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Authors: Jennifer Ryan

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BOOK: Dylan's Redemption
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It hurt just looking at him.

His eyes tracked her progress from the moment she got out of the car. Ignoring him, she walked toward the grave site. To her surprise, Pop and Greg came to lend their support. Not that she needed it. Nice to have some friends among the many people who only came to see her miraculous return.

She never expected all these people to turn out, but if they stuck around long enough they’d get an eyeful of just what Jessie Thompson thought of her old man.

Dylan didn’t miss Jessie’s arrival. Who could miss a beautiful woman getting out of a Porsche? She wore black jeans and boots with a white blouse that softly flowed down her body and clung to the curve of her breasts and waist. She carried a black tote bag. He wondered what she’d brought along. She wore her hair down today and the mass of wavy brown hair danced behind her in the wind.

She didn’t even look at him, but walked straight over to two men who recently arrived. He didn’t know them, but they sure knew Jessie. They smiled as she approached, and she returned their smile. He wished she’d smile at him that way. Alarms went off in his mind.

Could that guy be her boyfriend, or worse, her husband?

She’d legally changed her name at eighteen. Why? To hide her identity from her father and anyone else curious enough to look for her. Or did she marry that man? If so, why didn’t they show up here together? No. Not a husband, but someone close.

She walked into the older man’s arms. Maybe she was seeing the younger one, but at least she hadn’t gone straight to him. Irrational, but it made him feel better. Dylan couldn’t hear the exchange and wished he could walk over, put his arm around her, pull her to his side, and tell them and everyone else Jessie belonged to him. He wished she did.

“P
OP, YOU CAME
.” Jessie hugged him tight. “What are you doing here? I told you to take it easy.”

“Ah, darlin’, I wanted to be here for you. Just in case you needed me.”

“I’ll always need you.” She let go of Pop and went into Greg’s arms.

He kissed her temple and held her tight. For a moment, she leaned into him and took in his strength. Her friend and confidant, he knew everything about her father and Dylan. He’d been the one to get her to open up about how she’d landed in Solomon in the first place. He’d listened and helped her put things into perspective. He’d been with her when she had Hope and when she lost her.

“I see Sheriff McBride is here. Shall I kill him now, or wait until after the funeral?” Greg’s voice took on that dry tone he used when he made a joke but was really serious.

She smiled and kissed his cheek. “Why not wait until after the funeral. Once they lower the old man into his dark, cold grave, we can send Dylan in after him. I can bury two for the price of one,” she quipped, not really feeling it. Dylan hadn’t done anything wrong. Not really. Yes, he left her without a second thought, and that hurt, but what his mother did was far worse.

“That brilliant mind is always working, J.T.” He cupped her face in his hands and gazed into her eyes. “Are you ready for this? Everyone’s staring at you. They want to know what happened and why you left.”

She put her hands on his arms and leaned her forehead against his chin. It never hurt to let someone love you, especially a good friend like Greg.

“I’m ready. It’s time to put the past to rest, along with Buddy Thompson.” Now that she’d come back to Fallbrook, she’d have to finish it one way or another.

She broke free from Greg and went to the preacher to ask him to begin the service. She’d made all the plans and didn’t care what anyone thought. Like everything else in her life, she’d do this her way.

The preacher called everyone’s attention to the graveside and they gathered around. No chairs; Jessie hadn’t planned for anyone but her, Brian, and Marilee to attend.

Dylan watched her with the two men, and the intimacy between her and the younger one. The older man looked on like a father watching his children. Dylan had a suspicion the two men were indeed father and son. He wondered how Jessie fit into their family. He had to know if he’d lost her to that man.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She stood beside the grave, her arms crossed under her breasts, face blank, eyes unfocused on the casket. No flowers. Nothing to pretty up this service. Her expression said it all. She was impatient to have the deed done.

The preacher said a silent prayer before looking up at those who had gathered to mourn the passing of Buddy Thompson. Clearing his throat, he spoke only a single sentence.

“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

The preacher’s words penetrated the quiet group, and the silence in the cemetery took on a presence of its own. Everyone held a collective breath waiting to see what happened next.

