Paper Hearts (22 page)

N
OT LONG AFTER
J
ACOB ARRIVED,
the doctors whisked in and took Kate away.

“She refused treatment until Junie had someone here with her,” one of the nurses told him.

A little later, the nurses took Junie away so the doctor could set her leg. They informed Abigail that both Kate and Junie would be staying overnight for observation. An hour after that, Abigail found herself nodding off in the uncomfortable chair against the wall. Every time she woke up, she saw Jacob across the room at Junie’s side, a pained look on his face.

Twice she’d tried to leave and twice he’d inexplicably asked her to stay.

Why this man
 
—this man who was apparently intent on ruining everything she’d worked so hard to build
 
—wanted her to stay here with him, she might never know.

But she stayed. Because that’s the kind of person she was.

And because there was something so desperately heartbreaking behind his eyes.

Morning came, and Abigail awoke to the early sun pouring through the windows. Saturdays at the bookstore were busy, but the thought of going into work made her cringe. Outside, snow had blanketed all of Loves Park. Plows had been working all night, but they’d been unable to keep up with Mother Nature.

As if she believed in Mother Nature.

Why, God? Why this accident? Why these people?
She closed her eyes.
Bring him peace, Lord. Your kind of peace. The kind that makes no sense.

Kate had been admitted with a concussion doctors wanted to monitor. Jacob hadn’t received the news particularly well, but at least they’d put both Kate and Junie in the same room. Now, with everyone sleeping
 
—Jacob still in a chair beside Junie
 
—Abigail saw her opportunity for a clean getaway. She wasn’t responsible for this man’s happiness
 
—or his sorrow. She had no reason to stay another second.

And yet . . .

Hospital coffee would probably taste like sludge, and after the night they’d all had, they could use some of the good stuff. She fished Jacob’s keys from his coat pocket, but when she turned, she found Kate’s eyes open and locked on her.

“Hey.” Abigail made her way around Junie’s bed and over to Kate’s.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting some coffee. I figured we could all use some.”

Kate opened her mouth, then closed it again. “My mouth is so dry.”

Abigail poured her a cup of water. She drank it, then forced out a thank-you.

“Do you need anything else while I’m out?”

Kate swallowed. “My own pajamas? And Junie’s teddy bear.”

Abigail glanced at the little girl, still sleeping soundly. They’d likely be going home later that morning, so why did she need a stuffed animal?

“She’s going to freak out when she wakes up,” Kate said, answering the unspoken question. “We aren’t exactly hospital people.” Kate gave a halfhearted smile. “Key’s on the ring. You know the address?”

Abigail knew the address. The house had been on the market for almost a year before Jacob bought it. It had been the talk of the town. A beautiful place in the mountains. The kind of place everyone dreamed of buying. She nodded. “I don’t feel comfortable going through anyone’s things, though.”

Kate’s eyelids looked heavy when she blinked. “It’s fine. Maybe grab him a change of clothes too.”

Now she really felt awkward about this mission, but what could she say? They didn’t have anyone else, and the little girl needed her teddy bear. “I’ll be back.”

She reached the door just as Kate said her name. Abigail turned.

Jacob’s sister slowly glanced at him, dozing in the chair and looking more uncomfortable than she’d felt throughout the whole of the previous night. “He really needed you last night. Thanks for being there.”

Abigail bit her lip, unsure how to respond.

“He doesn’t ever let on that he needs anyone, but you just seemed to know.” Kate brushed a hand over her hair. “Thanks.”

Abigail gave a nod and walked away, her head spinning as she tried to make sense of her role in all of this. Surely Jacob had only latched on to her because she was there
 
—not for any other reason. Not because he wanted anything more from her than just the typical tenant/landlord relationship.

Or maybe they could be friends.

Good friends?

Don’t push it.

She rushed out to the truck and drove as carefully as she could toward Jacob’s house on the edge of town. The roads were snow-packed and slick, but she’d been driving in this weather her whole life. She could read the road under the tires.

