He still hurt, still woke up each morning stiff and achy. Kyrie said that was to be expected. But the more he moved throughout the day, the better he felt. And every day he could move a little more.
Jenna opened the front door before he reached the top of the steps. “You’re getting around so well.” She shut the door behind her and joined him on the porch. “You’re the hardest worker I know.”
This was something else he’d noticed. She never invited him inside. They’d hung out every day for the past few weeks, and yet they’d been alone only a handful of times.
And almost never lately.
Brady let it go.
“I found the perfect park.” Jenna moved to the edge of the porch. “Fifteen miles of paths and they rent bikes right near the parking lot.”
“Sounds good.” He took Jenna’s hand as they walked back to his truck. If this summer was all they ever shared, if he had to live the rest of his life without knowing the sweet look in her eyes or the feel of her lips against his then he would at least have the memories of these weeks.
The feel of her fingers between his.
He opened the truck door for her and before she stepped inside, he pulled her into his arms. “Is Allison home?” His voice was softer than before. Full of a desire he could no longer avoid.
“She’s not.” The want in Jenna’s eyes mirrored his own. But again she stopped short of inviting him in. “Brady . . . I can’t . . .”
“Shhh.” He put his finger to her lips, and then, like he was dying to do, he kissed her. “I missed you.”
This time she kissed him and when she finally stepped back, her cheeks were red. “I missed you, too.” But as soon as she said the words the look in her eyes changed.
There it is again, he thought. What is it? He walked to the driver’s side and climbed in. Every move made him aware of his healing injuries. But nothing hurt more than her hesitancy or doubt. Whatever it was.
Forget it, Brady. He started the truck and pulled away from the curb. She was here. She was real and she was his. There was nothing to fear. He forced himself to relax.
The radio was on. Country music. Something by Thomas Rhett. He turned it down and glanced at her. “I used to pretend you were in the car behind me.” He grinned. Anything to hold on to the good between them. “Did I ever tell you that?”
“No.” She turned in her seat so she was facing him. “Like I was driving behind you?”
“Yeah.” He looked straight ahead again. “I couldn’t find you. So I let myself believe you were there.” He raised his brow in her direction. “Does that freak you out?”
She laughed. “I mean, it’s sad, but no.” A quick pause. “Of course, if you actually saw me in the car behind you I’d have to wonder.”
“It never got that bad.” Not quite true, but Brady liked the easy banter too much to be too honest now. There were definitely times when he looked in his rearview mirror and saw her. His imagination was that strong.
“I have to say, I never pretended you were in the car behind me.” Jenna looked relaxed, happy.
“Never?” He mouthed the word in her direction. Then he feigned a knife through his heart. “Ouch.” Another glance in her direction. “And the mall.” He allowed a quiet laugh. “I pretended we were shopping in different stores. That we’d meet up for lunch, but then . . .” His laughter faded. “Lunch never came.”
Jenna watched him, her expression tender again. “I never got to the place of seeing you where you weren’t.” She didn’t look away. “Every time I remembered that day, I was sure there was a reason you never called. Like you had a girlfriend. Or maybe you’d just moved on like the rest of the club.”
He nodded a few times. “The club.” They were almost at the park. “I stopped looking for familiar faces after you didn’t come back the next year. Since then . . .” His voice trailed off. “I guess I haven’t thought much about the club.”
They reached the park and Brady found a spot at the back of the lot. More walking. Better for his recovery. He’d been worried about getting on a bike. Before the accident, his workouts were hours at a time. He could’ve biked up the side of a mountain. Thirty miles would be a cooldown.
But now, he wasn’t sure he’d find his balance, or if his legs would move the way they were supposed to. Also it was hotter than it had been all month. Hot and humid. Some days Brady still felt his energy drop off, sometimes without warning.
Not that it mattered. He would get through this bike ride no matter what toll it took on him. Clouds gathered in the distance and Brady remembered that thunderstorms were forecast. Maybe they should cut the ride short.
