A Helluva Man (Hell Yeah!)

by Sable Hunter

  But Richard Grayson no longer had those talks with his daughter.

  There were no more daily texts to check up on her or harp about a routine he’d mapped out. Tamara was sure she saw disappointment in his eyes when he looked at her now. His dreams for her and a second chance at glory for the Grayson family were long gone.

  She had aphasia. The loss of ability to understand or express speech, caused by brain damage. Before her accident, she couldn’t remember having heard the term before. Now, the seven-letter word defined her existence.

  * * *

  Tamara’s sudden appearance out of nowhere had been a jarring experience for Jaxson. When he’d spotted those gorgeous, familiar eyes, the shock had stolen his breath and sent him into a tailspin. Now as he sped toward her house, he struggled against the urge to pin the gas pedal to the floor.

  In the last few months, there was no telling how many times he’d driven by her place. Not once had he seen a light burning or any sign someone was living there. Once he’d found the courage to walk up to the door and knock, but a neighbor had taken pity on him and told Jaxson she hadn’t been home in weeks. For all he knew, she was competing in races and working for sponsors. Several times, he’d been tempted to look her up on the internet, but the sight of her doing things with other people only made him sadder.

  When he arrived at the small bungalow house, he parked in the drive, and yanked the visor down to look in the mirror. “Damn, Jax,” he cursed his reflection, trying to tame the unruly locks on his head. Pushing the visor back into place, he sat for a moment, wondering if he should turn around and drive away. Every terrible word he’d said to her the last time they’d talked still rang in his ears. And judging by the way Tamara high-tailed it out of the meeting, she’d quickly changed her mind about seeing him.

  No matter what he should do, Jaxson found he couldn’t leave. The pull he felt toward Tamara was just too strong. Yes, he’d semi-gotten his life back on track, but a day never went by that he didn’t think of her. She haunted him. Walking away from her now was impossible.

  Pushing the truck door open, he strode up to the house to knock on the door. Standing tall, he wondered if she could look at him and tell he wore a prosthetic. Of course, he couldn’t expect her to have forgotten he lost his leg, but he didn’t want her to look at him and that fact be the first thing to cross her mind.

  When nobody materialized to answer the door, Jaxson moved to one side to peer through the window. On the coffee table he could see a can of Dr. Pepper and a stack of books. Seeing Tamara at the meeting told him she was in town but spotting the soda can where she’d left it, told him she was living here.

  So, he’d beaten her to the house. “No problem. I can wait.” Smiling to himself, Jaxson took a seat on the steps.

  She had to come home some time.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The back of the bus was Tamara’s sanctuary. From here, she could blend in. Normally, no one spoke to anyone else. Everyone had some place to be and getting there was all that mattered. This truth was turned topsy-turvy when an older black woman sitting across the aisle from her reacted to a long sigh she let escape from her lips.

  “Are you okay, dear?” she asked, clutching an oversized purse on her lap.

  Tamara forced a smile in return. “I’m. Fine.”

  No matter if the words came easier because she was calmer – they were still a lie. She was anything but fine. She’d spent the last three months of her life navigating through unknown waters. Today, she’d almost drowned. Seeing Jaxson had ripped the life raft of serenity right out from under her.

  “That’s good. I was wondering if you had the time?”

  “Yes.” Pulling her phone from her pocket, Tamara looked down at the screen, hoping she could make heads or tails from what she could see. Numbers often appeared to be backwards or even upside down to her. She stared at the display, willing her brain to interpret them. A touch of panic flashed through her. “Come…on, you…know.” Staring at the digits, she knew their value, she knew how they related to one another. Heck, she could even square them. She just couldn’t make the name for them move from her brain to her lips. “One…” In disgust, she puffed out a breath and turned to hold her phone out to the lady so she could see for herself. “Sor…ry.”

  “Oh, that’s okay, honey.” She adjusted her glasses on her nose and peered at the time. “Eleven-fifteen. I’ll get home in time for my favorite soap.”

