A Discovery of Hope (A Coming Home Again Novel Book 3) (21 page)

“You look absolutely nothing like JP and Julia,” I blurt out as I seem to do anymore. They both laugh and there I catch a resemblance of some sort, maybe in the set of their mouths.

“Savannah belongs to the mailman,” JP explains, and of course I don’t believe him. She whacks him in the gut.

I point to the little guy clinging to her leg. “Now, that one definitely belongs to you.”

She laughs as she scoops him up and places him on her thin hip. She’s a few inches taller than me, so she also has that in common with her siblings, but I think that is the extent of the resemblances.

JP presents his fist to the little guy and the little guy fists bumps it with his tiny one. “Yo, Bradley. I want you to meet my good friend Willow.”

The little guy with his mop of chocolate colored curls smiles and says, “Yo.” He presents his tiny fist to me so I follow suit. All the other kids are running around along the inlet bank, not paying us any mind.

Savannah hollers at one of them. “Sammy, get your butt over here.”

A boy I think is around the age of twelve or so looks up and drops the stick he was digging in the mud with before walking over to us. He has a head full of shaggy dark-brown hair and looks vaguely familiar. “Hey,” he says to me.

“Hello,” I say, offering him a smile.

Savannah drapes her arm over his shoulder, and he leans into her affectionately. “This is my son, Hair-too-Long. We also call him Sammy on occasion.” She ruffles his hair. “He refuses to let me cut it. You already know his older brother. We call him Hair-too-Bright.”

And in this moment a puzzle piece falls into place. Duke is Savannah’s adopted son. Which means JP is his uncle. Well… Things are starting to make better sense.

I look at JP and cross my arms. “You and Duke really stink at filling someone in on something.”

Savannah laughs as Bradley scurries away with Sammy. “You didn’t know?”

“Nope. Those two don’t understand how to share details. I think they’ve made it a game of keeping me in the dark.”

JP pulls me close and plants a playful kiss on my forehead, and I notice Savannah grinning even wider with this. “Your face was just priceless. Wish I had captured it with my camera.”

I try shoving him off, but he’s not having it.

“Don’t take it personal. Duke plays his cards close to his chest.” Savannah looks out towards the children and reminds me of a mother hen watching after her baby chicks. “He’s been through a lot.”

JP explains, “Savannah got wind several years ago about the boys practically living on their own. Their parents died and their uncle was trying to care for them, but he's a truck driver and not home much. Duke was raising Sammy pretty much by himself. My stubborn sister wasn’t having it so she and her husband adopted them.”

“Poor Duke missed out on being a kid. He even got behind a few years in school while trying to tend to Sammy and get him to school. Once they were with us, I encouraged Duke to just be a kid. I even let him hang out with JP, hoping some reckless boyness would rub off on him. It worked, too. As soon as they were settled in with us, he took to expressing himself.” She smiles fondly. “Next thing I know he comes home with bright purple hair. He didn’t dabble with the tattoos and piercings until he turned eighteen. I don’t mind it though. It makes Duke
Duke
and I’m just glad he gets to be himself.” There’s no way she’s much past thirty, but she sounds so wise and motherly. I’m so thankful Duke has her.

We spend a while at the restaurant, having lunch with the sweetest lady I have ever met, Miss May. It’s obvious JP and Savannah adore her. And boy does she know how to make a crab cake. We sit on the back porch of the restaurant eating leisurely as we watch the Creek Kids, as Savannah calls them, scurry around. Every so often she’ll sass something to them and they sass right back at her. It’s quite amusing. She acts as though she doesn’t care for them, but it’s clear she adores them.

Once JP and I are loaded back up in the Jeep, I work up enough nerve to ask him something I’ve wondered about the entire afternoon. I place my hand on his arm before he shifts the Jeep into gear. “Will you please take me to the field?” I have such a strong need to visit it.

