Jackson nodded. “I feel you, but I’m five years ahead of you. I haven’t found ‘it’”—he put air quotes around the last word—“but I’m content, and I keep hoping that it, whatever it is, will find me if I sit still long enough. I read once that happiness, or it—whatever you want to call it—isn’t a destination, it’s the journey. What makes you think you won’t find it here in Blossom?”
“Finding out that Nanny Lucy wasn’t perfect has really, really burst my bubble. How can I find what I’m looking for when all these years I was wrong about this place?” she asked.
“Maybe fate brought you here because this is where you will begin the journey to happiness,” Jackson said. “Most days I’m happy to make my furniture, go to the craft fairs, have a beer after work and a swim when it’s warm weather, but there’s still an ache down deep inside my heart that screams at me that there is something more than this,” Jackson said. “Then I feel guilty for not being satisfied with what I have and the peace that it brings me.”
“Yep,” she agreed, and then she dived into the water, swam out to the edge of the creek, and sat down on the grass beside Tex.
“Are you running from me?” Jackson teased before he did a perfect swan dive into the deep water.
Nessa couldn’t very well tell him that she was attracted to him and that just sitting beside him jacked her hormones into overdrive, especially when she thought about that kiss they’d shared. Or that she wondered if he had something to do with whatever she needed to be happy.
“Nope,” she answered.
He got out of the water, tossed his towel toward her, and said, “Use this to dry your hair. Did you ever miss not having siblings?”
“Oh, yeah, I did.” She soaked up most of the water from her thick, red hair and then handed the towel back to him. “I always wanted a sister or a brother, but Mama says God thought I was enough for her to handle.”
“I have an older sister and an older brother. I was an oops baby, as Mama called it.” Jackson took the towel from her, then draped it around his shoulders.
Nessa stole sideways glances at him, catching glimpses of his square jawline and his broad shoulders. But what caught her attention most was the soft black hair on his chest, still dripping with water. She would have loved to be brave enough to reach out and touch it, then run her hand down his sculptured face, look deep into his eyes, and kiss him.
“Did you get along with your siblings when you were younger?” Nessa finally asked.
“They were gone from home by the time I even started kindergarten. I really didn’t know them so well until I went to work at the firm, and then”—he shrugged—“we argued a lot—and I mean a lot. My sister didn’t think Dad should give me high-profile cases that she felt she deserved and could do a better job with than I could. My brother only just tolerated me even being at the firm.”
“Was that the reason you left the business?” Nessa asked.
“No, I left because I was tired of the long hours, the stress, and doing a job that I didn’t even like. You said you like kids, so you must like teaching. Think you’ll look for a teaching job around here?” Jackson asked.
She shook her head. “I want something different. I want to give making quilts and shipping out kits like Nanny Lucy did a try. I figured out something when I cleaned out that closet. She kept all her feelings and her pain inside, and it was messy like that closet was. Now it’s empty and put to rights, so I hope she can rest in peace.” She sighed. “I only wish that cleaning out the closet had brought me closure. Maybe I should go to the cemetery and talk to her. That sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”
“I haven’t been to Uncle D. J.’s grave in a while. Want to go right now?” Jackson asked. “We’ve still got a couple of hours before it gets dark.”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “Give me ten minutes to change into dry clothes.”
He stood up and extended a hand to help her. She wasn’t a bit surprised at the sparks that danced around them or at the sudden rise in her pulse rate at the touch of his rough hand on hers. Once she was upright, he dropped her hand, but he walked close enough beside her that she could still feel the heat from his body.
“I’ll drive around and pick you up in a few minutes,” he said at the fork in the pathway, and then he broke into a jog toward his own place.
Nessa ran the last hundred yards to the house, dashed through the front door, and went straight to her room.
“Hey!” April looked up from the book she was reading. “What’s got you in such a hurry? And what’s all this money on the table for?”
“I’m going to the cemetery!” Nessa yelled as she closed her bedroom door.
She threw off her wet clothing and dressed in a pair of jeans and a dry T-shirt. There wasn’t much she could do with her still-damp curly hair, so she flipped it up on top of her head in a messy bun, applied a little lipstick, and crammed her feet down into a pair of cowboy boots.
April had moved to the porch with Flynn when she made it outside again to wait for Jackson.
“I like those boots,” Flynn said. “Got a hot date to go dancing at some honky-tonk?”
“Where are you really going? I know I didn’t hear you right,” April said.
“I’m going to the cemetery with Jackson,” she answered. “I hear him driving up the road now. I’ll explain everything when I get home. Take a look at the hall closet. I cleaned it out.”
“Are you going to tell me about this money?” April asked.
“We’re dividing it three ways. Take your third and just leave mine there,” she answered.
“Where did it come from?” Flynn asked.
“The hall closet, and I’d suggest that we go back through whatever you packed up out of the coat closet. I wouldn’t be surprised to find more money in pockets or old purses. There’s Jackson. We’ll talk later.” Nessa hurried down the steps and out to the pickup truck.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Flynn teased.
“That gives you a pretty wide range,” April added.
Heat filled Nessa’s cheeks. She hoped that Jackson thought it was just a flush from hurrying to be ready.
Chapter Sixteen
It’s not a date, Nessa told herself as she fastened her seat belt. If it were a date, he would have opened the door for me, so it’s just two friends who are going to the cemetery to visit their loved ones’ graves.
Jackson waved to Flynn and April and then rolled the window up. “Flynn and April would have been welcome to come along with us.”
“I didn’t invite them,” Nessa said. “I want a little time with Nanny Lucy by myself.” And with you, she added silently.
“I take it that they never did think Miz Lucy was perfect?” he asked as he backed the truck around and headed down the gravel road.
“April didn’t, but she lived there. Flynn might have a little bit, but he’s fighting his own demons. Neither of them thought she was as perfect as I did, though,” Nessa answered.
“The question is, Are you going to get over Miz Lucy falling off her pedestal?” Jackson asked.