Worth the Risk (St. James Book 3)

by Jamie Beck

  He crossed the yard in silence, thankful that Gabby seemed caught up in her own thoughts again, content to sit in front of the fire and consider her options. He needed to retreat and regroup. Clamp down on all the emotions she’d once again whipped into a mild frenzy.

  Yet, when he climbed the stairs to the apartment, he could see the wavering light from the fire pit casting about the edges of the yard, like hopeful fingers extending through the darkness, offering the promise of comfort.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The following several days passed in a blur of chores during which Gabby’s mood blew about like the mass of fallen leaves she’d failed to rake. Between dealing with her dad, Luc, Jackson, and Cami—her dad’s militant occupational therapist—she’d rarely found a moment’s peace.

  “Thanks, Cami. See you on Friday.” Gabby waved good-bye at the door and then quickly closed it against the blustery weather.

  Standing with her forehead resting against the wall, she drew a deep breath. Most days her father’s therapy sessions left him ornery. No reason to suspect today would be any different. Might not be so bad if the lingering tension from their fight about his hiding her mother’s old letters weren’t adding to the friction.

  The shrill whirr of a drill sounded from the upstairs bathroom where, after a lengthy debate with her stubborn dad, Jackson had finally gotten permission to install a grab rail in the shower.

  One would think Jackson would steer clear of the Bouchard home to avoid being roped into performing task after task. Gabby had learned to expect the unexpected when it came to that man, who also didn’t seem to mind having Luc plastered to his side whenever he stopped by. No doubt Luc was in the bathroom this very minute “helping” Jackson with the project.

  The image of her son eagerly watching Jackson work prompted a grin, even though it shouldn’t. As a “friend,” she also shouldn’t make cow eyes whenever Jackson came around, but she feared that was exactly what she did. In fact, lately she’d been doing and thinking a lot of things she shouldn’t—like daydreaming—instead of focusing on what mattered, like her real-life problems. Like making a decision about her mom.

  On her way back to the kitchen to check on the beef stew she’d been cooking, she stopped by her father, who sat in his recliner. “Cami says you’ve made good progress this past week.”

  “Not enough.” He kept his gaze on his left hand while he stretched his fingers. “I’m hungry. When’s dinner?”

  “It should be ready now.” She knew how much he hated being sidelined. Hopefully he’d start making the best of his situation instead of fighting her every step of the way. “Need help getting up?”

  He waved her off, brows snapped together. “No, I can manage. Don’t mother me or I’ll never get back to normal.”

  “Sorry!” Gabby scowled, exhibiting her frayed patience. Turning on her heel, she muttered, “See you in the kitchen.”

  Her dad moved slowly these days, so she’d already begun to ladle stew into each bowl by the time he arrived at the table.

  “Four bowls?” He lowered himself into a chair. “I suppose this means Jackson’s joining us for dinner again.”

  Gabby set a steaming bowl of stew in front of him. “It’s only polite, considering how much he’s been helping with your business, Luc, and even pitching in around here.”

  Her dad shot her an annoyed look. “I may be a little weakened, but I’m not blind. You’re getting attached to him. Worse, Luc is, too.”

  “Now I’m not allowed to make new friends?” Gabby returned to the stove, glad for an excuse to hide her face. Good grief, how obvious her feelings must be if her dad had noticed despite his preoccupation with therapy. Still, it was her life, not his. He had to stop treating her like a child. “Don’t interfere with Jackson like you did with Mom’s letters.”

  “Like I could ever stop you from doing whatever you wanted. And don’t start up with that nonsense about me treating you like a baby. You are my baby. I did what I did to protect us both from your mom’s highs and lows.” He laid his napkin across his lap. “Honestly, I’d think you’d know better than to let Luc grow close to someone who is going to leave, not to mention a man with Jackson’s particular problem.”

  Gabby whirled around. “What’s that mean?”

  Her father’s eyes locked on hers. “You know exactly what that means. I’m surprised you’d risk the same kind of disappointment you had with your mom.”

  “How do you . . .” Gabby’s voice trailed off because she didn’t want to betray Jackson’s confidence.