Dylan smiled. Leave it to Jessie to get the last word and put her father in his place.

The preacher crossed himself, hung his head in another silent prayer, then turned to Brian and shook his hand. They spoke for a moment, the preacher probably offering his condolences. Next, he went to Jessie. No words exchanged, only an envelope and a handshake. Jessie had apparently been the one to pay for the preacher and the funeral.

She could afford it. She owned her own construction company. Last night, he sat in front of his office computer ferreting out every detail he could find about her. Or, rather, J. T. Langley. He didn’t know where she got the last name, but he’d find out. What he discovered amazed him. She’d earned a college degree in business. In addition to having two business licenses and her contracting license, she owned the thriving company. Once he discovered she owned Hope Construction, everything else fell into place. Most of the information he found was under the company name, not her new name, including a fleet of vehicles. She’d never been arrested or even gotten a speeding ticket.

He gathered facts and figures, but it still wasn’t enough. He wanted the details of her life, and only those could come from her. If she’d only talk to him. He wanted to know everything. Like why she’d called his mother to find him. Maybe today he’d get the answers.

If nothing else, he needed to say his piece. He’d thought he’d lost his chance when he believed she died. Now, he wanted to tell her how sorry he was for not knowing about Buddy. For leaving without saying goodbye.

For not being the kind of friend she’d been to him.

He often dreamed about her (prom night and the backseat of his Mustang), but last night he’d brought Jessie into the here and now. He dreamed of her as the woman she grew into and what it would be like to have her today.

To his surprise, the preacher announced Jessie would like everyone to leave. She stood with her arms crossed and her face blank, never acknowledging anyone. Not until the two men she knew approached her again, setting Dylan’s back teeth to grinding.

 

Chapter Nine

“A
RE YOU GOING
to be all right, Jessie?”

“Yes, Pop. I’ll be fine. I’m going to have a drink with the old man. I have a few things to say to him, and I’d like my privacy. I’ll give you a call later.”

Pop gave her a hug from behind. She hadn’t turned away from the casket to talk to him. She didn’t move when he embraced her, except to lean back against him.

Greg kissed her on the top of her head and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him and he held her for a moment. There for her when she needed him, he didn’t have to say anything.

She worked a man’s job and sometimes forgot she wasn’t as strong as she always felt she had to be. Today, a piece of her wanted to weep for the injustices of life.

You can’t pick your parents. Jessie ended up with a father who’d rather hurt her than love her, and a mother whose demons drove her take her own life.

Greg was lucky. His father loved him, encouraged him, and was a friend as well as a parent. He treated Jessie as his own daughter, which is why she’d changed her name to Langley. Yes, to hide, but also because she found a place she belonged and was wanted. For the last eight years, she’d had someone to treat her the way a daughter deserved to be treated. Pop loved her. She knew what that love should feel like now. It wasn’t what she’d gotten from Buddy Thompson.

Greg would understand she hurt when she reached up and held his forearm and leaned her chin on his arm. He stood and waited for her to stand on her own again. The only show of weakness she’d allow herself. He’d give her the time she needed. When her hands left his arm and she stood without leaning back on him, he released her with another kiss on her head.

“I’d really love to punch him until he hurts as much as you did when he left you alone,” Greg said close to her ear. She smiled ruefully. Today wasn’t the day to confront the sheriff on her behalf. But she appreciated the sentiment all the same.

He and his father walked away, leaving her with her brother, sister-in-law, and the sheriff.

“Jessie, thank you for taking care of the arrangements. We really appreciate everything you’ve done,” Marilee’s soft voice came from behind her.

Jessie lost herself in the storm of memories brewing. Like pelting rain, each drop another bad memory coming to the surface in her mind.

“Sure, Marilee. No problem,” she said absently.

Her brother stood across from her on the other side of the casket. His hands trembled, but his eyes were clear.

“Brian, I’m going by Dad’s house later. I’ll make a list of the supplies we’ll need. I’ll have a crew there on Monday to get things moving. If you want to meet me there and tell me what you want to keep and what you want to go, I’ll have the crew haul it away.”