  Tamara rubbed her eyes, hoping the woman would think her vision was the problem, not the short-circuited wires in her brain. “I’m…sorry.” Tamara’s doctor had warned her that stress or agitation of any kind would make her symptoms worse and seeing Jaxson was the epitome of stress.

  Thinking of the time, Tamara remembered she was scheduled to go to work. She had just enough time to get home and grab a bite to eat before she hiked over to Hill County Stables. Getting a job had been paramount to helping her through these uncertain times. Where her father was disappointed in what she was now, her mother seemed to see Tamara as a project and being occupied meant less time her mother could spend practicing special education techniques on her.

  This particular job might not give her the same satisfaction as what she used to do, but it did give her purpose and helped allay the fears about whether or not she could ever be independent and handle responsibility again.

  The battle with her parents had been epic when she informed them she planned to move back into her house and live on her own. “I. Need, This,” Tamara had insisted. “Need…live on – my – own. Need to get…job and be…own person.”

  “But Tamara, darling, you need to be at home where we can take care of you,” Sheila had insisted.

  Tamara considered it for about half a second. She already felt like a burden and she hated the feeling. She would rather struggle to live on her own in a house she’d paid for, than stay and be looked after like a child at someone else’s inconvenience. The job at the stables offered her the opportunity she longed for in the face of this seismic shift in her life. The work might be menial and back-breaking, but she seldom had to interact with people. Instead, she spent most of her time with the horses. And they didn’t judge her.

  Since her release from the hospital, she’d become a recluse, even changing her phone number and abandoning social media. Turning inward, she shied away from most interactions, afraid people couldn’t accept the new Tamara. Maddox, Storm, and Clare had repeatedly reached out to her, but each time she begged off, not wanting to intrude on their increasingly busy lives.

  Joseph understood her reaction better than most, he’d told her. Her former sponsor had agreed to keep her secret, but he’d also encouraged her to contact him at any time. For any reason.

  So many things from her old life were out of her reach now. Sure, she could function like a somewhat normal person, but after being a triathlete, who would be satisfied with just being able to walk without falling down? Even the piano in the corner of her living room mocked her on a daily basis. She’d loved to play, but now her efforts sounded like a child taking their first lesson. No longer did her fingers move swiftly across the ivories, sending dulcet tones floating through the air. Now the music she made was labored and choppy, an assault on the ears of anyone who might pass close enough to hear.

  Near the piano, a few pots of wilted flowers sat on a window ledge. Tamara knew she should throw the plants out, but she continued to give them water and fertilizer, hoping they would come back to life, the way she hoped she would – someday.

  Mostly now she stayed to herself, going to work each day, then coming home to watch television or listen to a book on tape. She recalled an especially vicious disagreement when Sheila Grayson had showed up one day with a load of books.

  “You…know. I…have. Trouble – reading. Mother,” Tamara had muttered as her mother sat the box on the kitchen counter.

  “Oh, I know Tamara, but it never hurts to try.” Just another example of how her mother treated T
amara like a project.

  Shoving the box across the counter, Tamara had looked at her mother with dismay. “Why? Put…me in – position? Ask-ing. Me. Impossible?”

  She’d apologized for her self-pity since then, knowing her mother was just trying to help. Even though Tamara hadn’t attempted to read any of the books, she left a few out on the coffee table so her mother could see she appreciated the gift.

  Calmness was her friend now. When she got nervous or panicky, her problems worsened. Stress caused her speech to deteriorate and her stutter to be more pronounced. Under times of duress she struggled to get her words out and the fear of making a fool of herself increased. The whole thing was a vicious circle. Her fear over being stressed led to stress. At first, the reaction had been uncontrollable, but each day she reined in the impulse a little easier than the day before. Oh sure, she had her moments. She’d been a mess at her job interview, but instead of running away in shame, she’d steeled herself and disclosed her disability, not wishing the person interviewing her to be left wondering what was wrong. In the end, they’d looked beyond her faults and hired her. So far, the issues with her speech and reading hadn’t been an issue at work.

