Bound to the Past (Starville Series Book 1) (48 page)

The smile died on his lips, however, the instant he heard a strange sound coming from the bathroom. Jumping out of bed, he went straight to it and knocked on the closed door. “Sara?” he called out with a frown. “Babe, are you all right?”

He heard a mumbled curse, followed by a faint, “Go away.” It was all he needed to push the door open and join her inside.

“Donʼt you ever do what youʼre told?” Sara slanted him a dark look he completely ignored, too busy staring at the woman he loved sitting on the bathroom floor, her back against the wall.

“Whatʼs wrong?” he asked her, helping her stand up.

“Just a little taste of what you missed the last few weeks. Fun, huh?” she said flippantly, walking to the sink and opening the faucet. Jack didnʼt smile. He looked very serious, actually. And a little pale, too.

“Honey, donʼt worry,” she assured him, wiping her hands. “Get used to it, in fact, because it happens a lot. This darn nausea wonʼt give me a break.”

“Iʼm sorry,” he whispered. Before Sara could reply, he took a step forward, scooped her up, and carried her back into the bedroom.

“Jack!” she shrieked, laughing. “Put me down! Iʼm just pregnant, Iʼm not a china doll.”

He laid her softly on the bed and stretched beside her, propping himself up on his elbow. “No, but youʼre
my
doll.”

Sara meant to counter with something sassy and brilliant, but she gazed into his eyes and was lost. Sheʼd expected to see amusement in them, but there was no trace of it; instead, they were so intense that any words she meant to say strangled in her throat. Jack grabbed her hand and lifted it to his mouth. “Have you ever felt like you had everything you needed, Sara?”

She shook her head.

“Me, neither. Every time I even came close to it, something always got taken away from me, until I stopped thinking of it altogether.” His hand smoothed over her belly. “But thereʼs nothing in the world I need or want thatʼs not in my arms right now.”

Sara pressed her body against him. “Watch out. If you donʼt stop being so sweet, this time Iʼll be the one crying.”

Jack groaned. “Donʼt remind me.”

She tried hard not to laugh. “It was such a sweet and spontaneous thing; I donʼt understand why youʼre so embarrassed about it.”

“Are you kidding me? I havenʼt cried since I was ten!”

Sara sat up, a curious look on her face. “Tell me about it, Jack. Tell me about Jack Turner.”

“Itʼs not much of a happy story, Iʼm afraid. And my name wasnʼt even as pretty as Turner at the time.” He said it lightheartedly, but she felt him stiffen beside her. “Please, Jack. I want to know everything about you.”

“Fine. But donʼt say I ruined your day.” He shook his head. “I donʼt even know where to start.”

“How ʼbout the last time you cried?”

Jack started playing absently with a strand of her hair. “As I said, I was ten. At the time, I lived in an institution a few miles north of San Antonio.”

“What sort of…institution?”

“An orphanage. My brother and I ended up there after our parents died in a car crash.”

“Wait.” Her eyes widened. “You have a brother?”

His jaw tightened imperceptibly. “I
had
a brother. His name was Grant; he was three years older than me.”

Sara swallowed hard. She was almost afraid to ask. “What happened to him?”

“One day he went to the river close by. He was playing, they said, and…disappeared.”

Sara raised a shaky hand to her mouth. “Oh, God.”

“They looked for him for a few days. When his hooded jacket was found on the shore a couple of miles away, they determined he must have been carried offshore by the current and drowned.” Jack shrugged, but the veiled bitterness in his voice broke Saraʼs heart. She knew him well enough now to know that the harder he tried to hide his true feelings, the more he was hurting.

“Was he never found?” she hardly managed to ask, fighting to push back the tears.

“No. But I know heʼs dead, Sara. My brother would never have left without me.”

“Iʼm so sorry.”

“Thank you.” Jack stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “But, yeah, that was the last time I cried.”

Sara sighed. “What happened to you after that?”

“A family from Amarillo offered to foster me, and I decided to give it a shot, since I certainly didnʼt want to live at the orphanage without Grant,” he said flatly.

“Did you like the new family?” The dark fury that flashed in his eyes made her guess the answer. “Oh, gosh. What did they do to you?”

“Trust me, sweetheart, you donʼt wanna know about this.”

