Starting Over in Maple Bay by Brittney Joy

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

 

 

 

By sunset, they’d trailered all nine horses back to Frankie’s and got them settled in their safe, temporary home. Because the horses needed veterinary attention, they were each placed in a stall in the barn. Everyone chipped in to prep the barn, even the kids. Wheelbarrows of cedar shavings were filled and dumped into each stall, making soft, clean pillows for the exhausted horses to rest. Fresh water was pumped into buckets, feeders were filled with green hay, and there were plenty of pats and rubs given throughout. As the evening went on, whinnies and pacing turned into chewing and quiet, and Hazel found herself relaxing too. She was dirty and tired, but happy knowing she played a part in rescuing these beautiful animals.

As she walked down the barn aisle, Hazel found Frankie in the stall with the dark brown horse that seemed to be the sickest. Jesse said the mare had colicked—which Hazel learned was a clinical term for abdominal pain that could turn deadly in a short amount of time.

Hazel stopped in the open stall door. “Is she doing better?” Hazel asked, knowing the vet had spent a good part of the evening treating this mare and stitching up the other two horses with deep wounds.

“She is.” Frankie petted the mare’s shoulder. The horse was standing, but looked exhausted. “But she’s going to need monitoring overnight.”

“Don’t worry about the kids. I’ll take care of them. Have they eaten yet? Is there anything else I can do for the horses?”

Frankie gave her a tired smile. “Joyce has the kids in the house. She whipped up some brats and tots. Why don’t you go eat and rest? Believe me, Joyce has the kids handled. Garrett will stay here with me. We’ll take shifts watching this one overnight.”

Hazel felt bad going to get food and take a shower while Frankie stayed in the barn to help the sick horses. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can help with?”

Frankie pursed her lips like she was thinking. “Could you get me and Garratt some brats? And tots?”

“Absolutely.” Hazel turned to leave the barn, but Frankie stopped her.

“Hazel?” Frankie asked. Hazel peeked back into the stall. “I didn’t mean to drop that bomb on you. Mom’s letters, I mean. I knew she left them in the carriage house for you. I just wanted you to find them sooner than later.”

Hazel nodded in thought. “Have you read them?”

Frankie shook her head. “Haven’t had the courage to go through much of Mom’s stuff since she passed.”

“I read the first letter . . .” Hazel trailed off and leaned against the wooden stall door.

“What did it say?” Frankie softly prodded.

“That she gave me up for adoption because she was too young, but that she thought of me often.”

The two women stared at each other, hurt for different reasons.

“She thought of you all the time,” Frankie said, concern wrinkling her forehead. “She told me that before she passed.”

Hazel wasn’t sure she had the capacity to talk about the letters or Rose tonight. She’d gone through a whole rollercoaster of emotions today, and now she just wanted to rest—her mind and body. “It’s just a lot to take in. Too much for tonight, I think.”

Frankie ran a hand over the horse’s shoulder, petting her. “I’ll read them with you if you want.” Her offer was tentative, verging on nervous, and it urged a lump into Hazel’s throat.

Hazel cleared her throat. “I’d like that.” Hazel figured the letters would be hard for Frankie to consume as well. Maybe they could help each other navigate Rose’s words? She gave Frankie a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right back with some food for you and Garrett.”

Then she walked out of the barn, leaving her conversation about Rose and the letters for another night.

When Hazel entered the house, she saw Joyce and all five kids sitting around the kitchen table. She had the boys, Grace, and Charlie. Everyone was focused on a wooden board game filled with marbles.

Hazel shut the front door and Joyce looked up at her. The kids did not.

“Hey, sweetie,” Joyce started, and Hazel’s anxiety waned. She liked how Joyce used a term of endearment even though she barely knew Hazel. “You hungry?”

“I am. And I was going to grab some food for Frankie and Garrett too. Frankie said you made some brats?”

Joyce pointed to the kitchen counter. There were tinfoil wrapped paper plates. The rest of the kitchen was spotless. “I’ve got plates made up for you, Frankie, Garrett, and Jesse. Should still be warm. Would you mind taking a plate to Jesse’s? He should be back from our barn soon. He went with Evan to finish chores at our place.”

Hazel wondered where Jesse had gone in the past hour. He’d stayed at Frankie’s to situate all the horses, and then he went to continue work at his family’s barn? He had to be wiped by now. “Sure.”

Hazel moved into the kitchen and stacked the warm plates on top of one another. “Thanks so much for cooking and watching the kids, Joyce. Really appreciate it.”

