Page 32 of Promise of a New Beginning
“I don’t know what it was, but I know that I can’t get him out of my head,” Savannah admitted.
He looked into Savannah’s eyes with a serious face. “Then you know about his wife?” Treat spoke with the same paternal tone her father did.
She lowered her eyes. “Yeah. Just that she died. I don’t know how or any of that, and I know that the last thing I need is a guy who’s still living with the ghost of his dead wife. But, Treat, why can’t I get him out of my head? I mean, with most guys, I’m strong. I make them work to date me. Well, maybe not Connor. Heaven only knows how screwed up I am to have let him mess with my head for so long. But you know me. I’m not a pushover, and from the minute I saw Jack, I was….” She covered her face with her hands again and shook her head with a groan. “He’s this weird dichotomy of tough and tender, and it’s frustrating and scary, and I don’t know if I should run away or run toward him.”
“You know when I met Max she was the same way.” His voice softened. “She wore a coat of armor so thick, I never thought I’d break through. But in those moments when we were close, I saw hints of her softness, and I knew I had to try.” Treat looked away, as if he were watching a memory unfold.
“I’m not sure it’s the same as the harshness that he has. He lost his wife, and I think he feels like he doesn’t deserve to be happy or something.”
Treat took her hand in his. “Savannah, pain comes from all different sources. We build up walls that seem like they’ll protect us, and we stay behind them, safe from the world. Or from our fears, or whatever stuff we have going through our minds. And then someone comes along that causes a tiny crack in the wall, and suddenly there’s a stream of light breaking through. Pain is pain. It doesn’t matter where it comes from. It all hurts. And until the right person’s light shines through, there’s no impetus for change.” He placed his arm over her shoulder.
“So then what? We just never change?”
“Then we hide in our hole some more. But when the right person breaks through, anything is possible.”
“You could make dog poop sound romantic.” She rested her head against him.
“Blaming yourself for your spouse’s death is a big hurt, Savannah. He probably needs time.” Treat put his arm around her shoulder as she sat up.
Blaming yourself?“What do you mean,blaming yourself?”
“I thought you knew. According to Rush, Jack blames himself for his wife’s death. Apparently, there was a storm. He’d just come back from an extended tour and was exhausted. He let her go out in the car alone, and shortly after she left, the storm picked up and…”
“And that’s when the accident happened. Oh my gosh, no wonder he’s haunted.” Savannah remembered the anguish she’d seen in his eyes when he told her that he wasn’t sure if he could move beyond his past.
“It’s worse than that, Vanny. He’s the one who found her.”
“Oh, no, Treat. That’s awful.” She ached for what Jack must be living with every moment of every day.
“How much do you like this guy, Savannah?”
“I don’t know. A lot,” she said honestly.
“Well, then, all I can do is support whatever you want to do. It seems like he’s a good man with really bad luck. So you tell me, what can I do to help you? Do you want me to talk you out of thinking about him?” He spoke with a serious tone, but Savannah recognized the tease in the way his eyes lit up.
“You know I won’t listen,” she admitted. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not contacting him and he hasn’t contacted me, so this whole thing will blow over and I’ll be left nursing another broken heart. I’m getting pretty good at that.”
Treat stood and pulled her into his arms. She relaxed against him, needing the security of his strength. It forced her to admit the thought she hadn’t wanted to breathe life into.
“This broken heart feels a lot different from any other I’ve ever had.”
Chapter Nineteen
JACK SAT ON the back deck of his chalet as the afternoon shifted into evening. The brisk air prickled his skin as he listened to the crickets, tree frogs, and other night sounds of the seven acres that buffered his chalet from the rest of the world, contemplating how he was going to approach his future. Every time he thought of calling Elise, his mind traveled to his brother Rush, and his gut tightened. Rush had never understood Jack’s need to disengage from the life he knew and the family he loved. After Linda’s death, Rush had tried to be supportive, and the more Jack fought his support, the colder Rush became. The last few times Jack had seen him, Rush had reminded him that if he hadn’t been so darn wrapped up in himself, he wouldn’t have let Linda go out in the storm. Jack saw red, and he’d finally called Rush for what he was.You’re a spoiled womanizer who wouldn’t know how it felt to love if it kicked you in the butt, let alone how it feels to lose the one you love.He’d been so angry that he’d taken it even further.If I never see you again, it’ll be soon enough.
He eyed the phone on the table by the glass doors. All it would take was one phone call. Elise would come and pick up Linda’s clothes, and he could be done with it and finally move forward. Jack’s gut told him otherwise. He couldn’t move forward with any sense of normalcy with his family chaos looming over him.
Jack rose to his feet and walked to the edge of the woods, feeling the call to walk in and disappear or fly back up to the mountains for another month. He’d been tempted to tell Savannah about the cabin in Colorado that he’d called home for the past few years, but fear had held him back. The attraction to Savannah had been so intense, so potent from the first moment he’d set eyes on her, that it had scared him to no end. He’d tried hard to deny it, but it was too strong. His resolve had cracked and he’d let Savannah in.Way in.But the cabin was sacred. It was his hideaway, the one place he didn’t have to worry about seeing Linda’s ghost, since he’d bought it after she’d passed away. Not even his family knew where it was. He wasn’t ready to expose the only safety net he had.What if I can’t pull my crap together?
Savannah’s face flashed in his mind, and he felt his heart opening. A smile stretched across his face with the thought of her. He reached up and ran his finger along the curve of his lips, disbelieving that the emotion could be felt in this of all places. The place that had thrust him so deeply into guilt and anger that he’d had to run away.Happiness.Even the thought of it felt odd in his mind. Jack laughed, a quick, unexpected laugh, then turned back toward the chalet.
“I can’t believe it,” he said with another slight laugh. He headed inside, feeling a rush of strength, and picked up the phone.
For a minute Jack stared at the receiver, playing out how he might acknowledge his brother when he called.Hey, Rush. It’s me, Jack.Or,Rush, hey, it’s Jack.Picking up the phone to call his brother should have been a simple act. So why was his chest constricting, and his jaw clenched? Why did he feel his body slip into some sort of defensive state with every nerve strung tight? Because every time he thought of Rush, he saw his father’s stoic face right behind him.
Jack set down the receiver and sank into a dining room chair. He leaned his elbows on his thighs and dropped his face to his hands.I’m so messed up. This is insane.Savannah’s words replayed in his mind.I’ve latched on to some worthless, angry, insecure mountain man.He sat up tall and breathed in, expanding his chest and broad shoulders to their full capacity.Worthless.He rose to his feet, curling his hands into fists.Insecure.He was anything but worthless and insecure. Angry, yes. What guy wouldn’t be angry? He killed his wife. But insecure? Worthless? Is that what everyone thought of him now?
He stalked down the step into the sunken living room and snagged the framed medal from the built-in bookshelves beside the fireplace and scanned it. He needed to reiterate his value in his own mind.Congressional Medal of Honor. Above and beyond the call of duty.He touched the glass above the wordvalor. Pride swelled within him, drawing his shoulders back. He flexed the muscles in his legs, feeling his strength, and he stood taller. He set the medal back on the bookshelves and, wearing courage like a cloak, he went back to the phone. Without any hesitation, he dialed Rush’s number. His heart pounded against his chest. Each ring of Rush’s phone sped up his pulse.
