Page 38 of Jaxon

“When?” Jaxon asked.

“Now.”

“That’s my girl,” Jaxon said with a grin. He slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against his side as they began the walk to her car.

Rachel relaxed into his embrace, drawing strength from his solid presence. The path ahead would not be easy, but Jaxon would be there to guide her. Together, they could face any challenge. Even the ghosts of the past.

They reached Rachel’s car, but neither of them moved to get in. An awkward silence fell as the weight of what was to come settled over them.

Rachel bit her lip, anxiety churning in her stomach. What if her dad didn’t want to see her? What if the wounds of the past were too deep to heal? She stared unseeing at the ground, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps.

A finger tilted her chin up. Jaxon gazed down at her, his eyes filled with understanding and compassion. “It’s going to be okay.”

She threw her arms around him, clinging to his solid strength. He wrapped her in a fierce embrace, his warmth seeping into her bones and calming her frayed nerves.

After a long moment, Rachel pulled back with a shaky smile. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Jaxon brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. “You’ll never have to find out.” His lips curved into a teasing grin.

Rachel laughed, the tension in her chest easing. Trust Jaxon to know exactly what to say to lift her spirits. She squeezed his hand and moved to get into the driver’s seat, determination overriding her anxiety. This was a new chapter waiting to be written. And she was ready to face it with her heart full of love - for herself, for her past, and for the man who made her whole.

“See you after,” Jaxon said, closing the door behind her.

She started the engine, meeting his gaze through the open window. A soft smile curved her lips.

Rachel drove off, her hands tightening around the steering wheel. She took a deep breath, centering herself. You can do this.

In the rearview mirror, she saw Jaxon’s figure grow smaller until he disappeared from view. The loss left an ache in her chest, but also a quiet strength. She wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

The road stretched endlessly ahead, both familiar and strange. So much had changed since the last time she traveled down this path. She was no longer the frightened girl running from her past, with no one to turn to and nowhere to go. Now she had a home. She had love. And she was ready to face the ghosts that had haunted her for far too long.

Rachel arrived at the old farmhouse as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with vibrant shades of red and gold. The familiar sight evoked a swell of bittersweet nostalgia. So many memories, good and bad, were etched into the weathered wood and stones of her childhood home.

She got out of the car on unsteady legs, her heart pounding. For a long moment, she simply stood there drinking in the sight. Then a figure emerged from the house, and she froze.

It was her dad. Older, more careworn, but unmistakably him. He paused at the top of the steps, staring at her with a complex mix of emotions flickering over his face.

Rachel opened her mouth, a thousand thoughts and feelings crowding her mind, but only one word came out.

“Dad?”

26

Rachel walked through the sliding glass doors, filling her with a surge of purpose. She was home. After weeks of uncertainty, the familiar routines of the ER soothed her frayed nerves. The controlled chaos, the steady beep of monitors, the purposeful rush of nurses and doctors moving from one critical patient to the next—it all gave her a sense of belonging.

Rachel moved to the nurse’s station and reviewed the files. Gunshot wound in room 3, heart attack in room 4, multi-car accident victims in rooms 6 through 8.

Her fingers tightened around the files as a spike of adrenaline shot through her. This was what she lived for. The chance to help people at their most vulnerable, to use her skills to save lives and stitch broken bodies back together.

She hurried to room 3, her sensible heels clicking efficiently against the linoleum floors. “How’s he doing?” she asked the doctor, stitching up the gunshot victim.

“BP is stabilizing. We need to monitor for internal bleeding.”

Rachel nodded, all business. “I’m on it.”

As she helped prep the patient for a CT scan, a fierce joy bloomed inside her chest. Jaxon had shown her a side of life she’d never known, a wildness and passion that both thrilled and frightened her. But this—this was her true calling. Helping those who needed it most. Using her gifts to make a difference. Rachel smiled, feeling more at peace than she had in a long time. She was exactly where she was meant to be.

That evening, Rachel’s phone buzzed with a text from Jaxon. “Meet me outside.”

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