Jenna looked up. “Glad we’re starting now.” She didn’t say what she was probably thinking. That the worst thing would be for them to get caught in a storm. A slippery path could make even the simplest ride hazardous.
They rented bikes from a booth near the parking lot. Jenna climbed on hers first, and Brady stayed behind her. If he couldn’t work the pedals he didn’t want her to see him fall. He clenched his teeth, his determination fierce. His first attempt was a fail. He slid off the seat, his legs on either side of the frame.
Then in a single motion he tried again and he was on, his feet and legs working just as they should. Jenna looked back. “You’ve got it!”
There was a humiliation in realizing that anyone was celebrating the fact he could ride a bike. Especially Jenna. But in this situation Brady didn’t care. He might as well have won gold in the Olympics. He was riding a bike! Nearly three months ago he had almost died. And now he was pedaling through a city park with Jenna.
Life was good.
They rode four miles of path before taking a break. Jenna’s idea. Brady had water bottles in his backpack and he grabbed one for each of them. She took a long sip. “How do you feel?”
He looked at her, searched her face and her eyes. “Perfect.”
“Good.” She drank more water, put the lid back on and handed him the bottle. She seemed to notice the storm moving closer on the horizon. “Maybe we should turn back.”
“Another couple miles.” He breathed in deep. “I’ve never felt so alive in all my life.”
He wanted to kiss her again, take her in his arms and get back to the bike ride later. But today couldn’t be about that. He wanted to know her heart, her thoughts. What she wanted for tomorrow and next month and ten years from now.
The conversation they both seemed to keep avoiding.
Brady led the way this time. His legs didn’t hurt, and by the end of the next few miles he had forgotten about the rods in his thighs or the approaching storm or the fact that the summer was waning.
After a while, they reached a grove of flowering dogwoods and black walnut trees. They stopped their bikes and climbed off. Only then did Brady realize he was breathing too hard. Exhale. Just exhale.
“You okay?” Jenna walked her bicycle beside him and leaned on the seat. Her eyes clouded with worry. “We should go back.”
“No. I’m . . . fine.” Another few out-breaths . There. He felt the panic subside. He could fill his lungs with air again. “I’m a little rusty. That’s all.” He wanted to talk about something else. “I love trees. I always have.”
“Me, too.” Jenna lifted her eyes to the branches overhead. “Ever since that first time at the memorial.”
“Yeah. Who knew so much heart and emotion could come from an elm.”
“Mmmm. True.” Jenna smiled at him. “I see the branches like arms, lifted to heaven. Praising God. Because the creation can’t do anything else.” Her eyes were flirty, her tone carefree. This wasn’t one of those moments, where she almost seemed like she was testing him, his faith.
But the comment rubbed Brady like sandpaper. Did she really believe that? Trees had no choice but to praise God? He clenched his jaw. The idea was ridiculous. He looked at a grove of oaks up ahead. Calm, Brady. Don’t ruin the moment. He forced himself to relax. “You know what I see when I look at a tree?”
“Tell me.” She tilted her head back.
The wind in her hair was a vision that for a long moment left Brady speechless. He took a deep breath and tried to focus. “I see The Swiss Family Robinson. A mom and dad, a couple imaginative brothers. All of them shipwrecked together, making the most of it.” He paused. “I saw that movie a dozen times when I was in middle school. I had the same foster family for three years. It was their favorite film.”
“I remember it.” Jenna looked up at the highest branches. “I loved how they survived together.”
“Yes.” He caught a few glimpses of her, face lifted toward the sky, understanding how he felt about something as simple as The Swiss Family Robinson. How did she do it? Whatever his heart felt, hers felt, too. Even now. More than a decade later. Still, there was a part she wasn’t connecting with. “Don’t you get it, Jenna?”
“Get what?” She looked at him.
