by Leger, Lori
Toby and Jackson stared back at her. Both sweaty and holding a basketball between the two of them. Toby’s brown eyes crinkled with laughter as one hand gripped the brim of the old, faded LSU cap, the one Jackson had been so anxious to have.
Her hand flew to her mouth, biting back a sob. She collapsed in a chair, flipped the photo over to see Toby’s scrawl on the back.
Me and Jackson, after whipping his ass in hoops again, thanks to my lucky cap. They don’t make men any better than Jack! I’d trust him with my life.
“Oh Toby.” She traced the photo with one finger. She studied his features for a moment, the coal black hair and warm eyes she’d found comfort in for years. God, she’d loved that man. Her eyes traveled to Jackson’s image, not as buff as he was now, and paler. Despite the smile on his face, she detected the old familiar signs of stress and strain. Most certainly a by-product of life with Chloe.
But that Jackson had long since gone. She pictured him laughing with her girls, holding their hands, and helping them with baseball, school work, yard work. Helping Lex to ride her bike for the first time while she recorded the event.
She picked up her phone and viewed a picture she’d taken of him, Mac, and Lexie last weekend. They’d fallen asleep on her couch watching a movie together. Mac was curled up in front of Jackson, while Lex lay sprawled out on his hip, using him as her personal recliner. He’d wrapped one arm protectively around her so she wouldn’t fall. All three were sound asleep. She hadn’t had the chance to show anyone this picture, not even them. A sudden thought filled her with panic. What if he never got to see it?
Giselle held the phone to her chest. She cried then. For Toby, and for all the things he’d miss in his daughters’ lives. For Jackson, who was somewhere, miserable and alone, thinking there was no hope for them. She cried for herself, for being such a fool.
Minutes later, she wiped her eyes, felt free, lighter than she had since Toby had left this world. She knew she’d love him forever, but also faced the undeniable fact that she did love Jackson. And her love for him was every bit as strong as it had been for her husband.
Jackson. Oh God. Where was he?
She pictured his tortured face, heard his tormented words. She felt sick inside from what she had done to him. She’d caused him such pain, and she had to take it back. She had to make it right.
She hit redial, getting the same result. At the voice mail prompt, she took a deep breath. “Jackson, I love you. Call me. I’m on my way to you. Please call me.”
His cell number rang without an answer. Giselle picked up the photo, placed it carefully inside her purse. She grabbed her keys, and headed back to Lake Coburn.
She pulled into the driveway, relieved to see his truck parked inside the garage. A second later, she realized, no bike. That could explain why he didn’t answer his cell. She tested the door to the utility room; it opened for her and she walked inside Jackson’s home. Everything was exactly as it had been less than two hours earlier. Her gut twisted suddenly. Everything was exactly the same. Keys on counter, along with a bank statement and a couple of bills, his door unlocked, garage door opened. So not Jackson. She checked her watch … 11:00 a.m. Where was he?
Where would he have gone? She attempted to sit, to wait, but felt this desperate need to search for him. Find him. She called Bill. It rang twice before he picked up.
“Bill, this is Giselle. Is Jackson with you?”
“No, he isn’t. Is something wrong?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know for sure. Maybe it’s nothing. I’m here at his house; his bike is missing and his house was unlocked, the garage door left opened, his truck and house keys left on the cabinet. All the things he’d never do.”
“I don’t think it’s reason to worry.”
She took a deep breath, thinking she’d better explain. “I left here about two hours ago. It’s a long story, but I told him I couldn’t see him anymore, Bill. I’ve realized how foolish that was, and I came back to tell him. He’s not answering his phone. I don’t know, but I’ve got a bad feeling. I think he needs help. Can you help me find him?”
“Sure honey. I bet he’s just riding somewhere around here to clear his head. Why don’t you come meet me?”
“I will. Start looking right away. I’ll check some roads we’ve ridden on going toward your place.”
She found a tablet to leave Jackson a note in case he came home. She wrote:
Jackson,
Everything I said was a mistake. I love you!
