Four

“U ncle Jax.”

“Hmm?”

“Why was that lady so mad?”

As he maneuvered his truck down the back road to his place, that lady Mario referenced fully occupied Jaxson’s thoughts. They had to have met before. She felt so familiar. He was 99 percent certain she was about to enlighten him with the hows and whys before Mario interrupted.

“Why, Uncle Jax?”

“I don’t know, buddy.” Jaxson shrugged his shoulders as though it was no big deal, though he’d be lying to himself to say her attitude hadn’t throw him off. While no longer the cocky, even arrogant football star who’d ridden the waves of success from high school, through college and into the pros, Jaxson knew he was a good-looking man, one who usually didn’t have to work to win over a woman. Not that he cared how Genesis felt about him, or any woman, for that matter. years had helped to heal the wounds of being betrayed and barely avoiding a national scandal, but Jaxson guarded his emotions like he used to guard players carrying the ball.

“Was Mr. Cyrus her grandpa?” Mario asked. Jaxson hadn’t been the only who’d noticed and been affected by Genesis’s rude behavior.

“That’s a good question.”

Jaxson thought back to the day before. Her countenance had seemed melancholy when she reached the table, before noticing him brought on a different kind of expression. She could have been the daughter of one of Cyrus’s sons, but Jaxson didn’t think so. Nipsey knew who she was, so she wasn’t a stranger. Something told him this woman’s roots grew somewhere in Tennessee.

“Maybe she’s sad Mr. Cyrus died.”

“You’re probably right.”

His nephew was silent for a moment, and then, “Hey, I know! Maybe we can buy her some flowers! When Daddy gets them for Mommy it always makes her smile.”

Jaxson thought of his rascal of a brother-in-law and could just about imagine the reasons for coming home bearing gifts, and how often. His sister, nieces and nephew seemed happy, so he decided to stay out of their household affairs. Given his own track record, and the problems he had with his daughter Jazz’s mom, he was the last person to give relationship advice.

They pulled into the driveway. The rain, light when they’d headed to Cyrus’s house, was now a flat-out downpour. His mind immediately went to Genesis. Hopefully she’d use common sense and not try to drive around out here. With all of the rocks, large roots, holes and partially buried tree trunks dotting the landscape, navigating the area as a novice in anything less than a pickup like the one he owned, or an ATV, was an accident waiting to happen. Oh, well. Wasn’t his problem. The only thing still niggling him was how they knew each other.

After fixing grilled cheese sandwiches served with large glasses of chocolate milk, he watched Mario settle in front of a large screen in what had been turned into a game room. Then Jaxson retreated to a quieter part of the house. As was habitual with a majority of the population, he pulled out his cell phone and began scrolling his social media sites. He’d just taken his last bite of the sandwich when the phone rang in his hand.

“What’s up, Susan?”

Susan was a former classmate who’d chased him in high school. Once back in Holy Mound, he’d allowed her to catch him. He’d known her since they were fourteen and came as close to trusting her as he could anyone. She agreed to his ground rules, and he respected hers. Theirs was a casual, uncomplicated arrangement that worked for both of them.

“I saw your neighbor Hazel at church this morning. She told me about Cyrus. My condolences.”

“Thanks, Susan. I appreciate that.”

“I know how close everyone is in the valley, and how you support one another.”

Jaxson reached for his dishes and walked into the kitchen. “He’ll be missed.”

“I heard his sons are in town. Somebody saw them at Holy Moly, along with their cousin Genny. You remember her, right?”

A jolt shot through Jaxson’s body. Only quick reflexes kept the glass he balanced on top of a plate from falling and shattering on the floor.

Genesis was Genny. That Genny? Jaxson’s heart rate increased. No way.

“What’s her last name?”

“Hunter! Hank Hunter’s sister. I know you remember him.”

Hank Hunter. A name he’d never forget. The high school all-star running back for the Memphis Mustangs. Ten-year-old memories rushed back to the surface. A crowded, rowdy party. Gorgeous brown eyes staring from across the room. Smiling. Flirting. Dancing, and then...caresses, kisses, making love. It was her. Genesis was Genny! She’d lost weight. Her hairstyle was different. And hadn’t she worn glasses? She’d felt familiar. But their encounter had happened so long ago. There’d been hundreds of others since then. Still, that night had been special. He should have recognized her. She damn sure knew him. The attitude. Her anger. Now everything made sense.