Her heart dropped. “Actually, I do, Jack.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged. “Letʼs just say the bastard believed I had the devil inside and felt compelled to beat it out of me with whatever he had at hand.”

Sara squeezed her eyes shut, unable to say a word. Suddenly, the scars on his back made sense….

“Itʼs okay, babe. If anything, when he lashed out at me, he spared his wife. Hey, it was so long ago, anyway. Look at me, Iʼm a big boy now,” he tried to joke as he noticed the tears welling in her eyes―but his words trailed off as she suddenly yanked him into her arms, holding him so tight that it almost knocked his breath out of his lungs.

“Oh, Jack,” she whispered, stroking his back up and down, trying to somehow comfort him from all the pain heʼd suffered through the years, wishing she could erase the horrible images his words had embedded into her mind.
Why, why?
What kind of monster would take his perversions out on a child whoʼd already lost everything? Why did Jack have to suffer so much?  There seemed to be no end to the horror of his past…but what was the limit to his patience? To be honest, it was a shock to her that he hadnʼt really turned into a criminal, considering everything heʼd been through.

“Are you sure you want to know the rest of my story, Sara?”

She lifted her gaze to his. His eyes were just as damp as hers, despite the light tone of his words. “Absolutely. I want to know when and how you ended up in Starville.”

“I believe
ended up
is exactly right.” A faint smile curved his lips. “I was fourteen when I decided I’d had enough of getting life lessons from a freak who used religion for his own perversions, and I ran away. I wanted to start over.”

“You were only fourteen,” she whispered, her heart aching for him. A fourteen-year-old talking about starting over!

Jack shrugged again. “I looked much older. I got myself a fake ID and started to work here and there, ranch after ranch, until I ended up in Starville. I meant to stay just a few weeks to put some money together and move on, as always; but the truth is, I liked the town. I had way too much fun driving good old bigots like Mrs. Nickelby and Mrs. Tipperton out of their minds,” he added with an impish grin.

Sara chuckled at the thought. “Did you already have your bike?”

“Nah. J.T. gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday.”

No wonder he was so attached to it.

“To tell you the truth, though,” he continued, “terrifying those blabbermouths became a lot more fun once I started riding the Harley around.”

“I can imagine.”

“Imagine away; it was awesome. Those are probably the dearest memories I have of my past. Actually, thatʼs not true—J.T. is my dearest memory.”

His expression softened so much that she felt the tears stinging her eyes again. “Tell me about him.”

“He was my father.”

“I know that.”

He shook his head. “Iʼm serious. Iʼve been blind and stupid for so long, Sara. Itʼs taken me all these years to finally realize it and admit it to myself: J.T. was my father. I donʼt care what everybody else said. Unfortunately, I never told him until it was too late.”

Sara slanted him a confused gaze. “What do you mean?”

“Iʼm talking about my stupid pride.”

“Oh. Yes, Iʼm quite familiar with that.”

Jack grinned. “Believe me, J.T. was familiar with it, too. It was a constant fight between us, because we were both too damn bull-headed; only, he was a much better person than me, and he often swallowed his pride to make me happy,” he admitted. “I always fought him, you know. At first I even turned down his offer to move to the ranch, because I refused to accept his charity…donʼt you dare laugh,” he warned her when he saw her lips twitching.

“Forget charity, Jack. You were just a child!”

“I was almost sixteen at the time but felt three times older,” he specified with disarming honesty. “I didnʼt take peopleʼs help easily back then.”

“As opposed to now, you mean?”

Jack snorted at her sarcasm. “Sara, do you want to know my story or not?”

“Sorry.” She chuckled. “Tell me what happened when you met J.T.”

“I used to sneak into his property all the time. I loved his horses and spent hours with them—heck, most of the time I even slept in the stables—until one day J.T. got sick of me hanging out there without doing anything and offered to let me move in with him. The rest is history.” He took a deep breath. “The years I spent with J.T. were the happiest of my life. I know it was hard for people to understand our relationship and that everybody thought I was only there for the money. But it wasnʼt true. I loved my father. And I shouldʼve told him more often.”

Sara took his hand. “Iʼm sure J.T. knew, hon, just like everybody else. Believe it or not, nobody in town has ever doubted your love for him. Doc told me himself, and so did Hank.”

“Funny how nobody doubted for a second that I killed him, though, huh?” he burst out, then realized his tone came across angrier than heʼd meant. “Sorry. It still hits a nerve.”