Joyce waved a hand at her. “No problem at all. We watch out for each other around here. Besides, I love these little stinkers. Any time with them is a good time.” She wrinkled her nose at Charlie, Wyatt, Tommy, Noah, and Grace. “Your turn, Noah.”

Noah knelt in his chair and reached over the table to move a marble on the board.

“What are you guys playing?” Hazel asked.

“Joyce is teaching me how to play Chinese Checkers,” Grace replied, looking excited as she stared at the board and then moved a white marble.

Hazel smiled and her heart warmed. Growing up in the city, she’d never experienced such a tight-knit community, people willing to help at the drop of a hat. Her graduating class had over six hundred students—many of which she didn’t know—and most of her neighbors kept to themselves. But ever since Hazel arrived in Maple Bay, it was like she’d been sucked into a family, even when she resisted it.

“Thank you,” she said again to Joyce, and then opened the fridge to grab a few drinks. “Maybe you can teach me how to play another time?”

“You betcha,” Joyce replied, as Hazel dug in the fridge. “There’s some cool beers in the crisper. Jesse would probably appreciate one.”

Hazel grabbed waters for Frankie and Garrett. Then she opened the crisper and grabbed a few bottles of beer as well. They were well-deserved tonight.

After delivering food and drinks to Frankie and Garrett, Hazel made her way to Jesse’s house. Cool evening air had snuck in, blowing out the hot day, and a low roll of thunder groaned in the distance. Hazel started jogging down the dirt road when big, sporadic raindrops began falling. By the time she made it to Jesse’s cottage, the sky had opened, and rain was falling in sheets.

Hazel bound onto Jesse’s porch and whipped open the screen door. The house was dark other than the light above the kitchen sink, so Hazel figured Jesse wasn’t back yet. Once inside, she decided to leave his dinner and a beer on the kitchen counter. Should she leave a note? Hazel set the tinfoil plates and two beers on the counter and found a magnetic notepad and pen on his fridge. She put pen to paper but what was she going to write? Thanks for coming to my rescue today, here’s a brat. Your friend, Hazel? Or, Glad you punched that guy out. Got you a beer? Or,I thought about kissing you today, after you hugged me?

Hazel shook her head and quickly scribbled, Have a good night. - Hazel.

She went to set the pen down, but nearly jumped out of her skin when Jesse burst through the door. The pen went flying and bounced off the cupboards.

“I brought you a brat,” Hazel spat out, realizing she’d clutched at her heart at Jesse’s entrance. He looked just as surprised to find her standing in his kitchen. “I mean, your mom made dinner. Just dropping it off.”

Jesse sighed and ran a hand through his wet, dark hair, pushing it from his face. It looked like he’d been caught in the rain a little longer than she had. His blue jeans were soaked and peppered in mud below the knee, but it was his shirt that captured Hazel’s eyes. His cotton t-shirt clung to his chest, looking like a second skin over hard-to-miss muscles. The thin cloth tightened and loosened as he caught his breath.

“Driving the four-wheeler instead of my truck wasn’t the smartest decision.” Rain dripped from his elbow to the tile floor. 

“Here.” Hazel grabbed the dish towel on the counter and handed it to him. She might as well have thrown him a napkin. The towel wasn’t going to accomplish much, but Jesse took it anyhow. He wiped his neck and face, and she begged her eyes to look away. But as Jesse dabbed the rain away, Hazel noticed the state of his hand.

“Oh my gosh.” She stepped toward him and gently pulled his hand from his face. His knuckles were ripped open and bleeding. She could see the start of bruising. “You need to get this cleaned up.”

Before Jesse could protest, Hazel led him to the sink and turned on the faucet. She eased his hand under cool water, moving it back and forth, and used her own fingers to gently rub away the dirt and blood. When his hand was washed clean, Hazel turned off the water and looked up. She still held Jesse’s hand and didn’t realize how close he was to her. His blue eyes were locked on her, as if his knuckles weren’t even a thought.

Her brain scrambled and spit out the next logical thought. “You need to get some ice on this.” Letting go of his hand, she opened the freezer and removed an ice tray. Cracking it apart, Hazel shook out a few cubes and rolled them into the wet dish towel.

“I’m fine, Hazel.”

She ignored him and wrapped his hand in the cold, rolled towel, tying it at his palm. “You’re going to need some ibuprofen and antibiotic ointment. Do you have that?”

Jesse grinned. “Yes, I have ibuprofen and ointment, but I what I really need is this.”

He leaned toward her, and Hazel’s heart slapped her in the face. For a second, she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he took a beer from the counter. Holding it with his wrapped hand, he twisted the cap off with his other. “Join me for a beer?”

Hazel pressed her lips together, telling her heart to settle down. For goodness’ sake. It was like she’d never been alone with a man before.