“Susan, I’ve got to let you go. There’s something I need to do.”

A rumble of thunder drew his attention to the window. Rain pounded the dirt with flashes of lightning zigging and zagging across the sky. He doubted Genesis would still be at Cyrus’s place. If she lived in Memphis and had any sense, she was probably halfway home.

Jaxson’s cell phone vibrated. His neighbor Granville. He and his wife, Hazel, lived on a small hilltop piece of property overlooking the valley. Folk jokingly called them “Mr. and Mrs. Mayor.” Little got past them from their eagle-eye perch. Sometimes that was a blessing. At other times, a curse.

“Morning, Granville. You order up this storm?”

“No, and I sure as hell hoped you weren’t the fool down there who tried to drive that back road in it.”

This comment got Jaxson’s attention. “Is it a white SUV?”

“Sure is. Got stuck, from what I can tell, and tried to force the car forward. Only dug deeper ruts, of course. That’s what they get for trespassing, is what I say.”

“Shit.”

“Do you know ’em?”

“I think so, a woman named Genesis. Ran into her at Cyrus’s place when I went to feed the dog.”

“Well, she ain’t there no more. Looks like she was heading to the pond. You know how easily that area washes out in storms like this. Probably hit a rut, or rock, or worse. Do I need to ready my tractor?”

Jaxson shook his head, already on the porch replacing his well-worn cowboy boots with the rubber fishing boots by the door. He reached for a heavy raincoat and his leather cowboy hat. “My truck can likely pull it out. If not, I’ll call you.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. Miss Hazel can do me a favor if she’s home.”

“Shoot.”

“My nephew Mario is here. Do you think she can watch him while I see what’s going on?”

“Only if he’ll help her bake some oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.”

“I don’t think I’ll have to twist his arm.”

Jaxson pushed away worry as he stopped by the spare bedroom turned game room and peeped in. “Come on, little man. We’re going to see the McCormicks.”

“I’m playing a game!”

“Okay, but Miss Hazel needs help baking cookies. Are you up to it?”

Mario’s frown instantly flipped into a big smile. “Yes!”

Just like Jazz, Jaxson thought. Sweets were the best negotiator. He loved spending time with his nephew, but being around Mario was a constant reminder of how much he missed his daughter.

Soon after getting the call, Jaxson was down the hill and on the back roadway, his heavy, all-terrain tires fighting the deep, muddy ruts and easily winning the battle. Rain pelted the windshield. He flipped the wipers to the highest speed, trying to remain calm while searching for white metal. He drove like a man on a mission, a knight in drenched armor, the fantastic steed replaced by an all-wheel-drive truck. He doubted this chivalrous act would make up for forgetting a woman you’d slept with, but at the moment it was the best he could do.

A half mile from his house and around a bend, he spotted flashing hazard lights. Sprays of mud decorated the once-white Kia’s back half where Jaxson imagined Genesis vainly spun the wheels to get free. Even with the recent revelation, he couldn’t help the smirk that appeared at the thought of her being rescued by someone she obviously disliked. Pulling down his brim, he got out of the car and carefully made his way to the passenger door. A blast of thunder sounded overhead. He shielded himself from the watery onslaught as bolts of lightning danced across the sky.

‘Genesis!” Jaxson pulled on the driver’s-side door.

It was locked. He peeked inside. Where was she? He called her name again, rounding the car to check all the doors and confirm the car was empty. This development was totally unexpected. Cockiness gave way to true concern. Where could she have gone?

“Genesis!”

Jaxson swung around and scanned the horizon. The rain fell steadily, thick and unrelenting. He cupped his hands against the elements and walked toward the rut of a road.

“Genesis!”

Instead of Genesis, Nipsey responded. He bounded through a patch of overgrown grass and came straight to Jaxson, barking excitedly.

“Where is she?”

The dog ran back toward the tall grass, still barking. He ran up to Jaxson, then back to the grass—body shaking, tail wagging, barking more furiously—his entire body transmitting the message “Hurry up and come on!”

Jaxson headed toward the grass. “Come on, buddy. Where is she?”

