Three Boys and a Baby. Laura Altom Marie

Given the gravity of their shared things, he wasn’t sure what else to say.

      The police station’s dingy beige lobby hummed with activity.

      Phones ringing.

      Teletype grunting.

      Hank barking orders.

      Not since grizzled old Digger Mason had been found dead under the Forked River bridge had Jackson seen such a commotion. Deputies had been called in from three additional counties. Bullock County had just suffered major tornado damage from a sudden spring storm and couldn’t spare the manpower. With all available National Guard members also helping, using the station parking lot as a home base, Jackson had had to park half a block down the street.

      A lot of the guys from the fire station had also come down to help with the search. Hank had mentioned that Jackson’s best bud, Vince Calivaris, currently led a crew at the abandoned rock quarry. While Jackson thought it was good of Calivaris to lend a hand, the thought of him finding the boys floating facedown in icy, deep-blue water filled his stomach with cold lead.

      “Coffee, Mrs. Garvey?” Deputy Heidi Wesson offered Ella a steaming cup. “Fresh-brewed. Can I get you some cream or sugar?”

      “No. But, thank you,” Ella said, accepting the cup, cautiously sipping, then groaning with apparent pleasure. Jackson had never seen a woman take her coffee black. He supposed, what with her being a pediatrician and all, that she’d probably never had time for frivolities like doctoring a cup of joe. He found himself liking that fact about her. Her no-nonsense attitude.

      You despise that quality in your all-business ex.

      Did he? Or was it the fact that she’d valued efficiency over love?

      “How about you?” Heidi asked, offering Jackson a cup, as well.

      He murmured his thanks.

      “If you’re hungry, the PTA set up an amazing snack table in the break room. I heard it’s being manned by parents from the boys’ school, and that—”

      “I—I have to go,” Ella said, her voice faint. “Th-thanks again for the—” She gestured to the cup she’d set on a battered metal folding chair.

      “Sure. No problem…” Heidi murmured while Ella ran for the building’s double front doors. She pushed them open as if desperate for air. Hope.

      “Want me to check on her?” Heidi asked Jackson. They’d been friends for a while. She’d started with the sheriff’s office the same year he’d taken a full-time position with Firehouse Number 3. The town actually only had two fully manned stations. Number 1 was an honorary title given to the historic red barn holding dive gear for rare underwater rescues.

      Shoulders squared, chest aching at the sight of Ella out on the station’s concrete surround, hunched over, bracing her hands on her knees, Jackson said, “Thanks, but let me.”

      “Sure? I’m thinking this situation calls for a bit more finesse than your usual growling self.”

      “Give me a break,” he said, setting his already emptied cup alongside Ella’s.

      “I’m just saying…” His friend held up her hands, flashing a wry smile.

      He shook his head.

      Outside, the day was fine. Bright and sunny. Not a cloud in the sky. Not at all the kind of day that suited his mood.

      He aimed for Ella, but some GI Joe decked out in full-on camo gear beat him to the punch. He’d slipped his arm around Ella’s quaking shoulders, giving her sympathetic pats.

      Why, Jackson couldn’t have said, but even from where he stood a good twenty feet away, possessiveness tore through him. He and Ella were going through this godawful ordeal together. He’d be the one to comfort her. See her through it. Guarantee all three of their boys and this baby they’d carted off were safely returned.

      Marching to Ella’s side, he cleared his throat and said to the guy still rubbing her back, “I’ll take it from here.”

      “I’m good,” the National Guardsman said.

      Lowering his voice to the universal back-off tone, Jackson said, “Seriously. She’s with me.”

      “Oh.” The guy eyed Ella, then him, then backed away. “I was just trying to help.”

      “I know. Thanks.”

      “No problem.”

      Once the Guardsman had left, Jackson shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. He wanted to comfort Ella—damn bad—but something inside him felt broken. As if Julie had taken a chunk of him with her when she’d taken off.

      “Look at me,” Ella said with a messy sniffle. “I’m a bona fide wreck.”

      “I’d say you have a right to be.”

      “You’re not. A mess, that is.”

      Wanna bet?

      “Here we’ve both been trained to deal with all manner of emergencies, yet I’m falling apart.”

      “Correct me if I’m wrong,” he said, “but they probably didn’t teach you much in med school about what to do in the event your twins go missing.”

      She laughed through more tears, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. “You’ve got that right.”

      “Come on,” he said, reaching for her hand. His movements were awkward, landing his knuckles against her thigh before fumbling for the tear-dampened fingers of her left hand. But once he had hold of her, he held on for all he was worth. “I’m meeting up with my ex in a little while, but for the moment, it looks like we’re just in the way here. There’s somewhere I think you should go.”

      “Just me?” Trailing beside him, her red-rimmed eyes were trusting, yet at the same time, wary.

      “Well…” He squeezed her hand. “Obviously, we’re both going. I’ve got my cell should there be any news.”

      “Good news,” she said.

      “Absolutely.”

      “Because that’s the only kind we’ll accept, right?”

      Lord, how Jackson missed the days back when he used to be filled with hope. When he used to believe prayer really worked. Back before Julie had left for greener pastures. He’d already lost his marriage. If he ended up losing his son, as well…

      “Right, Jackson? Good news is all we’ll take?”

      He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Uh-huh.”

      

      “HOW DID YOU EVER find this?” Ella whispered, oddly afraid to speak in her full voice, almost as if the wondrous place’s spell might be broken.

      “Accident,” Jackson said with a shrug. “Long story short, we were working a three-car pile-up alongside the highway, and I needed to take a leak.”

      The answer was so unexpectedly honest—not to mention inappropriate—that she burst out laughing.

      “What?”

      “You. You’re not exactly brimming with social graces, are you?”

      “That a problem?”

      “Considering what we’re going through, not at all. However, once our boys are safely home, and we’re back to our old routines, if you ever get a hankering to ask out Deputy Heidi, you may wish to bone up on your suave skills.”

      At that, he was the one laughing. “Thanks. It’s been years since I’ve had that good a laugh.”

      “Let me guess. You’ve never exactly been brimming with suaveness, either?”

      “Ding, ding, ding. You win the prize.” He lifted a pine