Second Chance Romance. Jill Weatherholt
she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Oh, nothing.” He tried to erase the grin.
She rolled her eyes and sat down. “Look, Jackson, about The Bean. Why don’t we cover it in shifts? Since it’s only open from 7:00 a.m. until 2:00 p.m. for breakfast and lunch, I can take the first three-and-a-half hours and you the second, or vice versa.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Or we could alternate days. There’s no need for us both to be there at the same time.”
Jackson laughed and shook his head. “You don’t think there’s a need for both of us to cover it?” He rubbed his chin. “There’s no way you could handle the crowd alone, especially on a Saturday...with or without a law degree.”
Her knee bounced in agitation. “I think I’m perfectly capable of handling a little country restaurant.”
She didn’t have a clue. “Phoebe has a $4.99 breakfast special on Saturday. It comes with two eggs, two pancakes and two slices of bacon or sausage links, and to drink, orange juice and coffee. It draws a crowd.” Jackson’s stomach growled.
She arched her brow. “I hope there’s a gym in the area. It doesn’t sound healthy. How do people do anything else after such a big meal?”
He slid her a sideways stare. “Most folks around here have a working farm, and believe me, they get their workout.”
“I doubt they get their heart rate up riding around on a tractor.”
Jackson clenched his teeth. “We might not have a fancy gym like you’re used to, but trust me, we get our heart rates up every day.” He hesitated. “In fact, right now mine is through the roof.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you. I just think The Bean should offer a healthier menu.”
Sara approached the couple. “Melanie, if you want to see Phoebe, you can follow me to her room.”
Melanie looked at Jackson. “Do you want to go?”
“No, you go, but give her a kiss for me.”
While Melanie visited with Phoebe, Jackson spent the time alone in prayer.
Ten minutes later, she returned with a huge smile splashed on her face. “Aunt Phoebe looked good, better than I thought she would. She couldn’t speak clearly, but I’m sure it will improve in time.”
Relieved to see Melanie more at ease, he glanced at his watch. “Let’s go get Rebecca, and I’ll walk you to your car.” He slipped on his leather jacket. “Before we go, let’s get back to the schedule at The Bean.”
Melanie spoke without hesitation. “I think you’re right. We both need to work together, for Aunt Phoebe.”
Jackson scratched the top of his head. Melanie had surprised him. She’d been so adamant about working alone. Why the sudden change? Was this all part of her scheme to move Phoebe?
“I don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“Just a while ago, you didn’t want me near The Bean while you’re there. And now—”
Her eyes softened, twisting his stomach inside out. “Aunt Phoebe told me you’re like a son to her, and that you know The Bean better than anyone. I know how important it is to her, so I promised when I went back to see her that we’d work side by side.”
Jackson gestured in the direction of the front doors. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”
* * *
That evening, Jackson settled into his favorite leather chair in the corner of his bedroom. Thoughts of Melanie swirled in his head. Through the open plantation shutters, the hunter’s moon gleamed across the backyard. A coyote he’d seen hanging around for the past week stopped in his tracks and took a peek toward the window before scurrying into the woods.
He turned his attention from that view and ran his hand along the soft, worn leather arms. For thirty years, this chair had sat in his father’s insurance office. He missed his dad.
With heavy thoughts about Melanie and her plan to move Phoebe, he reached for the worn Bible given to him by his paternal grandmother. It had once belonged to his grandfather.
Jackson opened the Bible to his favorite verse. Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not to your own understanding. After his ex-wife, Taylor, left him and Rebecca for his best friend, Wilson, he meditated on these words daily. He did trust the Lord. It was other people, especially women, where he struggled.
“Daddy, I’m ready for my story.”
He closed the Bible. His heart melted at the sight of his daughter standing in the doorway. Dressed in her favorite Winnie the Pooh footed pajamas, she brushed a wild blond curl away from her eyes and sprinted across the room. Gigi, her favorite blanket, trailed behind her along the hardwood floor.
With one soaring leap, she was in his lap. He nuzzled his nose into her hair and smiled. She smelled of sweet honeysuckle from her bubble bath earlier in the evening. Their cuddle time always comforted him. He cherished this time with his daughter. The teenage years would be here in a flash, so he planned to savor every moment.
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