Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
LEESA
A sharp knock jolts me awake. I sit up too quickly, my heart pounding from the sudden noise, and blink at the room around me. Morning light streams through the curtains, bathing everything in a soft, golden glow. Where am I?
I look at the quilt around me, then run a hand over my face, trying to shake off the grogginess. The bed is unfamiliar, too firm, and a faint smell of pine and wood smoke hangs in the air. My gaze flicks to the rustic dresser against the wall, the heavy wooden beams of the ceiling.
And then it all comes crashing back and tension squeezes my chest.
Derek with the wedding planner, his mouth sealed against hers and his hand under the skirt of her dress as she pushed her body frantically against his. Me fleeing, sobbing as I got in my car and following the road, not caring where it led me. My car breaking down. Jax rescuing me.
Jax.
Another knock. This one is louder, more insistent. “Leesa? You decent?”
The voice is bright, unfamiliar, and startlingly cheerful. I sit frozen for a second, clutching the quilt as my heart pounds in my chest.
“Hold on,” I call out, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
Rubbing my face, I stand, grab the flannel shirt I wore last night, and pull it on. With one last glance at the door, I shuffle over and open it cautiously.
A woman with wild chestnut hair spilling over her shoulders in loose waves stands on the other side. Her beaming smile is bright enough to rival the sunlight filtering into the room—far too much so early in the morning. She has a bulky duffel bag slung over her shoulder.
Of course this is why there are women’s clothes in a spare bedroom—he has a girlfriend . It shouldn’t matter in the slightest, but jealousy claws at me. Not like I want to trust a man or get married again, but…I can’t help the disappointment as I look at the pretty woman holding out a to-go coffee for me.
“Hi! I’m Andrea, Jax’s sister,” she announces with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for long-lost friends. Her tone is warm, unguarded, and her cheerfulness instantly puts me at ease. Like nothing bad could happen in the presence of such good spirits.
“Um, hi?” My voice comes out scratchy as I blink at her, still trying to shake off the haze of sleep. I don’t know what’s happening, but it feels like stepping into a play and forgetting all my lines. I am, however, very conscious of the relief that washes over me when I learn she’s Jax’s sister, not girlfriend.
Andrea doesn’t seem to notice—or mind—that I’m barely coherent. She steps forward like she’s been invited, offering me the coffee cup. “Sorry for barging in, but Jax is at work and said you needed some things. And I figured you might like some company. He said you had an…eventful day yesterday.” She drops the duffel bag on a small table by the window with a soft thud.
I turn, still holding the coffee she thrust into my hands. “You could say that,” I say, wondering how much she knows.
“Jax mentioned you didn’t have anything with you,” Andrea says, smoothing the edge of a plaid shirt. “So I raided my closet. Flannel, jeans, a couple of sweaters—it’s all practical.” She steps back, hands on her hips, clearly pleased with her work.
I stare at the pile, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and embarrassment. “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble—”
“Oh, please,” she interrupts, waving a hand dismissively. “Trust me, it’s no big deal. I’ve got way more clothes than I need. Plus, I had to meet the woman he saved.” Her grin is infectious, and before I can muster another protest, she holds up the clothes in front of me.
Andrea tilts her head and gives me a long look when I don’t immediately say anything. “Let me guess,” she says, her tone dripping with mock seriousness. “Jax didn’t mention me at all, did he?”
I shrug, not sure how to answer without offending her. “He said he had a couple of sisters, but he didn’t say more than that.”
She throws up her hands in exasperation. “Of course he didn’t! That man wouldn’t volunteer information if his life depended on it. Even before the Army, he was never one to say more than was absolutely necessary. Drove me and my sister Olivia nuts. He said we did enough talking for the three of us and didn’t need to say anything because we always did.”
The warmth in her voice softens something in my chest. Andrea’s relentless cheer makes it hard to hold on to my gloom. I would never tell Clara this, but meeting Andrea is like meeting a best friend. She’s vivacious and welcoming, making me feel like I haven’t taken the express train to Hell.
Andrea grabs one of the flannel shirts from the pile she laid out earlier and tosses it my way. “Okay, here’s the deal,” she says, her tone taking on a no-nonsense edge. “We’re getting out of here.”
I catch the shirt, my brow furrowing. “What?”
“You heard me. We’re going to town. You like pie? Tell me you like pie.”
“Pie?” I echo, still trying to catch up with her rapid-fire energy.
She nods, her expression deadly serious. “Pie is the answer to everything. Sad? Pie. Happy? Pie. Confused about your entire life trajectory? Pie. Trust me on this one.”
I hesitate, the idea of stepping out into the world making my chest tighten. “I don’t have any money.” I wince as I tell her about having left my purse behind, but Andrea cuts me off with another wave of her hand.
“That is not a problem. You need real food, and the diner has the best pie this side of the mountain. Plus, small-town charm works wonders for the soul. You’ll see.”
Her determination is relentless, and I realize there’s no point in arguing. She’s not giving me a choice, and honestly, maybe that’s for the best.
“Fine,” I say, pulling on the flannel shirt she handed me. “But if the pie isn’t life-changing, I’m holding you personally responsible.”
Andrea grins, grabbing her keys. “Deal. Now, let’s go. The world—and pie—awaits.”
The diner is a small, cheerful building with sunny yellow walls and a wide front porch. As soon as we step inside, the warm scent of coffee and baked goods wraps around me like a comforting hug.
Andrea walks in like she owns the place. “Morning, May!” she calls out, waving to a waitress balancing a tray of mugs.
“Morning, Andrea,” May replies, her smile wide and knowing. “What can I get you today?”
“Two coffees and a menu,” Andrea says, pointing to a booth by the window. “And save us two slices of pie.”
