Chapter Five
Jax
I’m so pissed, I’m seeing red. Keeping my eyes fixed on my food I take another bite. This is exactly why I need to stay away from people. Some motherfucker body shamed her. I want to school them with my fist.
“Jax, is something wrong?” She’s studying me from across the table.
“No. Well yeah. I don’t like it when people belittle others. Make fun of them. Shit happens in everyone’s life that is out of our control. And some things should always be off limits.
“This whole thing you hear about people, kids, making fun of others on social media and at school… well it’s wrong.”
Her expression softens. “Did people make fun of you?”
Releasing a sigh, I glance at her. Pushing my now empty plate aside, I look at hers. “You finish your meal, every bite, and I’ll answer all your questions, starting with that one.”
Standing, I grab my plate. “Coffee or tea?”
“Coffee this time.” She looks me in the eye and takes a bite of her burger, smiling as she chews.
Later we’re on opposite ends of the loveseat. She’s covered with one of Grams small quilts. Taking a sip of her coffee, she raises an eyebrow. “So, tell me about you.”
“Spent summers with my Gramps for as long as I can remember. My parents weren’t really into the parenting thing. They were already living separately the summer they divorced. Both showed up in town to ‘drop’ me off at Gramps’. They had a big public fight in the town square how neither one of them wanted me. Gramps stepped in, dragged them straight to the courthouse and got custody of me. He demanded they both put money into a savings account to be used for college. And to never darken his doorstep again.”
“Have you ever seen them again?”
“Nope and won’t. I got awarded a couple medals and I got letters from both parents. I threw them away unopened.”
I pause and look at all the books. “Grandma was already gone so it was just Gramps and I. We worked side by side on everything. We read and talked about the books, took care of our land, and chopped wood. He’d tell me about his days as a scout in the military and take me on rescues.
“As you know, our town is small and was even smaller in those days. My family was the talk of the town at the time and everyone knew my parents didn’t want me. Kids, well they ridicule what they don’t understand, tease. I got good grades, was on the baseball, football and track teams, but didn’t hang around town. The jocks were jealous when an ‘outsider’ became quarterback. But their parents sure liked it when we won.
“Gramps did a lot of work with the sheriff back then. His son, Clay, is the current sheriff. He was a couple years younger than me, but I’d see him with his dad and the two of us got along. Clay did his time in the military too, so we understand each other.
“Guess I’m a little bit of a loner by nature, so I just did my work and graduated. Joined the military. I’d come back every time I got leave, people in town would recognize me but most shied away. Clay watched the place for me the last three years of my enlistment. I’d come home when I could.”
I study my cup. I need to tell her. But damn, this hurts. Clearing my throat I meet her gaze head on. “Like I said before, my PTSD is mild. It started about three years ago due… due to a pretty bad mission. I’ve never been violent because of it, or out of control. I just kind of turn in on myself until the feelings pass. When a memory hits me, I sometimes hear things that aren’t there.
“Honestly, the episodes don’t last more than a few minutes. It’s… It’s just disruptive, frustrating that I can’t control it.”
There, it’s out in the open. I study her reaction.
“That’s why you said it took you a few minutes to realize the voice was real. You thought you were having an episode?”
I nod.
She tilts her head. “I’ve seen your kitchen and your bathroom drawers. That must be hard for someone like you who is organized and in control of everything around them. Have you always been like that or is it a side effect of the PTSD?”
Well, she’s not running screaming into the night. That’s a good thing. “I’ve always been detailed and analytical. It’s what makes me a good scout. Those traits have also been helpful in not overreacting to the memories when they hit. “You don’t need to be afraid of me, Maura.”
She smiles. “I’m not Jaxon. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so safe. My family wasn’t much different. My dad was a controlling asshole, and my mom was as absent as possible. I couldn’t wait to get away to college.”
“Where’d you go?”
“SoCal. My major was fashion design. Damn, you didn’t find my backpack. My latest design book was in it.”
“I’m sorry.”
Throwing the cover off, she leans forward and puts her hand on my knee. “Jaxon, you saved my life. Everything else can be replaced or recreated. If I can’t remember what I drew, it must not have been very good.”
Something tightens in my chest. I cover her hand with my much larger one. I study the contrast of her soft pale hand under my work hardened one. What I’d give to have a woman like this.
Whoa boy, she’s fifteen years younger than you. What would she want with an old man?
“I’ve got to go check on the chickens.”
“Can I go with? I’ve never been around any kind of farm animals. Do you have cattle too? Horses?”
“No. Just chickens. Let me find some heavier clothes for you to put on. It’s not a bad idea to teach you about winter ropes.”
“What are they?” she asks as she follows me to the closet next to the bathroom.
I hand her a pair of my jeans to put on over the sweatpants she’s wearing, a thermal shirt, and a button up flannel to cover that. I pull out an old brass flip-top buckle that I adjust around her waist to hold everything in place. “It’s an old-time practice that we still use when a storm is as blinding as this. You tie one end of a rope to your house and one to the barn so you can find your way from one to the other. Since we’re higher on the mountain and can get hit hard, it’s a fool proof backup Gramps and I always used.”
Standing back I take in her outfit and smile.
“What are you smiling at?” she quips before shuffling to the bathroom to look in the mirror. Her laughter is like sunshine in this old house. I meet her gaze in the glass, and she smiles back.
“Not my normal style, but it may have promise.” She laughs.
I bundle her up in one of my coats, rolling the sleeves so just her hands show. “There’s not a pair of boots that will stay on your feet. So we’re gonna load them up in socks and then wrap them in burlap. I’ll be carrying you to the barn anyway.”
“You can’t?—”
“We’ve been over this, babe.”
She sticks her tongue out at me and my cock goes instantly hard.