Forgiving Hearts: For Better or Worse Part 2

"A pink case. Why am I not surprised?"

She chuckled as she took the phone from him. "Goodnight, Jackson."

As he drove home, Jackson compared his eager antic.i.p.ation for the evening with reality. The dream of love he carried within his heart had received yet another blow. Mitch.e.l.l might not be here physically, but it was clear he was still very much in Hannah's life. Everything she'd done had been for the sake of a guy who wouldn't marry her.

His hands clenched on the steering wheel. If he could get close enough, he'd teach that ungrateful, selfish jerk a lesson he'd never forget. A long, ragged sigh escaped him. "Yeah, that's what you should do, Jackson," he said out loud. "That's exactly how men of faith handle these kinds of situations."

He couldn't help thinking how complicated and intricate love was. It turned a rational human being into a bundle of uncontrollable urges that were, for the most part, the exact opposite of what he or she really needed. If that wasn't enough, it meddled with one's common sense before aiming straight for the heart. Once it had taken up residence there, it was almost impossible to evict.

Hannah spent the rest of the evening wishing she'd followed her first inclination and stayed away from Jackson. It wasn't that she hadn't enjoyed their time together. Far from it. She liked it too much for her own good. Being with someone who actually listened was a heady experience. That was why she'd told Jackson all those things. And once she started talking, she couldn't stop.

He must have been shocked to find her so altered, but to his credit, his demeanor never changed. There hadn't been disapproval or censure in his voice, only kindness and understanding. Jackson hadn't fixated on her failures, but had instead tried to focus her on the present. In her mind's eye, it was as if she was suspended between the woman she'd allowed herself to become and the woman she could be.

Into these troubled thoughts came the ringing of her phone. She didn't know whether to be relieved or regretful.

"h.e.l.lo, Bradley."

"How was the trip down memory lane?"

"It was nice to see someone from home."

"You didn't mention why he was here."

Hannah sighed soundlessly. Bradley was becoming what she most disliked in a man: possessive. A few dates didn't give him the right to be so involved in her life. "He just started working at Hollis Clinic."

"So he'll be sticking around. I thought he was just visiting."

"Does it matter? It's been a long day, and I'm tired."

"Which is why you should have met him some other time."

She rolled her eyes. "Are we still on for tomorrow?"

"I hope so. I already made reservations."

"Reservations? That sounds like I'll have to dress up."

Bradley laughed. "I'll pick you up around six."

"Sounds good. See you then."

Setting the phone on the counter next to her purse, Hannah walked into the bedroom and kicked off her shoes. After a shower, she slipped her arms into a long-sleeved dress shirt and inhaled the musky scent of Mitch.e.l.l's cologne. An aching sadness welled up inside her.

Why did she still miss him? She should be proud of herself for leaving and relieved that Mitch.e.l.l hadn't followed her. Only a fool would stay with someone so self-absorbed. So why couldn't she move on? It had been eight weeks; eight long weeks of crying herself to sleep every night. She'd tried everything to forget Mitch.e.l.l; nothing was working. And getting involved with Bradley had been a mistake. She wasn't ready for another relationship.

Chapter Two.

Jackson managed to find his suit and was able to visit the church whose tall steeple was easily visible from his subdivision. He enjoyed the sermon and felt comfortable enough to go there again. If he could get Hannah to come with him, all the better. The pain he saw reflected in her lovely eyes tore at his heart. He knew there could be no true happiness for a Christian living apart from G.o.d.

He spent the afternoon filling out the packet of papers provided to him by the human resources representative of the clinic. After dinner, he grabbed the leash, opened the door leading to the backyard and whistled for Freya. Within a few minutes, she was pulling him along the paved sidewalk.

"You're like someone else I know. Always in a hurry. You've got to slow down and take time to smell the roses or whatever that saying is."

