.”
“Oh, that’s right. I was in distress. Actually,” she pushed her hair back, “I was squirting lime in a glass of iced tea, and a stream of juice flew into my sister’s face. Accidentally, of course.” She chuckled. “I’d never do anything like that on purpose. So, my sister maliciously grabbed a lime to retaliate, and that’s when I ran outside. I think you’re the one who saved me when you drove up.” She kicked the urge to add “My hero” to the curb.
“I’m glad I was on time then.” He offered her another solemn nod.
Broken Wings, Soaring Hearts Page 2