Two years later…
Jack entered the community center meeting room and took a seat in the back row. Rory Chance stood at a podium.
“Welcome once again to the weekly meeting of Wounded Soldiers. All of us are the same, but different. We all have a story of loss to tell, but in the end, we are all seeking the same thing, a way to move on. I hope by being together each of us can assist the other in finding his way.”
Rory took a seat. Various people told their stories and received advice from others in similar situations. Jack crossed his legs and studied the stitching on his black cowboy boots. The stories were gut-wrenching. Men who had not only lost their legs and arms, but also their wives. Women who had lost their husbands and their homes. There seemed to be no end to the sadness and misery.
The meeting ended with prayer, and the crowd dispersed. Jack stayed in his seat and waited to be noticed.
Rory looked back. A smile tilted his lips, and he waved. Jack mimicked the action and wobbly rose to his feet.
“Fancy meeting you here,” said Rory.
“Nice meeting you as well.”
Rory arched a brow. “He talks…better.”
“Yup, therapy did the trick, and I’m as good as new.”
“Yes, well, you don’t sound anything like you did the last time we spoke.”
“I don’t?”
“No, you don’t.”
“Well, I am from Kentucky, and I guess it finally shows.”
“As much, or more, than my British heritage.”
Jack smiled as they sat closer to the podium. They talked for a couple of minutes about trivial matters. Jack wanted things to stay light; no need to spoil the reunion too early.
“How would you like to come home for dinner?” asked Rory.
“I don’t know. Are you sure your wife won’t mind? I heard she’s expectin’ again.”
“She won’t mind. I’ll call her on the way.”
Jack offered to follow Rory. They pulled off at a pizza joint, and Jack couldn’t help but laugh at the awkward expression Rory flashed him as he entered.
Vehicles back in motion, Jack studied the passing neighborhoods. They slowed before a two-story, red brick, rectangular-shaped home. Bushes and flowering plants decorated the walkway.
Rory and Jack spent the afternoon rehashing old times and vaguely discussing Jack’s rehabilitation. While Hannah typed rapidly in her office, the children, Eve and Joshua, played quietly at their feet.
“So, what are you doing here? I mean, I don’t mind seeing you, because it is always nice to see those who have succeeded, but what are you doing here?”
Jack laughed and rubbed his temple. “Believe it or not I just finished my therapy, and I’ve been released to do just about anything I want.”
“And you want to be here?”
“Honestly?”
“Honestly,” said Rory.
“Honestly, I don’t know what I want. I know I’m going to have to get a job and find a place to live, and maybe even make up with my dad at some point, but right now I just feel, well, lost.”
“Ah.” Rory drummed his fingers on the table. Hannah brought them some dessert and a cup of coffee.
“Sorry, Jack, that I’m not being the best hostess. I have this book due, and then the kids, and quite frankly, I’m completely exhausted.”
“No worries, ma’am. I just appreciate you having me over.”
Hannah fell into a seat and palmed her chin. “Do that again.”
“Do what?” he said, looking at Rory for clarification.
“Talk. Just keep talking.”
“Um? I’m a little confused.”
“There it is again. Oh, your southern accent is so thick! I love it.” She stood quickly and pushed her chair beneath the table. She paced back and forth and mumbled rapidly. “Now if I put the hero in the south, I can make him a farmer, no, maybe a hunter. Ooo, I like it.”
She hurried from the room, and Rory laughed. “I believe my wife just used your accent to plot a new novel.”
“You think?” asked Jack, a wave of heat flushing his cheeks.
“Yes, I do.”
They laughed for a few minutes before Jack grew serious. He ran his hand through his hair. “I think I need to just get away from everything before I start my new life.”
“You’re still looking for her, aren’t you?”
“Who?” Jack gulped. How could it be so obvious?
“You’re still looking for the nurse.”
Jack fiddled with his fingers. He wanted to shout to the rooftops that yes, he was still looking for Raylyn, but what did it matter? She didn’t want to be found.
“I am,” he finally replied.
“Maybe you’re right, and you need time to relax.”
“I agree.”
“I think I have an idea.”
Rory left him in the dining room, and Jack fisted his hands on the table and waited.
****
Jack took a deep breath and inhaled the smell of fresh mountain air.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” asked Rory.
Jack nodded and drew in another deep breath.
“I’m so glad you were able to come. Normally, Hannah comes with me, but this third pregnancy has been rougher than all the rest. Besides the baby, she can’t seem to rest. Stories come to her mind, and she just can’t stop them. I worry she pushes herself too hard.”
“At least she is taking it easy now,” said Jack, setting the rocking chair in motion.
“Yes, at least. She didn’t really want to, but the doctor insisted.”
“I’m glad that friend of hers, Melanie, offered to stay with her for a few days. And I appreciate you giving me this opportunity. I haven’t been fishing since…” The words trailed away and Jack stared into the distance. He didn’t talk about the accident much. What was done was done, and there was no turning back. The only choice a person had was to live with what he’d been given and move on, even if he had to move on alone.