Jackson was admiring a two-story Tudor-style house when a little girl on a red bicycle came out of nowhere. In trying to avoid hitting Freya, she ran into him. They both ended up on the ground. After one stunned moment, he lifted the bike off his legs and turned to see how his companion was doing. There were tears in her eyes, but he didn't see any obvious injuries. She looked more frightened than hurt.

"We got a little tangled up, didn't we? Are you okay?" He spoke in a soft voice, knowing from experience that his face could be scary to a child.

"I think so." She scrambled to her feet and peered more closely at him. "What happened to you?"

"I was in an accident a long time ago. Let's check you over and make sure you didn't break a leg or anything."

This drew a giggle from her. "How could I break my legs? I'm standing on them."

"Oh, yeah, you're right. My name is Jackson. What's yours?"

"Amanda."

"Well, Amanda, since you're okay, we better check out your bike. Oh, I almost forgot to introduce you to Freya." He turned to the dog. "Freya, where are your manners? Say 'h.e.l.lo' to Amanda." Freya held out one large paw.

"Hi, Freya." Amanda laughed and took the paw in her tiny hand. "She's so big; I was scared of her at first."

"But you're not now, right?" Jackson moved the bike forward and backward a few times. "I think your bicycle survived our collision."

"Here comes my mom."

Jackson turned his head in time to see a woman almost as tall as he was walking in their direction.

"Amanda Samuels, you weren't supposed to leave the driveway."

"I know, Mommy, but I wanted to get a closer look at Freya. She's Mr. Jackson's dog. I ran into him with my bicycle."

"That wouldn't have happened if you'd obeyed." The woman held out her hand to Jackson. "I'm sorry about this. I'm Laurel Samuels."

"Nice to meet you, Laurel. I'm Jackson Steadman. I moved into the neighborhood yesterday."

"You bought the Powell place? I saw the realtor take down the sign a few weeks ago. Are you from around here?"

"I'm from Cochran. I moved here to work at the Hollis Clinic."

Laurel's smile grew wider. "My husband works there. I'd introduce you but he's not home at the moment." They were interrupted by Amanda.

"Mr. Jackson, Freya just licked me."

Jackson laughed. "Yeah, she does that to people she likes. It's a disgusting habit."

"Oh, I like it." She looked at Laurel. "Mommy, I think we should invite Mr. Jackson and Freya to my birthday party next weekend."

"It's a kid's party, sweet pea; I don't think Mr. Jackson would be interested in coming."

"How do you know? Have you asked him?"

"I'll do that while you put your bicycle in the garage; it's almost time for your bath." After Amanda reluctantly left them, Laurel turned to Jackson. "I don't want to put you on the spot. Her party is next Sat.u.r.day at three. You're welcome to drop by, with or without Freya. If you'd rather not, I understand."

Jackson smiled. "I'll try to make it. Can you give me some idea what to bring as a present? I don't know anything about kids this age."

"Don't worry about bringing anything. She's got too much as it is. If we don't see you Sat.u.r.day, I'm sure Amanda will run you down another time."

Jackson finished his walk without further mishap. When he got back to the house, he stretched out on the couch in the living room. "I think we've made a friend, Freya. I wish adult women were as easy to impress as little girls like Amanda."

He reached over and pulled his Bible off the coffee table. After reading for a while, he bowed his head. "Father, I don't know your plans for Hannah, but I pray that I can be of help to her. I know she's hurting, and I also know that only You can heal a broken heart. In Jesus' name I pray, amen."

Arriving at the clinic the next morning, Jackson dutifully dropped off the paperwork to human resources and took the elevator to the third floor. His supervisor had asked him to come early before the patients arrived. He walked into a large open area containing treatment tables, exercise bikes, hot pack machines and rows of neatly stacked therapy equipment. The only person in the room was seated at a desk. At his approach, the woman looked up at him and smiled.

"Hey, Jackson. I'm glad to see you arrived in one piece. Give me a minute, and I'll give you the grand tour. In the meantime, if you'd like some coffee, it's in the cubbyhole behind you."

