Bursting With Love (12 page)

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Authors: Melissa Foster

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: Bursting With Love
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Chapter Twenty

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 fucking 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 ass, 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 the shit out of him. 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 shit 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.

“Son of a bitch,” 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 fucked 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 motherfucker wouldn’t be angry? He fucking 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 word
valor.
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.

“Hello?”

Rush’s deep, familiar voice sent a pain right through Jack’s chest. He swallowed to alleviate the tightening in his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, and his mouth was so dry he couldn’t form a single word.

“Hello?” Rush’s tone was guarded.

“Rush,” Jack managed.

Silence filled the airwaves.

“Rush, it’s Jack.”
Damn it
. He grasped for the right words. Hell, he grasped for any words. “Don’t hang up.”

“I’m not hanging up.”

The tension in Rush’s voice was equal to the fear in Jack’s as he pictured Rush standing, much like Jack was, with his body tense, legs rooted to the ground, biceps twitching.

“I know this is too fucking late and I wouldn’t blame you for hanging up after the things I’ve said to you.”
We’ve said to each other
. “Rush, I’m done running, man.” He closed his eyes, disbelieving that he’d just said the words he’d sworn he’d never say, much less want to say. After Linda died, he didn’t think he’d ever want to stop running away. Savannah made him realize how wrong he’d been.

He heard Rush blow out a breath, and Jack pictured his shockingly blue eyes—which were as light as Jack’s were dark—in a conflicted stare, a mixture of cold anger and warm brotherly love.

“I’m calling Elise to come get Linda’s things.”
Goddamn it, Rush. Talk to me!

“Don’t.” Rush’s emphatic statement took Jack by surprise.

“Don’t?”

“Her father’s really sick. Terminal. You’ll only upset her more,” Rush said.

“Terminal?” Jack’s voice faded to a whisper. “Ralph?” Before Linda’s death, Jack and Ralph had been close. He had fond memories of talking about the military and politics with Ralph, watching football together on Thanksgiving, and sharing many intimate conversations mulling over the differences between men and women. He smiled at the memories, but the smile quickly faded as he remembered their last interaction. It had been right after Linda’s accident, when Ralph had made no bones about his blaming Jack for Linda’s death. Jack had known then that it was grief speaking, but Ralph’s words had only confirmed what Jack believed to be true.

Jack rubbed the scar on the back of his arm.

“Jack, you’ve done enough damage to that family. Don’t make it worse,” Rush said.

His words sliced through Jack’s courage like a knife, leaving him grasping for strength as he lowered himself to the chair once again.

“Rush, I gotta see him.” Jack closed his eyes. He had to see him and clear the air. It wasn’t just Ralph who had said cutting, hurtful things.

“The guy’s on his deathbed, Jack. What good will it do?”

Rush’s voice softened, and Jack was glad for the change. Maybe there was hope for them after all.

“I’m not sure, but I owe it to Linda. We were solid before she…before the accident.”

“That was a long time ago, Jack. It took months for him to be able to move on, and he finally has. A lot has happened over the past two years while you’ve been hiding out like fucking Saddam Hussein.”

Jack stifled the urge to tell his brother to fuck off. Jack had earned his medal during the capture of Hussein, and he knew that Rush was just trying to push his buttons. He wondered if his father was right there behind him, goading him on. His father was always goading them on.
Be a man
.

Jack couldn’t get sidetracked by the bullshit going on with Rush. If Rush didn’t want to let Jack back into his life, that was something he’d deal with at another time. With this new information, the fragility of life reverberated through him like a double-sided blade. Every slice tried to steal his strength and courage. Jack rose to his feet and stared out the window and into the darkness.

“Fuck that. I owe this to Linda and I owe it to Ralph.” Savannah’s words ran through Jack’s mind.
I see Jack Remington, man, widower, soft-hearted-survivor-man-slash-pilot. Who can be a real ass when he gets scared.
Jack wasn’t going to run scared anymore. Today he was making changes, and nothing was going to stop him. Not even his love for his brother. “I called because I wanted to try to clear the air with you, Rush. You’re my brother, man, and I love you, but I get it. You still see me as some prick who ran away from his life, and I don’t know how to fix that. But I can fix the shit with Ralph, and I intend to. With or without your support.”

“Selfish as ever,” Rush said before hanging up the phone.

Jack lowered the receiver from his ear, clenching it so tightly that his knuckles were white. “Shit.” He would not be dissuaded. He went outside and snagged his backpack from his motorcycle and leafed through Savannah’s registration form; then he picked up the phone and dialed her number. His forehead was damp with sweat despite the cool breeze coming through the open dining room window as seconds ticked by and her phone rang two, three, four times and finally went to voicemail. Hope soared within his heart at the sound of her recorded voice, reiterating the reason he wanted to change.
Savannah
.

