Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
Six weeks later
Dylan
Doctor says I can stop wearing a sling
Jackson grinned at the text from Dylan. His brother was a trooper, but six weeks in a sling had tested his patience.
Jackson
Great news! Still up for camping?
He worried about that one. He and Dylan had decided to go camping to exorcise the bad memories by making some new good ones. It had sounded great when they’d talked about it. Now that they were doing it, he worried Dylan might have some misgivings.
Dylan
STOP with the mother hen act. You worry too much. It’s all good.
He chuckled. He and Dylan had a new understanding. If something bothered them, they would talk about it.
Jackson read down his list and checked off each item.
Clothes. Extra socks. Toiletries. Snacks. Flashlight…By the time he’d made the list, it’d had over twenty items on it. He’d never realized how much gear he took for a two-day camping trip. But he wanted to make sure he had everything he needed.
He laughed at himself. Until he’d started dating Mia again, he’d never bothered making lists. She’d been a good influence on him in more ways than one.
But this was with Dylan. They hadn’t been camping together in so long, and he wanted this weekend to be special for them. Dylan had been through so much. They both had. He hoped their experience would draw them closer together.
His phone dinged. He picked it up and saw that, as if thinking about her had conjured it, a text had arrived from Mia.
Mia
What time are you going to get Dylan?
He tapped out a quick response.
Jackson
I’m finishing packing now. I’ll be heading out in five minutes.
He set the phone down and closed his duffel bag.
He’d call her once he got into the car. He wouldn’t see her again until Sunday night, maybe even Monday.
That would be the hardest thing about this trip.
Three days without Mia. He didn’t mind sleeping outside.
After the military, sleeping in all kinds of weather, catching his own food, going without electricity for a few days—all of that was easy. It wouldn’t bother him.
But not seeing Mia every day or talking with her on the phone—that would be a trial. In the past six weeks, they’d seen each other almost every day. His buddies at the station had given him some hassle about it, making kissing noises or wolf whistles when they saw him. He didn’t care.
Jackson had his brother back safely, and he was in love with the love of his life. If all worked out, in a few weeks, he’d have custody of Dylan. Judge Fields, to everyone’s shock, had been arrested for his involvement in Blaine’s wicked plot.
And then there was Mia’s job. As soon as the truth had emerged, the school board had quickly reinstated Mia. Jackson had taken her to dinner to celebrate. He still couldn’t believe she was back in his life.
Turning, Jackson looked at the photo on his nightstand. Carol had taken it a couple of weeks ago. He and Mia were sitting on the porch swing, quietly talking, and she’d snuck up and snapped it. It was his favorite. He and Mia gazed at each other, love written all over their faces.
Someday, he hoped to marry her and start a family with her. He wasn’t sure if that would cause any friction with Dylan yet. So far, he seemed pretty cool with everything.
His phone dinged again.
Mia
Have a great time.
She’d added a heart emoji at the end.
He was glad no one could see him grinning like an idiot. He wasn’t embarrassed though. Nope. He was blessed.
Jackson
We will. I’ll call you when I get back on Sunday.
Jackson shoved his phone into his pocket, grabbed his bag and keys, and headed out to his truck. He was right on schedule. Hopefully Dylan would be ready when he arrived.
Dylan liked his new foster parents. Jackson was glad for that.
Still, he felt bad for Cynthia. After her husband’s arrest, she could no longer take in foster children.
Jackson didn’t blame her for what had happened, but at the same time, if she hadn’t ignored so many signs, Dylan and Reggie might have never been taken.
That’s what he’d struggled to forgive. But he was praying for the grace to do so every day.
He’d already been warned that both he and Dylan might have to testify at the trials. Jackson wasn’t looking forward to that, but if it kept those men and their evil off the street, he’d do it, no problem.
Once in his truck, he dialed Mia.
“Jackson! I wasn’t sure if you’d have time to call me before the big weekend or not.”
“I always have time for you.”
“Aww. That’s sweet.”
He chuckled. “I try.”
“Oh! Hey, I’m glad you called. I have news. My mom’s selling her house. Since she hadn’t officially divorced Blaine yet, everything went to her.”
Made sense. “I’m not surprised. I can’t imagine her wanting to live there anymore.”
“She won’t. No good memories. She offered to sell it to me. That was a hard no.”
“It’s got a solid structure.”
“Yes. But I’d feel like I was still living in Blaine’s shadow. No, thank you.”
He didn’t blame her.
