Chapter Eleven #3
“It serves the bastard right. They’ll knock him around when he acts stupid again. And I’m sure it’ll happen soon.”
Caroline picked at the food, trying the homemade pickles and peppers.
The newlyweds rose as guests finished their dinner.
Garrett pulled Riley close as they walked onto the dance floor.
A slow song played, and he tenderly kissed his new bride.
The scene seemed so intimate, Caroline glanced away, feeling like she was intruding.
When the song ended, they invited everyone to join them.
“Do you want to dance?” Jameson asked quietly.
His hand tugged her to stand, and he led her to the dance floor. Jameson wrapped his arm around her and swayed with her cheek to cheek. His scruff scratched against her tender skin, but she didn’t care. His leather scent pulled her back in, making her feel safe and cared for.
Her head lay against his shoulder, and she listened to the familiar sound of his heartbeat, making her relax. Her body drifted closer to his, and his hold on her tightened. “I like your haircut. It really flatters you.”
“Thank you. I can’t take the credit. Rachel told him what she wanted done. She’s like a hurricane.”
Jameson chuckled. “I know.”
The song came to an end, and he stepped back, appearing to feel as affected as her.
They walked off, and instead of returning to the table, Jameson stopped her.
“Do you mind if we leave?” he asked. “I’ve completed all my duties.”
Anticipation filled her as he took her to his truck and helped her inside. Jameson drove down the country road, crossing over the ranch land. He pulled into the driveway of cabin number four.
Jameson turned off the engine and walked around to help Caroline out of the truck. As always, the electric jolt he got every time he touched her ran down his spine. He spied the multiple lights she left on inside the cabin and wisely didn’t say anything as they walked up the porch.
“Have you met the other women?” he asked as she punched in the security code.
“Yes, they’re very nice. I’ve made friends, take my meds, go to bed on time, and eat my fruits and vegetables,” she said, saucily.
“I only asked because it’s important to have friends who can support you,” he said, entering the living room.
Caroline leaned against the door. “I don’t get you, Jameson. I think I knew you better when Cain held me against my will.”
“You’re lucky. Sometimes, I don’t know myself at all,” he confessed, watching her.
“Maybe you’re the one who needs therapy,” she said, making him smile.
“I’m afraid I might send them running,” he joked.
“May I get you something to drink?” she asked, crossing the room. “I have water and orange juice.”
“I don’t need anything,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Really?” she asked. “I never told you what cabin I’m staying in, yet you knew exactly where to go.”
Jameson scratched the scruff along his jaw, feeling the pressure mount.
“Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m washing my hair,” she said, getting irritated with him.
“If you can postpone it for a day, I have someone I want you to meet,” he said carefully.
“Who? Another counselor? Do you want me to make another friend?” she insisted.
Jameson sighed. “Do you have something you want to say to me?”
“What’s the matter with you? Ever since you brought me here, you’ve acted strangely.
One minute, I think you like me, and then the next, you barely want to speak with me.
” Tears gathered in her eyes, and she angrily swiped them away.
“It’s bad enough everywhere I go, I’m reminded of my time with Cain.
‘It’s time for therapy, Caroline. We’re meeting for group sessions, and you must integrate yourself into society. ’”
Slowly, Jameson walked toward her. His gut churned as she became more animated.
“I promised to come for you, Caroline. As soon as I find you, I’ll dump you at the doorstep and leave without warning. I don’t understand,” she said, hitting him on the chest. “Did I do something wrong? What did I do to make you stop liking me?”
He grasped her hands and held her close. “You haven’t done anything,” he insisted. “It’s me, Caroline.”
She yanked away from his hold. “I’m not good enough for you, is that it? You can’t look at me without wondering how many men I’ve slept with. What I’ve done with them,” she shouted. “Why did you pretend to like me?”
“I didn’t, Caroline, you don’t understand. Hopefully, tomorrow you will.”
“What? Will there suddenly be an epiphany?” she cried.
“No,” he said quietly. “Have I ever broken my promise to you?” he asked.
“Please leave, Jameson. I don’t know what I imagined, but this wasn’t it,” she whispered.
“Fine. Freshen up your makeup. I’m taking you someplace, and you’ll want to go,” he said, keeping his voice tight. He pulled out his phone and waited for Mr. Bates to answer.
“Jameson. I didn’t expect to hear from you until tomorrow. Did something happen to Caroline?”
“I’m bringing her this evening. We’re about forty minutes away,” he told Thomas.
“I’ll be waiting. Thank you, son,” he said before hanging up.
Caroline went into her bedroom and returned wearing jeans, a lacy tank top, and a jean jacket. Her hair loosened from the updo, creating ringlets around her face. Her big, blue eyes held a stormy expression as she peered at him expectantly.
He helped her inside the truck and drove off the ranch. His heart clenched as she folded her hands in her lap.
“Whatever happens tonight, I wish you the best. I’m sorry I should’ve come to see you. Hopefully, tonight will answer your questions,” he said, glancing at her.
“You might’ve told me to my face. I’m one of the survivors you saved. You felt obligated to me because I helped you with the information concerning Rebecca,” she accused.
“It’s not true. Don’t put words into my mouth, spitfire. Give me another ten minutes, and you’ll understand part of the reason why I didn’t come see you.”
She gazed out at the lights as they passed by a gas station and pulled up to the curb of a white house with a wide porch. A wheelchair ramp set off to the side.
“Who lives here?” she asked slowly.
“When you told me the story about James Stanton, I did a little research. Last week, I discovered you only knew part of the truth,” he said, taking her hand.
“The day James took you from your home, your parents survived. Unfortunately, your mom passed away five years ago, still searching for you. Anna still held onto hope you’d find your way home. ”
“Who lives here?” she asked again, turning to stare at the house.
“Your dad survived. He’s bound to a wheelchair, but he’s waiting inside for you,” he said softly.
“Don’t do this to me, Jameson,” she whispered. “Please don’t lie to me.”
Jameson walked around the truck and pulled her out. She fought him to the door, still believing he played some cruel joke.
The door opened, and Nancy greeted them. “Hello, Jameson. Thomas is waiting in the living room. Welcome home, Caroline,” she said warmly.
Her grip on his hand tightened as he led her down the hall and turned to the left. She halted in the doorway.
“Honeybee?” Thomas cried.
“Dad? Is it really you?” she cried, launching herself toward Thomas.
She dropped to the ground as they clung to each other, crying.
Nancy stood beside Jameson, wiping her own tears.
Jameson swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing he had given her a gift she never expected.
When he took her home, Caroline would finally discover the truth.
And she’d hate him, like everyone else who discovered he was James Stanton’s son.