She jumped. Jackson had reached her door and was waiting for her. “Sorry. I was thinking.”
“About?”
“It really bothers me, Jackson. Even when this is over, there will be some who say I’m only back at my job because Blaine is the superintendent.” Her lip curled. “Of course, I can’t tell anyone he isn’t my father. That would hurt my mom.”
Jackson placed his hands on the doorframe and leaned in a bit. “If you want to tell people he’s not your dad, or if you want to change jobs, I’d say do what suits you. Life is short. Yes, you need to take care of others, but take care of you too.”
She gazed into his eyes. She’d kept her emotions in for so long she felt like her skin had been stretched too thin over her body. Like a balloon blown too full. She needed some release or she’d pop.
Unbuckling, she turned sideways so she faced him and her feet braced against the bottom frame of the truck door. “Jackson, I haven’t had a relationship with my mother, a real one, ever. I’d always assumed she didn’t love me. Do you know what I learned today?”
“Tell me.” His warm breath washed over her face.
“She was pretty much forced to marry my dad. She did it, not because she loved him or because she feared my parents, but because she loved me and didn’t want to give me up. She sacrificed so much.”
“And Blaine?”
She smiled at the distaste in those two words. “It was all about appearances for him. Always. I don’t suppose he’ll ever change.”
Jackson opened his mouth, paused, then seemed to come to a decision. “I don’t know if he’ll change. But I will pray for him. And your mom. But mostly for you. Faith can heal people. I know you’ve been struggling with trusting God. But some days my faith is all that gets me through.”
She leaned forward until her forehead touched his chest. “I prayed last night.”
He went still. “And?”
Shrugging, she relaxed into him. “I don’t know. I didn’t feel as if anything changed. But maybe I did it wrong.”
“Prayer always changes you. It doesn’t matter if you felt it.”
“But Jackson, I prayed, and today, someone tried to kill me.”
“Honey, you prayed and God protected you.” He hugged her briefly.
She stilled. “I’m still scared.”
“I know. That’s natural.”
She backed off and glanced up at him, setting her jaw. “But I refuse to cower. I can’t live in fear.”
“Attagirl.”
He moved away, and she turned to collect her bag from the truck floor. Then stopped. Through the slits in her bedroom blinds, she saw movement.
Tension tightened her shoulders. “I think someone is in my room.”
He shifted so he could see the window she pointed to. “Could Gus be in there?”
“I doubt it.” Had someone broken into her aunt’s house? Images of Jane and Gus lying helpless in their own blood flashed in her mind.
The person came close to the window blinds. Through the opening, Mia caught a glimpse of familiar dark curls. She hissed in anger.
“Mia? What was that for?” Jackson was scanning the area, no doubt looking for danger. “You don’t sound scared or worried.”
“I’m not. I’m furious. It’s Jane. She’s searching my room.” Mia jumped down from the truck. Her bruised body protested, but anger fueled her to ignore her physical complaints.
She quietly entered the house, aware of Jackson at her back.
Gus’s dear face lit up when she saw Mia.