Jake's Return

by Liana Laverentz

  No one in town seemed to have escaped some sort of damage. A horrifically high number of homes and businesses had been demolished. By the time the four-wheeler pulled up in front of Aunt Martha's Dutch colonial, Rebecca considered herself braced for anything.

  Except the total destruction of her home.

  Rebecca stared, unable to grasp what she saw. Her garage apartment no longer existed. In its place stood a huge pile of rubble. The nightgown she'd taken off that morning hung from a splintered elm tree, fluttering like a novelty flag in the evening breeze. Katie's Raggedy Ann doll lay atop Rebecca's bedroom dresser, which appeared to be intact, despite having fallen from the second floor. A lone corner of the first floor garage wall still stood, but beyond that, her home was gone.

  "Rebecca, I'm so sorry,” Matthew Hannon said from the seat in front of her.

  "Oh ... my ... God."

  "Mom? What are we going to do now?” A wide-eyed Katie asked from beside Rebecca in the back seat, her voice sounding very small and frightened.

  "Is there somewhere else I can take you?"

  Rebecca looked at Katie, then at Jake, sitting silently in the front passenger seat, then at Matthew Hannon. “Take us?"

  "To stay. Until you can."

  "Until we can what?” Rebecca asked numbly. Get this awful mess cleaned up? Rebuild? Find somewhere to else live—along with more than half the families in Warner? “I mean, no. I'm sure my aunt...” She looked over at her aunt's house and saw the west corner had been sheared off, leaving a gaping hole in the upstairs guest room and the living room where Aunt Martha had so proudly displayed her precious collection of red depression glass. “Oh no,” she cried softly. “It's gone. It's ... all gone. All that beautiful glass."

  A long silence followed, interrupted only by Jake's quiet, “You and Katie are welcome to stay at my house."

  She blinked at him in confusion. “Your house?"

  "It's still standing, from what I can see, so it can't be in that bad a shape."

  Rebecca looked past her aunt's rubble-filled pool and over the hedge to where Jake's freshly painted white house did indeed look as if it still stood intact. The second floor windows were blown out, but at least they were still windows.

  Matthew Hannon's cell phone rang. His wife wanted to know when he was coming home. Rebecca realized she was keeping him from his family. “I'm sorry. Thanks for the ride, Matt."

  He half-turned in his seat, to address both Rebecca and Katie. “Listen, I hate leaving you guys here like this, but..."

  "I understand. We'll be fine. Really."

  "You sure?"

  "I'll take care of them, Hannon."

  He looked at Jake, who met his gaze unflinchingly. A moment later, he nodded, seeming satisfied. He grabbed a note pad from the dash and wrote two numbers on it, then ripped the page off and handed it to Rebecca. “Here's our home number and my cell number. If you need anything, just give us a call.” He looked at Jake. “Same goes."

  Jake simply nodded.

  Matt half-turned to look at Rebecca again. “You want me to drive you around the block?” He meant drop her off at Jake's.

  "No.” Determinedly, Rebecca opened her door. “I want to check on my aunt. Thank you again, Matt."

  He looked from Rebecca to Jake, then back to Rebecca. “Thank you. Both of you. I don't know what I'd do without my little girls."

  * * * *

  Aunt Martha wasn't home. She'd left a note on the kitchen counter, inviting Rebecca and Katie to stay in her sewing room. Looking at Katie and Jake, who'd followed her into the house, Rebecca said to Katie, “Aunt Martha has offered to take us in, Katie. We can sleep in her sewing room. What do you think?"

  She'd always tried to give Katie as much say as possible regarding the decisions that affected their lives, and today was no exception. Rebecca believed that, like adults, children needed to feel they had some control over their lives to be happy. And at that moment, Rebecca would have done just about anything to keep Katie happy. Once her daughter realized what they'd lost...

  "Jake said we could stay with him."

  Rebecca turned to Jake, who suddenly looked as if he were on trial and she was about to pass judgment. “I know, and I'm grateful, but I'm not sure that's the best alternative. Jake is leaving again, and he wants to sell—"

  "I've got the room,” Jake interrupted. “You could each have your own bedroom if you wanted to."

