02_The Hero Next Door (17 page)

His brother’s head snapped up.

For one brief second, surprise added a touch of life to his flat eyes. Then the emptiness returned. Without a word, he dropped his gaze to his hands again.

A wave of panic crashed over J.C. While the anger in his brother’s eyes had often frightened him, this beaten look scared him more.

Taking a seat across the table from Nathan, he sent one final, silent prayer heavenward.
Please, Lord, give me the words!

“I saw the letters, Nathan. And the notebooks.”

His brother didn’t look up.

“I never knew you could draw.”

No response.

Following his instincts—and praying they wouldn’t fail him—J.C. changed tacks. “But I did think you were too smart to pull a dumb stunt like suicide.” He let that sink in, noting the slight stiffening in Nathan’s shoulders. “Do you have any
idea how long it took to get here from Nantucket? Ten hours. And let me tell you, flying these days is no picnic. To make matters worse, I’ve had less than six hours of sleep in the past thirty-six hours. I’m tired, hungry and stressed. Trust me. I didn’t come all this way to be ignored.”

Nathan still didn’t look up. Didn’t move a muscle. But J.C. saw his Adam’s apple bob. And when his brother spoke, the tremor in his muted words suggested he was barely holding on to his control.

“I didn’t ask you to come.” J.C. suspected the psychologist would disapprove of his approach. Would tell him it was a bad idea to upset Nathan. But to J.C.’s way of thinking,
some
emotion was better than no emotion. It meant a person was still capable of feeling. And once feelings were awakened, you had a chance of turning them from negative to positive. His next task.

Leaning close, he laid his hand over his brother’s. The guards edged in. He ignored them.

When Nathan tried to pull away, J.C. tightened his grip. And kept tightening it until Nathan looked up at him. Locking on to his brother’s eyes, J.C. didn’t let go. “Here’s the bottom line, Nathan. I don’t care how much effort it took to get here. Because you’re worth it.”

Disgust and self-recrimination twisted the younger man’s features. He lowered his head and tried to pull away, but J.C. held fast. “No, I’m not. You should have given up on me years ago.”

“I never give up on people I love.”

Sudden moisture dampened the edges of Nathan’s distraught eyes, and his chest began to heave. “Why don’t you just let this go? I’m no good. I never have been. Everything I touch turns to trouble. My life is one big failure. I couldn’t even kill myself right.” His voice broke.

“I think God’s hand was in that,” J.C. said quietly. “He must have something better in store for you before He calls you home.”

Cynicism twisted Nathan’s lips. “Right. An ex-con has so much to look forward to.”

“You have an extraordinary talent. When you get out of here in two years, you can choose to turn your life around. And you don’t have to do it alone. You have me and Marci. As well as the Lord, if you’ll give Him a chance.”

There was bitterness in his brother’s brief, mirthless laugh. “I have about as much chance of connecting with the Lord as I do with Marci.”

“Then the odds aren’t too bad.”

Nathan narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“She’s here.”

Shock echoed on Nathan’s face. “Marci came?”

“Yes. She wants to talk to you after I’m finished.”

Nathan focused on J.C.’s hand, still resting atop his. The seconds ticked by. His face contorted. And then he said the words J.C. had prayed he’d hear. “Look…I’m sorry about the bust.” The apology came out in a hoarse whisper. “I didn’t know the guy who asked me about you had an agenda.”

“I figured that was the case.”

“Two people died because of me.”

“It wasn’t deliberate.”

“That doesn’t bring them back.” His voice splintered.

“No. But ending your life, or wasting it, isn’t going to restore theirs. It’s just another life lost.”

Silence hung in the room for a few moments.

“You know, all these years…I thought it would be better for you and Marci if I distanced myself.” Nathan’s hand spasmed, and J.C. gave it a reassuring squeeze as his brother blinked away tears. “All I ever brought the two of you was trouble. I figured you’d be better off without me. So I did everything I could to push you away. But you never gave up.” He lifted his chin and studied J.C., his expression anguished and confused. “How could you keep loving me?”

“Love doesn’t come with conditions, Nathan. Jesus taught us that. We didn’t deserve His love, either, when He died for us on the cross. And we don’t deserve it now. But He gives it, anyway, no matter how many mistakes we make. I try to follow His example.”

Leaning closer, J.C. put his other hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “Besides, you’re my brother. I bandaged your scraped knees and cut your hair and loaned you my comic books, even if you did have a tendency to get bubble gum stuck on them. We have a lot of history. And I’d like to think we have a future, too.”

