by Neesa Hart
She laughed. “That’s hardly your style.”
“I’m a real SOB when I get provoked.”
“I assure you, there’s no need to even give it a passing thought. I’m much better off without him. Can you really imagine me married to a congressman?”
“He was a jerk.”
“Probably, but I’d have been a jerk’s wife if I’d married him, so he did me a favor.”
Jackson didn’t comment. Cammy waited a few seconds, then prompted. “Jackson?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you going to tell me about Leo while we’re here?”
His arms tightened. “Tomorrow,” he promised. “When I’m stronger.”
nine
The conversation still ringing in his ears, Jackson led the way up a long hill to his favorite place on his parents’ farm. Breakfast had been an especially boisterous affair, with questions and laughter filling the confines of his mother’s kitchen. Twice he’d glanced at Cammy to see if she looked uncomfortable. She’d met his gaze with a slight smile and a reassuring nod. She was coping. As she always had.
Long after he’d kissed her good night at the door of her room, he’d lain in bed replaying the scene on the porch. She’d looked close to tears when he’d found her staring out into the night. He had a suspicion that the matter-of-fact account she’d given of her family life had barely touched the surface of long years of disappointment and sorrow.
Then she’d knocked him flat on his butt. It had taken more self-control than she’d ever realize for him not to simply carry her off to bed before she had time to change her mind. But there was a hell of a lot more about Cammy he wanted to know than he’d learn if he rushed her into a serious physical relationship. He was fairly impressed that he’d managed to figure that out while his hormones were moving from overdrive to light speed.
He glanced at her now. She showed no ill effects of their late night or any sign that she remembered what she’d told him. He stifled a frustrated sigh. “We’re almost there,” he told her.
She smiled at him. “You were right. It’s beautiful up here.”
He noted the slight flush on her cheeks and the way the sun glinted in her blonder than red hair, and he found himself in wholehearted agreement. “This was my favorite place when I was a kid. It’s a bit of a climb, but the view is worth the bother.”
They crested the hill. Jackson extended a hand to Cammy to assist her up the final few steps. When she reached the apex, he took a few seconds to savor the view, savor the sensation of sharing it with her.
“Oh, Jackson.” She gazed across the vista of the Shenandoah Valley. “It’s breathtaking.”
The light in her eyes made his mind go blank. He didn’t even resist the urge to kiss her. He drowned his senses in the exquisite sensation, relished the feel of her pressed close to him. Drank deeply from her fresh, sweet taste. When he finally raised his head, he released a long breath. “I’ve been waiting to do that all morning.”
Her laugh filled him with joy. “If the looks your father was giving me meant anything, I think he was waiting for you to do it all morning, too.”
“He’s a wise old guy.”
“He knows you very well.”
“I ran into him in the hall on my way to the shower. He told me he’d left me all the cold water.”
She tucked her face against his chest. “I’m glad you have them.”
As usual, her honesty had him reeling. He rubbed his hands up and down her back, smoothing the nubby cotton of her light sweater. “Me too.”
They studied the view for long minutes while Jackson contemplated his sudden lightheartedness. It had been months, maybe even years, since he’d felt this peaceful. When he’d finally drifted to sleep last night, he’d slept better than he had in all the months since Leo’s death. Cammy was good for him. He’d known that since almost the moment he’d met her. All he needed to do was find a way to show her how good they’d be together.
No matter what she’d said last night, he still felt her reticence. Each time he thought about how easily she could slip away, he had to fight down a wave of panic. He was a smart man, with an excellent talent for persuading people to trust him. The skill had worked for him all over the world. He had to make it work for her.
Drawing a deep breath, he tipped her away so he could look at her. “Wanna sit?”
She didn’t pretend not to know where he was headed. “If you’d told me, I’d have brought my rollout couch.”
“We won’t need it.” He guided her toward a large elm. “When I was a kid growing up here, we mostly just used this tree.” They reached the base, and he pointed to the branches. “Welcome to my sanctum.”
Fascinated, Cammy looked at the tree house, well-maintained despite its obvious age, then at Jackson. “Yours?”
“My nephews’ now, but yeah. Dad and I built it one summer.” He laughed. “Actually, he built it, and graciously pretended that I was helping. I think I bent most of the nails and cut at least half the boards too short.” He tilted his head to one side as he studied her. “Did you have a sanctum when you were growing up?”
“I didn’t have to go anywhere to find peace and quiet,” she quipped.
His expression remained intent. “Cammy—”
“Sorry. I’m doing it again. Old habits die hard.”
“You’re the most confusing woman I have ever known.”
He looked so baffled that she had to laugh. “At least I’m not boring.”
“Not even close.”
She nodded toward the tree house. “So, you wanna take the lead, or shall I?”
“Are you kidding? I haven’t gotten to lead since I met you. I’m not turning that kind of offer down.” He reached for the bottom rung of the ladder.
Cammy tapped a finger on the hand-painted wooden sign that read ABSOLUTELY NO GIRLS. “Should I be insulted or gratified?”
“My nephews added that. Believe me, I would never have come up with a rule like that.”
