Second Chance Romance. Jill Weatherholt
gathering dust, Melanie had a photo of them together as children. She released a heavy breath. “I want to see my aunt Phoebe. Is she here?”
“Yes, Phoebe’s here. She’s down the hall, talking with Jackson.”
Sara headed toward the door and turned. “I’ll be at the nurses’ station. Push the button if you need anything, sweetie.”
Melanie rested her head against the mountain of pillows, mindlessly staring at the ceiling. She wished she could disappear through a crack in the drywall and go back to her home in DC.
Moments later she heard footsteps in the hall. They stopped outside the door, and there was a gentle knock. “Can we come in?”
Melanie gave the sheet a slight tug to cover her flimsy blue hospital gown. “Yes.” The sight of Aunt Phoebe’s smiling face in the doorway brought tears to Melanie’s eyes. The last time they’d seen each other had been the funeral. Had it really been a year? Some days it felt like an eternity.
“Oh dear, thank God you’re okay.” Aunt Phoebe glided across the floor to her bedside and kissed her forehead. “I was so worried about you. I don’t know what would have happened if Jackson hadn’t been there. Your car was towed to Wilbourn’s Autobody, so no need to fret about that. It will be repaired in a couple of days.”
Her aunt turned toward the door, and Melanie’s eyes followed. Her breath caught in her throat. A gorgeous, tall man with dark, wavy hair and a muscular frame stood in the doorway.
Their eyes connected for an instant, and her heart fluttered when his cheeks flushed. “I suppose you’re the infamous Jackson.” When he smiled, she looked away, but not before she took notice of his hypnotic deep blue eyes. He was perfection—which was reason enough to avoid him.
“Come in, Jackson.” Aunt Phoebe beamed and extended her hand toward him. “I’d like to introduce you to my lovely niece.” She moved aside, and he sauntered toward Melanie’s bed with his thumbs through his belt loops. “Jackson Daughtry, this is my niece, Melanie Harper.”
Jackson jerked his thumbs loose and touched his hand to hers. She expected roughness. The silky smooth feel of his skin caught her off guard. She cleared her throat. “I wanted to thank you for bringing me to the hospital.” She looked up and curved her lips into a small smile. “I don’t remember exactly what happened, but Sara told me I was unconscious, and you pulled me from my car.” His touch was gentle. She shifted in the bed and pulled away her hand.
“It’s my job.” He smiled. “Anyone traveling behind you would have stopped and done the same.”
Aunt Phoebe laughed. “Now, Jackson, don’t be so modest. Jackson’s a paramedic, but he had the day off today. I think I know him well enough to say he never really goes off duty. Even as a child, he rescued anything he could.” She placed her index finger to her chin. “Do you remember Miss Pearson’s cat? Marcie... I think it was her name.”
Jackson smiled. “Yes, it was.”
“Well, she got stuck, and Jackson climbed all the way up a huge oak tree to save her.”
A hint of redness covered Jackson’s cheeks at her aunt’s praise.
“A cat, really? That’s commendable of you.” Melanie nodded.
A slight smile pulled on one side of his mouth. “It was when I decided what I wanted to do when I grew up.”
“Save cats?” Melanie blurted.
Judging by the raised eyebrow Aunt Phoebe threw in her direction, she obviously didn’t appreciate the sarcasm.
Jackson pushed his shoulders back. “Well, mostly people, but animals, too, if they need rescuing.” He flashed a satisfied smile. “I’ll never forget the feeling when I placed Marcie back into Miss Pearson’s wrinkled hands. She lived alone for thirty years after her husband died. Marcie was all she had.”
“Jackson has always had a good heart.” Aunt Phoebe grinned and patted his arm.
Barricaded.
That was what Melanie’s heart was now. She would do whatever she had to in order to protect herself from further anguish.
Aunt Phoebe took a seat on the edge of the bed. “You look tired, dear. Maybe we should leave so you can get some rest.”
Melanie squirmed, struggling to sit up. “First I need to talk to you about the reason I came to Sweet Gum.” She wouldn’t let the fact that she’d had an accident and was now in the hospital stop her from telling Aunt Phoebe the truth of her mission.
“You came to get some much-needed rest, child.” Aunt Phoebe slipped one arm and then the other into the sleeves of her raincoat.
“Yes, it’s true, but the main reason is to bring you back to DC to live with me.” She blew out a breath. There, she’d said it.
“What?” Jackson shouted and looked around the room. “Sorry—I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”
Aunt Phoebe rubbed the top of Melanie’s head. “Dear, you’re talking crazy. I would never leave Sweet Gum.”
Melanie noticed Jackson listening intently. He even shook his head a couple of times.
“Now, you get some rest. Dr. Roberts said you can go home in the morning.” Aunt Phoebe leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll prepare a big dinner, just like it’s Sunday.”
She shook her head. “Please, don’t go to any trouble for me. Besides, I’m not a big eater.”
“Nonsense. You need more meat on your bones.” She squeezed Melanie’s arm. “I don’t know how you keep warm. I’ll make you some crispy fried chicken. It’s Jackson’s favorite.” She turned to him. “You save your appetite, too. I’ll prepare a meal for the hero...and bring your sweet little girl since school’s out again tomorrow for that teacher workday.”
Jackson nodded. “Sounds great. Rebecca loves your fried chicken.” He looked in Melanie’s direction. “Rebecca’s my five-year-old daughter.”
Aunt Phoebe waved goodbye, and Jackson followed her. The door closed, and they were gone.
The IV drip hummed. Melanie covered her face with a pillow. She wanted to scream. She hadn’t come here to mingle with the locals. She just wanted to bring her aunt home. Jackson and his daughter weren’t family. Why did her aunt act as though they were related? Melanie took a sip of her water and rolled onto her side.
She wasn’t ready to be around children, not yet. Maybe never. She’d tried keeping a journal, like the doctor had suggested, but the pain felt even more real when she’d put her thoughts down on paper. What did her doctor know, anyway? He hadn’t lost his children—she’d seen the photo of him and his wife with three smiling boys on the corner of his mahogany desk. She yanked the sheet over her head, wishing she could stay hidden forever, but whether she wanted to or not, tomorrow she’d be having dinner with Jackson and his daughter.
* * *
As Jackson headed to the Whitesides’ house, his heart pounded. He couldn’t wait to see Rebecca. While he drove along their half-mile gravel driveway, his thoughts drifted to Melanie. How dare she suggest moving Phoebe to DC? She’d never even visited and knew nothing about her aunt’s life and how happy she was living in the valley. It was obvious Melanie was a woman with a heavy heart, but that didn’t give her a right to uproot Phoebe.
He pulled in front of the Whitesides’ house and honked the horn. Within seconds, Rebecca flew out the door. He smiled and watched the love of his life, his vivacious daughter, sprint toward his truck. She ran as though she was trying to reach the finish line and he was the prize. For a second, his joy turned to sadness as he wondered how many more years she would think of him as her hero. He pushed the thought away and jumped from the truck with open arms.
“Daddy, can I have a puppy? Please, can I?” Rebecca pleaded and took a giant leap into