Forgiving Hearts: For Better or Worse Part 16

In the end, it was something as simple as food. The eight-year-old Jackson had forgotten his lunch. Seeing his predicament, she'd shared her sandwich with him. Such generosity had overcome his shyness, and he thanked her.

Unconsciously pulling the letter close to her heart, she longed to know the next step in their friendship. Had they gradually grown closer over the years? Had they become more than friends?

At this point, she forced herself to stop. It wasn't wise to look too far ahead. Right now she had the very real problem of what was going to happen when she left the hospital. No one seemed to have an answer to that question. Where had she been living before the accident, and why couldn't she simply go back there? None of it made any sense.

Jackson's steps automatically quickened when he recognized the man standing by his truck. The situation he'd hoped to avoid had finally caught up with him. What should he do? No matter how much he disliked Mitch.e.l.l's involvement with Hannah, he couldn't allow his emotions to dictate his actions. And as much as he'd like to see Mitch.e.l.l disappear, he couldn't lie to make it happen.

When he got close enough, he asked, "What can I do for you, Mitch.e.l.l?"

"You know why I'm here. I'm looking for Hannah."

Jackson nodded. "She was in a car accident last week."

Mitch.e.l.l's face paled. "That's why I haven't been able to reach her. Where is she now?"

"In the hospital. She was in a coma for four days. Right now, she doesn't seem to remember anything prior to the accident."

"How long is that supposed to last?"

"They're not sure. In the meantime, we have to be careful how much we tell her. She's confused and gets upset easily."

"When can she leave the hospital?"

"I haven't been given a date yet."

Mitch.e.l.l bit his lip. "I have to be back in New York tomorrow."

That was fine with Jackson. He didn't want Mitch.e.l.l to stick around. "I'm sorry I don't have better news for you."

"You're not sorry. You can't wait for me to leave, and I understand why. I hope you're not depending on Hannah's loss of memory to save your marriage, because when she does remember, she'll come back to me. She always does."

Jackson's fingers clinched into fists. He'd love to wipe the satisfied grin off Mitch.e.l.l's face, but he wasn't going to get into a brawl in his work parking lot. Fist fighting was for teenagers, not grown men. "Once Hannah is recovered, she's free to do whatever she wants."

"Since I'm here, I'd like to see her."

"She's at St. Francis Hospital, room 410. It's down the street a few blocks. If you care about her at all, please be careful what you say."

Mitch.e.l.l turned away. "Thanks for the info and the advice."

Jackson watched Mitch.e.l.l's car until it was out of sight. Then he got into his truck, but he didn't make any move to turn the key. The ambiguous and uncertain nature of this situation galled him. His hands were tied both by the circ.u.mstances and his own conscience. Why did he feel so torn about Hannah seeing Mitch.e.l.l? And why did he want to protect the woman who'd left him? Was Mitch.e.l.l right? Was he hoping that her reason for being here had something to do with him?

Bowing his head, he prayed, "Father, please don't let Mitch.e.l.l upset Hannah. I know it's selfish to think this way, but she's vulnerable right now. He can tell her anything, and she'll believe him. I don't want her to leave again without knowing why she came."

A knock on the window of the pa.s.senger side of his truck brought his head up abruptly. Feeling embarra.s.sed, Jackson put the window down.

"Hey, Colton."

"Anything wrong? You look upset."

"Mitch.e.l.l is on his way to see Hannah."

"He showed up, huh? I don't think he's going to get the reception he's expecting."

Jackson smiled faintly. "She might remember him."

Colton leaned against the truck. "There's a chance she might, but it's a very small one. According to something Dr. Koutoucki said, the immediate events leading up to the accident that caused the amnesia usually take longer to resurface. Once Mitch.e.l.l realizes she doesn't know him, he won't have any reason to stay. He's found out what he wants to know and from what you've told me, he's not the type to hang around when times get tough."

"He mentioned that he had to get back to New York."

"That doesn't surprise me at all. He's at a disadvantage here, and he knows it. I'll run over to the hospital and see how the reunion is going."