Giselle
She placed it on the table where he’d see it immediately. She ran out, filled with a dread that he’d never get a chance to see it. She drove to Bill’s, using the same route they had, turning off on back roads instead of taking the highway. No luck. Within half an hour, she turned into Bill’s driveway. She’d just hit the redial button to call him when she saw his truck turning in to the drive. She slid out of her vehicle with her purse, keys, and phone in hand. As soon as Bill’s truck pulled to a stop she climbed inside with him. “Anything?”
“Not a thing. He doesn’t answer for me, either.” He headed back down the drive. “You know, he may be just riding and can’t hear his phone.”
She twisted nervously at her fingers. “He needs help, Bill. I know it. I can feel it. What’s worse is that he doesn’t know yet.” She wiped an escaped tear from her face.
“Doesn’t know what, hon?”
“That I love him. I love him so much, and I want to marry him. I want to have his babies, and I want us to be a family. One big, happy family.” She shook her head anxiously. “Wherever he is, he’s thinking there’s no hope for us.” She covered her eyes and pictured the tortured expression on Jackson’s face when she walked out on him earlier. “When I left him, he was devastated, Bill. He begged me not to walk away from him, and I did. I hurt him so badly. I’m such a fool.”
Bill laid a comforting hand on her arm. “Things will work out, you’ll see.”
“Where could he be?” She dug in her purse for a tissue, picked up the picture and held it close, silently asking Toby to help her if he could. She closed her eyes and concentrated, picturing their last bike ride and one of the places they had stopped one morning.
“He and I went riding the other day and there was this pond. There were cattle and a few head of horses grazing in a pasture, and ducks and geese that stay there year round. Do you know where that is? Have you checked there yet?”
“I know what you’re talking about and I haven’t checked there, but it’s only about five miles from here. Do you have reason to believe he’s there?”
“No, it’s just a feeling.” She put her head down. “Oh God, keep him safe,” she whispered, clutching the snapshot to her heart.
“What is that you have there?” Bill asked.
“I cleaned out Toby’s office this morning and found this in an envelope. I’ll never forgive myself if …” Her voice trailed off, leaving the dreaded thought unspoken.
Bill reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. “He’ll be all right, Giselle. He’s strong.”
She lowered her head and hot tears fell from her eyes. “But he’s so alone. And he thinks he’ll stay that way.”
Bill studied the snapshot with one hand. “The time stamp says this was taken on February 28th. That’s Jackson’s birthday.”
“That’s right, it is,” Giselle said.
“We’ll find him, don’t worry. Okay, this is the road.”
“I remember it! How far is it to the end?”
“About six miles, but the pond is a couple of miles up.”
She pointed at something on his dash. “Is this a GPS?”
Bill nodded. “If he needs help, they’ll find us.”
They stopped talking so they could keep watch for any sign of Jackson’s bike. They’d both been scanning either side of the roadside ditches when Giselle turned to face the front just in time to see the dead cow on the road. “Look out!”
He had to slam on his b
rakes and skidded off toward one of the ditches to avoid hitting it. The truck came to a jerking halt. “Are you okay?”
Giselle didn’t answer, just pointed at the ditch and jumped out of the truck. She ran to the twisted heap of metal that had been Jackson’s motorcycle. “He’s here somewhere, Bill!” She called his name every few seconds as she and Bill began to search through the pasture’s waist high grass.
You’re in deep shit here, man. His injuries were that serious. He’d managed to lift his head the first time he gained consciousness, just long enough to see the compound fracture of his right leg—the bone protruding nastily through the skin. He couldn’t move his left arm, so he suspected it was broken, as well. Or dislocated. Or both. He knew better than to try to move but his symptoms—dizziness, the severe ache in his head, and blurred vision—scared the caution right out of him. With a good chance of a concussion, maybe even some swelling of the brain, he needed help. He’d worn his cap-style helmet. Could picture Giselle fussing at him, telling him it didn’t offer nearly enough protection. It had taken the brunt of the initial impact, but had flown off after that.