Fishing gear in hand, they walked to a small pond, and Jack stared at the rowboat.
“Are you sure this is such a good idea?”
“Ah, come on, we can do it. Did I tell you about the plans Hannah made for our first wedding anniversary?”
“I’m not sure.”
The boat floated out of reach, and Rory placed his knee on the dock and deftly dragged it closer. He climbed in first and waited for Jack to follow suit. His heart thumped madly as the boat swayed beneath them. With only one foot on the boat, his balance felt off.
“Sit down, Jack.”
He obeyed and clasped the sides until his breathing calmed. Together they rowed to the middle of the pond. Jack began to relax, and Rory continued his story while they caught fish and piled them in a cooler.
“Hannah wanted to jump from a plane.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup. She had the entire thing figured out and cleared with my doctor before I knew about it. Of course, the jump was postponed when we found out she was pregnant. It was the happiest and scariest day of my life.”
Jack stared at the rippling water. The line dipped down, but when he dragged it up, his bait was gone. He groaned.
Rory patted him on the back. “Don’t sweat it. I intended to catch more fish than you anyway.”
They shared a hearty laugh before both of them grew solemn.
“How did you get past those times?” asked Jack as he reeled in his line and put more bait on the hook.
“It wasn’t easy. I kept thinking I was half the man I needed to be, but Hannah and God helped me see otherwise. I was able to look past my faults and move forward.”
“What do you think has helped you the most?”
“Besides God and Hannah, I would have to say my charity work. Without the men I’m able to help, I don’t know what I would do with myself.”
Jack nodded. Rory had his family, his faith, and a worthwhile project. Jack needed to find something he could do to help people; then he wouldn’t be so concerned about himself.
The afternoon waned, and soon it was time to return to the cabin. The place belonged to Rory’s friend, Trevor Jacobs. Most of the time Trevor, his wife Janie, and their young son lived in a house in Pearl Valley, but when they wanted to get away from things, they visited the cabin nestled in the woods of Sapphire Shoals.
The secluded structure supported a group of six comfortably. The area around the cabin offered hiking on established trails as well as fishing on a private pond. The nearest neighbor was over five miles away. It couldn’t be more perfect.
Rory guided the rowboat to the dock and secured it. Jack had been skeptical that two men with only two legs between them could climb in and out of the unstable apparatus, but Rory had assured him it would work.
Once Rory was on the dock, he offered his hand to Jack. The rowboat wobbled beneath him, and he clutched the dock and steadied himself.
“If I go in this water, Rory Chance, you’re going with me.”
The Brit laughed and tugged, hauling Jack out.
They carried their catch to the cabin. Trevor had the perfect setup for cleaning fish, and Rory dove into the activity with gusto. Finished, they carried the goods inside, both opting to clean up before cooking dinner.
Showered and dressed, Jack sat on the bed and studied his phone. The alert light didn’t blink, and he shook it. There had to be something wrong with the thing. He’d been waiting for weeks without word.
Just to be sure, he touched a few buttons and checked the place reserved for text messages. A sigh parted his lips.
He dialed the investigator’s number, placed the phone to his ear, quickly changed his mind, and hung up. If the investigator had found something, then he would have contacted him, plain and simple.
Where was she? Two years had passed since he’d left the hospital where Raylyn had worked. Maybe he should try—
Rory whistled as he passed Jack’s door. Jack pushed to a standing position and shoved his phone in his pocket. By the time he reached the kitchen, the fish sizzled in the pan.
“Amazing how good a hot shower feels after a day of fishing.”
“Yep,” replied Jack as he popped the top on a soda.
“I called Hannah. The children are in bed, and she is typing like a fiend, much to Melanie’s chagrin.”
“Still inspired by my voice?”
“Probably. I’m not sure whether I should be jealous or not.”
Jack snickered, and Rory threw a fake punch.
The fish almost blackened, Jack prepared salad and removed fries from the oven. Placing the tray on the counter, he said, “Food fit for a king.”
They sat at the table and enjoyed the meal. Rory asked, “So how have you been? Since you came to the house, and we planned this trip, we haven’t talked too much.”
“Good.”
“Good? Is that it?”
Jack ignored the question and savored a bite of the flaky fish.
“Don’t want to talk, huh?” Jack didn’t respond, and Rory asked, “What about the voice therapy? Are you still going?”
“Once a week.”
“I can tell a big improvement.”
“I’m just glad it doesn’t hurt now.”
“How about your other therapy?”
Jack swallowed. “It’s going okay. I believe my prosthesis finally fits like it’s supposed to. Still, I love taking the thing off when I can.”
“Understood.” Rory paused before changing the subject. “I thought we could go into town tomorrow. Maybe grab a bit of dinner and check out the local town. I’ve heard there are a lot of jewelry stores.”
Jack agreed. It would be nice to amble through a new town. It might even help him forget his search for Raylyn.