Brian screwed up. As a little girl, Jessie looked up to him. She used to tag along after him and Dylan everywhere they went. He’d given her a hard time, called her names, and told her he hated having her around all the time. He did all those terrible things an older brother does to torment a little sister and all she’d wanted was someone to protect her.

A hollowness took over his inside, leaving him empty. Hearing her tell him she’d take care of everything only proved how much he’d failed her.

Time to swallow what little pride he had left and let her help him. Somehow, he’d find a way to pay her back.

His wife laid down the law yesterday. He either took his sister’s offer of a job and her help to get them back on their feet, or he’d end up alone. Marilee vowed to take the baby and the money his sister offered and she’d leave him for good. He couldn’t let that happen. He loved Marilee, and he looked forward to having the baby. He wanted to be a good husband and father. Better start putting his family first. That meant accepting his sister’s help.

“Brian,” Jessie coaxed.

“Gut the house. There’s nothing worth saving. Whatever changes you think are necessary, make them. If you want me there on Monday, I’ll be there.”

Jessie didn’t think his working on the house would be a good idea. Besides, she’d like to surprise him and Marilee. Her way of giving them a wedding and baby gift all in one, since she missed their wedding.

“Go to the jobsite and report to James like I told Marilee yesterday. I’ll take care of the house. Did the lawyer contact you?”

Brian nodded. “Dad left everything to me, the house and all its contents. A savings account from the sale of Dad’s business and whatever he had in his checking account. You should have gotten half of everything. You were his daughter.”

She held back her automatic retort,
not really
. At least, not according to her mother. It didn’t really matter. She didn’t need the money or half the property. She had her own house and money. Brian had a wife and child to consider. He needed both more than she did.

“I’m fine with the way things turned out.”

“You’re fine with how things turned out? You’re fine?” He put his hands on his hips and stared her down.

She felt his anger, which had nothing to do with their father or what he’d left to Brian. He suffered an attack of conscience. She didn’t want to rehash the past and all the times he’d walked out the door while Buddy punished her for being her mother’s daughter.

“Brian, listen very carefully, because you and I are only going to have this conversation once. Today
I
am burying the past. I hope you can too. What’s done is done. I can’t change it, and neither can you. As far as I’m concerned, you and I are starting over today. I expect you to show up to work tomorrow morning and be the man I always knew you’d be. Maybe you don’t want to be in construction again, but I’m giving you a chance to get back on your feet, and I hope you’ll take it. Whatever you want to do once you’ve gotten out of the hole you’ve put yourself in is up to you. You’ll be able to provide for your family. I want us to get to know each other again. I’m going to be an aunt. I’d really like to watch my niece or nephew grow up. Nothing would please me more than to be a part of your life.

“We were kids. You were just a kid. You knew what would happen if you tried to step in and help me. I’ve grown up and I can look back without it hurting so much. I have a new life now, one I’m proud of.”

“I hear everything you’ve said and everything you didn’t. I am two years older than you and was just as big as Dad by my freshman year in high school. I had the height and the strength to stop the old man. I didn’t. Never even tried. He scared me. I was afraid he’d hurt you more. At the time, it seemed so much simpler to turn my back and pretend nothing happened, so he didn’t come after me.

“I can remember so many times he’d hit you and you’d stand your ground. Tears would come to your eyes and fall and I could tell you begrudged each and every one of them. Every time he hit you, and you didn’t bend or cry out, he’d get angrier and hit you harder. Bruises. God, the bruises all over you.”

Unable to move, her chest tight, she stood, listening. Her hands on her hips, she leaned on her right leg. His words and the hurt in them washed over her and she slowly raised her face to the sky and her eyes filled with tears.

“The more he’d argue with you and you countered everything he’d say, he’d just be meaner. So many times I wished you’d just back down one time. Let him win one time. You never did. It’s taken me this long to realize even if you had, he still wouldn’t have stopped. I don’t know how you took so much and never broke.

BOOK: Dylan's Redemption
10.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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