“I can imagine you always had a fairly healthy appreciation for the opposite sex.”
His expression turned devilish. “That. And I had three sisters who would have knocked me flat.”
Cammy laughed even as she realized she was losing a piece of her heart to the picture he was painting of his childhood. Jackson climbed several steps, then glanced at her. “Watch your step. The rungs are a little slippery.”
She waited until he had hoisted himself onto the platform before she began the climb. The tree house was well designed to provide maximum space among the large limbs. A few rungs of the ladder had her easing onto the first platform. Only then did she realize the complexity of the structure. Three levels, it resembled a pirate ship wedged into the thick branches of the elm. Jackson had advanced to the bow, which jutted out toward the sweeping vista of the valley. He held out a hand to her. Charmed by this scene from his childhood, by the morning, and mostly by him, she accepted it as she seated herself beside him.
For long moments, he held her hand in companionable silence. “I loved this place,” he finally said. “I used to dream here.”
“My dreams were about having a pony. What were yours?”
“They weren’t about watching an eight-year-old kid get killed and knowing I should have stopped it.”
Cammy slipped her arm around his waist and waited, sensing his internal struggle. Long seconds passed before he said, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not telling me that it wasn’t my fault.”
“Would you have believed me?”
“No.”
“I don’t like to waste words, even if they’re true words.”
His hand stroked her hair. He lingered at the curve of her ear, then trailed his fingers downward to gently caress her cheek. When he spoke again, his voice sounded raw. “Did I tell you how I met Leo?”
“No.”
“He stole my cassette recorder.” He made a slight sound that might have been a laug
h. “The kid was probably the best pickpocket in the city. He bumped into me, literally, outside this small grocery store, and before I knew it, he’d lifted my microrecorder and taken off.”
“Take anything else?”
“If I’d been carrying a wallet, I’m sure he’d have lifted it.”
“How did you catch him?”
“He caught me.” He looked at her then, and the shadows, she noted, had begun to cluster in his eyes, turning their color to the shade of a stormy sky. “The press corps had a regular hotel where we stayed. The locals knew it. Leo hunted me down that night and hurled the thing at me.” Jackson shook his head. “When he stole it, he thought it was a radio. It pissed him off when he found out that it didn’t play music. All it played was the sound of my voice.”
Cammy laughed softly. “My kind of kid.”
He nodded. “You’d have liked him a lot. He was sharp. He was also distrustful. He didn’t want to talk to me. None of the usual stuff worked.”
“You couldn’t bribe him with bubble gum and a snapshot?’’
“Not Leo. He wasn’t the kind of kid who’d fall for a simple trick. He was the oldest of five children. His father had been killed in the war. Leo took on a lot of responsibilities—the kind kids his age aren’t even supposed to know about. His mother worked several jobs, and he learned how to pick pockets so nobody in his family had to starve.”
“Hmm.” She waited again. She doubted he realized he’d put his arm around her shoulders and was nearly squeezing the breath out of her.
“He had a girlfriend. Bianca. She was sixteen.”
“I’ve always admired men who felt secure enough to date older women.”
She thought she felt some of his tension ebb. “I think that Leo’s life didn’t lend itself to insecurity. Surviving took courage and sharp wits. The more his family counted on him, the more he learned to depend on himself, and no one else.” He frowned. “He had magnetism. There was something about Leo that made people trust him.”
“Like you?”
“No. Leo made me curious. Emotionally, he was a grown man. He had a whole gang of boys who followed his lead. Everyone depended on him, and he always delivered. He never seemed to feel the pressure of meeting their expectations. Even Bianca—” Jackson shook his head. “He’d give her a few coins and send her off to buy something for herself while we talked ‘business.’ ”
Cammy laughed. “No wonder you were charmed.”
“I was. I couldn’t shake the feeling that a child was lost inside that confident facade. Something about that made me inexpressibly sad. It didn’t seem right that this kid’s life should have gotten preempted by things he barely understood. I kept digging, probing. I wanted him to trust me enough to show me who he was when no one else was looking.”
“Did he?”
“He resisted me for a while, but I wasn’t ready to let it go. He turned up too often not to make me think he wanted something. I was watching him scam an American Marine out of his watch when I realized my mistake.” He sat, silent for a moment. “Leo was used to people wanting things from him. He wasn’t used to having people respect him.”
Cammy’s hand glided over the scar on his palm. “But you did?” she prompted.
“I told him I needed to work a deal with him. He liked that. It felt like business. He sent Bianca to get us some coffee. He wanted to know if I wanted liquor in mine.”
“Did he take liquor in his?”
“Nope. He told me he never drank. Didn’t like the way it dulled his wits.”
“Smart kid.”
“Definitely. Once he realized I was serious about treating him like an adult—one who had something I wanted—he was willing to talk to me. I told him I needed a guide to show me around the city, help me find out what was really going on. I figured that nobody knew that city better than he did.”
“What did he want in return?”
Jackson gave her a slight smile. “It took me almost an hour to get it out of him. He resisted for a while. I could tell he didn’t want to tell me.”