"Thanks, Nicole. I never turn down coffee." After fixing a cup, he sat down on one of the tables and looked around. This period of calm wouldn't last long. In another half hour this place would be humming with activity.

"Okay, I'm ready. Let's start on the physician side."

Jackson stood up. "Sounds great."

Nicole led the way down a long hallway carpeted in a restful shade of gray. They pa.s.sed through a waiting room already full of patients. Jackson was shown the pods that housed the doctors, x-ray, MRI and orthotics departments, and finally the rehab side which included physical and occupational therapy. He was glad everyone wore badges because he knew he'd never remember all the names of the people Nicole introduced him to. They were almost to the gym when someone came up behind them.

"Nicole, Greta told me that Mr. Wallingford refused therapy yesterday."

"Yes, he did. He said he was in too much pain."

"When is he scheduled to come again?"

"Tomorrow afternoon I think it's three or three-thirty."

"When he shows up, page me. I'll talk to him."

"That would be great. While you're here, let me introduce you to our new therapist, Jackson Steadman. Jackson, this is Dr. Samuels."

The man held out his hand, his brown eyes twinkling. "Nice to meet you, Jackson. I feel as if I already know you. My daughter has fallen for you in a big way."

"I think my dog is the main attraction."

"It could be. She's been trying to talk her mother into a puppy and strangely enough, the latest pictures she's shown us have been of German shepherds."

"What does Laurel say about that?" Nicole asked with a smirk.

"She's doing her best to steer Amanda toward something smaller. I suppose I should go see some patients." His glance returned to Jackson. "It was nice to meet you. I hope you'll enjoy working here."

"I'm sure I will. Thank you, Dr. Samuels."

As he walked away, Nicole asked, "How did you meet Amanda?"

"I bought a house in their neighborhood, and yesterday she ran into me with her bicycle."

"All of the doctors here are talented, but Dr. Samuels is in a cla.s.s by himself. He's more than just a pretty face."

"Well, I certainly hope so since he operates on people."

Nicole shrugged sheepishly and pointed to a row of cubicles cleverly hidden behind a large mural. "Your desk is the third one down. Let's go take a look at your schedule. I think your first appointment is at eight."

From the moment his first patient arrived, Jackson didn't have time to worry about anything else. The morning seemed to fly by as he acclimated himself to a new workplace and a new routine. He was trying to figure out the most sophisticated fax machine he'd ever encountered when Nicole tapped him on the shoulder.

"Ready for lunch?"

"I will be as soon as I send this fax."

"Meet me in the gym when you're done. I want to take you to Brunswick's best kept secret. This place makes roast beef sandwiches that melt in your mouth. If you don't like roast beef, they have other things as well."

"I love roast beef."

"Good. Do you mind driving? My boyfriend dropped me off this morning. He's going to meet us there."

Once they were on their way, Jackson said, "I hope your boyfriend won't mind me barging in. I'm sure he'd rather eat with just you."

"Don't worry about it. All Marty has on his mind is the '69 Dodge Charger he bought recently. The thing barely runs and is covered in rust. I don't see the attraction."

A wide grin formed on Jackson's face. "It's an acquired taste. Is he going to restore it himself?"

"He wants to, but he doesn't know anything about it. Right now it's taking up s.p.a.ce in my garage."

"I'm no expert, but I can get him on the right track. My dad did some restoration in his spare time, and I helped him with a few of his projects."

"Marty will be thrilled to meet you. I won't have to do anything but sit back and enjoy my lunch."

Nicole showed him a shortcut from the clinic to what everyone called the beach road. In no time at all, he was maneuvering the big truck into the only remaining parking spot.

"Let's go in and get a table. Marty will be late; he always is."

The deli was crammed with people standing in line and sitting at tall, circular tables. If it had been left to Jackson, he would have gone somewhere else. In his opinion, no sandwich was worth this kind of punishment.

"Get in line while I find us a place to sit," Nicole told him in a loud whisper.