Jaxson caught a glimpse of white fabric just beyond the patch of overgrown foliage. Genesis. His quickened pace matched his rapidly beating heart.

She was lying on the ground next to a partially hidden tree stump, soaked and muddy, grimacing as she held her right leg.

Jaxson acted without thought. He swooped her up and headed back toward his truck. That was when he saw the bull Granville had affectionately named Randy the Runaway because of how deftly he routinely escaped the fence holding the herd of cattle being raised on Jaxson’s land. The bull wasn’t far from the Kia. He could imagine her reaction to seeing an eight-hundred-pound animal coming her way, especially if she’d been standing outside of the car. No doubt she took off running and fell.

“Get out of here, Randy!” he hollered in frustration. “Go on! Get!”

The bull turned and lumbered in the opposite direction, his tail swishing without a care in the world.

Genesis spoke through gritted teeth. “Put me down. I can walk.”

Jaxson all but snorted. Until now, he hadn’t thought there was anyone more stubborn than him.

“Looks like you already tried doing that. Didn’t turn out too good for you.”

Clutching his reluctant charge, Jaxson walked carefully yet determinedly toward his pickup. Nipsey led the way, then hopped in the truck bed. Jaxson reached the passenger side of his truck, opened the door and eased Genesis into the seat. He fastened her seat belt, then rushed to get in on the driver’s side. Once there, he immediately reached for his phone and dialed the McCormicks’ number. Or tried to. When he tapped the number, there was no signal.

Damn.

Even though Cyrus’s place was less than a mile from his residence, he remembered how getting service could sometimes be sketchy, especially in storms. He fired up the truck and headed back to his house.

“Where are we going?” Genesis asked, still grimacing from the pain of an ankle severely sprained if not actually broken.

“My house.”

“No. Take me back to my uncle’s place.”

Jaxson glanced over at Ms. Independent. “Is that where you were headed when you tripped and fell?”

No response.

“We’re going to my house. As a former athlete, I’ve had more than a few experiences with injuries and broken bones and have a few items around the house that might help you.”

“It’s not broken. I’m okay.”

“You may be right in believing the ankle is not broken. But from the swelling I see happening already, you are clearly not okay.”

“I don’t want to go with you,” she managed, despite the pain.

“It’s either that or go back to your car that’s stuck in the mud, wait for the storm to pass, then hope to get a tow and repair service to help you out.”

Jaxson mashed the brake, slammed the truck in Park and turned to her. He took a calming breath, understanding to some degree why she was upset. He hadn’t immediately recognized her, and even if he had, they hadn’t exactly parted as friends. But surely ten years later she wasn’t still blaming him for what had happened to her brother, an unfortunate injury that ended his promising career. That blame was misplaced then. Her attitude was out of bounds now. There was only so much disrespect he would take.

“Your car or my house. Which is it?”

He watched as she tried to keep threatening tears behind tightly squeezed eyelids. The bravado inched its way inside his heart, but he held firm. “Do you want my help or not?”

Her nod was barely perceptible but enough for him to put the truck in Drive and continue to his house. Once there, Nipsey jumped out of the bed and ran through the gate as though traveling home in Jaxson’s truck was something he did every day. Jaxson followed just as quickly, jogging around to the passenger door and gingerly lifting Genesis out of the seat. The rain had let up slightly, making it easier to navigate the short walk from his driveway to the wraparound porch and into the house. Jaxson hesitated only briefly before walking down the hall and placing a drenched Genesis on the patchwork quilt that covered his king-size, pillow-top mattress. He immediately checked out her ankle.

In the short ride from her car to his house, which had lasted all of three minutes, it had swollen to twice its size. Genesis’s discomfort was easily visible as he helped her into his bed, her supple skin now ashen with the effort it took not to cry. He reached for the home phone next to the bed and tried again to call Hazel, breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the dial tone. After several rings the voicemail came on. Jaxson cursed under his breath.

“Miss Hazel, it’s Jax. Can you call back as soon as you get this message? I need your nursing skills. It’s urgent. Thanks.”

