12

Jenna tapped her fingers against her thigh. Leukemia. She might have leukemia. Might develop leukemia, she corrected herself. She forced her white knuckled-grip on the steering wheel to loosen.

Her heart twisted. William sat stone-faced in the front passenger seat not saying anything. Not a word about her diagnosis. Not a word about the plumbing accident. Not a word about their almost kiss. Nothing.

“The nurse gave me a website and said it had lots of information. She said not jump to any conclusions without reading up on what all this meant. I also need to call some doctor next week.”

William nodded. His jaw set in a grim line. He had retreated into some sort of uncrackable protective shell.

A lot of good that did her.

The headlights from the oncoming traffic lit his shadowy profile in random intervals. The commute from Bayview to the city hospital usually only took twenty minutes. Tonight, it stretched on for hours. At least that’s how it felt.

She flexed her fingers. They ached at the way they had curled around the steering wheel again. Why didn’t William say something? Anything?

She prattled on, filling the silence. “The blood donor clinic that you organized screens all donations for certain things. This is one of them.”

In the silence, feelings of abandonment suddenly swept in with crushing despair as she remembered what he did—or more specifically didn’t do—after the nurse made her announcement. His retreat and silence clarified a lot of things between them.

Nothing should develop between them. That kiss, or almost kiss, was a lapse in judgment. It was a guilt driven moment she needed to forget.

She peeked at him again. He tipped his head forward and started to pinch the bridge of his nose, then stopped himself. Like it was still too painful to touch. That was her fault, too. Her stomach heaved. Everything had become such a mess. An unredeemable mess.

She inhaled. Hard. Hard enough that William finally turned and looked at her. It felt like the first time he had seen her since the nurse’s announcement.

“You OK?” He gingerly shifted in his seat in order to see her better.

The bare trees whipped by as they zipped down the road. She couldn’t answer. The image of him stepping away from her at the hospital paralyzed her voice.

“Jenna?” William tried again.

She steeled herself against his rough timbre. “I’m fine.”

She angled her head away from him, not wanting him to see how much his withdrawal had hurt her. Damp heat rose behind her eyes and she blinked. She was so stupid. He clearly didn’t care about her. If he did, he would have offered more than disbelief at the nurse’s words.

Her skin burned where his lips had touched her forehead, as if he had branded her for his own. She couldn’t love him. She wouldn’t love the wrong man again. She needed to leave, wanted to tell him that she needed to leave but every time she looked at his battered face, the words stuck in her throat behind a boulder of guilt. She couldn’t leave before the project was done. Especially since her mistake had caused a big delay and she’d nearly disfigured him.

When it became clear she wasn’t interested in conversation, William turned back and faced the front. His lips moved like he was praying. But for what? The supernatural ability to forgive her? For God to rewind time and allow a redo?

“Hey, look at that!” Jenna slowed down and pointed at the church as they passed. The parking lot overflowed with vehicles. Every light in the building shone despite the late hour.

“Turn around,” William ordered, then he softened his tone. “Please.”

Jenna signalled and made a three point turn then slowly pulled into the lot. “Do you know what’s happening?”

“No idea.” His curt tone revealed his exhaustion.

They got out of the car. They’d only stop for a minute. Just long enough for her to see how much damage her impulsive instructions had caused.

Another set of headlights crossed the front of the building, and a van from the television station pulled in next to them. Great. Here to film their epic failure for all creation to enjoy. She stuffed her sarcasm inside and squared her shoulders. She pulled up her chin and sneaked a glance at her silent partner.

William raised an eyebrow, then flinched. That probably hurt, too.

Dead tired. Sore. Emotionally drained. The idea of poking around at the church and smiling for the camera held no appeal. But it was enter, or meet the camera crew who now gathered their equipment from the back of their van near the church’s front steps.

“William, before we go in I have something to say.” She held out her arm and blocked him. Judging by how quickly the cameraman was gathering his things, she only had about thirty more seconds before it was recorded for a television audience. She cleared her throat and swallowed fear. This was her fault. She knew it. He knew it. Professionally and personally she needed to right the wrong no matter how disappointed she was that he withdrew over her recent diagnosis.