The sheen was back in Nathan’s eyes. “You know, I wouldn’t have survived in this place without your letters.” He choked out the words.

J.C. felt the pressure of tears behind his own eyes. “You better get a new box, then, because they’re going to keep coming. More often, now that I know you read them.”

“Promise?”

At Nathan’s plaintive question, J.C. was suddenly transported back to his kid brother’s kindergarten days. For the first few weeks, when J.C. had left him in the school yard and told him he’d pick him up at the end of the day, six-year-old Nathan had clung to him and issued that identical query in the same anxious tone.

“Promise.” J.C. squeezed Nathan’s hand. “Marci’s waiting. May I send her in?”

“Yeah. We have a few fences of our own to mend.”

“Would you consider talking to Reverend Taylor, too? He’s a good man. With a good message to share.”

Nathan gave a slow nod. “I will if it means that much to you.”

“It does.” J.C. rose. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

A whisper of a smile tugged at Nathan’s lips. “I’ll be here.”

That touch of humor did more to dispel the lingering knot of tension in J.C.’s stomach than anything else.

“Hang in there. We’ll get through this. Together.”

And as he left to get Marci, J.C. prayed Nathan would hold that last, hope-filled word close to his heart as a reminder that he would never be alone—no matter what challenges the future might hold.

Four days later, J.C. scanned the terminal, duffel bag in hand, for the woman he’d missed more than he’d thought possible. When he spotted her, dressed in a teal-green silk dress, her eyes warm with welcome, his pulse accelerated.

Erasing the distance between them, he rested his free hand on her shoulder and bent to brush his lips over hers.

“Hi.” He stayed close, enjoying the play of light in her hazel irises and the sweet curve of her mouth.

“Hi.”

“Thanks for picking me up. Are we still on for dinner?”

“Unless you plan to cancel again.”

“Not a chance.” Taking her hand, he guided her out of the terminal.

She fell into step beside him. “How’s everything in Chicago?”

“Better than I expected. I’ll fill you in on the drive.”

By the time they parked in front of the restaurant, high on a bluff overlooking the Atlantic, he’d brought her up to speed on his family situation. That meant he had the whole dinner to focus on them. Just as he’d planned.

As the waiter showed them to their ocean-view table on the porch, soft piano music drifted through the evening air. Cascades of blue hydrangeas spilled from bushes rimming the front lawn, and appetizing aromas wafted their way from the kitchen.

“This is nice.” Heather smoothed the white linen cloth with her fingers, touched the velvet-soft petals of the rose on the table, looked out over the sea. “What a great view.”

“I agree.”

She turned back to him, and her endearing blush when she discovered he was looking at her brought a smile to his lips.

Reaching for her hand, he entwined their fingers. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“I had an interesting discussion with Burke at the station before I left.” He watched her eyes. “One of the detectives is retiring in the fall. The job is mine if I want it.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Are you interested in taking it?”

“That depends on a tearoom owner I know.”

A slight frown marred her brow, and J.C. stopped breathing.

“What if…” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “What if you give up your job in Chicago and things don’t…work out…between us?”

“Do you expect that to happen?”

“No. But the Anderson women don’t have a good track record with men.”

“I plan to be the exception. But if by some chance things don’t go as I hope they do, I’ll find a job somewhere else. Cops are always in demand. And for the record, I want you to know I’m not rushing you. We’ll take as long as we need to be certain. I just want to make sure you’re willing to give this a chance and see where it leads.”

A slow smile warmed Heather’s face, dispelling J.C.’s fears as surely as the sun chases away the fog on a Nantucket morning.

“I’ve never been much of a gambler…but I have a feeling this time the odds are in my favor. Take the job, J.C.”

Returning her smile, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “I’ll express my feelings on this subject more thoroughly after dinner.”

And two hours later, as they strolled hand in hand along a
bluff above the beach toward her car, as a canopy of stars twinkled above them, as a rising moon turned the sea to silver, he kept his promise.

Five months later

“S
o where are we going?”

At Heather’s question, J.C. gave her a quick grin before turning his attention back to the road. “It’s a surprise. Are you ready for your family to descend for the holidays?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“Guilty. But humor me, okay? I’ll make it worth your while.”

“That sounds like a bribe.”

Mock horror suffused his face. “From a cop? Never.”

Shooting him a disgruntled look, she folded her arms across her chest. “You aren’t going to budge, are you?”

“Nope.”