"I was hoping you'd do that, but didn't want to ask."

"I'm good at reading minds. Just ask Laurel. I'll see you at the house. This won't take long. Tell my beautiful wife not to start dinner without me."

"I will and thanks, Colton."

Hannah was finishing a bowl of vanilla pudding when a man walked into her room and approached the bed. Her eyes took in the coal-black hair, light blue eyes and stubble of beard. Her heart started to pound in her chest. Was this Jackson? She hadn't pictured him as being so good-looking or so intimidating. He hadn't smiled yet.

"h.e.l.lo, Hannah. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I just found out about your accident."

She held out her hand. "You'll have to tell me who you are. I'm having trouble remembering."

"I'm Mitch.e.l.l Staverly."

Hannah was relieved to find out he wasn't Jackson. He didn't fit her mental image of the man capable of writing such wonderful letters. "It's nice to meet you, Mitch.e.l.l. Do you live around here?"

"I live in New York. I've been there almost two years now."

"So I knew someone who lived in New York. That's amazing."

"You really don't remember me, do you? It's hard to believe. I've known you for a long time."

"I don't remember anyone really. I get brief flashes from time to time, but nothing I can put together. The doctor says I'll probably remember more when I get out of here."

"Where are you going? To Jackson's?"

His question hardly registered. "Do you know Jackson?" she asked eagerly.

"I knew him in high school. I hadn't seen him in years until today."

"I'm curious about him."

"Hasn't he been to see you?"

Hannah tilted her head to the side. "I think he came while I was in the coma. He's been writing me letters."

Mitch.e.l.l frowned. "I don't understand. Why would he write letters when he lives here?"

His questions confused Hannah. Why did Mitch.e.l.l seem so hostile toward Jackson? "Maybe he's shy about meeting me when I don't know him."

That answer didn't seem to satisfy him, either. "That doesn't make sense, Hannah. Hasn't he told you who he is?"

She was beginning to wish Mitch.e.l.l would leave. His intensity made her uncomfortable. "Jackson and I grew up together." Her eyes strayed to the flowers. "I think he might be my boyfriend."

Mitch.e.l.l laughed harshly. "I'm your boyfriend. Jackson is your husband."

Hannah looked at him in confusion. What was he saying? "That can't be. I'm not married."

He finally seemed to notice her agitation. "Maybe I was misinformed."

She didn't know what to think. Was Jackson her husband or not? If so, why hadn't he told her from the beginning? Why would he hide his ident.i.ty from her? "It doesn't really matter, does it?" she asked in a low voice. "I'm not the same person I was before."

Looking more and more uneasy, Mitch.e.l.l glanced at his watch. "I didn't realize it was so late. I better go now. I have to drive back to Atlanta tonight."

She made no attempt to stop him. "Thanks again for coming by. I hope you have a safe trip home."

After he left, Hannah moved the tray of food to the side. What little appet.i.te she had was gone. Something about Mitch.e.l.l made her nervous. She hoped he wouldn't come again. Why was that? If she couldn't remember him, why would she be uncomfortable around him?

Everything had been fine until he started asking all those questions. She reached for Jackson's letters and skimmed the contents, but there was nothing in them that even hinted at him being her husband.

"How's my favorite patient doing?"

She looked up to find Colton standing at the end of the bed. "Tired of lying around, but otherwise, pretty good."

He pointed to the letters in her hand. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You didn't. I've already read them several times," she admitted. "Someone came to see me today. He told me that Jackson is my husband. Is that true, Dr. Samuels?" When Colton didn't immediately answer, she went on. "Please tell me. I need to know."

Colton moved closer and took her hand in a light clasp. "I thought we agreed not to worry about what Jackson was."

A tear slipped out of her eye and moved slowly down her face. "He is my husband, isn't he? Why doesn't he want me to know? Is it because he's not sure he wants to stay married to me?"

His smile was gentle. "Jackson doesn't want you to feel pressured into something you aren't comfortable with."

"I want to see him to talk to him. Will you ask him to come?"