  There was no hint of emotion in his voice, one way or another, but Rebecca knew Jake enough to know if he didn't want her and Katie there, he wouldn't have offered. Her heart jumped at the chance, but her mind held back. People were already talking.

  What would happen if she and Katie moved in with Jake? How would it affect Katie in the long run? What would Aunt Martha say? Rebecca adored her aunt and under different circumstances would have loved to stay with her, but this was Jake. Offering her and Katie shelter in his home.

  Katie. His daughter.

  Rebecca was sure he wouldn't invite anyone else to stay with him if she turned him down. By accepting his offer, she would leave her aunt free to offer her sewing room to someone else in need. She would also give Jake and Katie the perfect opportunity to get to know each other the way they were meant to know each other. As father and daughter.

  And what about her? What did she want?

  Rebecca wanted to stay with Jake. She wanted Jake, period. She always had. She'd lost almost everything else in her life. She wasn't going to lose either Jake or Katie if she could help it. Somehow she'd find a way to make all of this work out.

  She looked Jake in the eye. “All right. We'll do it."

  Chapter Nine

  "Good, the electricity and water are still running,” Jake said, testing each as they entered his house through the kitchen door. “You and Katie can have my bed for tonight. I'll sleep on the couch. Tomorrow we'll see about digging through those boxes downstairs for linens in the other rooms. I just need a few minutes to clean up the glass and put something over the windows.” He looked at Rebecca, who couldn't seem to pull her thoughts together. “Hey, you okay?"

  "I don't know,” she said honestly. “I'm not sure it's sunk in yet. I mean, I may have just picked my way past that huge pile of rubble out there, but..."

  Jake's expression softened, and for a heartbeat it looked like he might pull her into his arms. Instead, he smiled gently and said, “You've had a heck of a day, Becca. A heck of a shock.” Rebecca realized he was watching his language for Katie's sake, and was touched. But when his right hand came up to curl a stray tendril of hair behind her ear, Rebecca had to fight herself not to sway towards the comfort she knew he could bring her. That wasn't what this was about. This was about Jake and Katie spending time together. “Why don't you take a hot bath and relax?” Jake suggested softly. “Katie and I can throw something together for dinner."

  "Sure, Mom. Just leave everything to Jake and me."

  She looked from one to the other. The excitement that bubbled in her daughter's eyes told Rebecca that Katie, too, still hadn't absorbed the fact that her home had been destroyed. Clearly, Katie was dealing with it by considering it all one big adventure. Starring her new hero. Her father.

  Rebecca sighed, too weary to think anymore. She managed a grateful smile. “Thank you. I'll see you guys later."

  "I'll get you something to wear in a minute,” Jake called after her, reminding Rebecca she didn't even have a change of clothes—for herself or for Katie. Her suit was ruined. She'd never get the bloodstains out. Maybe in the morning they could salvage some things from the rubble.

  Nearly an hour later, she left the bathroom wearing one of Jake's black T-shirts and a pair of damp, but freshly rinsed panties. It was either that or go without.

  She slowed to a halt at the foot of the staircase. Katie was sound asleep on the living room couch, one slender arm wrapped around the Raggedy Ann doll Jake had apparently rescued. Fighting tears, Rebecca kissed her daughter's forehead and thanked God again fo
r sparing both Katie and Jake.

  Jake was heating canned soup and making peanut butter sandwiches. “She conked out on me ten minutes after you went upstairs,” he said as Rebecca entered the kitchen. “I threw her doll in the dryer for a while, long enough to get the worst of the wet out of it, anyway."

  Tears threatened again at the image of Jake slipping the treasured doll into her sleeping daughter's arms. Rebecca blinked rapidly. “Is she okay?"

  "She says she is. Just a little tired."

  "Maybe I should call the doctor."

  "Maybe you should listen to the doctor,” Jake said, not unkindly. “Katie needs rest. Unless she develops a fever or starts acting weird, she's probably fine.” He smiled, reminding her of the countless times he'd reassured her when they were kids, usually after a test she'd been convinced she'd messed up on.