Without a word, he nods his head somberly before pulling onto the road. Moments later, he is parking on the edge of a dirt road and tossing his sunshades onto the dash. We exit the Jeep and begin a slow walk down the road, saying nothing. I feel like whatever this is, it’s momentous for him to share it with me. I decide to let him lead us in the direction we are about to take, both figuratively as well as quite literally. With my hand securely in his, JP pulls me along until we reach a dark dirt field. It’s plotted out in neat rows, but not planted that I can tell. No weeds and no stones are in sight. The area surrounding it is well groomed as well. It’s apparent lots of care is put in the upkeep.

JP doesn’t stop at the edge of the field as I had suspected. He keeps walking us deeper into the right area of the field before coming to a stop. There’s no evident marker, but I’m guessing by the storm in his eyes one is not needed. Letting go of my hand, he squats down and runs his hands in the loose soil.

“My nephew is named after my cousin, Bradley. He was more like a brother to me. Lived with my family most of his life, actually. We shared everything, even a bedroom.” A sad smile forms around the edges of his mouth. I sit on the edge of the mounded row behind us and say nothing as I wait for him to continue. JP follows suit and rests his arms on his drawn knees.

Waiting, I listen to the birds singing out from the trees lining the field. This place is very secluded with no homes or buildings around. The sun is high in the afternoon sky and I know it will begin slouching shortly.

Clearing his throat, he finally continues. “Me and Bradley… We did everything together and were always getting into mischief. And we were always getting hurt. One time we had the wild idea that Bradley could hoist me up the side of our two story house with a rope that we slung into the large oak tree in the yard while I scaled the side. Like a pulley system, you know. I nailed it too, all Spiderman style.” He glances over at me and I nod my head in understanding. I also convey with the nod that I know he’s telling the truth. There’s a different edge to this than his tall-tales that I’m starting to pick up on.

“Dude accidently let go of the rope as I was near the roof. I fell and ended up with a broken wrist and a cut over my eye.” He leans towards me as he points to the faint scar over his right eyebrow. “Man, was he sick with guilt. I was the one with the cast and the stitches, but I know for certain, Bradley hurt worse than I did. We were like that. Always hurting worse when the other hurt.” Tears begin to pool in his eyes, then plummet down his face and through the blond stubble along his jaw.

“JP—”

“I took the blame that day, saying I had too much manly muscle for him to hang onto.” He chuckles with no amusement.

I’m not sure what took place in this field, but I do understand Bradley undoubtedly lost his life due to it, and JP feels it’s his fault. “Don’t you think he would feel the same about this accident if he could tell you?”

JP shakes his head. “It was a stupid accident. One that haunts me.” He cups his hands together for me to see, resembling the photo of his palms. “I have his blood permanently stained on my hands.”

“You said it, JP. It was an accident.” I place my hands in the midst of his and he instantly surrounds them with his long fingers.

“I thought I had finally gotten a handle on it a few years ago. I begged God to take it from me, and I’m fairly certain He did. The nightmares subsided and I felt like I was finally able to live. Then last year I witnessed another tragedy, and it all came back with a vengeance. I’m right back to fighting with the nightmares and guilt.” He releases my hands as his composure crumbles, like the weight of the guilt is too much to bear.

Sobs tear loose from his chest in agonizing wails. The throb of my own emotions is overwhelming and I can barely swallow from witnessing him in such acute agony. I’ve never seen another human in this much pain. With JP being such a strong man, it devastates me that much more. I don’t know what overtakes me, but I have a crushing desire to pull him out of this misery that has rendered him completely broken.

I don’t think, just act.

In a flash, I’m kneeling in front of him and am pulling his shirt over his head. This seems to awaken him from his state a bit, but not much. I can’t take it any longer, so I lunge forward and bite down on his shoulder with all my might until I feel the odd give of his skin under the attack of my teeth. I feel him flinch away from my mouth in surprise and pain.

The sound of him sobbing cuts off immediately, as though the bite snapped him out of the nightmare. There’s no doubting he was sitting here reliving the entire tragedy again.

