Second Chance Father. Renee Andrews
he sat on the porch, Jack maintained his composure and kept his voice steady. “Hey, I hoped you’d come back.”
His gait a little stilted and his pace slow and guarded, Cody eased toward the cabin as though he didn’t want to rush this encounter. Or as though preparing to bolt the way he did yesterday.
As he neared, he tilted his head, the way Jack had seen him do before, and a large chunk of dark brown hair fell across his right eye with the gesture. Today’s shirt was similar to yesterday’s, except it was forest green and had a photo of a ’67 Chevelle on the chest. And like before, he wore dark jeans and those black-and-white tennis shoes, laces untied.
He frowned and stared at Jack’s face, specifically his chin.
Jack ran his hand across the skin. “It’s still me, just no beard.” He thought Cody’s head moved a fraction in a slight nod. Maybe the boy would stick around a little longer this time. Then Jack’s attention shifted to the cream-colored tote hanging from Cody’s right arm and the green plastic bag on the other. They sagged from heavy contents, and Cody clasped his hands together to brace his arms from the weight.
“What have you got there?” Jack pointed to the bulging bags.
But Cody wasn’t paying attention to his baggage. Instead, he focused on Jack’s plate of biscuits.
“Cody?” Elise called his name breathlessly as she emerged from the trail. Jack and the boy both turned toward the woman holding a hand to her chest as she moved toward them. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair, unlike the last time he’d seen her, wasn’t captured in a ponytail but fell in long, dark waves around her shoulders, the way it’d been when he saw her crying in the woods. Jack made a mental note to eventually learn what made her cry that day, but now wasn’t the time. Judging from her appearance, she’d started the morning by learning her patient had, once again, gone AWOL.
She looked as though she’d yanked on the first clothes she could find, which happened to be an oversize white T-shirt with a disgruntled bulldog in the center and the caption Got Coffee? at the top, jeans that had a rip above the left knee and hiking boots.
Jack thought the sunrise would be the prettiest thing he’d see this morning. He’d been wrong. There was something about a woman early in the day, before she looked so put together and when she had that vulnerable, just-woke-up appeal, that grabbed his heart and held it captive.
The way Elise held it captive now.
It’d been a long time, two years, since he’d seen a woman like this, her cheeks glowing from embarrassment that he’d caught her unprepared for the day. His first thought was that he’d like to share a cup of coffee with a woman like that. His second thought was that he didn’t want to give his heart to a woman again. And his third thought...
She looked at him as though she had no idea who he was.
“Elise?” He’d been so long without regular human interaction that his voice still sounded odd to his own ears. Rough and raspy. Still, he liked the way it felt when he said her name.
Her chin dropped, one eyebrow lifted and she whispered, “Jack?”
He’d thought she couldn’t look cuter than she had disheveled and emerging from the woods at barely past seven in the morning. But he’d thought wrong. Her confused expression added another layer of vulnerability. She’d look incredible on film.
Jack pushed the reminder of his previous life away and focused instead on the woman before him. “Yeah, it’s me,” he said, managing a smile for his guests.
“Wow.”
He could tell by the way her cheeks flushed even more that she hadn’t meant to release the whispered word and, truthfully, he experienced a little embarrassment—or something—of his own, because it didn’t appear to be a term of surprise that he’d shaved, but a whisper of appreciation. And it ebbed through him much like those sun rays eased through the trees, warming him, reminding him of the way it felt to be seen as a man by a beautiful woman.
Cody pointed to the plate and broke the charged tension that’d caught Jack by surprise.
Jack cleared his throat and did his best not to stare at the woman now walking toward his porch. Instead, he focused on the boy, standing very near now, and still pointing at the plate filled with biscuits.
“You want some?” he asked.
Another slight nod, and then Cody dropped the heavy bags to the ground and sat on the middle step.
“Cody’s cabin counselor called me when he didn’t show up at the dining cabin for breakfast. He left with the group but must have taken a detour on the way. I figured he might have come here.” Elise pushed a heavy wave of hair away from her face as she spoke. “Cody, I asked you to tell an adult when you want to leave Willow’s Haven. Remember?”
Cody nodded and frowned.
“Okay. Let’s make sure to do that next time. Understand?”
Another nod, and then Cody returned his attention to the plate of biscuits and pointed again.
Elise laughed softly. “I’m sure he’s hungry, if you have enough.”
“I’ve got plenty.” Jack was glad he’d fixed the large can of biscuits. “Hang on, I’ll get some more from inside.” Then he wondered whether they’d also want to eat on the porch, the way he’d done since he moved in. “Or would y’all rather come in to eat? I don’t have a kitchen table yet. I haven’t gotten that far in my furniture building. But we could eat...” He didn’t exactly know where they’d eat. There wasn’t much in the cabin yet beyond a desk, a few chairs and a mattress.
“Out here is fine.” Elise still stared at his face. “I—You look so different.”
And that was all it took for that raw, exposed feeling to take over and for him to wonder how much she saw. He could tell by the expression on her face—and by the one-word exclamation earlier—that she didn’t mind the way he looked. But could she see more than mere appearance? Like how he felt empty without the family that completed him? Or how he blamed God for taking everything he loved away, so much that he refused to make another film to glorify a Creator who hadn’t cared?
Instead of responding, he stood and started inside. “I’ll get more.” Then he stopped at the door. “I have coffee, if you want some. And milk for you, Cody, if you like.”
“Coffee is fine,” she said. “I don’t need anything in it, though. And Cody loves milk.”
Thankful that he at least had some dishes, and also grateful for the supply of groceries he’d gathered from Stockville last week, Jack left them on the porch to gather the breakfast items. He’d bought an abundance of food because he didn’t plan to go into town more than a couple times per month. And he’d chosen Stockville, a city a little farther away, for his shopping to limit his exposure and noticeability to the folks who’d most likely show up for a visit.
Little did he know Cody would find him by merely walking through the woods.
Jack didn’t need to get wrapped up in the desires of a boy JJ’s age, didn’t need to have visitors or feed them when they showed up at his door. But Cody wasn’t just “some boy.” He’d been through more than any other kid Jack had known, losing his parents, his entire family. The same way Jack lost his. How could he not try to help the child?
He poured the coffee and milk and brought them out to find Elise standing so close to the entrance that he nearly hit her with the door.
She took a step back, but not far enough that he didn’t catch her citrusy scent. And he found himself enjoying it much more than the yeasty smell of the biscuits and crisp aroma of coffee that filled the kitchen.
“I thought you might need help carrying things out, but I didn’t want to come in without asking.” She looked at him shyly and, though she didn’t have on an ounce of makeup, her dark eyes couldn’t have been prettier amid that