Jesse offered Hazel the sweating, open bottle. She tried to tell herself that she should head back to Frankie’s, but she knew everyone and everything was taken care of there. Besides, she’d planned on drinking that cold beer, with or without company, and spending a little extra time with the man holding it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

“Sure.” Hazel accepted the bottle. Jesse opened the other.

He raised his arms, as if she needed a reminder of how his clothes clung to his body. “I’m too wet and dirty to sit down in the house. Join me on the deck? There’s a covered area.”

Hazel took a sip of her beer, swallowing hard. She nodded and Jesse led her out the backside of the house. The wooden deck overlooked the lake and the first ten feet or so was covered by an overhang—which was good because rain continued to fall, hard. They each took a seat in rocking chairs.

Raindrops pounded the roof and slapped the lake. They couldn’t hold a conversation over the rain, but it was nice to sit in silence, without any pressure. Hazel enjoyed her drink and breathed in the wet summer air. She let the rhythmic beat of the storm soothe her. By the time she was halfway through her beer, she’d melted into the rocking chair, wondering if she could sleep there.

Eventually, the rain eased and fell to a pitter-patter.

Jesse leaned his head back on the chair and turned his face to her. “What made you ask me about Charlie’s name?” His question shook Hazel out of her trance. She’d almost forgotten about the letter.

Hazel rocked a few more times before replying. “A box I opened had a bunch of letters in it.” She placed a hand on the wooden armrest and ran her fingers over it like a worry stone. “Letters that Rose wrote to me, but never sent.”

Jesse picked his head up tentatively, immediately catching the gravity of her discovery. He patiently waited for Hazel to continue.

Hazel kept rocking, but knew she needed to know the truth, whatever it was. That was why she came to Maple Bay in the first place—to understand a past she hadn’t been part of. “In the letter, Rose said she’d named me Charlotte and wanted to call me Charlie, for short.” Hazel glanced at Jesse. He leaned against the armrest. His chair had stopped moving.

He shook his head, slowly. “I didn’t know.”

Hazel scrunched her brow, more confused than before. “You didn’t know what?” There was something he wasn’t telling her. “Why’d you name your daughter Charlotte? Did it have anything to do with the name that Rose picked out for me?”

Jesse ran his teeth over his bottom lip, considering what he was about to say. “Charlotte is Frankie’s middle name. Frankie’s full name is Francine Charlotte Barnes. Before she was married, her maiden name was Francine Charlotte Lovell. When Frankie was little and got in trouble, Rose would call her by her full name. Sometimes, she’d even call her Frankie Charlie Lovell. My daughter is named after Frankie.”

Hazel had stopped rocking her chair now too. She’d gathered that Frankie and Jesse were close. But that close? Then she remembered what Jesse had told her when she asked about Charlie’s name the first time—that he didn’t name her. “Was Charlie’s mother close with Frankie as well?”

Jesse took some time to answer, and Hazel felt like she shouldn’t have asked that question.

“Charlie’s mom was my sister,” Jesse said after a minute. “She was also Frankie’s best friend. My sister, Sarah, named Charlie after Frankie.”

Hazel’s breath caught in her chest. Her lips parted, and she repeated Jesse’s words in her head. Charlie was Jesse’s niece? Not his daughter?

“I adopted Charlie after my sister, Sarah, passed.” Jesse eased back into his chair. “She died in a horrible riding accident. Charlie’s dad was never involved in her life.”

“I’m so sorry, Jesse,” Hazel offered, stunned.

He reached for his beer and took the last gulp before staring out over the lake. “Charlie has been a complete blessing in my life.” He adjusted the dish towel wrapped around his hand. “But she’ll never know her mom. Sarah was an incredible person. Beyond incredible. She did everything big. She laughed big. She loved big. And she loved Charlie with every inch of her being. She was so excited to have a little girl. Charlie was just a baby when we lost Sarah.”

Hazel closed her eyes, sopping up Jesse’s pain, thinking how incredibly hard it must’ve been to lose a sister and take on the responsibility of her baby at the same time. Her sympathy also stretched over to Frankie. Frankie had lost her best friend and her mother?

Opening her eyes, Hazel reached for and grasped Jesse’s hand—his uninjured one. “You might not know yet what a blessing you are to Charlie, but I can tell you that you are.” He looked at her and she tightened her grip. “I see how you are with her, Jesse. I’ve only known you for a week and I know without a doubt that you’re an amazing father. And if anyone knows the importance of adopted parents, it’s me. You are the most important thing in that little girl’s life, and I’m certain your sister is looking down on you and is so proud of what you’ve done, of how you love Charlie.”