  Today, however, seeing Jaxson had sent her into a tizzy and she couldn’t get off the bus and home fast enough to suit her. Stepping off a block away from the house, Tamara watched the ground at her feet as she made her way down the sidewalk on the far side of the street. Focusing to put one foot ahead of another on the walkway helped to keep her mind occupied.

  “Sorry. Mom. Hope…fully, won’t. Break. Back,” she whispered with a giggle as she stepped across each crack in the sidewalk.

  By the time she was crossing the street to enter her driveway, Tamara’s nerves had calmed considerably. But all that Zen focus was stripped away when she glanced up and saw a giant slice of Texas cowboy sitting on her steps. There was no way she could mistake his identity. He’d starred in her every fantasy since the day his Stetson had blown into her path. Jaxson McCoy was seated on her stoop and Tamara’s heart instantly began to thunder in her chest.

  Stopping in her tracks, in the middle of the street, she weighed the possibility of escape. She’d won a gold medal in the damn Olympics. Surely, she could extricate herself from this disastrous situation.

  After a moment’s consideration, Tamara hung her head. Running away wouldn’t solve anything, she would only look ridiculous and Jaxson would probably just follow her. After taking a deep breath, she made her way to where Jaxson was now standing in the front yard.

  …Jaxson held his hat in his hands. God, she was pretty. Not that he’d forgotten for one moment how gorgeous Tamara Grayson was, he just hadn’t seen her in person for what felt like an eternity. Seeing her now made him fully aware just how much he’d missed her.

  Taking measured breaths, Tamara tried to force the tension from her body. This was something she’d have to get past --- perhaps she could fake it. God, please don’t let me babble like an idiot. Staying calm was essential. Her doctor explained her condition by comparing her brain to a circuit board – agitation made everything short out. Avoiding agitation was essential.

  “Tamara.” Jaxson was grinning ear to ear. “How nice to see you again.”

  Tamara responded slowly. “Hello – Jaxson. You look…good.”

  He took her slow speech as surprise at finding him at her house. “You do too. I was surprised to see you today. When did you get back in town?”

  “I ar…rived – ah,” Tamara broke off, licked her lips, then closed her eyes in mounting shame. “I ar…rived.” She wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed, wishing she could disappear. She wasn’t like other people, not anymore. Bowing her head, she whispered. “Just… Give. Minute.” Tamara stared at the ground, trying to focus, trying to combat the torrent of nerves blasting through her body.

  Jaxson took a step back. She seemed nervous and he could understand it, he knew his own heart was racing a mile a minute. More than anything, he wanted to reach out and touch her, place a hand on her dear cheek, caress it just one time to see if her skin was possibly as soft as he remembered her being.

  Looking up at him briefly, she offered a pained smile. Suddenly, it dawned on Jaxson that maybe she was meeting someone here. “Geez, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just shown up like this. I should go.”

  Tamara’s heart sank when he moved to step past her. She looked down at his leg, in awe of how well he was walking. If she didn’t know better, she never would’ve thought the man in her presence was missing part of his leg. “Wa…wait!” Seeing him had thrown her brain into overload and Tamara hated the feeling, but the idea of him simply disappearing from her life again was not what she wanted either.

  “I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry. I can tell you don’t want to see me. I should go.”

  “I…I…I.” She what? What could she tell him? That she’d suffered a brain injury that would make him want her even less than he already did? Tell Jaxson that each day she was learning better ways to keep her stuttering and stress levels manageable and that just the sight of him had sent her back to square one? Tamara felt like the delicate house of cards she’d been building now lay in a shamble on the ground.

  The thought that Jaxson would see her like this was heartbreaking, but not half as heartbreaking as the thought of never seeing him again.

  “What have you been up to?” Jaxson asked to break the silence.

  “Not mu…much. How? You?”

  Jaxson couldn’t believe she was nervous enough to be stuttering, but he knew they had an awkward past and her unease was understandable. “Listen. Tamara.”

