Firefighter With A Frozen Heart. Dianne DrakeЧитать онлайн книгу.
certainly not the same person I was, so let’s just not dwell on the things we messed up. Okay? I have a good life going. A great life, thanks to your aunt. She was everything to me, Jess, and because of that, I don’t want to fight with you. So can we agree to be cordial with each other?” She truly wanted to add not looking back to that request, but she had looked back, more than once over the years, and she always would. Because there’d been a few days when she’d dreamed of being a wife and mother. Those dreams had made her happy, probably the happiest she’d ever been because she’d been in love with Jess. Totally, completely in love. With the qualifier that it had been the love of a rather immature sixteen-year-old. With a baby on the way … Or so she’d thought until the test had come back negative.
The dream had come and gone so quickly. It had taken her some time to come to terms with it, come to terms with the end of her future fantasy life, but the day she’d gone to tell Jess the truth … She still had nightmares. What she’d done to him, the pain she’d caused him …
Her pain, too. But she’d thrown herself into making a better life. And succeeded. Which was why she was surprised by her feelings now. Surprised by the pain that was slipping its way back in. Seeing Jess again was good, but it hurt.
“Cordial is good,” Jess agreed. “I’m not expecting anything. Don’t deserve anything. And, God knows, you’ve got every right to hate me. What I did was inexcusable.”
“No, it wasn’t. Like you said, we were kids.” Kids who never got a chance to be kids. Maybe that’s why their emotions had been so intense. At such young ages, they’d both known so much pain. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. But I’m curious. Did Grace ever know I thought I was pregnant? Did you ever tell her?”
Jess shook his head. “I never told her, but she probably knew anyway. That’s how she was.”
Yes, that’s how she had been. “Well, that was around the same time she started talking to me about making real plans for my life, trying to show me some options for finding a better way. Anyway … I need to get going. I’m heading back in to work the night shift in a little while, and I’d like to run home and grab a quick shower first. So … I’m glad you’re feeling better after that incident in New York. And I’m really glad you have such a good family here to take care of you while you’re recovering. You’re a lucky man.”
“Well, I’ll be here next week for spaghetti night, and I’m sure my family would love to have you come back, if you can. So maybe I’ll see you around …”
“Maybe,” she said, heading for her car. Although she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Or wasn’t sure if she could. Because right now her head was spinning and her chest hurt. All she wanted to do was get into her car, drive away and go someplace where she could cry for the things that had never been, and the things that never could be. All of them about Jess.
Puttering his way along the back road, Jess wasn’t in any particular hurry to return to his cabin. It wasn’t that he minded being alone. That’s the way he spent most of his life now. In many ways, it was preferable. Getting involved, having someone be the center of his life … what was the point? As much as he’d loved Donna, he hadn’t been able to make the real commitment to her, the one every future bride should expect from the man she’d consented to marry. He’d tried. Gotten involved in the plans, smiled when she’d talked about the dream. Their dream. But she’d known he’d been struggling with all that … permanence. Had asked him about it, even though he’d denied it. Yet it had been something he hadn’t been able to hide, and the closer they’d got to that permanence, the more it had shown on him. Then he’d hurt her and for that he’d never forgive himself. She’d loved him and in return he’d broken her heart.
Was that what she’d been thinking about when she was killed—her broken heart, his inability to be everything she deserved?
Even now, two years after Donna’s death, there wasn’t a day that went by when he didn’t replay those last few moments with her. Could he have done something different? Been different for her? Maybe faked the feelings? Faked the whole happy with the domestic lifestyle thing until he had settled in and it had become a habit?
Donna Ingram. Beautiful. Smart. Full of life. She’d always led with her heart and, in so many ways, he envied that. All she’d wanted had been a normal life with a man who’d never had normal in his life. Impossible odds, as it had turned out. And overwhelming regrets.
Tonight Donna was on his mind, as she often was. Tonight, though, Julie Clark was also on his mind, but for other reasons. Julie had been his first love and, once upon a time, they’d made plans, too. Sure, their plans had been childish. They’d talked about running away together. Or maybe getting jobs and saving their money so they could backpack or bike across America, or Canada, or the whole of Europe. Impractical plans that had seemed so real and so exciting for a short time. But then Julie had thought she was pregnant, and, stupid kid that he was, he’d been thrown for a big curve. So he’d taken the easy way out by listening to his dad. It’s a trap, Jess. That’s all it is. She’s setting a trap for you. So, don’t be stupid, son. Kick her to the curb before it’s too late, before she ruins your life. Yeah, great advice from a drunk child abuser and overall mean slimeball of a man who’d masqueraded as the town doctor. The hell of it was, he’d listened. He’d accused, he kicked, then he’d run. What a jerk!
But that was only the first time. He’d pretty much done the same thing with Donna, hadn’t he? Maybe not kicking her to the curb so much as edging her there. Being gentle, trying not to hurt her in the process. But it was all the same and, in the end, he’d hurt her anyway.
Now, tonight, an entire lifetime of miserable failures was poking him from every side, and he just wasn’t in the mood to be poked alone. So, turning off the main road, Jess headed back to Lilly Lake. Brassard’s Pub was as good place as any to be in a bad mood. He didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, didn’t care to play darts. But he craved the noise. Wanted it all around him. Wanted it to permeate every pore in his body, reminding him that he was still alive since he wasn’t even so sure about that. So, yes, Brassard’s was the place. Loud jukebox, louder bartender, and on a good night, a crowd that could be heard halfway over to the next county. Yes, it was exactly where he wanted to be.
“Jess!” the bartender yelled across the noisy room. The owner-bartender, Will Brassard, was also head of the Lilly Lake Volunteer Fire Department. “I heard you inhaled.”
Jess thought about waving him off in favor of an isolated corner, but Will was a nice guy, married to a nice woman, father of some nice kids. Living the life Jess had thought he’d have by now. “Twice,” he shouted back. “I inhaled twice.”
“So what did they give you for it?” Will shouted. “A commendation?”
If only … “Two weeks vacation.” Rather than shouting the story, which he knew he was about to tell, he shoved his way through the crowd, half of them dancing to the music, and made his way to the bar stool on the end, the one where he didn’t have to sit and face himself in the mirror behind the bar. “Two long, restful weeks up at the cabin, looking at the walls, pacing the floor and taking up knitting because … let’s just say that I didn’t follow orders as well I should have. Funny how that works out, isn’t it?”
Laughing, Will held out his hand in greeting. “Well, my wife knits, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be, because if you don’t follow the knitting rules, you end up getting … well, to me it looks like a big ball of knots. So, if you’re looking for some activity …” He pointed to the far end of the room, where several of the locals were engaged in what seemed to be a rather bland card game … one eye on the cards, one eye on the old, large-screen, rear-projector TV where reruns of a college basketball game were wobbling across the screen in hues of green and orange.
“Not my thing, but thanks for the offer. Likewise, don’t do darts.”
Will started to point to the beer tap, but stopped. “That’s right. You don’t drink either, do you?”
“Because