“Hey, this is Jack.”
Why do I sound so stern?
He made a conscious effort to soften his tone, pacing while he left the rest of his message to try to walk off residual frustration from his conversation with Rush. “Savannah, I…uh…”
Shit. I should have prepared
. “I’d like to see you. Talk to you. Whatever you want. I don’t care if we talk on the phone or…I sound like an idiot. I’m sorry. If you have any interest, please call me.” He left her his number and hung up the phone feeling as nervous as a high school kid asking a girl out for the first time.

Before he lost his courage, he called information and got the number for Elise. The phone rang three times, and he mentally prepared to leave a message.
Elise, this is Jack. I—

“Hello?”

Linda?
Jack held his breath.
Jesus, her voice was identical to Linda’s. Elise. It’s Elise
. It had been so long since he’d spoken to her that he’d forgotten how similar they sounded.

“Elise, this is Jack. Jack Remington. Please don’t hang up,” he pleaded.

“Jack? Oh my God, Jack. Why would I hang up?”

Tears filled his eyes. “Why would you—I can think of a hundred reasons.” The words tumbled out without thought. Relief stole the tension from his body. He leaned against the wall, his neck arched and his eyes locked on the ceiling.
Thank God
.

“Oh, Jack. I’m so glad you called. I was going to try to reach you, but I was afraid to. I didn’t know if you’d be angry, or if, you know, it’d be too much of a reminder.”

Elise’s kindness also reminded him of Linda, and he lingered in that pleasant memory for a beat before answering.

“I heard about your dad, Elise, and I’m really sorry. I know he probably doesn’t want to have anything to do with me, but I’d really like to apologize to him. In person if he’ll allow it.”
Come on. Give me this one break.

“He wants that, too, Jack. He feels horrible about the things he said. He drove out to your house once a week for months, just to try to get in touch with you. He said he left letters.”

Jack swallowed the thick, acidic taste of guilt. “He did. I got them, but I never opened them. I couldn’t, Elise. I could barely breathe. I know that sounds dramatic and probably crazy, but for a while there, I think I was crazy. It took a long time for me to become clearheaded, and the anger ran so deep that I couldn’t deal with any of it.”

“We know, Jack. Remember we all knew you before Linda’s accident, and people don’t change overnight. We knew you were grieving.”

Hearing her assess his emotions so easily and without judgment—so different from Rush’s harsh reaction—drew tears from Jack. He clenched his eyes shut and pressed his finger and thumb to them, but he could not stop the flow of tears. He sucked in a quick breath in an effort to compose himself, but it didn’t help.

“Oh, Jack,” Elise said. “Honey, you’ve been angry for so long that you probably haven’t grieved.”

Jack sucked in another breath. “I…” His voice was swallowed by more tears. His lower jaw shook with the force of his sadness. “I’m sorry,” he finally managed, though it came out as a whisper.
Could I have been so angry that I never really grieved?
He had no idea if that was possible, but he was so thankful for Elise’s kindness, and the memory and feelings it evoked, that he didn’t care. If he had yet to grieve, he could face that. Now he could face anything.

“Jack, please. We’re past the accusations and the anger, but we’re all very worried about you. Linda wouldn’t have wanted you to hide away from the world for so long. You know that. She’d want you to be happy and to live a fulfilled life, Jack. Linda loved you, and that’s what people who love each other hope for.”

He sank to the floor. “Thank you,” he said in a gravelly, shaky voice.

“You don’t have to thank me, Jack. I care about you. We all do.”

“Elise, I have…” He took a deep breath, trying to keep the sobs that were wrenching his chest to keep from swallowing his voice again. “I have Linda’s clothes. I can’t keep them.”

“Linda’s clothes? You’ve had them all this time?”

Jack nodded, then realized she couldn’t see him. “Yes. Baby clothes, too.” Fresh sobs burst forth, and he buried his eyes in the crook of his elbow.

“Oh, Jack,” Elise whispered. “Are you home?”

“Yes.”

“I’m coming over.”

The line went dead, but Jack couldn’t lift his arm to set the receiver on the console. He couldn’t raise his head from his arms. He could barely breathe as the grief worked its way through every cell of his body. His limbs trembled, his stomach ached, and his goddamn teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. Jack gave in to the helpless state, and the room filled with his cries as misery worked its way from somewhere deep within the recesses of his heart and soul and left him feeling depleted and hollow.

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