Unspoken Words (Hope and a Future Book 1)

by Janna Halterman

  “And what side are you on?”

  “Not theirs,” Liam answered. “Now go. She’s outside.”

  He fought his way through the crowd and outside. When he saw her, his heart broke. She sat on a bench with her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook slightly and he knew she was crying, and he was the cause of it. She hadn’t even bothered to get her coat. He had ruined everything and was in danger of losing her forever. What had he done?

  At first, all he could hear as he walked towards her was the crunch of snow under his feet and a freezing wind blowing slightly. But as he got closer, the soft sniffling of her weeping sent knives through his heart. She didn’t look up when he approached her.

  “Evelyn,” he spoke, draping her jacket over her shoulders. “Before I say anything else, or do anything else, or risk losing you any further, you need to know how I feel about you.”

  She looked up now, but kept her eyes off his. Her face was wet with tears and red with embarrassment. “I don’t need to know anything. I have no right to act this way. You’re not mine, and you have every right to be with whoever you want to be with.”

  “I don’t want to be with Sarah. I want to be with you.”

  Evelyn meant to stand and leave, quickly. She only managed to stand, and slowly. Her body was shaking. She didn’t know if it was from the bitter cold or crying. And where would she go to anyway?

  “Tonight was a mistake,” she confessed, trying in vain to compose herself. “I knew I cared too much for you. I thought… I hoped… But I know you don’t see me like that. I don’t mean to be ungrateful, you’ve done so much for me, but, maybe if you want to see Sarah, could you guys spend time at your house and not ours?” Her head was a fog, and her heart hurt.

  “Evelyn! Listen to me.” Jackson couldn’t believe she still didn’t understand. “I don’t want to spend any time with Sarah. Ever. I want to spend all my time with you. You’re my best friend, but you’re more than that to me. Do you understand?”

  Evelyn was dizzy now. She had dreamed of this, of him saying those words to her, but not after kissing someone else. Anger began seeping into her with the pain; anger she had no right to feel, but wasn’t strong enough to fight. How could he kiss someone else if he really liked her? “I don’t understand. First, you kissed me in front of Tom. Now, you’re kissing Sarah in front of me. Is it a game to you?”

  “I’m not playing a game,” Jackson argued. “The kiss with Sarah didn’t mean anything. It was a mistake.”

  She just looked at him, replaying what he had said in her head. ‘It didn’t mean anything.’ How could it not mean anything? How could saying so make it any better? His words just made it all worse. The pain. The embarrassment. All of it.

  “I’m so sorry, Evelyn.” He sounded desperate.

  “You’re sorry?” she whispered. “I wish I didn’t care.” Her sad eyes found his. “Do you know what it felt like to see you with her? I already had to watch you dance with her tonight. I saw how you longed for her, saw how low your hand rested on her back. And then you kiss her! And now you tell me it didn’t mean anything, and you have feelings for me? Me, who you brought home to your parents for Thanksgiving and who you were going to take with you for Christmas, and spent hours upon hours with but never told this to before just now?”

  Jackson had never seen her angry like this before. “She kissed me, Evelyn, I didn’t…”

  “You kissed her back, Jackson!” She was screaming now and didn’t care. “Do you remember what I did when Tom tried to kiss me? I hit him, and I ran for my life. You weren’t even around then, and still, I ran from him because he is poison. And just tonight Liam offered to kiss me to motivate you. Did I let him? No. Because he’s not you.

  “I saw you, Jackson Monroe. Don’t you dare try and lie to me. You kissed her back! You let her rub against you! Your hands held her steady to do so!” She couldn’t think straight she was so broken. Rage. Jealousy. Anguish. They engulfed her as sobs ripped through her. She was going to be sick.

  It was torture seeing her like this, knowing she was right. He had stopped thinking for a split second when Sarah pressed against him and he remembered all the sinful pleasures of his past. Now it seemed he had destroyed what he treasured most.

  A Patrol officer passed by and called out to them. “Is everything alright, sir?” Even here his status was known. He was known.

  Jackson forced his eyes away from Evelyn to answer the officer. “Yes, thank you.” The officer left without even glancing in Evelyn’s direction. When Jackson turned back toward Evelyn, her hands were trembling, though she tried to hide it.