  Her father’s dismissive wave of the hand rankled. “The day of my stroke, I overheard the way you asked Jackson if he’d been drinking. That, plus how the folks around this small town talk about the handsome stranger who keeps to himself and never has a drink—not even in a bar during a football game. Life with your mom taught me how to read the signs.”

  “Why is the fact he isn’t drinking a problem for you?” Gabby’s harsh tone caused her father to raise his brows again.

  “Don’t get me wrong.” Her dad set both hands on the table. “I like him and I’m grateful for his help. But I also loved your mom, and you and I both learned, firsthand, short stretches of clean behavior don’t mean the problem is gone. Who says she’s even telling the truth about her situation? Don’t be gullible, Gabby, with her or Jackson.”

  His expression had shifted from critical to mournful, and she knew he’d really been thinking, Don’t be as stupid as I was.

  She supposed he had a small point. Her mom had been a beautiful young woman. Lively and witty. Her dad had never stood a chance against such beauty and charisma.

  And when she got sick and things turned bad, he thought he could save her. Took four years before he gave up. Gabby couldn’t really blame him for wanting to protect her from the same fate. But unlike her dad, Gabby knew going in that there’d be no happy ending with Jackson.

  Her little fantasies were harmless, really. After all, they’d agreed to be friends. Period. End of story. No heartbreak involved.

  “I haven’t decided what to do about Mom. But it’s not fair to assume Jackson’s like her. Shouldn’t he get the benefit of the doubt until he proves himself unreliable?” She set Luc’s and Jackson’s bowls on the table, thankful she could speak the truth—more or less. “And anyway, Jackson and I are friends. Nothing more.”

  Out of nowhere, Luc interrupted the conversation by climbing onto his booster seat. Gabby’s head snapped up in time to notice Jackson hovering in the hallway right outside the kitchen.

  Smile and pretend he heard nothing. Hard to do when her heart hit the floor.

  “Come sit!” She waved Jackson into the kitchen just as she heard Luc exclaim, “Yuck!”

  Luc wrinkled his tiny nose as he peered at the beef stew.

  Oh, joy. Another night of cooking only to end up arguing about the dinner. She really ought to give in and make chicken fingers every night. Unfortunately, she poured the frustration her father’s pessimism prompted onto Luc. “Oh, come on, Luc. Don’t you want to be strong like Pappy and Jackson? I bet they’re going to lick the bowl clean.”

  Jackson stepped into the kitchen holding his toolbox. “Actually, I’m on my way out. I don’t want to impose on another family dinner.”

  Shoot. He’d heard something. Hopefully not everything.

  “It’s not an imposition. Please, you just did us another favor. Stay and have some dinner.” Gabby pointed at one of the empty chairs. “Despite Luc’s opinion, it’s pretty good stuff.”

  “Sit dere, Jackson.” Luc pointed at the seat to his left while kicking his feet.

  “Not tonight, buddy. But your mom’s right. You need to eat a good dinner.” He approached Luc’s seat and sniffed. “Smells delicious.” Then, turning to Gabby, he said, “Maybe I could take a little home and return the bowl in the morning?”

  She hated the way her entire body deflated at that request. Hated that her dad had embarrassed her and probably offended Jackson
. Hated, most of all, that her father’s warnings couldn’t be wholly ignored. “Okay, sure. Let me wrap it in foil for you.”

  A minute later she handed him the warm bowl, wishing he would change his mind. Why would he? Poor guy had put up with a lot these past few weeks. First she’d begged him for sex, then she’d dumped all her personal problems in his lap, and now her dad had essentially labeled him an unreliable drunk. Come to think of it, Jackson’s leaving right now would spare her having to hide her humiliation yet again.

  If she had any pride, she’d shove him out the door. “Thanks for installing that railing.”

  “You’re welcome.” He turned to her dad, polite smile in place. “Jon, enjoy your dinner.” Then he winked at Luc. “I’m going to ask your mom if you ate all that beef. If not, then I can’t let you help me with my next project.”

