Parents see things the way they want to see them, I guess. Look at Sarah’s folks. They clearly want Sarah back, and back in her daughter’s life, despite all the pain she brought everyone. But how dare they blame Jaxon for her leaving in the first place? He’s a good man, the best man I know.
Stop thinking about him, Rachel.
Truthfully, I have no idea where I go from here. At least I have the Christmas break to figure it out. Right now, though, I’m thinking I’ll move into a new place near Penn State to finish my degree, but make sure it’s far enough from Jaxon that I never have to set eyes on him again—bring any kind of danger into his life. I have to take Dylan’s threat seriously, and from here on out, I’ll keep my head down, and stay off anyone’s radar.
“You were on mine the second you moved in next door.”
As Jaxon’s words ping through my brain, I clench down on my jaw hard enough to cause the muscle to throb. Maybe I need to try some type of pain therapy to forget him. Maybe I’ll look into purchasing a Taser and use it on myself. I give a humorless laugh as I step into the kitchen. With the oven on and a pot boiling on the stovetop, it’s much warmer than the other areas of the house. Yellowing daisy wallpaper covering the walls, and peeling around the edges brings back thoughts of my mother. She loved daisies. I sniff, but when I catch the worry in grandma’s eyes, I turn from her.
Christmas should be filled with joy, laugher and loved ones, and I don’t want to bring Grandma down into my pit of despair. She hands me a glass of tea, even though I hadn’t asked for one. In the two weeks I’ve been here, I’ve lost all the weight I put on thanks to Jaxon making my lunches and sharing our meals.
“The turkey is in the oven,” Grandma says with a smile on her face that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Mabel and Gracie are bringing the fixings. We’ll all have a big Christmas meal,” she says and pats my hands slightly. “It will be fun.”
I force a smile, take in the lines around her eyes, the tight gray curls pinching her scalp. There is a sadness about her, too. She can try to hide it from me, but underneath the façade, Grandma has regrets. Of that I’m certain.
“Thanks for letting me share the holidays with you,” I say.
“You’re always welcome here, Rachel.”
I take a sip of tea and glance around the kitchen. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“If you want to get some wood from the shed that would help,” she says. I nod and set my tea down. There’s plenty of wood in the rack by the fireplace, but I get that she’s just trying to give me chores to take my mind off things, even though she has no idea what those things are.
I walk to the front door, pull on my boots and coat, and grab my dollar store mittens and hat from the bench. But as soon as I close my fingers around them, my thoughts go to Jaxon and Cassie and the mitts they knitted for my birthday. Tears well up in my eyes. I still can’t believe they did that. No one has ever done anything so thoughtful or touching. Those mitts mean the world to me and I wish I had grabbed them before I fled. Just a little something tangible to hold on to, a little memory to pack away and take out when my heart isn’t quite so broken, although I’m not sure that time will ever come. Jaxon is the sweetest man I’ve ever met, and his daughter has my heart. To think he went through such an effort for me. My chest nearly burst with the love I feel for him.
I tug the hat on and hold my mitts in one had as I open the door with the other. But when I come face to face with a very familiar man, his hand raised to knock, the mittens slip from my fingers and I falter backward.
No!
No. No. No. This can’t be happening.
“What? How?” I begin, fear crawling up from the depths of my stomach. I glance past his shoulders, see the running vehicle in the driveway. This can’t be happening. I blink, open my eyes again, but he’s still there. The room spins around me, and breathing becomes a little more difficult.
How did he find me?
“What…what are you doing here?” I ask around a tongue gone thick.
“Rachel…” As my legs go out from underneath me, the most warm, caring hands I ever had the pleasure of touching me capture me before I fall.
“Jaxon,” I say, his name catching in my throat.
He holds my trembling body to his, and through our winter coats, his heart pounds hard against my chest. Unable to help myself, I breathe him in, and hold his scent in my lungs never wanting to forget it. Strong hands grip me tighter, and as big fingers fist my hair and his aroma plumes through my blood, I cry. I cry hard. I cry for my mother, my father, for Jaxon and Cassie. I cry for love and loss…years of pain.
“Hey,” he whispers, and holds me tight until I finally stop trembling.
“Jaxon, you…you can’t be here,” I whisper, and pound against his chest. “You have to go.”
He inches back, and I nearly sob again when I catch the pain, the fearful confusion, bracketing his blue eyes. I hurt him. Deeply. But what choice did I have? It was the only way I could protect him and his daughter.
“I’ll go, Rachel. But you’re coming with me,” he says,