“Hey, Mia.” He pulled up in front of the house. Dylan was waiting at the door. “I need to go. I’ve arrived, and my brother is bouncing at the door.”
She chuckled in his ear. “Excited, is he? All right, I’ll see you soon. I’ll pray for you guys to stay safe.”
“I appreciate it.” He never tired of hearing that she was praying. Sharing his faith with her had made their relationship so much stronger and deeper. It had also made his own faith flourish in ways he’d never expected.
She hung up.
“I love you.” He wished he could find a way to say it to her personally. He’d told her he had fallen for her, but he hadn’t said those exact words yet. It had only been a couple of months. He had time. No need to rush.
He got out of the car and walked up the path to the front door, kicking leaves out of his way. The lawn had been raked recently, but the trees still had a brilliant display of red, yellow, and orange leaves. The air was lightly scented with woodsmoke.
Clary Fuller, Dylan’s foster mom, met him at the door.
“Jackson!” Clary smiled at him. “You guys have a good time. I baked some cookies. They’re in Dylan’s bag.”
“Thanks, ma’am.” He sent her a quick text. “I just sent you our camp location if you need us.”
“I appreciate it.”
Jackson grabbed the bag waiting on the ground. Dylan had a backpack as well. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Dylan waved at Clary and darted out the door, his backpack banging against his back. Jackson smiled at his brother. He gave Clary a final nod and followed Dylan.
When he got into the truck, Dylan had his nose in his backpack, searching for something. The cookies sat at his feet, untouched. Jackson turned on the ignition and pulled away from the curb. “What are we going to do with the cookies?”
Dylan groaned. “I don’t know, man. I told her not to worry about it, but she felt she had to send something.”
Jackson made a face. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw Clary was still watching them.
At the corner, he looked back again in time to see her door shut.
Out of the corner of his eye, He saw Dylan sneak a peek at the foster house too.
When Dylan whipped around to face him, Jackson couldn’t hold in his laughter any longer.
Dylan snorted, then hooted until tears rolled down his face.
“Poor Clary,” Jackson choked out. “She tries so hard.”
Dylan wiped his eyes, still laughing. “Jack, have pity on me, not her. I’m the one who has to eat whatever she bakes.”
There was always something wrong with whatever she made.
But she was so sweet and kind that no one would dare hurt her feelings and say anything.
Not her husband or her two sons. Definitely not the foster kids she took in and inflicted her baking on.
Fortunately, she was an adequate, although uninventive, cook, so no one starved.
Jackson parked, then the brothers hiked to the spot they’d picked out and set up their tent. They gathered sticks and created a campfire.
Dylan got out the double-mountain pie maker, which looked like two small rectangular cast-iron pans facing each other on a long stick. Once he put the ingredients in, they could set them on the fire and cook them.
“What kind are you making?” Jackson pointed at the contraption.
“Apple pie. Or do you want cherry?” Dylan lined both halves with a slice of bread. He had cans of cherry and apple pie filling ready to go.
“You choose.” Jackson got out the meat they’d cook over the flames.
“Apple.” Dylan spooned some of the apple filling in and added some brown sugar. He snapped the device closed, locked it, and set it on the fire.
Once they were eating, Jackson cleared his throat. “I got a call today.”
Dylan chewed a bite of his corn on the cob. “Yeah? Who from?”
“The court. We have a new court date. I already asked off for it.”
Dylan froze. “Do you think—”
“I hope. If all goes according to plan, I’ll get custody in three weeks.”
Dylan blinked, his eyes shiny. “Awesome! I can’t wait to finally be able to live in the same house.”
Jackson cleared his throat. “Same here.” He took a deep breath. “I also wanted to talk with you about Mia.”
“You’re not breaking up with her…” Dylan’s voice was strangled.
“What? No! Of course not! I plan on marrying her someday. We’re not engaged or anything. But I will propose eventually. Are you okay with that? I mean, you will be able to live with me forever, as far as I’m concerned. But just know she’ll be there too.”
If she accepted.
Sweat beaded on his upper lip.
Dylan grinned at him, the flames casting shadows on his face. “I can deal with that. I like Mia.”
There was something on his face that told Jackson Dylan wanted to say more. When he didn’t, Jackson let it go. He wouldn’t force him to talk. Dylan would tell him when he was ready.
That night, he closed his eyes and listened to his brother breathing deeply a few feet away. Thank You, Lord. He’d come so close to losing Dylan. He would never take his family for granted.