He closed his eyes. Dreamed of Giselle—she was calling to him. Speaking tender words. “Where are you, baby? Please, answer me, I love you so much,” she said. The dream seemed so real he opened his one good eye.
Something yellow moved through the tall grass toward him. Bright yellow. The sun? It couldn’t be, it was moving too fast and making too much noise.
“Jackson!”
Not a dream. She was here. Giselle was here, and looking for him. His mouth went dry. He tried to answer but no words came out. Afraid she would leave without seeing him, he struggled to raise the arm that wasn’t broken. It took all he had, but he finally did it. Please God. Let her see.
Giselle saw movement from the corner of her eye and saw him. “He’s here!” She ran to him, turned just long enough to scream at Bill. “Get Air Med out here. Hurry!”
She kneeled down next to the bent and broken body of the man she loved, struggling not to cry. “Jackson! Oh my God, can you hear me baby? Can you hear me? Oh Jesus—look at you!”
He tried to say something, but no sound came out, gazing at her through the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut.
“It’s okay, baby! We’re here now and help is coming. Listen to me, Jackson. I love you, and you have to come through this so you can marry me. Do you hear me? I love you!” She kissed him gently on the cheek that wasn’t swollen. She thought she felt him squeeze her hand.
Bill approached, and the look on his face was almost more than Giselle could bear. She knew it was bad, but Bill’s expression told her it was even worse than she thought. The compound fracture was bad enough with the jagged bone protruding through the skin. But his head, good God—his head injury looked extremely bad No telling what kind of internal injuries or bleeding going on inside him.
Bill kneeled next to his nephew. “I called in the GPS location. They’ll bring them right to us.”
“How long, Bill?”
He shook his head. “She said it’d be within six minutes. Jackson’s strong, hon. If anybody can survive this, it’s him.”
She held his good hand and scanned his battered body, inventoried the injuries, known and unknown. If anyone can.
All they could do was be there for him. Talk to him, assure him. They did that, for five more agonizing minutes before they heard the Air Med helicopter’s approach. Bill stood and waved his arms.
Giselle gave Jackson’s hand one last squeeze before she moved aside to let the medics do their work. It took another couple of minutes to stabilize and load him into the chopper.
She leaned over to the man she loved and fought to keep from crying in front of him. “Jackson, you have to be strong now. Don’t you give up. I love you! Fight for us. Do you hear me? Fight for us!” She turned to the nearest medic. “Where are you taking him?”
“The trauma center at St. Luke’s is the best around. They’re already waiting for him.”
She and Bill ran back to the truck. She made phone calls while Bill broke every speeding law in the books. She called Carrie and Gwen, then Gretchen, Lauren, and Amanda. She thanked Amanda for offering to collect Mac and Lexie from the bus and take them to her place. After ending that call she turned to Bill. “Do you have Red’s number?”
“I think Jackson programmed it in my phone for me.”
She pulled up his contact list, found his name, and hit call.
“Red …” That’s all she could manage before the lump in her throat stopped her from speaking. She handed the phone to Bill.
“Red, it’s Bill Broussard. Jackson wrecked his bike. It’s serious; he’s got a bad head injury, a compound leg break, and surely some internal injuries.”
“What the hell happened?”
“As far as we can tell, he hit a cow on one of these back roads around my place. The cow’s dead, the bike’s totaled, and it looks like Jackson flew about thirty feet into a pasture. I don’t think he hit the pavement, and the pasture was pretty thick with tall grass. Maybe that softened the impact some. I didn’t see a helmet, did you, Giselle?”
“Yes, it was that half helmet that he likes to wear. It must have flown off,” she said, between sobs.
“Listen, I’ll leave here in about five minutes. What hospital?”
“St. Luke’s on South Ryan.”
“I’ll see you there. Put Giselle back on the phone.”
Bill handed her the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Red?” she sobbed.
“You listen to me, hon. He’s strong and he loves you. He’ll be fine. I know he will.”
