Greg ran a hand over his face and got lost staring at a past Dylan didn’t understand anymore. Nothing he remembered added up to this much hurt rolling off Jessie every time he saw and spoke to her.
“Exhausted and hurting, Jessie came into our office to ask about a job. She’d been to some free clinic to have her back examined. By the time she came to us, she had an infection and needed to have all the stitches redone because the guy who’d stitched her up had done a piss-poor job of cleaning out the wound. Dad gave her a job on the spot, drove her to the hospital, and had her taken care of properly. He set her up in a studio apartment near work after it took almost an hour to convince her if she didn’t tell us what happened, we’d call the cops and have them haul her back to Fallbrook. Scared to death, she believed our bluff.”
Dylan understood Greg and his father wouldn’t have sent her back to anyone capable of hurting her that way.
“She’s one of the smartest women I know. When we hired her, we thought she’d be like a secretary, or do some easy labor, cleaning up the jobsites. We had no idea how much she knew about construction. She taught Dad and me more than a few things. She’s got great ideas, and with help from my father, she’s built a life for herself.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because for six months Dad and I wondered if she’d live or die. She wanted to die and did damn near everything to wither away before our eyes.”
“This isn’t just about the fact I left, or anything Buddy did to her. Is it?” Dylan asked, looking grim.
“She believed, back then, you didn’t want anything to do with her, or what happened to her. She tried. Once your mother gave her your message, she had no choice but to go on without you. Then, the unspeakable happened, and we almost lost her. She needs to share it with you because she can’t carry the burden alone anymore, but I get why she’s reluctant to tell you. She doesn’t want to hurt you. She’s afraid you’ll hate her, and if you hate her, then everything from her past is tainted. She’ll have nothing good left to hold on to.”
Greg shook his head, a sad, desolate look coming over him. “Talk to J.T. and everything will make perfect sense. She’s come back little by little, but I still see where a part of her is still missing. She’s still alone.” Greg sighed, stared up and away, thinking again before giving him another clue that told him nothing. “I can’t tell you how important Hope is.” He slapped Dylan on the shoulder. “That’s all the help I can give you. If you love her, make it a point to find out now. Don’t wait any longer. Don’t let her get away with blowing you off. J.T. deserves to finally put the past to rest. She’s done that with her father. Now, she needs to do it with you. Otherwise, she’ll spend the rest of her life with it hanging around her heart, dragging her down, and stealing every ounce of happiness that comes her way.”
Greg walked out with the sheriff right behind him. Before they each got into their cars, Greg asked, “Why didn’t you tell her you were leaving?”
“She scared the hell out of me,” Dylan admitted. “You don’t find the woman of your dreams at eighteen. Except, I did and was too stupid to see it. I didn’t deserve her then, and I sure as hell don’t deserve her now. I will get her back though, and spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to her that I let her down and never protected her the way she needed me to.”
Greg sighed. “Love makes us all stupid at one time or another.”
They both looked out across the dirt road and found Jessie kneeling on top of the roof of a house nearby. Jay raised his face to the sun and sucked in a huge breath. Every hammer blow made him put a hand up to his eyes or head, his face red with the effort to keep up with Jessie.
“She’s going to punish him for the rest of the day, isn’t she?” Dylan asked.
“She makes it clear when anyone signs on. No drinking on the job and don’t be late. Under no circumstances should you show up hungover and expect to get out of working as if you were a hundred percent. No one will cover for you. If you do, then you end up working with her. This is just a normal day for her. Poor Jay will wish he never hears a hammer again.”
“She could use the pneumatic nail gun,” Dylan suggested.
On the other houses being roofed and shingled, pneumatic nail guns went off like some kind of battle being waged.
“She could, but what fun would that be for poor Jay. He’ll either make it to the end of the day with her, or she’ll fire him.”
“She’d fire him because of a hangover?”