  Luc picked up his spoon and pushed the food around the bowl.

  Then Jackson left through the back door, letting a frigid blast of air into the kitchen. As if she weren’t already cold to the bone.

  “Big storm’s coming,” her dad mumbled through a bite of stew. “Expect trees down and other problems on tomorrow’s house checks.”

  Gabby slumped into her chair, appetite gone, caring very little about the impending storm or damage it might do, which paled in comparison to the silent uproar in her chest.

  Jackson opened his eyes and saw his breath. That wouldn’t be too remarkable if it weren’t for the fact he was still lying in bed, covers tucked up under his chin.

  The old refrigerator’s rattling hum had fallen silent at some point in the night. That, combined with the chilly temperature, suggested the storm had knocked over trees and taken down power lines. One peek at the blank face of the digital alarm clock confirmed his suspicions.

  Across the room gray skies clouded the window, but at least the rain had stopped. From the gentle sway of the treetops, he surmised the worst of the storm had passed in the night.

  He didn’t feel eager to get moving today. The memory of Jon’s unflattering assumptions still singed his pride. He couldn’t blame the guy for looking out for his daughter, but he couldn’t stand the idea of her trust in him wavering, either. The whole situation with her mom had complicated things well enough without her dad piling on.

  Shouldn’t he get the benefit of the doubt until he proves himself unworthy? Her words had hurt. Not because there wasn’t some truth in them, but because he knew that’s how his family and friends at home must feel about him, too. From now on, they’d be watching and wondering. Questioning and testing.

  The idea of being scrutinized had festered all night like a bad dream he couldn’t escape. Maybe he’d close his eyes for another fifteen minutes. If he curled into a ball, he might even manage a little warmth.

  Bang-bang-bang.

  The rapid knock at the door startled him.

  “Jackson?” Gabby’s voice rang out. “You awake?”

  “Hang on.” Forcing himself out of bed, he cursed when his bare feet hit the icy floor. Wrapped in the old quilt, he shuffled across the room and whipped open the door. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes, but we need to get an early start.” Her smile faded when she noticed his patchwork cloak. “Oh, shoot. I forgot the apartment doesn’t have a generator to keep the heat running. Grab some things and come get showered and dressed in our house. Then we need to roll out. There will be tons of cleanup today with all the fallen branches and trees. We need to check every single house for damage to roofs and other areas.”

  Her alert eyes bored into his, energy and a little tension crackling around her like static electricity.

  “I see you’ve already had your morning coffee.” He yawned and then raked one hand through his hair. “I’ll change here. If there’s still no heat at the end of the day, I’ll take you up on the hot shower. Go on back home. I’ll be there in a few.”

  After closing the door, he searched for clean sweats and a fleece. His phone rang, which told him it had charged before the power died. He put it on speakerphone mode so he could get dressed at the same time.

  “Hey, Cat.” He hopped on one foot while jamming his other leg into his pants. “You’re up early.”

  “I haven’t heard boo out of you in weeks, so I wanted to catch you before your day started.”

  “Too late. I’m actually in a bit of a rush.” He shoved his arms through his old Michigan Wolverines sweatshirt, thankful for the warmth it provided.

  “Rush to do what? I thought you were taking time off to destress and . . . recover.”

  Jackson rolled his eyes. “I’m relaxing. Just keeping busy while I do it.”

  “How very like you.” Cat chuckled. “What’s got you busy, or maybe it’s a who?”

  “Don’t fish, Cat. You stink at it.” Jackson grinned, although the fact she wasn’t far off the mark should’ve made him nervous.

  “Fine.” Cat paused. “So, have you talked to anyone, like a therapist?”

  “Nosy question for someone who doesn’t like to share.” Jackson thought about his last few sessions with Doc, and how he’d been stalling inviting his family to join in the fun. “Actually, my doctor suggested a family session.”

  “Oh?” Cat fell silent. “Why? I mean, what do I have to do with your drinking?”

  His heart pinched a little. “Does that mean you wouldn’t come?”

