You're Not Broken(20)

Janelle jumped past them. “I’ll get it!” she said cheerily as she hopped off to fetch the pie.



A beat passed between them.



“What are you doing here?” Kat blurted suddenly. This was a long way from Fayetteville. And after so much time had passed.



“If I recall, you had asked that I come back to Peytonville someday,” he said, his gaze never wavering.



Kat felt a sudden shyness and surprise at the mention of her letters. Yes, she had asked him to come back one day. But she had asked him that two years ago. She had asked him before he had decided to forget her.



“So is that what you’re doing? Here for a visit?” she asked, trying to infuse her voice with as much casualness as possible.



Janelle returned and placed the pie in front of Jason. He took a huge forkful and then closed his eyes as he gave a low hum of pleasure. “It’s hard to believe anything could taste as good as your blueberry pie but this sure does come close,” he said, taking another heaping bite.



Kat tried to ignore the pleasure she felt at his words. She always loved seeing people enjoy her baking.



After finishing the entire slice, Jason sat back and took another sip of his coffee. “I’m here for more than a visit,” he finally answered. “I’m looking for some work.” He paused, his coffee cup nearly to his lips, his eyes pinned on Kat. “And maybe a home.”



Kat swallowed. Was the man purposely trying to seduce her? She could feel the heat of him from all the way over the counter.



“Well,” she said, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder, “good luck. There’s hardly any work around here nowadays.”



Jason crossed his arms, emphasizing the broadness of his chest. “Oh I don’t know about that,” he said breezily. “I think I could manage to find something.”



So clearly he wasn’t in the Army anymore if he was looking for work. But if he was looking for work, Fayetteville offered him better luck than Peytonville did. In fact, most of anywhere in North Carolina offered him better luck than Peytonville.



So what was his real reason for being here?



“You sound pretty confident about that,” Kat said, eyeing him warily, the words of his long ago letters suddenly ringing clear in her mind.



Jason smiled warmly. She felt shaken by not only his sudden appearance but also the sudden remembrance of the man she had met two years ago. There was a familiar warmth in him that she had failed to see in Fayetteville.



“I’m just very determined,” he said quietly, infusing meaning into his every word.



After one final look at Kat, he smiled and stood up, opening his wallet to pay for his meal.



“Thanks for the pie,” he said, smiling to Janelle, who was clearly enthralled by this tall, dark, and handsome stranger. Jason looked over to the order window where Malcolm was still angrily slapping the grill. “And I hope the Doughy Pop’s egg and cheese and coffee and mug shortage gets resolved soon.”



Before Malcolm could whirl around with a comeback, Jason had already strode through the door, the echoing chimes of the door bell left in his wake.





Chapter Eight



“It’s just a cough,” Dillon complained as he sat back in the recliner, his arm outstretched with an IV trailing its toxic but very necessary medicine into him.



“And a fever,” Kat added. “And shivers.” She looked at her brother pointedly, his thin shoulders shrugging indifferently. “You’ve also lost some more weight.”



Dillon made a face. “Oh and I’m sure hospital food is just the thing to bring those pounds back on,” he said sarcastically.



Kat grinned. “Jell-O is delicious at this time of year,” she said.



“It’s gelatin goop and water, Kat,” Dillon said in a grumbling voice. “Not a honeycrisp apple. There’s no season for goop.”



Kat’s grin widened as she gently straightened the blanket over Dillon. He got cold easily now and the hospital was always a little on the cool side.



They sat together in the outpatient chemo room as Dillon received his treatment. But today, they would not be going home together. Dillon had been coughing quite a lot lately and his loss of appetite was more extreme than usual.



His doctors had agreed and suggested Dillon be kept overnight for observation. With how weak his immune system was, there was no such thing as being too careful with him. Every cough or sniffle could mean something more sinister for Dillon.



Kat looked at her brother’s hollowed out face. His cheekbones were protruding out like cliffs against a flat seaside. How many treatments like this had he endured in his life already? How many times had he been poked or prodded? All without his mother’s comforting touch or his father’s solid strength behind him.