“God didn’t let our families survive together. So how could the trees be praising Him?”
She looked hurt by his remark, but before she could say anything the first clap of thunder hit.
“Come on.” He took a few steps and climbed back on his bike. “Now we really do need to get back.”
Lightning split the clouds as they turned around and set out. Ten minutes later the sky opened up and rain poured hard and intense around them. Brady had to yell to be heard over the sound of it. “There!” He pointed to a picnic shelter twenty yards ahead.
Wind whipped against them as they pedaled the last few feet to cover. They pulled their bikes under and rested them against the wall. Brady was breathing hard, the effort taking its toll. Jenna was out of breath, too.
Both of them were drenched.
Brady leaned against his bike and faced her. He laughed, but it was more out of desperation. His legs shook and he wondered if he might collapse. “I’ve . . . got nothing left.” The storm raged outside, but they didn’t have to yell now.
Worry changed Jenna’s expression. She pointed to a picnic table. “You need to sit down.”
She was right, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t take a step. “It’s . . . okay.”
The handlebars were pressing into his back, and suddenly Jenna seemed to notice. “Here . . . let me help.” She moved the bike so he could rest against the wall.
His breaths were shallow and fast, his body struggling to get oxygen. Relax . . . inhale. She stepped back, watching him, clearly concerned. He followed his own orders and after a minute or so his breathing steadied.
“The wind’s crazy.” She looked suddenly afraid. “It’s not a tornado, right?”
With his remaining energy, he pulled his phone from his pocket. His hands trembled as he checked his weather app. He clicked on the radar and saw the banner across the bottom. SEVERE THUNDERSTORM WARNING . He stared at the sky and put his phone away. The clouds were blacker than before. “No tornado. Not yet, anyway.”
Lightning crackled on either side of the shelter. Thunder shook the ground and Jenna jumped. “That was close.” Her teeth chattered, her hair wet against her face. “You think . . . we’re okay here?”
His energy was coming back. Just enough for him to realize what was happening around him. She was scared. If she needed protecting, he was the guy. He found his footing and held out his hands. “Come here.” He willed himself to find the strength to hold her. “I’ve got you, Jenna.”
She slipped her arms around his waist. “I’m afraid.”
“I know.” He ran his hand along her back. “I’m here.”
He could feel her heart beat, her breath against his neck. The storm was getting worse, fierce hail and pounding rain battering the roof and sides of the shelter. It felt like dusk, the clouds were so dark now. Before he could check the radar again, the alert on his phone buzzed. “Hold on.” He took his phone from his pocket again and read the notification. “Tornado warning.”
“Brady!” She was more panicked, more afraid. Her eyes locked onto his. “What do we do?”
“We’ll be okay.” He would keep her safe, whatever he had to do.
In the distance sirens began to sound, their haunting rhythmic cry filling the air, mixing with the whistling wind and hail. Brady still felt shaky. The weakness wanted to consume him, but he fought it. Jenna needed him. His eyes darted around the shelter.
At the same time the wind grew stronger, howling and almost drowning out the wailing sirens. Brady needed a plan. There were four picnic tables under the covering. The table in the back corner was probably the safest. “Come on.” He took her hand and led her to that one. “Get under it.”
They scrambled to the ground and he made sure she was under the table before he took refuge beside her. She was shaking, and Brady realized the temperature had dropped. Twenty, thirty degrees maybe. Classic tornado weather.
A sound like a barreling freight train came next. Brady had to yell to be heard. “Hold on to me!”
Jenna did as he asked. She grabbed his waist and held on like her life depended on it. For all Brady knew, it did. He wrapped his arms around her body and clung to her.
“Jesus, help us!” Jenna cried out the words.
And even there, hanging on to each other beneath a picnic table in the middle of what seemed like a tornado, Brady felt the name grate against his soul. Jesus ? She was crying out to Him now? The flicker of a thought ran through his mind.
