Second Chance Romance. Jill Weatherholt
in the world is going on out here?” Phoebe stood in the doorway with both hands on her hips.
“Melanie was just telling me a little more about your move.” He eyed Melanie, waiting for her to pounce.
Phoebe laughed. “We’ve discussed it already. I’m not moving and that’s final.”
“You haven’t had enough time to make a final decision.” Melanie walked toward her aunt and reached out for her hand.
Ignoring the extended hand, Phoebe paced the dining-room floor. “I don’t need more time.” She picked up her glass of water and took two long swigs. “What on earth has put such a crazy idea into your head? It needs to stop—now.”
Jackson took notice of Phoebe’s complexion. She looked pale, and tiny beads of perspiration dotted her forehead. “Are you okay, Phoebe?”
She yanked a tissue from her apron pocket and blotted her forehead. “It’s just a little warm in here from the oven. I’m fine.” She slipped the tissue back into her pocket. “So, what do you think about Melanie’s plan, Jackson?”
He shook his head. “I think it’s a bad one. Your life is here with the people who love you.”
“I agree. And I won’t discuss this any further,” Phoebe announced.
“Wait, please,” Melanie said. “I’m not trying to ruin your life. I love you, and I don’t want you to be alone.”
“I’m staying put...end of discussion.” Phoebe turned and headed back to the kitchen.
Jackson ran his hand down the front of his face, relieved the conversation was over, at least for now.
Melanie, on the other hand, did not look pleased.
“Daddy, come quick!” Rebecca’s scream had him sprinting toward the kitchen like a jackrabbit.
He burst through the door and saw Phoebe lying on the floor.
Melanie entered the kitchen and gasped. “Jackson, help her.” She raced to her aunt’s side. “What’s happening?”
Jackson heard Phoebe’s garbled speech and noticed the side of her mouth was drooping. “She’s having a stroke. I’ve got to get her to the hospital. Now!”
Melanie gripped his wrist. “Shouldn’t we call for the ambulance?”
He shook his head. “No, we can’t wait.” He scooped Phoebe’s tiny frame into his arms and headed toward the door. “You take Rebecca in your car. Don’t try to keep up. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”
“Daddy... I’m scared.”
Jackson stopped at the front door and turned. “Everything will be okay. You go with Miss Melanie.”
Melanie grabbed Rebecca’s hand and raced through the ER entrance. She’d never imagined she’d be at this hospital—or holding a child’s hand—again. Doesn’t Jackson know how difficult this is—being around a child? Of course not. She hadn’t allowed Aunt Phoebe to share her past with anyone.
“Rebecca, over here.” Jackson jumped from a brown sofa and scooped his daughter into his arms.
“How’s Aunt Phoebe?” Melanie’s pulse raced. “Has the doctor come out yet?”
“No, not yet.” He placed Rebecca on the ground. “You’ll need to check in with Sara at the desk. She needs some information from you. I’m going to take Rebecca down to the playroom.”
Before Melanie knew what was happening, Rebecca had her arms tight around her waist. Her breath froze in her chest. She needed to break free.
“Daddy, I want to stay here with Miss Melanie.”
There was something about this little girl, but she had to play it safe—keep her distance. “You go with your daddy. I have to fill out some paperwork so the doctor can take care of Aunt Phoebe.”
The smell of coffee wafted from behind the front desk as she walked over.
“Hi, Melanie. Do you remember me?”
“Of course. How are you, Sara?”
The nurse organized some forms and attached them to a clipboard. “I’m doing well. I’m sorry about Phoebe.” She handed Melanie the documents. “Dr. Roberts is here. He got called in on another emergency, but he’ll be caring for her.”
Melanie took the papers and forced a smile.
“Just complete what you can. We already have her insurance information in our system.”
When Jackson returned and approached the desk, Melanie watched Sara’s face light up like a beacon.
“Hello there, Jackson,” Sara said. She fluffed the back of her hair and batted her false eyelashes.
Melanie stared at Jackson. A pang of jealousy took hold. Why would she be jealous over a man she hardly knew? Sure, he was gorgeous, and he seemed like a good father, but jealous—no way. Besides, he was nothing but a roadblock to her plan. Still, when he appeared oblivious to Sara’s flirtation, she felt relieved.
“Hey, Sara. Can you let Dr. Roberts know we’re here? We’ll be in the waiting area until he’s ready to speak with Melanie.”
Sara’s smile faded, and she jutted her chin out. “Sure, Jackson.” She turned on her heel and strutted down the hall.
Jackson pointed at four chairs lined close together in front of a floor-to-ceiling window. “Let’s have a seat over here. Do you want something to drink?”
“No, thank you.” Melanie sat in one of the brown vinyl chairs and gazed out the window. A brisk wind whipped through the courtyard. Leaves fell from the trees and swirled along the ground. She noticed a man walking with two little girls, probably his children. Where was the mother? She was probably at work. Melanie’s heart sank.
Jackson blew a heavy breath and leaned back into his chair. “Look, Melanie, you were right. I should have stopped discussing the move when you asked. If I had, maybe Phoebe wouldn’t be here.”
She rubbed her hands across her arms. Why were hospitals so cold? There were those annoying fluorescent lights buzzing. “No, the move was my idea.” Melanie leaned forward and put her hands over her face.
After a few moments of sobbing, she peeled her hands away and shot Jackson a look. She closed her eyes, shaken by the truth. “I’m the reason she had the stroke, Jackson.” Tears gushed for the present and for the past. “I should have never come here.”
A shiver ran down her spine when he placed a hand on the small of her back.
“You’re talking crazy, Mel.”
Another shiver.
It was the first time he’d called her Mel. She liked it. Why did it sound good coming from his lips? Melanie pushed aside the thought.
Jackson moved his hand in tiny circular motions along her back. “Phoebe’s stroke didn’t happen because you want to move her to DC.” He paused, reached for a tissue from the table next to his chair and turned her face toward his. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment when she saw the tenderness in his eyes. With a gentle touch, he wiped the tears from her face.
Though she knew he meant only to offer comfort, his kind gesture made her edgy. Melanie took the tissue from Jackson and looked away.
Over the next hour, Melanie paced the floor, waiting for Dr. Roberts to give her an update on Aunt Phoebe. Periodically she glanced at Jackson, who spent much of his time in prayer. At least, that was what she thought he was doing. His head was down and his eyes were closed. His lips moved ever so slightly. Did he really