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Chapter Twelve
Jackson absently ran his fingers along Blaze’s auburn fur, the dog’s big head resting in his lap as the two of them sat on the couch. The TV was on, but Jackson couldn’t tell you what the hell he was watching with his furry friend. His head was back in that hospital waiting room, hearing Isabel utter the words we can’t. He knew where the rest of that sentence had been going and he wasn’t having any of that.
“We can,” he told Blaze, the dog’s huge ears twitching at the sound of Jackson’s voice. “We can and we should.” Because when two people came together the way he and Isabel had—both as teenagers and again as adults—you didn’t toss that aside. Jackson had seen the love each of his brothers had recently found. What he and Isabel shared was as powerful, maybe more so. Being in her presence made him feel complete. It offered him balance. He’d thrown too much of himself into archaeology, but reconnecting with Isabel had reminded him there was more to life than work.
Being back in Maplehaven had changed him too. Spending time with his brothers reminded him of what a fantastic family he had. So many people had no one and here he was on dig after dig, staying away from some of the most fabulous people on the planet. Sure, he’d achieved some great things in his career, but what did any of those mean if he had no one to celebrate with? His brothers had always told him how proud of him they were, but those congratulations received via email, text message, or hurried phone call weren’t the same as being with his family in person. Celebrating with colleagues had always been fun, but there was no substitute for Christian, Landon, and Donovan. Jackson loved his brothers and goddammit, he’d missed being with them.
“But I’m in control here,” he said, Blaze lifting his head and angling at Jackson. “Yeah, that’s right, buddy. I say where I go and right now, I’ve got woods right here, potentially ripe with artifacts.” That could keep him local for an extended period of time and after that?
Well, after that, he’d figure it out. He’d make a plan that allowed him to spend more time with his family... and Isabel.
Of course he’d need to talk this over with her, find out what she was willing to do in order for them to make it work between them. She had her dreams too, although she had said she’d included more northern locations for her resort on her list. Before tonight, she’d been considering being more local so he could only imagine with Eugene being hospitalized that would be even more important to her.
“We’ll figure it out, right, Blaze?”
The dog let out a short bark at hearing his name, his tail doing one heavy flop on the couch cushion.
“You’ll help me, won’t you?”
A few more excited barks sounded and Blaze hopped off the couch. The dog grabbed an orange ball Jackson had brought over when he’d picked up the pooch from the cottage next door.
“Oh, you want to play?”
Blaze turned in a circle several times, his front legs doing this little bouncy step that made Jackson laugh.
“You have to give me the ball.” He held out his hand and Blaze trotted over. He pushed the ball into Jackson’s palm, but wouldn’t let it go. Every time Jackson curled his fingers around the ball, Blaze turned his head away so the ball, slick with saliva, would slip out of Jackson’s grip. “I can’t play if you don’t give the ball to me, pooch.”
Jackson tapped the dog’s hindquarters with his toe and Blaze loosened his hold on the ball enough for Jackson to snatch it.
“Ha! Tricked you.” Jackson jumped to his feet and passed the ball from hand to hand.
Blaze’s yellow-green gaze tracked the ball’s arc as if he were hunting prey. He charged forward and Jackson took off at a run around the small living room. He circled the perimeter, Blaze on his heels until both of them were breathing hard.
Finally, he tossed the ball into the air and the dog caught it in his mouth. Of course Blaze wanted to continue the sequence so Jackson obliged until he’d worked up an actual sweat.
“Okay, pup,” he said as he plopped back on the couch. “I’m spent.”
Blaze conceded and lowered to his belly on the floor in front of the TV. He rolled to his back and used his paws to lift the ball from his jaws. He held it aloft, considered it for a few seconds, then let the ball drop back into his mouth with a wet snap.
Jackson chuckled. “You’re a funny critter. I see why your mama loves you.”
But did Blaze’s mama love Jackson? He knew he’d only reconnected with Isabel a few days ago, but everything Jackson had felt for her when they’d been teens was right there. At the surface. Waiting to spill over. He’d loved her when they were kids and he loved her now. Judging by the way she made love to him, Isabel had some strong feelings for him too.
This thing with Eugene tonight had made her feel guilty about those feelings, but she’d be able to see reason once her grandfather was back home. Jackson could also try not to steal her away so much. He’d just been so thrilled to be with her again. He hadn’t been able to resist her, but he would be more considerate now. Perhaps while he was staying at the cottages, he could lend a hand to Isabel and Eugene. That way he could still see Isabel, but neither of them would have to feel guilty about that time together.
Liking these plans, Jackson pulled his computer onto his lap. He was too wired to go to bed and he had no idea when Isabel might come by to retrieve Blaze, so he’d use the time to do more research about the artifacts he’d found in the woods. Before he could get started, however, his phone buzzed on the coffee table. He picked it up to see Donovan’s name on the screen.
“Hey,” Jackson said.
“I know it’s late, but I was working on a case that took me to the hospital. Heard Isabel’s grandfather had been brought in. Is everything okay?” Donovan asked.
Reminded how wonderful it was to be close to this kind of care and concern, Jackson said, “I think so. I left Isabel with Charlie at the hospital so I could tend to Blaze, Isabel’s dog.” Isabel and Charlie had basically dismissed him, but Donovan didn’t need to know that. “I haven’t heard any word yet, but the doctor who came out to the waiting room hadn’t seemed overly concerned.”
“Most likely a case of stubborn old Vermont guy,” Donovan said.
“That’s my diagnosis too. Eugene isn’t the type to sit still, heart attack or not.”
“Okay. Let us know if we can do anything,” Donovan said. “I also cleared a path to Uncle Patrick’s boxes of books in my basement so you can get to them.”