  “I – missed…you.”

  Jaxson’s face broke into a wide smile and Tamara felt her heart clench in her chest. The man was just as handsome as she remembered him being.

  “I missed you too, baby.” The endearment slipped out before he could call it back.

  She wanted to jump into his arms and tell him how much she’d ached for him. Tell Jaxson McCoy how he’d hurt her more than anyone ever had in her life, but she still was in love with him. Sure, any sort of outburst would be the epitome of pathetic, but that’s how she felt. The chance he was here to pick up where they’d left off before his accident was impossible. He’d been crystal clear about his feelings for her before. She hadn’t been good enough for him then, what would he think of her now? She wasn’t just a flat-chested tomboy with rough hands and no social standing, now she was damaged goods. The most likely scenario was that he’d heard what happened to her and was here to offer his support as a friend and nothing more.

  “I was – surprised – to see you. Leading – group.”

  “Are you out of breath? Do you need to sit down?” When she shook her head no, he answered her question. “Yea, I’m probably the last person anyone would expect to be facilitating a support group – but I like it. The sessions helped me a lot. Look, can I come in? Maybe we could have a Dr. Pepper and talk for a bit.”

  “I. Can’t…Jax-son.” Even though rejecting him before he had a chance to reject her was her best move, that wasn’t what she was doing. “I have to – do…work.”

  “Oh. Okay. Can we talk sometime soon?” The need to see her again was strong. “Just to catch up?”

  Tamara again looked at the ground, hoping to regain focus. “Maybe. I…I do…don’t know. I’m…biz-zy.”

  “Can I call you?” Jaxson felt pathetic, he was practically begging just to get a few minutes with her, but he wanted it more than anything.

  “Need. Think abo…about it.”

  “Oh. Okay. I get it.” She hadn’t forgiven him. She never would. Jaxson nodded and started to walk off. “It was good to see you again.”

  Tamara couldn’t bear to watch him go. She whirled around and moved toward the house as quickly as possible. Climbing the steps, she could feel the tears coming. Once she was through the door, she slammed it behind her and sank to the floor, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

&n
bsp; * * *

  Jaxson walked through the front doors of Seton in a daze.

  “Most of them are already gone,” a pretty young nurse in bright white shoes said as she approached him in the hallway. “A few are still lingering and talking, but not many.”

  “What?” Jaxson stopped beside her. “Sorry. I mean. Pardon me?”

  “I said most of your group has already left.”

  “Oh, yea.” The nurse seemed familiar, but she wasn’t one he was used to seeing at this time of day. “Do I know you?”

  “We met on the elevator not too long ago. I’m Julie.”

  “Right.” He dry-scrubbed his face, trying to get his head in the game. Seeing Tamara again had turned his entire world upside down, even if their reunion hadn’t gone as well as he’d planned in his head on the drive to her place.

  The young nurse placed a hand on his forearm. “Are you okay, Jaxson?”

  Jaxson looked down at her hand and back up to the girl. She was a sweet little thing, but he hadn’t fallen off the turnip truck yesterday. This woman was seeing an opportunity to bond with him and maybe create a spark and she was taking it. Hell, he’d pulled the same stunt with women dozens of time. “Sorry, Julie. I’m not myself today. I just ran into someone I haven’t seen in a long time and she’s all I can think about.” Yes, even after everything they’d been through, his heart was still with Tamara, and seeing her today reaffirmed that truth to him.

  “Oh.” The one word told him she’d gotten the message.

  “Daniel Blackhawk isn’t one of those hanging around, is he?” Jaxson asked, hoping for a friend to talk to, for no other reason than giving his brain something to focus on other than Tamara for a few seconds.

  “Mr. Blackhawk left with that little cutie, Owen. A while ago, actually.”

  Jaxson shook his head and gave her a weak smile. “Of course.” He pointed down the hall. “I forgot my laptop. I’ll just go grab it and be on my way. Have a nice day.”