Why would Jesus help them? He hadn’t helped their parents.
Stop, he told himself. Focus . The most important thing was protecting her. The shelter started to shake and suddenly sections of wood pulled away and disappeared.
Jenna buried her face in Brady’s chest. She was still praying, at least it sounded that way. It was too loud to hear her. Brady put one hand over her head and the other tight against her back, holding her as close as he could.
Next it was the roof. The half by the entrance collapsed in a sudden ground-shaking crash. Their bikes were buried in the rubble.
Right where they had been standing.
Jenna had her eyes closed, her face still pressed against him. She didn’t know yet what had almost happened. The storm roared overhead and then, gradually, the sound began to lessen. More thunder and lightning, but the tornado sirens stopped.
He breathed against her hair, holding her. That was close. Way too close. Adrenaline continued pumping through his arms and legs. “It’s okay.” His heart still raced. “It’s over.”
They climbed out from under the table and Jenna held on to him again. Only then did she see the collapsed roof and their bikes, somewhere under the debris. “If we hadn’t . . .” She turned and eased her arms around his waist. “If you hadn’t . . .”
She didn’t have to finish her sentence. If they hadn’t gotten under the table, they could’ve been killed. Brady had responded to storm scenes where people had died in lesser situations.
A ton of roofing and brick and wood collapsing over them? He shuddered. “I’m glad we moved when we did.”
“It all happened so fast.” She stepped back and held on to his forearms. “I mean, ten minutes ago we were riding our bikes and now . . .” Tears shone in her eyes. “Brady, we could be dead.”
The storm was passing, leaving only the subsiding wind and rain and an occasional rumble of thunder. Never mind the broken pieces all around them, all Brady could see was her face. Her unforgettable green eyes.
“Jenna . . .” He eased his fingers along her cheeks and into her wet hair. His voice grew quiet. “I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.” He allowed himself to get lost in her. “Not ever.”
Like the tide against the shore, they came together. The attraction, the chemistry between them was stronger than the storm. Brady’s kiss came in a rush of passion and intensity, more than before. Everything about it was like a dream. Before, Jenna had always seemed so careful when they kissed.
But here, now, there was none of that. Nothing could’ve stopped the moment. The kiss grew until it felt alm
ost desperate. This was Jenna, in his arms. The one he’d looked for and longed for half his life.
Finally he drew back, his breathing fast. He released his hold on her and looked at the scene around them. Beyond the damaged shelter a few trees were down. Nothing like the destruction Brady had seen from other Oklahoma tornadoes. But bad, all the same. He reached for her again.
“We need to go.” Fear returned to her eyes. “We need dry clothes. And you’re not supposed to be out this long.”
Brady nodded. She looked so beautiful. All he wanted to do was live in this minute forever. He would’ve stayed here all week if it meant not letting go of Jenna. But she was right. His adrenaline had worn off and the tired feeling was back. They were both drenched as he took her hands, and that’s when he noticed it. Something in her touch was different. Like her heart had pulled away in a matter of seconds.
Brady knew deep in his gut that the change had nothing to do with the storm or their soaking wet clothing.
He hugged her again, but it didn’t last as long. He studied her eyes, her expression. There was no time like now. He tried to draw a deep breath and failed. It didn’t matter. He had something to say. “Can we talk? Before we go?”
Jenna relaxed, and nodded. “Okay.” The concern was definitely there. Concern or hesitation. Something. “We should.”
He wanted to kiss her again. But he wanted answers more. “Something’s different. With you . . . with us.”
She didn’t deny it. She only looked at him, straight to his soul.
“Why?” The thudding in his chest came harder, faster. His legs felt weak. “What’s . . . going on?”
Jenna placed her hand against his cheek. “Summer’s almost over.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m going home soon.”
Panic wrapped its fingers around his throat. “Jenna . . . I spent years looking for you.” He forced a single laugh. “You think my feelings are going to change because summer’s over?”