Still, she let out a sigh of relief when she pulled into the long driveway in front of the house. Out back a dog stood near an old shed, looking hungry and mangy. Jacob seemed like the kind of guy who’d have a dog, though she would’ve expected him to take care of it a little better.

When she got out of the truck, the dog took off into the woods behind the house. She’d look around for food and a bowl, but only after she got what she came for.

She stood on the porch and inhaled a chilly breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

Abigail pushed open the door. She’d always wanted to see the inside of this house. She could’ve walked through it so many times, but Wyatt was the listing agent, and the thought of running into him had been enough to keep her away.

She passed through the entryway and into the living room. Windows lined one wall of the living space, and at the center of the other wall was a fireplace that nearly took her breath away. Stones in various shapes and sizes framed the fireplace and its thick wooden mantel, making their way up to the peaked ceiling. Piles of chopped firewood had been stacked on the hearth. An image of Jacob out back chopping logs raced briefly through her mind, but she shoved it aside.

Remember why you’re here.

Abigail thought she recognized the couch and chairs from the real estate photos online. Maybe he’d purchased the place furnished. People did that, right? The furnishings certainly didn’t suit the space, in her opinion. Her mind, as it often did, began redecorating. What she could do in a room like this one. Some of her refurbished furniture would be just the thing.

As she passed through the living room into the study, she tried to remember what she’d come for. Surely it wasn’t so she could snoop around the doctor’s home, though that was tempting. Maybe she’d uncover more about his life
 
—something, anything to explain why the hospital had warranted such a strong reaction.

After all, he should’ve been accustomed to hospitals, given his profession.

The hallway leading back to the bedrooms was long but not narrow. No photos on the walls. Nothing personal in the house anywhere, really. But he’d only moved in a few months ago, she reminded herself as she flipped on the light in what she soon found out was Jacob’s bedroom. Maybe that was why there were so many boxes piled up in the corner.

Kate had said to bring him a change of clothes. She stood outside the closet, staring into the sea of dress shirts and ties. She’d never seen him wearing any of these. Not that she’d seen him every day or anything, but they seemed out of place given what she knew of him. She ran a hand over the shirts, all pressed with that chemical dry-cleaned smell.

She hadn’t wondered before, but now it occurred to her that it was strange for a doctor to up and move to another town, then buy a building that looked nothing like a clinic just to renovate it and turn it into a medical practice.

And he didn’t seem to be in any hurry, otherwise he wouldn’t be doing any of the work himself. Was he independently wealthy?

Obviously. He’d had enough money to buy the building in cash.

Abigail shook the thoughts away, fully aware of how ridiculous it was to speculate
 
—and fully aware of how little she really knew about this man.

Doctor who didn’t currently practice. Divorced. One kid. Nice sister. A little bit too good-looking. Terrible business manager who could single-handedly ruin Abigail’s life.

That about summed it up.

She let out a groan and moved to the dresser, where she found a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, a sweatshirt, and socks. The skinny drawer at the top likely held his
 
—Abigail could feel herself blush.

Don’t be such an eighth grade girl. It’s just underwear.

And yet everything about her being here felt like an invasion of his privacy. She pulled open the drawer, grabbed a handful of whatever was on top, and shoved it in the bag she’d found at the back of the closet.

Quickly she gathered what she needed from the room where Kate slept, then moved into Junie’s room. An adorable patchwork quilt covered her bed, which was made of distressed white wood and an ornate headboard. Abigail nearly gasped. It looked like something she would sell in the store of her dreams.

She wished she could paint the room a pale-pink color pulled from the sheets and blankets. Currently the walls were mostly bare with the exception of a bulletin board showcasing the little girl’s art. Beside her bed, one framed photo stood next to a tiny ceramic jewelry box.

Abigail sat down on the bed and picked up the photo. Jacob, Junie, and a woman with reddish hair and eyes like almonds smiled back at her.

They’d been a family
 
—a solid, happy family. Abigail had so many questions about Jacob’s ex-wife. What kind of mother could leave her own daughter? Where was she now? Why did she leave them?