“Yes?” William’s guarded smile twisted the knife in her gut. He must be as tired as her.

She rested her hand on his arm. “I promise that I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this.”

“There is nothing you can do to fix the church.” His eyes carried none of the anger she anticipated and deserved.

“I mean it,” she insisted. “Anything.” Except admit her deepening feelings or risk her heart. “Maybe things will work out. Maybe it’s not as bad as you remember…” She floundered for something concrete to say, but had nothing. “I meant what I said, William. I’ll do what I can to help.” Their hands touched for a second and the current that zipped between them could have powered the whole city.

William smiled. The first real smile she had seen on his face since the accident. “I know you meant it, Jenna. But we can’t fix this on time. It’s too late. There was too much damage.”

Her heart sank. Too late. For what? The church? Them?

William pushed open the door, leaving her no choice but to follow him inside. The room hummed with shop vacs and chatter. Countless volunteers put the final touches on cleaning up the space. Standing in the middle of the organized chaos was William’s dad.

She followed William as he rushed up the stairs. “What’s going on?”

She spun in a slow circle, taking it all in. A smile stretched across her face. “It’s done. It’s all done.”

“Dad. When? How?” William stuttered.

“I heard the 911 call on the radio and came right away. Once Pastor Matt filled me in, I knew you’d need my help. I even called the TV station to have them come and film. You know, the whole small town angle, everyone pitching in to help. Could be great.”

Jenna would’ve laughed at the look of disbelief on William’s face if it wasn’t for the nearby cameras setting up on the far side of the room.

Carmen dropped a hand on William’s shoulder. “We’re family, son. This is what a family does.”

William dragged a hand through his hair. “But you never said anything.”

“Family doesn’t need to say anything. We’re here for you. All of us. How are you feeling?”

Jenna stepped forward, barely containing the hope that surged through her chest. The floor was dry, even the scratch she’d dug into the wood had been buffed smooth. “How can we ever thank you?”

Carmen gathered Jenna into his arms for a quick hug. “Just being here is thanks enough. You’re one special lady, and I pray my lug-head of a son here knows it.”

Red crept up William neck. A wide smile, the most hopeful smile Jenna had seen in a week, took over his features.

“William!” A crew member wearing a t-shirt with the logo from the television station pulled him aside. “Dude, what happened to your face?”

“I’ll give you a minute.” Jenna stepped away to look closer at the repaired scratch.

Her ears perked at the mention of her name. She caught William wildly gesturing at the crew member while sending strange little looks her way. She heard her name again. They were discussing her.

She edged closer.

“For the last time, I said no!” William hissed.

“Come on, man. This is prime time gold.”

“You have no business being here. I called Mr. Foxshire and already withdrew my proposal. I meant it.”

“I have a new contract.” He pulled out a piece of folded paper and waved it in front of William. “All you have to do is sign it and the show is yours. He wants you and Jenna.”

Her heart leapt in her chest. They wanted her to join William on the show? That meant he’d be able to save the farm and she’d be able to pay back the people Parker scammed.

“He’s offering you twice the original salary and a signing bonus that’s more than enough to get the bank off your back. As soon as you sign it, I’ll start filming here tonight. What are you waiting for?”

“I told him Jenna wasn’t part of the deal.” William pushed the papers away.

Her blood turned to ice. The station wanted her, and William would rather lose the show than consider it?

“You’ll never get another chance like this. You’re a fool, man. This is a once in a lifetime chance.” The crewman made a good case.

“And it’s my life.”

The crewman stuffed the contract back into his pocket and stalked toward his waiting crew. He made a quick wrap up motion with his hand. “We’re wasting our time here guys. Let’s go.” His men packed up their equipment and left.

Jenna stepped out of the shadows. “How could you?”

William jumped. “Jenna?”

“You say saving the farm is important. You say family matters more than anything. You say that God will provide. How important is all that if you’re not willing to accept the help needed to do it?” Anger pulsated through her.