Giving up, she settled back in the seat and cracked her window, enjoying the sixty-two-degree temperature and the cloudless blue sky, which made it feel more like spring than mid-December. The unseasonably warm weather, in fact, was what had prompted this unexpected outing. J.C. had come knocking at her door half an hour ago, and using that cajoling smile she loved, he’d persuaded her to set
aside her baking for a few hours and take advantage of the glorious day.

It had not been a hard sell.

She took a deep breath of the fresh air. “To answer your question, yes, I’m ready for my family. Susan and Brian are arriving three days before Christmas. Dad’s coming a week early. He told me this morning that the latest MRI was fine.”

“That’s great news.” J.C. turned off on the road to Bartlett’s Farm.

She grinned. “Okay. I’ve got it. We’re going to get some macaroons, right?”

“Nope. I had some good news this morning, too. Marci’s going to ace this semester despite working full-time. And Nathan expects to finish his GED by summer.”

Though his tone was casual, Heather heard the pride in his voice. And the contentment. Such a change from the early days of their relationship, she reflected, when worry about his brother and anguish over the drug bust had etched his features with dejection and grief.

“It sounds like everything is falling into place with your family, too.”

“Just about. I only have one more detail to work out.”

Before she could query him about that comment, he passed Bartlett’s Farm and turned onto an unpaved road. Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Are we going to Ladies Beach?”

“Yep.” The undercurrent of excitement in his single-word response and the half smile playing at his lips sent a tingle of excitement zipping through her.

Something was up.

A few minutes later, she caught sight of a uniformed Todd standing beside a police car, arms folded across his chest as he gazed out to sea. Like a sentinel.

When he saw them approaching, he lifted his hand in
greeting, rounded the car and slid into the driver’s seat. As he passed, he grinned and gave a thumbs-up.

“What was that all about?” Heather swiveled her head to watch him drive away.

Instead of answering, J.C. pulled close to where Todd had been parked, set the brake and shut off the engine. “Your questions are about to be answered. Sit tight until I come around.”

She did as he asked, waiting while he lifted the trunk lid, then slammed it shut. When he pulled her door open, he was holding a wicker basket.

“We’re having a picnic on the beach? In December?”

“Why not? I can’t think of a better place to celebrate.”

She climbed out of the car and stood beside him. “What are we celebrating?”

Taking her hand, he walked her over to the edge of the bluff and positioned her toward the sea.

Heather stopped breathing.

Below her, a giant heart had been drawn in the sand. In the center were the words
Will you be mine?
Beside it a small lean-to had been erected, a towel spread on the sand inside it, a fire burning in a small grate in front of it.

“I’ve been waiting three weeks for a nice enough day to do this.”

At J.C.’s husky confession, Heather turned toward him. The warmth in his eyes was more than sufficient to dispel the slight chill from the ocean breeze.

Setting the basket on the sand, he took her hands in his strong, lean fingers, and his eyes softened with tenderness. “These past few months have been the happiest of my life, Heather. I didn’t come to Nantucket looking for romance, but God surprised me. He put you in my life—and I can’t imagine spending the rest of it without you. I love you more than I thought it was possible to love anyone.” He inclined his head toward the beach and swallowed. Hard. “I think I’ve already
tipped my hand, but…would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Joy spilled out of her heart, suffusing her entire body with radiant warmth. “I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you, either.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Do I need to spell it out?”

He grinned. “That would be nice.”

Grinning, she tugged her hands free and scrambled down to the beach, grabbing a stick en route. Trotting over to the giant heart, she drew a smaller one beside it. Inside, she wrote one word.

Yes!!!

Tossing the stick aside, she planted her hands on her hips and grinned up at him. “Good enough?”

Instead of responding, he snagged the picnic basket, descended to the beach and took her in his arms. “Not until we seal it with a kiss.”

He leaned toward her, but she pulled back. “Wait. I have one question. What if this nice weather hadn’t happened on a day when the tearoom was closed?”

A smug smile lifted his lips. “Edith was going to fill in after I spirited you away on some excuse.”

Heather chuckled. Being clued in to the proposal would have been the proverbial icing on the cake for the Lighthouse Lane matchmaker.

“Why do I think there will be a message on my answering machine when I get home, offering me some sort of sweet treat?”

J.C. smiled. “There’s only one sweet treat that interests me at the moment.”

He pulled her close, into the shelter of his arms, and as the pounding of the surf mingled with the pounding of her heart, she gave thanks.

For this special man, who had taught her to trust—and to hope.

For new beginnings.

And for the gift of true love. The kind that endured, undimmed by adversity.

The kind J.C. had offered her.

For always.