“He has to be. I can’t—” She bit back another sob. “I can’t lose him, Red.”
“You won’t. I’ll see you in an hour or so.”
Before Bill’s truck rolled to a stop, Giselle had jumped out and sprinted to the door of the hospital. She ran to the information desk. “Jackson Broussard was just brought here by Air Med. Bad motorcycle accident. We’re his family. Can you give me us information?”
“Yes ma’am, they’re prepping him for emergency surgery on the sixth floor. There’s a waiting room up there.”
“Thank you.” Giselle turned in time to see Carrie rushing through the doors. “Sixth floor, Carrie. He’s going into surgery soon.”
Carrie took Bill’s arm while they waited for the elevator. “How bad, Bill.”
“It’s serious.” He described the injuries. “The medics suspected brain swelling from the head injury.”
She seemed to take it in stride, nodded and turned to Giselle. “He’s a strong man. He’ll be fine, you’ll see.”
They took the elevator to the waiting room and began the long, agonizing wait for information on the man they all loved in different ways.
Giselle opened her purse. She rummaged around, growing more and more frantic. “Where is it?”
Bill pulled something out of his shirt pocket and held it out to her. “Maybe you’re looking for this.”
“Oh, thank you!” She hugged the snapshot to her. “I was afraid I’d lost it.”
Carrie leaned forward. “What do you have there?” She inhaled sharply at the picture Giselle held up. “I took that—right before I told them they were stinking up my house. I’d forgotten I’d given one to Toby. It wouldn’t have helped to give one to Jackson. He’d have had to hide the damn thing.” She covered her mouth and suppressed a sob. “What happened, Giselle?”
“It’s my fault, Carrie. If I hadn’t put off cleaning out Toby’s office for so long, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have overheard the conversation I heard this morning.”
“What conversation?” Once Giselle had filled them both in, Carrie put her two cents in. “That’s ridiculous! Toby would never have done that.”
“I know that now, but I guess I went a little crazy,” Giselle admitted. “Besides, Jackson let me read the letter Chloe left him and it proved he didn’t sleep with he
r.”
“You read the letter?”
Giselle nodded. “It explained a lot of things. Like why Chloe was after Toby in the first place.”
Carrie paused a moment before asking. “She knew Jackson was in love with you, didn’t she? Of course she did. She was a mean little bitch, but she wasn’t stupid.” She glanced over at Bill. “If the two of us could tell, she had to have known.”
Bill nodded as he took the photo from Carrie and studied it, even reading the back. “I’m sorry I never met him, he sounds like a wonderful man.”
Giselle turned tear-filled eyes on him. “He was every bit as wonderful as Jackson is.”
“This is a sign, you know, a sign that Jackson’s going to pull through.” He smiled down at her. “Jackson loves you and those girls more than anything. He’ll fight like hell to live.”
“He has to, Bill.” Giselle allowed herself a final sniff, then wiped her eyes free of tears. She lifted her chin. “I will not lose Jackson.”
He smiled and pulled her to him for a hug. “There’s the spunky girl that Jackson fell in love with.”
“How did you both know?” Her gaze bounced from Bill to Carrie. “He said the two of you have known for years.”
Bill’s eyes sparkled with laughter. “His eyes lit up every time he talked about something you did to put him in his place at the office. One day I asked him why he didn’t apologize to you and be done with the whole business. He said it was worth keeping you pissed off at him just to see your beautiful green eyes flash with anger. That’s when I knew he was in love with you.”
Giselle turned expectantly to Carrie. “And you?”
Carrie sniffed then sighed loudly. “One day at the office you were telling Joan, Barbara, Tina, and Catherine a story about your girls. I think it was when Mac tied Lex up to your four poster bed in a sheet and told you to bring her back to wherever you got her.”
“I remember. We were standing around Joan’s desk. After I finished the story, I saw him leaning in the doorway of his office drinking a cup of coffee. I expected him to fuss at me for keeping everyone from their work.”