With only the moonlight peering through the rain, it was hard to read Jesse’s expression, but Hazel continued to hold his hand.

“Thank you,” he said, and his vulnerability pushed a piece of her own past to the surface.

A cricket chirped from below the deck. “I thought about adopting. After Grace.” Hazel didn’t admit that to many people. She didn’t know why. It was almost like there was shame wrapped up in her confession.

“Why?” he asked softly. 

Hazel wasn’t sure if it was the emotional day, the cover of the storm, or the fact that she was holding Jesse’s hand, but she was just comfortable enough to continue. “My ex-husband, Bill, and I tried for five years to get pregnant. I had two miscarriages that were nearly the end of me. Grace is my miracle baby. I didn’t think I’d ever get her.”

Jesse began making slow circles with his thumb on Hazel’s palm, like he was encouraging her to continue. It worked. “I didn’t let Grace out of my sight for three years. I never left her. No babysitters. I wouldn’t leave her with my parents. I wouldn’t even leave her alone with Bill. I was scared something bad would happen to her, that she’d stop breathing and I wouldn’t be there to help her. That I’d somehow lose her, and it would be my fault.” The last word caught in her throat and she knew she’d said enough.

“Hazel?” Jesse spoke her name like a question and waited for her to look at him. “The miscarriages were not your fault.”

She couldn’t believe he’d picked up on her guilt even though she hadn’t specifically mentioned it. Hazel nodded. It was an obligatory motion. Hazel carried the loss of her miscarriages with her. Even after ten years she couldn’t convince herself she hadn’t done something to lose her babies. If she’d just been more careful . . . she knew it was why she was overly protective of Grace, but she couldn’t help it.

“I wanted to have a houseful of kids. I would’ve had five, maybe six, but was never able to get pregnant again after Grace. I wanted to adopt, but could never get Bill on board.” If she were being honest with herself, all her fears and doubts had slammed a wedge between her and Bill that grew bigger and bigger over the years. Not that there weren’t other wedges, but that wedge was a big one. And it was Bill’s reluctance to adopt that ultimately distanced Hazel. Years later when Bill cheated on her, Hazel was devastated, but they’d been broken for years. She’d been holding her family together until it literally came apart at the seams.

“What’s keeping you from having more kids? From adopting now?” Jesse asked, and Hazel blinked at him. She hadn’t expected him to ask her that.

“I’ve thought about it. Of adopting on my own, but it’s scary, you know—parenting by yourself.” She gave him a lopsided smile, realizing she was preaching to the choir. “But I guess you know that.”

Jesse bobbed his head. “I was certain I wanted to adopt Charlie, but completely terrified at the same time. I’d always been her fun uncle. Wasn’t sure I’d know how to be her dad.”

“You’re a fast learner.”

“Not so sure about that,” he replied. “Charlie and I lived with my parents for the first six months. I had my own house. Bought this place ten years ago, but Sarah and Charlie had been living with my parents when she passed. I didn’t want to take Charlie out of the home she was used to. Not right away.”

“It was probably also nice to be there, with your mom and dad.” Hazel knew Joyce was a mother hen and was sure she’d been there for Charlie and Jesse, even when she was desperately grieving the loss of her own child. Hazel hadn’t met Jesse’s father yet, but if he was anything like Jesse, Hazel knew he had a kind, protective soul.

“And your other siblings? Do they live close too?” She’d met Jesse’s brother, Evan, today, but had heard Joyce refer to other kids and grandkids. She couldn’t help but be curious as to why his other siblings hadn’t adopted Charlie.

“Most of them do.” He ran a hand threw his dark hair. “Dad, Evan, and I run the breeding and training business. Evan has a place on the other side of my parents’ property. My oldest sister, Anne, lives in town, with her husband and four kids. But my younger sister, Kat, moved to Chicago the year after Sarah passed. I wished she lived closer.”

Jesse shifted in his chair before continuing. “Before the accident, both Kat and Sarah worked in the family business as well. They were really close. Kat took Sarah’s death really hard.”

Jesse’s eyes looked far off, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to continue. Hazel wondered what had happened to his sister, Sarah. Had Jesse witnessed the riding accident? Had Frankie? She continued to hold Jesse’s hand, thinking how completely horrible that must’ve been, no matter how it’d happened.

Jesse sat up, abruptly, jerking Hazel from her thoughts.

“Are you cold?” he asked. “You’ve got goosebumps all over your arms.”

Hazel had been so lost in their conversation that she hadn’t noticed she was getting chilled, but at Jesse’s suggestion her body gave a shiver. “Maybe a little. But—”

She was going to say she should be getting back to Frankie’s, but Jesse got out of his chair and went inside. A few seconds later, he appeared with a flannel shirt.