  But this was no simple test. This was their daughter they were talking about.

  Jake's smile faded as he realized the enormity of the responsibility he'd undertaken. Katie and Rebecca living under his roof, under his protection. His child and his ... his what?

  Better to focus on his child for now. “Relax, Rebecca. I've had concussions. You'll get through this one just fine. Both of you."

  To keep from touching her, he turned back to his peanut butter sandwiches, then stilled as a thought struck him. He was going to have to be able to provide a hell of a lot more than peanut butter sandwiches for them. How was he going to manage that?

  "Here. Let me do that. You must be exhausted."

  Rebecca stepped up to the counter beside him, her arm brushing his as she reached for the peanut butter knife. Jake snatched it up and moved to the side, putting some space between them. “I'm fine."

  Stubbornly, he refused to give up the knife, refused to relinquish what little control he still had over his life. “I'd rather you rested. You're the one who's had the bad day."

  "And you're the one who bled all over the library then passed out at the hospital. Come on, Jake. Really. The bath worked wonders. But you haven't stopped moving all afternoon—with the exception of your twenty-minute nap at the hospital."

  "Was that all it was?"

  "Yeah.” She smiled. “So c'mon, Donovan, give me a break, here.” She pulled out a kitchen chair. “You need a rest and I need something to do to keep my mind off of ... you know ... out there,” she nodded her head in the direction of where her apartment had been. “Besides, it won't kill you to let someone else take care of you for a little while."

  "All right.” Gingerly, Jake lowered himself into the chair she'd pulled out for him. Covering the windows with plastic while Rebecca was in the tub had all but sapped the last of his strength. “Thanks. I was getting a little bushed."

  "I'm amazed you're still alive,” she murmured, and proceeded to finish making supper.

  Afterward, they did the dishes together. As they entered the living room, Jake insisted on carrying Katie upstairs. After he'd placed her on the bed, he opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a black T-shirt and a pair of cotton camouflage drawstring pants. He offered Rebecca the T-shirt for Katie to sleep in, kept the pants for himself, then excused himself to wash up while Rebecca dressed Katie for bed.

  He emerged from the bathroom in time to see Rebecca gently tuck the groggy seven-year-old in, then patiently wake her daughter to ask the questions the doctor had told her to ask. Regret coursed through him, strong and sharp, at seeing mother and daughter talk quietly like they must have for thousands of bedtimes over the years. He backed away from the door and went downstairs.

  Half an hour later he heard Rebecca's soft footfalls coming down the stairs. He stood at the kitchen sink, where he'd been watching the full moon rise, and swore softly. He'd hoped to avoid talking to Rebecca again tonight. His back, shoulder and hip hurt like hell and he felt too exhausted and raw for company.

  "She asleep?” he asked when Rebecca entered the kitchen.

  She paused in the doorway, frowning at his bare chest. Jake realized he hadn't given a second thought to putting on a shirt. Rebecca had seen him shirtless thousands of times.

  But that was before they'd started sharing space. Looking at her legs, the long, slender legs he'd done his best to ignore during dinner, Jake could see this was going to be a problem.

  Rebecca swallowed and cleared her throat. She looked very young and vulnerable with no make-up and her hair down around her shoulders. “Yes. She's asleep."

  "Any problems?"

  "No. Before she drifted off, she wanted to make sure I wouldn't worry about replacing our things. She's just glad we're all safe.” Her eyes filled with a soft, maternal pride, and Jake knew he'd made the biggest mistake of his life, inviting Rebecca and Katie to stay with him. How was he supposed to get through the next few weeks, knowing the two things he wanted most in life were right under his roof and he could never have them? “She's incredible, isn't she?"

  Damn. She was getting all misty-eyed again, and this time Jake wasn't sure she'd be able to win out over the tears. It had amazed—and relieved—him that she'd managed to hold it together this long. He tried to muster a smile of his own, and wished she'd go back upstairs to leave him alone with his aches and pains and mountain of regrets. “She sure is. Smart and strong and brave and beautiful. Just like her mama."

