Page 33 of Saving Jennifer
“So, you’re the French girl who’s got my Noah tied up in knots,” she said, her Tennessee drawl softening the bluntness of her words.
“Ma,” Noah warned, but Vivian waved him off.
“Hush, boy. I’ve come all this way to meet her.” She stepped forward, taking Jennifer’s hands in her own. “You look half-starved, child. Didn’t these boys feed you?”
Jennifer found herself smiling despite her nervousness. “They’ve been very kind, Mrs. Temple. I promise, I’m getting fed regularly.”
“Vivian, honey. Mrs. Temple was my mother-in-law, and that woman was a holy terror.” She patted Jennifer’s cheek. “Now, sit back down and finish your breakfast while I make something proper for later.”
“Ma, you shouldn’t have come,” Noah said, though his protest lacked conviction.
Vivian was already rummaging through the kitchen cupboards. “When my son says his brother is protecting a witness against international criminals, you think I’m going to sit at home and knit? Besides, I’ve got four strapping boys here to protect me. I’m safer here than in church on Sunday.”
Jennifer watched as the family fell into easy patterns—Caleb teasing Marcel about his late arrival with a detour by the fishing hole, Jonah quietly discussing security with Noah, all while Vivian commandeered the kitchen with practiced efficiency. The cabin, which had seemed small but big enough for two, now felt wonderfully full.
“More coffee, Jennifer?” Vivian asked, already refilling her cup. “You’ll need it. These boys can be a handful on the best of days. When they are in protective mode? Oy…”
“I—thank you,” Jennifer managed, overwhelmed by the woman’s casual acceptance.
Vivian paused, studying Jennifer’s face. “You miss your mama, don’t you?”
The unexpected question caught Jennifer off guard. “How did you—”
“I know that look,” she said gently. “How long since you’ve seen her?”
“It’s been months,” Jennifer whispered. “Since I came to America, doing afavorfor my half-brother.” She practically spit out the word favor. Every time she thought about how she’d fallen for Tarik’s lies, she felt like a fool. “Turns out he wasn’t the man I thought, and he was using me. After he was killed, and I was pretty much run out of Texas and told to never come back, his family contacted me. Long story short, they tried to use me the same way Tarik had, but I eventually realized they were planning something so horrible, so heinous, I couldn’t stay silent. And now I am to testify against them.”
Vivian clicked her tongue sympathetically. “That’s a long time for a girl to be away from her mama. Especially when danger’s all around.”
Jennifer nodded, fighting the sudden tightness in her throat, the unshed tears choking her. “She doesn’t know. About any of this. I couldn’t risk telling her.”
Noah looked up sharply. “You haven’t contacted your mother at all?”
“It wasn’t safe,” Jennifer said. “The Amirs have connections. They could trace calls, monitor emails. I couldn’t risk leading them to my mother. As it is, she’s had to go in hiding to keep the Amirs from finding her.”
Vivian’s hand covered Jennifer’s. “You’ve been carrying this all alone, haven’t you?”
Something in the older woman’s voice—the simple, maternal concern—broke a wall inside Jennifer. Months of fear, of loneliness, of constantly looking over her shoulder came rushing to the surface. Her eyes burned with tears.
“I’m sorry,” she managed, trying to blink them away. “I don’t usually—”
“Oh, honey,” Vivian said, pulling Jennifer into a fierce hug. “You go right ahead and cry. Lord knows you’ve earned it.”
Jennifer stiffened at first, then melted into the embrace. It had been so long since anyone had held her like this—like she mattered, like she was more than just a witness to be protected. She thought of her mother’s apartment in Paris, the scent of lavender and fresh bread, the view of the Seine from her balcony. Her job, her friends, her favorite café…all of it suspended in a life that now seemed to belong to someone else.
When she finally pulled back, wiping her eyes, she found the Temple brothers studiously avoiding her gaze, giving her the dignity of privacy even in the small cabin.
All except Noah, who watched her with an intensity that made her breath catch.
“Better?” Vivian asked, smoothing Jennifer’s hair as if she were one of her own.
Jennifer nodded. “Thank you. I’m usually stronger than this.”
“Strength isn’t about not crying,” Vivian said firmly. “It’s about standing when the crying’s done. Letting it out is always better than trying to keep it inside. It’ll build up and then you’ll have an explosion—usually at the worst possible time.”
Jennifer managed a watery smile. “My mother would like you.”
“And I’m sure I’d like her,” Vivian declared. “Any woman who raised a daughter brave enough to stand up to criminals like the Amirs must be somebody special.”