“Here,” he offered, and Hazel stood to take the shirt from him. Instead, Jesse opened it up and threw it around her like a cloak. Soft cotton slid over her bare shoulders. Jesse tugged the shirt gently to cover her arms. “That should warm you up.”

Hazel stared up at Jesse. He was backlit by a shimmer of moonlight and it further pronounced his strong features. “Thank you,” she said. He hadn’t removed his hold from the front of the flannel, and the weight of his grip kept the slightest tension between them.

Hazel didn’t move.

Jesse’s eyes took her in like they might surround her. It had been a long time since a man looked at her like that. A long time since she’d allowed it. Even though the rain and thunder had stopped, Hazel felt like she was standing at the edge of a thunderstorm. She didn’t want to step away.

“Hazel?” Jesse asked.

“Yes,” she breathed, wondering if he was going to kiss her. Did she even remember how to kiss a man?

“What were you thinking when you jumped on that guy’s back today?”

She studied Jesse’s tempting lips, distracted even as she answered his question. “That I wasn’t going to let him get away.”

A grin spread across his face. “You’re a lot tougher than you look.”

Hazel blew out a tight breath—along with a laugh—because she knew she looked pretty tough. At least, right now she did. Today she’d been thrown across the ground by a horse-thief, helped save a herd of stolen horses, and ran her dirty-self through the pouring rain. Her wet hair was mostly still contained in a ponytail, her tank top had grass and dirt stains all over it, and the mascara she’d stupidly applied this morning was probably smudged under her eyes like a raccoon.

But Jesse was looking at her like she couldn’t have been prettier.

Hazel stopped breathing when he released a hand from the flannel shirt. Jesse placed a single finger under her chin and tipped her face up. His ice blue eyes explored her for what felt like hours before he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. When he fully released his hold on the flannel, Jesse touched her with only his kiss and a single finger at her jaw. It was like he was giving her an out, space to back away if she wanted.

Hazel closed her eyes and kissed him back. She absorbed his sweet, strong scent—like cedar and wildflowers. A hint of the beer they’d shared lingered on his lips, and Hazel knew she was drawn into his kiss because they’d shared much more than a drink. It was like a thread had been sewn, connecting them through a buried past.

Wanting to be just a little closer, Hazel ran a shaky hand up his chest and brushed her fingertips over the dark stubble of his jaw. Jesse deepened the kiss and for that moment, Hazel let herself get lost in him.

But deep down, Hazel knew she couldn’t fall for this man. Her life was not in Maple Bay. And she was coming to learn that Jesse deserved a woman that was all-in, someone that wouldn’t pack up and leave at the end of the summer.

Reality gave Hazel pause, and she opened her eyes. When she did, Hazel spotted headlights shining through the house. She pulled back just as the front door squeaked open.

From inside the house, a man’s voice called, “Jesse?”

Jesse’s eyes went wide, though they still held a haze. “It’s Garrett,” he said, and Hazel instinctively dropped her hand and pulled Jesse’s flannel around her like a blanket. “He’s probably got Charlie.”

Jesse cleared his throat and opened the screen door that led back into the house. “I’m on the deck, Garrett.”

Garrett’s shadow moved through the living room. As he neared the screen door, Hazel saw that he was carrying a sleeping Charlie.

“Oh, sorry,” Garrett said, as he peeked out onto the deck. His eyes flitted over Jesse and Hazel. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. Was just bringing Charlie home, because she fell asleep playing Chinese Checkers.”

“It’s fine,” Jesse replied, still holding the door open. “Thanks for bringing her home.”

Hazel didn’t think Garrett saw them kissing, but realized she was standing close to Jesse and wearing his flannel. Her cheeks blazed like hot plates.

“I should be getting to bed too,” Hazel said. “It’s been a long day. Can I ride home with you, Garrett?”

“Sure.” Garrett looked like he wasn’t sure what to do next.

Hazel walked into the house. Jesse followed.

“I’ll take her.” Jesse reached out for Charlie and took his daughter from Garrett. Her little body fell against Jesse like a sack of potatoes.

“Where do you want me to put this?” Hazel started to pull the flannel from her shoulders.

“Keep it,” Jesse insisted. “It’s cold outside. I can get it from you tomorrow.”

Hazel froze with one shoulder exposed. Then she eased the soft cotton back over her skin. “Thanks.” She was sure she blushed again. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow,” Jesse replied.

They all said good night and Hazel endured an awkward ride home with Garrett. Thankfully, it was a short drive.