Colton sighed. "You have seen him, Hannah," he said softly.

"But that's not possible." She stopped for a second and her face paled alarmingly. "Was he the man with the scarred face?"

"Yes. Like you, Jackson was involved in a car accident, but it was many years ago."

More tears slipped down her face. "I've been refusing to see my own husband. What must he think of me?" she whispered.

Once again, Colton pointed to the letter. "The answer is in your hand."

"I have to apologize to him. I never meant to hurt him like that."

"I know you didn't. I'll tell him what you said."

"Thank you, Dr. Samuels."

"You're welcome. Goodnight."

Jackson had never liked having his hand forced; he found it even more disagreeable now. He'd been so worried about the harm Mitch.e.l.l could do to Hannah that he hadn't considered how much trouble Mitch.e.l.l's visit could wreak on his own precarious position in her life. Now the cat was truly out of the bag. A few letters weren't sufficient to make Hannah feel comfortable enough to accept him as her husband, especially in view of her earlier reaction to his appearance. And even if she did, he was still presenting himself to her under false pretenses.

Hannah didn't understand the true circ.u.mstances of their marriage. She only had a small piece of a huge puzzle. Jackson could picture her desperately trying to remember events that never happened. In essence, she believed something that had no basis in reality. How long would it be before she found out the truth, either by someone telling her, or by her own returning memory? When that happened, she would be upset, and all of her disappointment and irritation would be directed at Jackson.

What should he do? Did he pretend everything was normal until she was more herself? Or did he explain the true situation and hope she could handle it? Neither of these options was appealing. The first would be difficult to maintain for any length of time, and the second ran the risk of undoing all the progress they'd made, not to mention having to involve Mitch.e.l.l.

Hannah hardly touched the food on her tray. She'd been on pins and needles ever since Dr. Samuels dropped by to tell her that Jackson was coming to see her. Her mood had alternated between nervous antic.i.p.ation to outright dread. At the present time, she was closer to the latter and wished Mitch.e.l.l hadn't felt it necessary to be so outspoken. There were times when ignorance wasn't only bliss, it was preferable.

In spite of her misgivings, she was determined to make amends to Jackson. She couldn't imagine how badly her actions had hurt him and possibly damaged their already problematic relationship. Had she always been this irrational and judgmental? You didn't decide what someone was like based on one glimpse of their face in a dark room.

Having read Jackson's letters, she knew her first impression couldn't be further from the truth. This didn't, however, make her current situation any less awkward. There was nothing easy or routine about meeting a husband she hadn't been aware of. It seemed inevitable that she would disappoint him given that she couldn't remember anything about their life together or even how they fell in love.

Hannah couldn't imagine how frustrating it must be for Jackson. Was the woman he loved gone? He had every right to expect a continuation of their previous relationship, but was that possible? They were only one step removed from being strangers, and she had no memory of what kind of woman she'd been. Would Jackson want to stay married to the new Hannah? And would he be patient enough to let her learn to love him?

Perhaps she shouldn't have pushed for this meeting after all. But it was too late now. She could only hope her actions wouldn't have any negative consequences.

She was facing away from the door when Jackson walked into the room.

"h.e.l.lo, Hannah," he said quietly.

Her head turned slowly in his direction and a shy smile touched her mouth. In trying not to look at his scars, she discovered his eyes. They were deep blue, and the timid yet gentle expression in their depths reminded her of the little boy she hadn't been able to get out of her mind.

"Hi, Jackson."

He seemed hesitant to come any closer to the bed so she held out her hand. After a few seconds, he walked over and took her hand in his. She noticed that the scars were only on one side of his face and that his dark hair had just a hint of a wave in it.

A faint smile pa.s.sed over his face. "I used to think my worst moment with you was when I had the nosebleed, but this is a close second."

"I haven't made this easy for you. I'm sorry about that."

"It's not your fault. My face takes getting used to."

"Don't say that. There's nothing wrong with your face. You were turned away from me that day. I couldn't see your nice eyes or kind smile."

"I thought you were asleep. I didn't know I was being observed."