  Rebecca moved to the table, where she unnecessarily rearranged the salt and pepper shakers. “She also said to be sure and tell you thanks for letting us stay here, and for coming to the hospital to find her.” She looked up at him, her eyes clear and direct. “She sees you as her hero, Jake."

  Jake closed his eyes as a fresh wave of guilt swept through him. “I don't want to hear this, Rebecca. You know as well as I do I'm nobody's hero."

  "You saved our lives at the library."

  "I did what I had to. And that's what I'm doing with you and Katie."

  "You mean ... you wouldn't have offered to let us stay with you if...?"

  "If Katie wasn't mine? No. I wouldn't. Your aunt has more than enough room to keep you."

  "What if I'd denied Katie was yours?"

  "Then we both would have known you were lying."

  "How so? She doesn't look anything like you."

  "She doesn't have to. She has the Dillenger family birthmark. I've got one just like it. Inherited from my mother. Hers was on her left shoulder."

  Rebecca frowned. “But I've never seen..."

  "Mine's on my pelvis.” Jake touched his right side. “Just to the right of my family jewels."

  Rebecca's gaze dropped to the drawstring pants Jake had no intention of removing as long as Rebecca was within fifty yards of him. Almost immediately, she looked back up at his face, hers flushing. “Oh,” she said. “Oh."

  "Yeah, oh."

  Suddenly her eyes narrowed. “Why didn't you tell me?"

  Jake saw a fight coming and welcomed it. Bone-tired, hurting like a sonofagun and hungry for something he was never going to have, his voice took on an edge he didn't want to have to use on her, but knew he'd have to, to keep her at a distance. No telling what he'd end up saying, or promising, if she started crying again. “Seems to me that question ought to belong to me,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “If I recall correctly, in fifteen letters you never once mentioned you were pregnant with my child."

  Rebecca stared at him as her initial surprise changed into something darker. “So you did get them."

  "Of course I did.” Memorized every last one of them, too. He locked his gaze on hers. “Why didn't you tell me, Becca?"

  He'd expected her to flinch. Instead, a visible calm seemed to settle over her, unsettling Jake more than he would ever let on. “I was waiting."

  "For what?"

  "You."

  "Oh, give me a break."

  "I was! I came to Wyoming, Jake. I caught a ride to Denver with another student who was going home for Thanksgiving break, and caught a bus from there. I came to see you at the Laramie county jail. But you hadn't put any names o
n your visitor's list, so they wouldn't let me past the check-in desk."

  Jake stared, reeling. “You didn't."

  "I did. I stayed overnight and took a bus back to school. Maybe I should've stuck around for a few days, written a letter to see if you'd be willing to see me. But I was scared and almost broke and if I stayed, I didn't know how I was going to get back home."

  Jake's mind spun back in time as he realized she was telling the truth. “So that's what they meant. They told me I'd had a visitor, a young, pretty, female visitor, but I thought they were yanking my chain again.” He frowned, narrowing his eyes. “What do you mean you took a bus home? What happened to the student you caught a ride out there with?"

  "We didn't get along."

  Jake's mind leapt to the worst case scenario. Rebecca alone, him in jail. “Did he hurt you?"

  "No, but I wasn't going to get into a car with him again."

  Jake's guilt morphed into anger as he thought of the danger she'd put herself in for him, the vulnerability she'd suffered because of him. Eight long years of it. “For God's sake, Rebecca, what were you thinking?"

  "You don't want to know, Jake, you really don't."

  "You should have told me about her."

  "What difference would it have made?"

  "What difference would it have made? What difference would it have made? For one, I would have—"

  Fought like hell to get out of there. To come back to you. If I'd thought for one minute that you wanted a life with me instead of that rich dude you were planning to marry...

  Jake's thoughts slammed into him so hard all he could do was clench his fists against the pain and stare at her in stunned disbelief. He couldn't tell her that. If he told her that, he'd never leave Warner. “I ... I would have sent you money or something,” he ended lamely.

  "Money?” Rebecca repeated icily. “For what?"

  "For support, Rebecca,” he answered wearily. “What do you think?"

  She stared at him, long and hard. “You would have sent me guilt money?"