“No, just the aftereffects of the bejesus getting scared out of me.”
He draped an arm around her shoulders and led her to the bed, then pulled her down beside him. She was reminded of the song on her playlist about storms never lasting. “Is it over? Can we go outside?” she asked.
“I think it’s just rain and hail right now, but if that was the big pecan tree in the backyard that fell on the cellar door, we’ll be here until someone comes to see about us,” he answered.
“Or maybe the tornado threw that other tree it grabbed up down the road back down on us.” Nessa’s heart pounded in her chest even harder, and her hands felt clammy. Her eyes darted around the small space. Shelves stocked with canned goods at the end of the oblong room and a small table where the oil lamp sat were all that was down there, except for the twin bed. She wasn’t sure what was storm fear at that point and what was fear of finally being in a place where she and Jackson could talk.
Face your fears. Her father had preached that so many times. Don’t be afraid to put your trust in God. Give Him your life and your heart.
But Jackson isn’t God. He’s just a man, she argued.
“I’ll try to open the door, but I can tell you right now that we’re here until someone rescues us.” Jackson got to his feet and put his shoulder and both hands against the door, but it didn’t budge. “I just hope the house and shop are still standing when we get out of here. That still sounds pretty fierce out there. Uncle D. J. and I had to come down here a few times, but we never saw anything like that funnel.”
The idea of the tornado and wind blowing Nanny Lucy’s house away hit Nessa harder than the idea of being stuck in a cellar until someone came to rescue them. A lump formed in her throat when she thought of Flynn and April being covered up with the debris from the house with no way to get out of the cellar under the garage floor. She pulled her phone from her hip pocket and groaned when a message popped up saying she had a low battery. She sent a quick text asking Flynn if they were all right, and got one back saying they were safe and about to survey the damage at Nanny Lucy’s.
We’re stuck in Jackson’s cellar. Send hell..p
She started to correct the spelling but hit send instead.
“Did you bring your phone?” she asked Jackson.
“It’s in the house, if it’s still standing,” he groaned. “Did you get a message out?”
She nodded. “But it’s misspelled. I hope they know I meant for them to send help and not hell.”
Jackson’s chuckle relieved some of Nessa’s tension. “I’d take a little hell if it could remove whatever is laying on the door. I sure hope it’s a tree and not my table saw. But the important thing is that we’re safe.” He draped an arm around her shoulders. “Another minute and you would have been caught right in the middle of the thing.”
Nessa shivered from her neck to her toes.
“Cold?” Jackson asked again as he pulled her closer to his side.
She shook her head. “I saw that funnel tear a tree out of the ground like it was a toothpick and swallow it whole just before we got into the cellar. I thought we would both be sucked up into that thing and never get to have our talk.”
“We’re a couple of lucky people,” Jackson said, “but what were you doing out in this weather, anyway? Not that I’m complaining. It would be lonely down here with just Tex to talk to. I’d thought maybe I’d call you and ask if we could meet at the waterfall.”
Nessa drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know how to approach this without sounding like a jealous fishwife. The day after our third date, when we . . .” She paused.
“When we made love,” he finished the sentence for her.
“Yes.” She was going to say “had sex,” but she liked his phrase better. “That next day you were with a tall brunette woman at Walmart, and she kissed you on the cheek. Then you drove off with her in your truck.”
Jackson drew his dark brows down and cocked his head to the side. After a minute, his face relaxed and he smiled. “Oh, that was Brenda. She’s the wife of a lawyer friend of mine in Paris. She was practicing for a new play over at the Paris Community Theatre. She got a flat tire between the theater and Walmart, so I gave her a ride to the store. Her husband was at work, and her dad and brother were going to be a little while getting a tire and taking care of her car, so I took her home.”
“Did you ever do theater work?” Nessa asked.
“No, musicals aren’t my thing.” He grinned. “So, jealous fishwife, huh?”
“Are you just a knight in shining armor, coming to a stranded damsel’s rescue like that?” She avoided the question.
Jackson’s grin got bigger. “Yep, I guess I am, but I know the family. Her husband tried to recruit me into his firm when I first came here. His name is Grady. He and Brenda bought a hope chest from me for their daughter’s sixteenth birthday, and every now and then, Grady still calls to see if I’m ready to go back to the law business.”
“That woman has a sixteen-year-old daughter?” Nessa gasped.
“Yes, and four kids younger than that one. The sixteen-year-old helps out in her dance studio over in Paris, but they live on a ranch out north of Sun Valley,” he answered. “Is that why you were so distant the past few days?”
Nessa nodded. “I judged you by another man’s half bushel.”
“Uncle D. J. used that expression pretty often. I’d never heard it before I moved to Blossom. He told me it meant judging one person’s actions by someone else that you know. So who did you judge me by?” Jackson asked.
“Uncle Matthew and my father all rolled into one. My uncle because he’s a womanizer, and my dad because he preaches love and Jesus, but he’s got a lot of anger in him,” she answered honestly.
“I’m not either of those guys,” Jackson said. “If I’m in a relationship, then I’m faithful. And honey, after I have sex with a woman, I don’t dump her and never call. I’m thirty-two years old, and my mama would still come after me with a switch if I ever showed that kind of disrespect to a lady. So tell me, are we in a relationship or not?”
Nessa nodded. “I’d like that, but we’ve only known each other a month.”
Jackson tipped her chin up with his rough knuckles and leaned in to kiss her. When the kiss ended, he whispered, “I fell in love with you the first time I laid eyes on you.”
“It was dark then,” she said with half a giggle. “You couldn’t even see me clearly.”
“I could see enough,” he said.
“When we get out of here, and if it’s still the light of day, are you still going to be able to say that?” She laid her head on his shoulder.
“Of course.” He toyed with a strand of her hair. “I’ll even shout it from the rooftop if you want me to. That is, if I’ve got a roof left.”
“Hey, if the tornado took your shop and house, you can have the quilting shed to work in, and I’ll suspend my quilt rack from the living room ceiling. You can stay with us. All I’ve got is a twin bed with a trundle underneath it, but I’ll make Flynn trade rooms with me,” she said.