  Her head bowed and her gaze was cast down, unwilling to look upon him. “Everyone listens to you, don’t they? They do whatever you tell them to.”

  “Not everyone.”

  “They do, Jackson,” she nodded. “I’ve lived with Sarah a long time…long enough. I can’t dance like her.” She lifted her eyes to his, shifting her body to draw his attention to it. “I don’t look like Sarah.” She took a step towards him. “But I know enough to play the part.” She closed the space between them and lifted her hand, meaning to run it up his chest…but touching him broke her. “But I don’t want to be her. And I don’t want you to ask me to do the things she does.”

  With her body, she meant to tease him, to mock him; but in her eyes there was no malice, only sadness. He took her shoulders. “I don’t want you that way.”

  Evelyn’s voice was quiet, full of the depth of pain she felt. “I think that is exactly right. You don’t want me. You want her.”

  She was talking madness! She had to listen to him. “Evelyn, I don’t want her, or anyone like her. I want you! I want you in every way a man can want a woman. Can’t you see that?”

  Evelyn could see that he meant it, but she’d seen how he responded to Sarah’s lips, and her body. Tears were streaming down her face again. Her heart was broken. “I love you, Jackson, so much it hurts. And now it just hurts worse.” She turned to leave but he caught her arm, pulling her into him. He wrapped one arm around her and cupped her face with his hand. His touch tore at her heart.

  He spoke softly, his voice rough with emotion. “You love me.” It wasn’t a question, but she nodded. “Then forgive me.” He kissed her forehead. “Please, Evelyn, forgive me.” He kissed her temple. “And let me prove to you that you’re the only one I want.” He kissed her cheek and her chin. She was trembling now, and fighting sobs. His lips gently brushed hers and he felt her breath flutter. He pulled back, just enough to look in her eyes, and asked her again, “Please, forgive me.” She nodded. “I love you.”

  A sob broke through Evelyn’s chest when she heard those words, but Jackson fought it back, kissing her tenderly. His hand slipped from her cheek to cradle her head and she slipped her arms under his and around his waist, feeling the strength of his muscles as she hugged him closer. Reluctantly, she took her lips away from his and looked into his eyes again, as tears spilled from her own.

  “I love you, Ayanna Evelyn Carter. I’ll tell you so, and I’ll show you, every day.”

  Chapter 35

  Evelyn knew she should eat something, but her mind kept wandering back to the pub. Jackson hadn’t let her go the rest of the night. If his arms weren’t around her, his hand was holding hers. She hadn’t minded in the least. The one time he wasn’t touching her was during an animated conversation with Liam, of all people, about some training routine she wasn’t interested in. Spotting Bekah sitting alone, she’d hoped to use the opportunity to update her on Jackson. Jackson apparently had other ideas. Catching her about the waist, he tenderly stood her in front of himself, wrapping his arms around her. She had blushed at Liam’s I-told-you-so wink, and Jackson held her tighter, pressing her back more firmly against his chest.

  “You know you’ll be fine,” Bekah’s voice broke through her daydream.

  Evelyn looked her roommate up and down. Bekah’s style of the day – ripped jeans, tucked in gray t-shirt, white blazer, a
nd those heals. “How do you make that look good?”

  “Nice try,” Bekah laughed. “We’re staying on you.” Bekah sat next to her and smoothed her hand over Evelyn’s, saving Evelyn’s dress from being worried to shreds. “The only thing that’s changed is now you know he likes you. I was starting to think he’d never tell you!”

  Evelyn grimaced. “How long have you known?”

  “I guessed it for a while, but he told me when he brought you home after Thanksgiving.” Bekah smiled as a knock sounded at the door.

  Evelyn’s hands shook as she opened it. There he stood, terrifying and wonderful, dressed in his customary off-duty attire: flannel. He was unshaven. She didn’t know why she liked him that way, but she did. Her soul ached to tuck herself into his arms.

  Instead, fear paralyzed her. Her eyes skirted his. She would have blushed if she knew the thoughts running through Jackson’s mind.

  “Hey, Jackson.” Bekah was getting good at breaking through Evelyn’s dazes.