  “Of course I’ll come,” she responded immediately. “It’s just . . . you know I’m uncomfortable sharing personal stuff. Look at how I squirmed at the intervention. Can’t imagine being quizzed by a doctor.”

  “He’s actually not so bad. Kind of laid-back. Besides, he’s more interested in digging to the root of my issues than he is in your box of secrets. But you can relax, because I haven’t agreed to involve everyone.”

  “If he thinks it’s important, then you need to involve us. David and I will be there for you. You know that, right?”

  “But not Dad?”

  “I don’t know. You know he’s not a big believer in therapy. And he and David together with a doctor who’s probing our family dynamic? Well, that could backfire.”

  “Maybe we’ll finally get the truth about what’s going on with them.” This possibility in and of itself might be the main reason he’d even been considering the idea.

  “Maybe we’re better off in the dark. David has repeatedly said we are. He must mean what he’s saying. David doesn’t lie.”

  True enough. David had mentioned, on more than one occasion, that Jackson and Cat were better off not knowing. However, like Gabby, Jackson didn’t appreciate people “protecting” him by keeping secrets, as if he were still a kid who couldn’t handle the truth. Besides, the truth had to be easier than wondering about the rift because, at times, his imagination could wander into dark territory. “You think he’s told Vivi the truth?”

  “Actually, I do.”

  “To hell with that, Cat. I can handle whatever Vivi can handle. It’s my damn family. I deserve to know at least as much as she does.”

  “First, let’s face facts. Vivi’s stronger than you and me. I mean, look at how she handled her sucky childhood with a smile and a side dish of optimism. Plus, the fact Vivi isn’t one of Dad’s kids gives her a certain distance from whatever it is.” Cat hesitated before speaking again. This time her voice held a note of sorrow. “What if knowing the truth only drives you further away?”

  What if? He supposed it could happen. The thought made him reconsider the advice he’d given Gabby. Would facing her mother backfire or give Gabby closure? Who knew? Not him, that’s for sure. Right now the only thing he could help soothe was his sister’s melancholy.

  “Sounds like you miss me,” he teased. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back in a few weeks. Besides, you’ve got Hank keeping you company, right?”

  “Yes. He’s been great, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you back here, too. It’s been so long since we’ve all been happy.” She heaved a sigh. “That’s what I want most, Jackso
n. I want us all to be happy again.”

  So did Jackson, which was why he’d decided to come up to Vermont in the first place. Yet, he couldn’t make promises when he still felt mistrustful.

  Then again, each hour he spent with Gabby passed without reliving old hurts and bitterness. A growing sense of peace had planted itself in his mind, and he didn’t want to disturb it before the roots took hold. Maybe being a gardener really was Gabby’s calling, he thought with a smile.

  “Look, I appreciate the call. Sorry if you’ve been worried. I’m fine. I’m keeping busy. My landlord had a stroke, so I’m pitching in to help his daughter while she manages their business during his recovery.”

  “His daughter?” His sister’s smile could be heard through the phone. “Now it’s all becoming clear. Maybe I ought to pop up to Vermont for a visit and check her out. I’ve always loved the Equinox Hotel in the fall.”

  “It’s a free country.” Jackson didn’t know why he’d resorted to sarcasm. He’d enjoy seeing Cat, but he didn’t want her judging him, or Gabby. Come to think of it, he’d probably not yet invited his family up precisely to avoid being trapped under the microscope.

  “Thanks for the enthusiastic welcome.” Cat laughed. “Now you know I’m coming, if only to taunt you.”

  He knew she’d never come without an express invitation, so he brushed off her remark as a joke.

  “That’s why I love ya, sis. Now I’ve really got to run. Bye.” Jackson hit the End button and shoved the phone into his pocket.

  By late afternoon, Jackson’s lower back had tightened from overuse. Axes and chainsaws weren’t tools he handled often, and it showed. He couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that Jon and Gabby did this work on a semiregular basis, considering how often smaller trees would be felled by stormy mountain weather.

  He and Gabby hiked up a steep dirt road to a private lane to check on the final home, because the town municipal services hadn’t yet cleared a massive tree from the public road just below.