“But he cracked.”
“Sort of. Actually, I cracked. I offered him a cigarette. He pointed out that I didn’t have any, and that he knew that because he’d picked my pocket before we sat down to talk.”
Cammy laughed. “No wonder you liked him so much.”
Jackson shrugged. “I think he decided he could trust me because I congratulated him on the excellent job he’d done in robbing me blind.”
“I can imagine.” She rubbed her cheek on his shoulder. “Did he agree to help you?”
“If I got him a transistor radio, he said he’d show me around.”
“How hard is it to get a transistor radio in Bosnia?”
“You have no idea.” He laughed, as if the warmth of the memory had eased some of the hurt. “Chris Harris almost killed me. I had him calling every delivery company in town trying to figure out how to ship one to me.”
She plied him with another question to keep him talking. “How did you get it?”
“American Marine on his way home. He sold it to me for twenty bucks.”
“And Leo became your tour guide.”
“Yeah. He hadn’t expected me to come through. In his experience, adults didn’t come through very often. When I produced the radio, it was like something incredible happened. It was one of the few times I ever saw him act like a kid. We must have sat on the curb for half an hour while he tuned in all the stations.”
“What kind of music did he like?”
“The Beatles.”
“They get the Beatles in Bosnia?”
“Honey, they get the Beatles everywhere. ‘I Wanna Hold Your Hand’ was his favorite song. He wanted to grow up and be a Beatle.” Jackson shook his head. “It was such a simple dream, the kind every kid should have. Leo’s life didn’t allow for a lot of dreaming. I didn’t have the heart to tell him there weren’t any Beatles anymore.”
“Things were bad.” She’d stopped asking questions and begun offering prompts. Professionally, she felt him sinking into the pseudo-trance her colleagues referred to as “disassociated recollection.” Personally, she felt him ripping her heart out.
“Things were bad,” he concurred. “His family lived in a one-room apartment in a building with more bomb holes than walls. The place was clean, relatively speaking, but everyone shared one bed. His mother insisted on feeding me each time I went there. I started dropping off bags of groceries to cover the expense. Leo didn’t like it. Charity bugged him. But he didn’t complain either.”
“I read your series. It was obvious that you cared for him very much. He was very engaging.”
He gave her a wry look. “You read my series?”
“I read the newspaper. I just don’t believe most of it.”
Gently, he pushed a lock of her hair off her cheek. “You’re right. He was engaging. An amazing kid with an incredible wit. Sharp, talented, bright. I loved to talk to him. I always learned something from Leo.” His expression turned rueful. “I’m even pretty good at picking pockets now.”
Cammy stroked his arm softly. His expression was beginning to darken. “Did you ever feel that strongly about another one of the kids you wrote about?”
He didn’t hesitate before he shook his head. “Never. Leo was unique. If he’d been raised in this country, he could have had every opportunity he deserved. Every door in the world would have been open to him.”
“But there aren’t many doors there, are there?”
“About the only hope he really had of getting out of that place was joining the army. There weren’t a lot of choices, and his family needed him. Hell, they couldn’t have survived without him.”
“You wanted to help him.”
His eyes drifted shut. “Desperately.”
She smoothed the frown from his forehead with her thumb. “It hurts when you can’t. It’s frustrating, and sometimes, it’s terrifying. I know how it feels.”
He met her gaze
again. “I guess you do.”
“The kids who come to my sessions—I want to do so much for them.”
“Wishing Star helps.”
“Sometimes. Not as much as I’d like. You saw it. You wrote about it. Look at Trevor. He has every advantage he can have. He’s got great parents. They love him. They have money. He’ll flourish. Then look at Amy. What’s waiting for her?”
“She told me she wants an implant so she can dance.” He tapped the box at her waist. “Like yours.”
Cammy’s eyes widened. “She told you? When?”
“At the session I attended. One of the volunteers interpreted for us. You were working with some other kids at the time.”
“I didn’t know. She’s never talked about it with me.
“Big dreams are like that. The less you talk about them, the less scary they are.”
Cammy felt herself move dangerously close to that emotional cliff. “No wonder.”
“What?”
“No wonder kids trust you. There aren’t many people who understand them like you do.”
With a shrug of his broad shoulders, he turned his gaze back to the valley. “All you have to do is listen.”
“I know. I listen for a living. But you have a gift. They warm up to you so fast.”
“Some people would tell you it’s because I’m the same age. It takes one to know one.”
She laughed. “I guess some would.”
Jackson inhaled a deep breath of the crisp air. “Unfortunately, I’ve seen too much to ever pretend I’m a kid again.”
“But you haven’t lost your wonder.” She tapped a finger on his chest. “That’s where it counts.”
Fixing her with an intent look, he captured her hand. “Dr. Glynn, that’s almost a compliment.”
“I’m feeling a little loose tongued at the moment.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Really?”
“Don’t get any ideas. You’re not going to divert my attention that easily.”
“I could try.”
“You’d fail.”
“Wanna bet?”
“No. I’d rather hear the rest of the story.”