  “Hey, Bekah.” Jackson’s eyes met Bekah’s, but only briefly. His focus remained on his woman as he entered the apartment and shut the door behind him.

  “Oh alright, I get it.” Bekah hugged Jackson and looked at him seriously. “You treat her right, Jackson. And,” she said smiling, “try to be patient…really patient.”

  Evelyn hugged her roommate tight. It was only ten days, but she really was going to miss her.

  “First Corinthians, chapter 13,” Bekah whispered. “Look it up. Maybe it’ll help. And don’t worry,” she comforted Evelyn. “It’s just Jackson. And you’ll be with his parents. He has to be on his best behavior.” She let her go and winked at Jackson as she disappeared down the hall.

  Jackson studied Evelyn. He’d assumed she’d need guidance as they ventured onto this new road, but this was much more than a little inexperience. He wrapped his arms around Evelyn. “I’m scared too. I’ve never been in love before either.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Bekah yelled from down the hall. “You’re so cheesy!”

  Jackson could feel Evelyn laugh. “How are you?”

  Evelyn buried her face against his chest and took, what she had hoped to be, a steadying breath. It wasn’t as effective as she had hoped because the scent of him was dizzying. “I think I’m having a nervous breakdown. But other than that, I’m fine.”

  At least she’s being honest with me, he thought. “Why are you having a nervous breakdown?”

  Evelyn backed away from Jackson and more collapsed than sat on her couch. “Oh, no reason. Just because you’re,” she waved her hand at him, “all that, and I told you all that stuff last night, and now I feel just a little bit exposed and absolutely vulnerable, and I’m still not entirely sure that I believe you.” There, she said it. Why was he smiling at her? “What?”

  “I’m going to enjoy convincing you that I love you.” He reached out and pulled her back to himself. He slid his hands down her sides and kissed her behind her ear. She clung to him like she’d fall over if she let go. He breathed in her scent and smiled. Yes, he was really going to enjoy convincing her.

  It didn’t surprise Evelyn that a car was taking them to the Monroe’s. What did shock her was the absence of a driver in the car. “You can drive?” she gawked at Jackson.

  Jackson put her bags into the covered truck bed and winked at her as he helped her into the passenger seat, sending her pulse racing. The man clearly enjoyed showing off for her. Or maybe it was her response to his touch that entertained him.

  “One more first,” Evelyn murmured as Jackson climbed into the driver’s seat. The truck was old, though she didn’t know enough about cars to determine its year. The outside paint was grey, and the interior followed in the same fashion. The dash didn’t have an overwhelming number of knobs or buttons, but she still didn’t know what any of the ones it did have were for. She did, however, know she enjoyed sitting in it. The seats were comfortable and it was spacious. The back seat seemed small; perhaps only large enough for children to be comfortable riding there.

  At the turn of the key, the engine roared to life. Evelyn’s hand flew to her chest at the shockingly powerful sound. “And it’s not electric?” She tried to hide her giddiness. She failed. She had dreamed of riding in a gas-powered car, and there she was, sitting in the front seat of one. “How did you get someone to let you use it?”

  There was unmistakable pride in his expression. “It’s mine. I brought it back from New Mexico with me. I only drive it when I’m going to my parents’ in the snow.”

  “Jackson, are you rich?” A smirk was his only reply. “You must be if you can afford a car and the gas for it. Are you rich, or just your parents?”

  “So, you think the only reason I have money is because of my parents, huh?”

  Realizing how her question sounded, she was glad he sounded amused instead of offended. “Just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

  Jackson smiled over at her. “I’m not rich, but I don’t want for much. Some of it is from my parents. They set up accounts and investments for me when I was young. A lot of it comes from my own hard work. I’ve been working, at least part time, since I was fifteen, and haven’t really had any expenses until I bought this truck and then my house. I’ve only been a captain a little while, but they make a good living.

  “And just so you know, most officers know how to drive. We’d be pretty slow getting to emergencies if we had to wait around for a ride.”

  Evelyn rolled her eyes. Maybe most officers knew how to drive, but the vast majority did not own their own private vehicle. And she wasn’t in want. He had a surplus. There was a difference. A big difference.