May nods, already heading for the coffee pot.
The diner is bustling, the low hum of chatter mixing with the clink of dishes. Andrea greets nearly everyone we pass, her energy infectiously bright.
I feel out of place, hyper-aware of the curious glances cast my way, but Andrea’s confidence eases my worry.
She slides into the booth. “Have a seat. And don’t worry about not having your purse. This is on me. We take care of each other here. Besides if my brother had more than crackers and beans to offer you, I’d be shocked.”
At this, I chuckle. “He actually had a great lasagna.”
“Ah, that means our sister is still bringing food to him,” she laughs.
I follow her lead, trying to focus on the cozy atmosphere instead of my nerves. Andrea chats easily with May when she returns, with a familiarity that is clearly built on a lifetime of knowing each other.
Andrea leans back in the booth, her coffee cup cradled in her hands. “You know Jax served in the Army, right?”
I nod, though the details are fuzzy. “He mentioned it briefly. We didn’t talk a lot about him.”
“Yeah, that sounds like him. He never talks about himself unless you pry.” Andrea’s gaze softens, pride and something deeper flickering in her expression. “He was a leader, even back when we were kids. You’d never guess he’s a middle child. He’s always been the one you call when everything’s falling apart.”
I stare at her, unsure how to respond. It’s hard to reconcile the quiet, gruff man I met with the picture that Andrea’s painting. Jax has an air of authority but seems more closed off than you’d expect a leader to be.
Andrea’s grin returns, teasing this time. “And now you’re staying in his cabin. Pretty convenient, huh?”
I immediately catch her meaning and laugh despite myself. “Hold on now. I just ran away from my fiancé. A man is the last thing I want or need right now.”
Her eyes twinkle with mischief. “Sure, sure. But I’ve got to say, you could do worse than my brother. Something to think about.”
“Noted. I’ll take that under consideration if I lose my mind and decide to risk my heart again,” I reply dryly, but the easy banter feels good.
“Okay,” Andrea says, leaning forward and dropping her voice like she’s about to reveal a state secret. “Here’s what I think you need: a distraction.”
I tilt my head, skeptical. “A distraction?”
“Yep. Something fun. Like...the outdoor movie nights we put on. We’re starting the summer series in a few nights, and it’s a blast. You have to come and volunteer with me—I won’t take no for an answer.”
I blink at her, caught completely off guard. “Outdoor movie?”
“Why not?” Andrea shrugs, then grins. “Before you say no, hear me out. It’s not some fancy film festival or anything—it’s super low-key. Everyone lounges on blankets under the stars. It’s a fun group of people, and it might help get your mind off things.”
“I don’t know...” I trail off, unsure how to explain that being around people feels like the last thing I want right now.
Andrea waves a hand dismissively. “Trust me, it’s therapeutic. And you’ll meet people. Maybe we can convince you to stay.”
I hesitate, her enthusiasm almost convincing me. “You’re selling this hard.”
“Because I know you’ll love it.” Her grin turns sly. “And because I’ve already told the others you might show up.”
“You what?” I gape at her.
She laughs unapologetically. “Relax. No one’s expecting you to become the event coordinator. Just come once. If you hate it, you can blame me forever.”
I shake my head, trying to come up with a reason to say no, but Andrea’s unwavering grin makes it impossible. “I’m not feeling sociable right now.”
Andrea scoffs at my protests. “Outdoor movie night is about relaxing and enjoying a movie. That’s really all it is. Parents let their kids run around. It’s totally low-key, I promise.”
Her confidence is infectious, and before I can stop myself, I ask, “What exactly would I be doing? Hypothetically.”
“Just help me out with the concessions,” she says breezily. “If you can count back change and keep the kids from stealing candy, you’ll be perfect. And I know you’re perfect.”
I lean back in my seat, crossing my arms. “And if I absolutely hate it?”
“Then we’ll quit together.” She raises her coffee cup in a mock toast. “But you won’t. I promise.”
Her certainty makes me laugh softly. “Fine. I’ll give it a shot. But if it’s awful, you owe me pie.”
“Deal!” She beams at me.
An unexpected flicker of something resembling hope warms me. Like there’s a world beyond my heartbreak worth spending time in. I don’t know where I thought I’d end up when I fled the church and my ex, but where I’ve landed is so much better and more supportive than I ever imagined. A part of me wishes this was more than a temporary location for me. Do I even want to go back home? I can’t imagine what it would be like, now that I walked away from my engagement. Would people look at me with pity? Or would they blame me for walking out?
The drive back to the cabin is quiet, the crisp mountain air streaming through the open windows. Andrea hums along to the radio, her fingers tapping the steering wheel in time with the music.
I stare out as we climb the road up the mountain and realize the heaviness sitting on my chest is lighter somehow. Not gone, but easier to carry.
Andrea glances at me as she pulls into the driveway. “See? I told you pie fixes everything.”
I laugh, unbuckling my seatbelt. “I think it was more your company than the pie.”
“Thank you,” she says with a wink. “But don’t tell Jax I’m your new best friend, or he’ll find a way to keep us apart.”
We climb out of the car, the cabin’s wooden porch creaking under our feet. Andrea pauses at the door, her expression turning uncharacteristically serious. “Hey, thanks for letting me drag you out today. I know it probably wasn’t easy.”
I smile, a genuine one this time. “Thanks for insisting. You’ve lifted my spirits more than I imagined possible. I owe you, Andrea. Thank you.”
She grins. “Anytime. Now, go inside and relax. I’ll see you for movie night.”
As she drives off, I linger on the porch for a moment, breathing in the cold, clean air. I don’t know what I thought life as a runaway bride would be, but it sure wasn’t this.
But I like it.