Maybe they, like Abigail’s own parents, had drifted apart, leaving nothing but the realization that they’d been a wrong fit from the start.

But it wasn’t her place to judge.

Abigail picked up the ratty old teddy bear sitting on Junie’s pillow. She went to stuff it in the bag, but something caught her eye.
Pinned to the front of the stuffed animal were two simple hearts, obviously hand-cut and decorated by a child.

Abigail gasped. Paper hearts.

When had the child been back in the store to see the tradition they’d begun? Or maybe she’d heard about it at school or in the paper.

She ran a finger over the hearts, taking in Junie’s carefully printed words and the strawberry drawn on the second heart.

Come home, Mommy.

I miss the way your hair smelled.

Empathy, as it often did, formed a tight circle of emotion right in the center of Abigail’s throat. She closed her eyes tightly so she wouldn’t cry. This poor girl had been through so much already. Abigail knew what it felt like to be rejected. The pain never really went away; it just stayed hidden for a while, showing up about the time you got close to someone again.

And it always did just enough damage to start the process all over.

She didn’t want that for Junie. She didn’t want that for anyone. But this girl
 
—this sweet, innocent, wide-eyed girl
 
—especially didn’t deserve it.

Abigail hugged the teddy bear to her chest. Of course, she herself hadn’t deserved it either. She was just a kid when her father had left. And with Jeremy? Maybe it had been for the best, but it was still an open wound that failed to heal.

Was that what she wanted Junie to grow up believing? That all the people you love leave you?

Abigail drew in a deep, shaky breath and expelled it all at once. She didn’t have time to experience a personal revelation sitting
on a six-year-old’s bed. She had to get these clothes back to the hospital.

But before she turned out the light, she stopped and gave one last look at the bedroom, imagining the tears Junie cried in the dark when she missed her mom the most.

How many times had she cried similar tears after her father left? A familiar pain returned
 
—one she wasn’t sure she could ever fully forgive.

J
ACOB AWOKE TWISTED IN
an uncomfortable chair beside Junie’s bed. He forced his eyes open, rubbed his face with both hands, and then realized what a stupid idea it was to fall asleep in that position. On the other side of the room, Kate lay in a bed identical to Junie’s. The two people he loved most in this world, and they’d both ended up here.

And as always, he couldn’t do a thing about it.

Why was it that he seemed able to save everyone else from harm, but when it came to his own family, he was always, always helpless?

Why had God allowed even more pain? Why couldn’t they all heal in peace?

He stood and moved toward the windows overlooking the parking lot of the small hospital. He vaguely remembered pulling in the night before, but so much of what had happened was a blur.
He was standing in his new building with Abigail when he got the call. She’d come with him. She’d gotten him here.

Where was she?

She probably bolted the second he fell asleep. What kind of woman would stick around to wade through his mess? Certainly not one whose heart he was in the process of breaking, professionally anyway.

He turned as Kate’s eyes fluttered open. “Hey.” Her voice was hoarse like that of a person who’d spent the night screaming at a concert for her favorite band.

“Hey, yourself.”

“I guess I fell asleep.”

“You must’ve needed the rest after what you’ve been through.”

A thick line of worry spread deep across her forehead. “What I’ve been through?”

Jacob sat on the edge of her bed. “You have a concussion, Kate.”

“Oh yeah, I know. The nurses kept waking me up to make sure I didn’t have any other issues. One of them even made me get up and walk.” Her laugh sounded nervous.

He frowned. “What did you think I was talking about?”

“Nothing. Is Abigail back yet?”

“Back? No. Where’d she go?”

“I sent her out to the house for a few of our things. Just in case we’re here for the rest of the day or another night or something. I think they’re waiting for Junie to wake up again before they decide. Abigail’s getting her teddy bear.”

Jacob stood and faced her. “You sent her to
my
house?”

Kate made a face. “Yeah. That’s where our stuff is.”