“I understand.”

“People around here never liked me, Sara; but the truth is, the very moment J.T. mentioned wanting to adopt me, everybodyʼs hostility toward me spiked. Which is why I refused to consent to it for years.”

Sara shook her head, amused and exasperated at the same time. Now that she was finally figuring out the way Jackʼs mind worked, it was much easier for her to accept the way heʼd tried to push her away, too.

“Now youʼre really thinking Iʼm an idiot, arenʼt you?”

“Actually, Iʼm thinking that you must love me a lot if you pushed me away the same way you did your father. And I may be crazy, Jack, but I feel honored.”

He laughed. “Yes, youʼre crazy. And yes, I do love you a lot,” he confirmed, leaning over to claim her mouth. It was darn hard, but Sara forced herself to break the kiss before it reached the point of no return. “Donʼt you even think about it; you have to finish your story first.”

Jack groaned as he trailed a path of kisses from her throat to her bare shoulders. “What else do you want to know? The rest is not interesting.”

“Are you kidding me? Jack, your entire story is so interesting that I could write a book about it!”

“There you go,” he whispered, his mouth on her breast. “Write a book later, but stop thinking about it now.”

She shuddered under the sweet attack of his mouth but grabbed his head firmly and pressed a quick kiss on his lips. “How ʼbout you finish your story first, then weʼll do anything you want.”

Jack sat up with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine. J.T. convinced me that I was being an idiot, so I finally consented to the adoption and became his son, blah blah blah. Then one night we had a fight, I left, and he was killed; I was accused of his murder and went to jail. There. I believe thatʼs all.”

Sara gave him an incredulous look. Then she burst out laughing. “Youʼre impossible! Seriously, Jack, there are so many things I want to know.”

“I knew youʼd say that,” he grumbled, falling backward onto the bed.

“Tell me about the night J.T. died. What did you guys have a fight about?”

Jack rubbed a hand over his face. “He came to my room saying we needed to talk and that it was important.”

“Which immediately put you on the defensive.”

“Damn straight. He told me he wanted to retire and leave me the ranch, and I lost my mind.”

Her brows knitted. “You didnʼt want him to retire?”

“I didnʼt want him to leave me the ranch! That wasnʼt why I’d agreed to become his son. I’d told him since the very beginning that I didnʼt want his damn money. If he really wanted to retire, there were dozens of men whoʼd worked for him for decades and deserved to have the ranch way more than I did. Why on earth would he even want to leave it to me, anyway?”

“Because you were his son.”

Jack shook his head. “Yet I wasnʼt—which I told him that night,” he remembered, his voice so tormented that she didnʼt manage to say or do anything but hold his hand tightly between hers. “I will never forgive myself for the things I said to him, Sara. But I did, and now itʼs too late. Iʼll never forget the look in his eyes when I told him he wasnʼt my father. Itʼs haunted me for years, and itʼs one of the first flashbacks I had when my memories started returning.”

“It was one of the nightmares that kept waking you up at night, wasnʼt it?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “We were standing right in front of my bedroom window. The same window he was thrown out of just a few hours later. And I thought I did it, Sara—dear God, I really thought I killed him.”

“But you didnʼt, Jack. And you have to stop torturing yourself for it.”

“You were right,” he continued, as if he hadnʼt even heard her. “All I ever do is run. Itʼs my fault J.T. died that night; had I stayed at the ranch and faced the situation instead of running away, he might still be alive.”

“Stop it!” Sara grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “It wasn’t your fault. You and J.T. simply had a fight that night, thatʼs all.”

“No, Sara. I told him all those horrible things because I wanted to hurt him. Because I knew they would push him away from me…just like I did with you,” he admitted, shaking his head. “Iʼm such an idiot.”

“Yes, you are. But youʼre not a murderer. The sooner you come to terms with that, the sooner youʼll be able to find some peace. For Godʼs sake, honey, we all make mistakes. Weʼre only human―although this is a concept you havenʼt grasped quite yet.” She sighed at his doubtful expression. “You know what, though? I really wish I had your self-control sometimes. Youʼre so much stronger than me. I donʼt know how I would have reacted in your place, how I would have endured a life like yours,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. “But Iʼll make you happy, Jack. I swear I will.”