“Jenna, you don’t understand—”

“I understand perfectly. I know I messed up with the school floor. I know I messed up with the plumbing. But I can’t believe that you’d rather lose the farm than work with me. I told you that I’d do anything to make this right. Anything.” Her hand snaked up her throat and a choked cry escaped.

“Jenna—”

“How could you turn down the job that could save everything without even asking me? Without letting me help you? Is being around me really that unbearable?”

~*~

She was gone. He dropped his chin to his chest and stifled the urge to cry. To do more than cry. To scream. To slam something. To break something. An urge to expel his pent up frustration surged through his exhausted body with an unrecognizable power.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed. He’d recognize his dad’s aftershave anywhere. He slumped in defeat. “She didn’t even give me the chance to explain.”

“Explain what?”

The hush in the room confirmed what he suspected. Everyone saw Jenna storm out of here. Everyone. She was probably halfway back to the city by now. Running from him and the hurt he caused her. Again.

He wearily turned his worn out body into his father’s embrace. He wished he was still a little boy who believed Dad could fix everything with a hug.

Dad gingerly cupped his chin, like he used to long ago. He rubbed a rough thumb gently over William’s wet and bruised cheeks. “You never told her the station wanted her as co-star, did you?”

William forced his gritty, tired eyes to stay open. He couldn’t see straight, let alone explain all the emotions surging through his dog-tired body…and his face. He felt every heartbeat beat in his cheeks. Throbbing. Pounding. Never giving him a moment’s relief.

And then Jenna’s diagnosis, this possible death sentence pronounced. And that crazy crew man waved a contract in his face and demanded, demanded a decision today. Right on the spot.

“I started to tell her, but we got the call about the flood. I knew that if I told her while she felt guilty, that she would sign the contract. I knew I could manipulate her into giving me everything I thought I wanted. But, somewhere along the line, what I wanted changed. I don’t want her to work with me because she feels guilty. I don’t want guilt or fear to drive any of her decisions. I want whatever she wants.”

“Don’t tell me, tell her.”

“I can’t.” The broken sob that ripped through him hurt far more than his physical injuries. The volunteers respectfully scattered, leaving him alone with his dad.

“You’re exhausted, William. You’re not thinking straight. None of what you said is a reason to turn down the show.” His dad pushed him out an arm’s length and looked right into his eyes. The way he used to when William was young and he was trying to decipher if William was telling the truth.

William blinked. A long, slow blink. “A nurse came in and told Jenna that she tested positive for HTLV, a possible precursor to Leukemia.”

Dad yanked him back into a rough embrace.

William buried his face in his Dad’s shoulder and cried. He cried like he hadn’t cried since his brother died. He cried like he did at his mother’s funeral. He cried like he’d said good-bye to Jenna forever.

His dad’s chest heaved a few times with a shuddering breath. “Does she know that you love her?”

A surge of adrenaline snapped up William’s head.

Dad’s sad smile failed to lighten the moment. “It’s written all over your face, William.”

“How can I work with her everyday knowing she might die? How do I do that without falling more in love? How do I go through the motions wondering if today is the day it develops into cancer?”

“Because it’s what’s best for her, because you love her. You do it because it is the right thing to do. Yes, it will save the farm and fulfill your promise to Paul. But more importantly, it will give Jenna something to live for. If your mother taught me anything it’s that every day is a gift, especially if you can spend it with the people you love, doing something you love.”

William pushed out of his Dad’s hug and walked toward the newly restored stained-glass window.

“I know I should have asked her about the show, Dad. I should have told her right away what they wanted. If I could do it over, I would. I messed up. I’m seeing double, my head is pounding, I can’t think straight, let alone make a good business decision. How could they expect me to sign a contract today? On the heels of everything that’s happened?”

Dad chuckled. “They don’t know the details of today. Why don’t you ask for a day or two, a chance to discuss this with Jenna?”

“Except I’ve burned both bridges tonight.”

“Then I suggest you find another way.”