His mind reeled, scanning anything that might give him away as the author of those paper hearts. When he came up empty, he said a silent, impulsive prayer.
Please don’t let her find out anything. Not like this.

He’d tell her in his own way. When it felt right. Or maybe
never at all. He liked that idea better. He saw no reason Abigail or anyone else needed to know the truth about the hearts or Gwen or his past.

Besides, at the moment, nothing felt right. “I need to get some coffee.”

“Abigail’s bringing some back.”

He walked toward the door. “Then I need to get some air.”

Or something. Anything.
I need to get away. I need to get a life. I need to get some closure.

He headed out into the hallway and started walking, his mind wandering back to the night Gwen died. They’d released her with a clean bill of health, certain she was fine. But she wasn’t, and by the time he got her back to the hospital, it was too late. He couldn’t save her. They couldn’t save her. God couldn’t save her.

Or wouldn’t. He was still wrestling with that one.

Why didn’t you save her? You’re supposed to be the Almighty.

He rounded a corner and saw a sign for the hospital chapel. How cliché. He’d never gone in any of the chapels before, and in truth, he wasn’t the type of person who believed God could only be found within the walls of a church. In fact, more often than not, he met with God through prayer in very different places, like hiking in the mountains or in the car on the way to work.

But that was before. Lately, God had just been horribly, unaccountably
silent
.

But then, so had Jacob.

Now, though, he had questions. Why him? Was he being punished? And if he was, how could he make it right? And couldn’t God take it out on him instead of on Junie and Kate?

He took a seat at the back of the chapel
 
—first time for everything
 
—and stared at the cross hanging on the opposite wall. He’d grown up believing that God was good and merciful and kind, but the last few years had been anything but those things. The last few years had been awful and terrible and brutal.

At the beginning, when things went wrong with Gwen, he’d prayed faithfully. He believed everything would be fine
 
—otherwise, why would God have given them a child to take care of?

And just last week, he’d felt that overwhelming peace that God was protecting them.

“Where are you now? How do I wake the sleeping giant?” Jacob’s whispered breath hung in the air.

He waited in the silence, for what, he wasn’t quite sure. That feeling he used to get. The words he used to hear. The knowledge that he hadn’t been forgotten.

Forgive.

It came in spite of his anger and did nothing to appease him. Jacob scoffed. Just like that? Just snap his fingers and forgive the One who took his wife away?

He understood. He had to forgive in order to be forgiven. He’d learned it all those years ago at church, yet now that he was faced with the brutal choice, it was much easier said than done. But he shouldn’t have to forgive God, should he?

Every time he thought he’d made a little bit of progress, it all came rushing back, pulling him under, into the mire of quicksand that threatened to steal his last breath. Something else would always happen to make him feel caught in God’s crosshairs. Would he ever recover? Would he ever be able to move past any of this?

Junie’s face flooded his mind. Her screams when they set her leg. He’d held her, rocked her. He wanted to tell her it would all be okay, but she knew better. She knew from experience that “Everything is going to be okay” was an empty promise. Instead, he said nothing. Just held his baby girl and tried to be brave
 
—and when she finally fell into an aided sleep, he escaped into the bathroom and allowed the sobs to overtake his body.

“I don’t forgive you.” Words he’d felt for months and never spoken escaped without warning. “I don’t forgive you for destroying
my life. For taking her away. For this accident. For making it clear I don’t deserve to ever be happy again. I don’t forgive any of it.”

No, Jacob. Forgive yourself.

The unwanted thought popped into his mind without his permission. He stood, hands in angry fists at his sides, and he fought the urge to scream at that cross on the wall at the front.

Instead he stilled, a coldness racing through his veins. “Never.”

When he turned to go, he had the distinct feeling that he’d finally used up his last chance with God. What kind of God would take him back now?

And why would Jacob even want him to? He was getting what he deserved. He’d made a mess of his life, so his life was a mess.

What happened to the peace he’d felt the other day? Here he was again, right where he’d started. And God wasn’t doing a thing about it.