Jaxson turned to find Genesis shivering against the covers and writhing in pain. One look at her ankle and he knew why. The swelling tissue strained against those cute, tight jeans that fit her booty just right. But he shouldn’t be thinking about that now, he chided himself even as he pulled on more than a decade of discipline that had made him such a threat on the field and focused solely on an injury that seemed to be growing larger by the second. He knew what he needed to do. He also fully anticipated getting pushback while trying to do it.

“Genesis, um, there’s no easy way to say this. We need to get you out of those clothes.”

The implications were obvious, but he spoke the truth. Her chagrin was immediate and showed past the pain etched on her face. He usually exhibited more swagger, thought his game with the ladies was tight.

You’re not running a seduction game. You’re helping someone injured who just might become your neighbor. Watch yourself.

The voice inside his head was spot-on. For the first time in his life, there was a woman in his bed who didn’t even like him.

Ain’t that a bitch.

“What I’m saying is your jeans are preventing blood flow to that swelling ankle. And those wet clothes aren’t helping. Your body might be going into shock.”

“I can do it,” Genesis said, panting.

“I tried to reach my neighbor Miss Hazel. She’s a retired nurse.”

Jaxson reached for the cordless phone on the nightstand and tried again to reach the McCormicks. Both the home phone and their cell phones went to voicemail.

“Still no answer. The storm might have knocked out power on the hill.” He sighed, rubbed a calloused hand over his close-cropped hair. “Pain getting worse?”

She sucked in a breath. “No.”

“Liar.”

Genesis glared as she tried to hide the pain. “I told you I’m fine!”

“Look, I know you don’t like me. I figured out why. You’re Hank Hunter’s sister. Genny.” He paused, and said in a softer voice, “I remember that night.”

She averted her eyes.

“My mind wasn’t on yesteryear when Clarence introduced us. Plus, you’ve changed. Your...” Knowing how sensitive women were about weight, he continued with care. “...hairstyle is different. And you used to wear glasses, right?”

No answer.

“We don’t have to talk about it. Just wanted you to know that I now understand why you’ve been so resistant and to assure you that I’m only trying to help. I’ve had a sprain or two in my career, along with a busted kneecap that ended it. I’m not a doctor, or a perv, but someone wanting to keep your leg from getting worse. I want to check your ankle to make sure it’s not broken, and I can’t do that through those tight jeans. At this point, because of the swelling, I’m afraid cutting them is going to be our only option.”

He watched Genesis grimace as she tried to sit up. Despite her stubbornness, he was impressed. Sprained ankles could be some of the most painful injuries one could experience. That she’d held it together this good was a testament to her strength.

“We need to elevate that leg, get some ice on it.”

She fell back against the pillow. “Okay.”

“Like I said, I’ve dealt with a lot of these types of injuries. I’m just going to squeeze a little bit and see if I can tell what we’re dealing with.”

He gingerly touched various areas of her ankle, slowly moved the foot while gauging her reaction.

“Are you sure you’re not a doctor?”

“Hardly. Just going from experience.” He lifted her ankle and tried to detect anything that looked abnormal beyond the obvious injury, felt along the minor cuts on her shin. He tried and failed to remain impartial. It was a sin for someone acting like a tough cookie to have such soft, inviting skin. The thought flitted by within seconds. He reeled it in and paid keen attention to the task at hand.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” he concluded, reaching for a decorative pillow and placing it under Genesis’s ankle. “I’ll get ice to hopefully stop the swelling, and some antiseptic spray for those cuts. In the meantime, if you can, try and get out of those wet clothes and under the warm covers. You don’t want another illness on top of the injury.”

Seeing her dubious expression, he added, “Contrary to what you might believe, I’m not a monster and promise not to attack.”

This comment elicited a mere hint of a smile, one he decided looked much better than the frown she’d been serving up almost nonstop. “I’ll also try and reach Miss Hazel again to see if she can come down to have a look. Okay?”

Indecision played across her face before she answered. “Thanks.”

Barely perceptible. A wisp of a whisper. Yet Jaxson felt as though he’d won the Super Bowl, intercepted a pass and run over a hundred yards for a touchdown with no time left on the clock. Her simple response shouldn’t have felt so good. He decided not to overanalyze the moment. There were more important matters that required his attention.

He left the bedroom on a mission to obtain an ice pack, towel, spray and control of an errant libido determined to be attracted to a woman who could barely abide his presence.

Yeah, buddy, good luck with that.