  She was glad she managed to keep those thoughts to herself.

  It wasn’t going to be a smooth ride to Jackson’s parents’ home, with the truck bouncing roughly at every imperfection in the road, but it was exciting. Evelyn was glad Jackson didn’t press her further for conversation; it gave her time to think and get her nerves under control. They were coming to the cemetery when she finally spoke again. “Would you mind if we stopped up there for a minute?” she asked on impulse.

  Though confused, Jackson complied, pulling over next to the sidewalk and turning the truck off. Worry gripped him when he saw how pale she’d gone. “What’s wrong?”

  Evelyn opened her door and slid out. “Will you come with me?” she asked, turning back to Jackson.

  They walked through the frozen cemetery; the crunch of snow beneath their feet was all that broke the silence engulfing them.

  Evelyn had never taken anyone with her to visit her mother’s grave before, but she’d never loved anyone like she loved Jackson, either. Loving Jackson would require her to open up to him. She didn’t know much about love, but that much she was sure of. This was a good first step. She thought about the scriptures Bekah told her about. Reading those, she decided, would be a good second step.

  They finally stopped walking and Jackson watched as Evelyn knelt down to dust off the snow that had settled over the gravestone. Even before seeing the name, Jackson knew where she’d led him. But when the snow was cleared, he got a surprise he wasn’t expecting.

  “Your mother?”

  “Yes.” Feeling open and vulnerable, Evelyn stood and crossed her arms in front of her, not sure what else to say. She hoped she had imagined the displeasure she heard in his voice.

  Their day had started off so differently than Jackson imagined it would. He had thought after she knew he loved her, she would be free of her fear of him. Instead, she was even more reserved. And now they were standing over her mother’s grave, and her mother was Justine Thompson, wife to Harold Thompson, and an old family friend.

  You would never find Harold’s name in a history book, but a part of American history he was. He was the Secretary of State who fell in love with a woman from the Texas Republic and brought her home as his wife. Evelyn was right when she had told Jackson her father died from a fight with the wrong people. Extremists had hunted him down. Jack
son’s own father had been close friends with Harold, and Justine Thompson had lived with them for a short time, until her baby girl was born.

  She had come to them terrified the same night Harold was killed. She had nowhere else to go and so she lived with them in secret. Jackson remembered her reading stories to him as a child; something Evelyn never got to experience. He would climb onto her lap and they would talk to the baby in her stomach.

  Jackson wasn’t allowed around when Justine went into labor, but he had been permitted to hold the baby, Evelyn, just hours after she was born. Memories were breaking over him. He remembered the feeling he had holding her, and Justine Thompson asking him, “You’ll always protect my flower, won’t you, Jackson?”

  Flower.

  Justine was gone the next morning. She didn’t leave any information on where she was going, or what she named her baby. Jackson should have realized it all sooner. How was he going to tell Evelyn everything he knew? That she had been born in the home he grew up in? That he had known her mother? And then there was Tom and the other extremists. If they knew who she really was, she would be in more danger than her association with Jackson could ever cause her. Instead of telling her, he heeded the warning in his heart telling him to wait, put his arm around her waist, and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you for sharing this with me.” He needed to talk to his father. Oh God, please give me wisdom in this…or just, let me be wrong.

  Chapter 36

  Jackson pulled into his parents’ driveway and grabbed their bags as Evelyn hopped out of the truck. She had missed this home, and his parents, so much; but the thought that they might not approve of her relationship with their son made her steps hesitant. She wished she had thought about that a bit sooner. As it was, it was too late now to worry about it. Jackson had opened the door and they were walking in, Jackson already calling for his parents.

  The home had been transformed into a winter wonderland. Fresh garland and little white lights hung from every banister and doorway, with large red ribbons tying them securely in place. Every shelf and table had vases of ornaments or festively wrapped candies, snowman figurines, or some other special touch on it. A collection of figurines forming a beautiful scene of people, gathered in what looked like a hut or a barn of some sort, caught Evelyn’s eye. She wasn’t sure what the scene was, and she was pretty sure it didn’t have anything to do with Christmas, but it was lovely. Evelyn had never seen anything so picturesque.