“Willow,” he grunts out as he gently pulls me back and holds me slightly away from him. His blue eyes are wide with shock and confusion over my action.

“Life inflicts pain, JP. You have to let the scar of it heal so you can move on.” I touch my fingertips to the angry bite-mark indenting his skin. Small red dots of blood are faintly seeping from the wound. “Although life inflicts pain, it can also heal, if you allow it… Love can heal you.” I lean cautiously forward and place gentle kisses over the bite-mark. This seems to release a whole new round of sobs from him.

Before I can blink, he has me pinned to the dirt in his strong grasp and is abruptly attacking me with frantic kisses. The kisses feel desperate and afraid just as they did that night I comforted him after his nightmare. Teeth are colliding and we are clawing at each other in such a visceral state. It’s a raw assault of love and comfort, and I find myself sobbing right along with him.

We roll around, me on top, him back on top as we consume each other. His hands try tugging at my shirt a few times, but I bat them away. The kissing continues until he tries for the zipper of my shorts. Again, I bat his hand away. Eventually he buries his hands deep in the soil while he kisses me, I guess to help stop them from roaming. With the rawness of this moment, I know I have to keep it in check so that we don’t take things too far. I feel wild with the need to care for him… To protect him from his pain, but have enough wits to keep us in control.

It’s odd how this man’s weakness and need makes me stronger and protective over him.

With bodies trembling, we clutch each other closer as we continue the wild assault. I yank my hands through his hair aggressively, releasing a growl from his lips. It feels as though we are wrestling with some inner war with both of us winning in some aspects as well as losing. It scares me yet exhilarates me all the same. Uncontrollable sobs, loud ravenous kisses, and moans ricochet around us as the world fades for a spell, leaving just me and this broken man—revealing bitter scars and urging them to finally heal.

A cloud of thick dust kicks up and billows around us as we struggle with all these fervent emotions. Never have I had such acute sensations of anger and desire and pure love battling together. They all slam into me at once in vicious tremors and sear a fever along my skin.

No words are exchanged, only the exhibition through touch is needed. I feel possessed, knowing I’m close to teetering right off this flimsy edge of control I’m desperately holding on to. I push him away when my desires become overwhelming, only to pull him back once I catch my breath.

This tug-of-war continues until JP seems to not be able to take it any longer and pushes away from me. As soon as his lips are ripped away from mine, I miss him and feel an instant void. He scoots over a row from me and buries his face in his dirt-stained hands that are propped on his knees.

The only sound echoing around the field is our frantic breaths. I keep my distance and try to calm myself as I watch him closely. Licking over my tender lips, I feel bruised and exposed and completely alive from it. I want to scream at the top of my lungs from all of the feelings rippling through me.

Eventually, our breathing returns to normal and JP pulls his shirt back on. As we stand, I notice we are both covered in the black soil. His face is masked with it except for the thin lines his tears have tracked down his cheeks. I try brushing the dirt off my arms, but it’s clinging to my skin for dear life. We are definitely a sight.

JP clears his throat a few times as though he wants to say something, but seems to give up trying. Instead, he gathers my hand in his. With one last glance at the spot we just wallowed in, JP walks us back down the dirt road.

Well… At least I have given him a new memory with the field. I’m not so sure if it was a better one, but at least it’s a different one than he had. I saw the fire in his eyes as he looked in our spot and not the other area of the field—and that has to be something.

As we reach the Jeep, Duke pulls up in his truck. He rolls the dark tinted window down and stares at us in surprise. “What in the heck happened to the two of you?”

Without pause, JP launches into an elaborate story. He keeps his red swollen eyes averted from Duke’s worried ones as he says, “These punks just jumped out of nowhere.” He looks over to the thick patch of trees by the road and motions in that direction. “Came rushing out of the woods while we were taking a walk. They roughed us up a bit… Tried stealing my wallet…” JP points at me. “Willow here went all mad psycho chick on their a—.”