Page 105 of Before You Can Blink
As guilty as I felt for her cooking the meal and doing the cleanup, the pain was wearing on me, so I hadn’t put up much of a fight.
Mac latched the door to keep out the early winter chill as Aspen’s eyes searched the space. “Mama around?”
“In the kitchen, honey!” Daisy called out before I could reply.
My son-in-law was left behind when his wife rushed from the room, so I lifted my glass, offering, “Want a drink?”
Shaking his head, Mac took a seat on the couch. “Nah. I’m on call tonight.”
“Ah.” I took a sip, savoring the rich flavor. “Work good?”
Not long after their wedding two years ago, he had completed his training to become a firefighter, and from what I heard from Gary Jones, my daughter’s husband was an incredible addition to the station. Not that I was at all surprised. He was naturally enthusiastic, which bolstered his work ethic, and his capacity for empathy was an incredible asset when dealing with disaster relief and medical emergencies.
He opened his mouth to answer my question, but before any words came out, a muffled sob reached my ears from the kitchen. Instantly, I went on alert, sitting bolt upright.
The sudden movement sent a flash of fire down my spine, and I hissed. “Shit.”
Concerned, Mac rushed to my side. “You okay?”
Jaw clenched, I forced out a clipped, “Fine.” My hand moved to my lower back. “Help me up.”
For a second, it looked as though he might refuse. But given that my nostrils were flaring like those of a pissed-off bull, he thought better of it and offered me the leverage needed to stand.
Hobbling toward the kitchen, I didn’t make it all the way there before Daisy rounded the corner, her face streaked with tears.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Alarm seeped into my tone.
Aspen appeared beside her mother, and her brow furrowed when she caught sight of my hunched-over appearance. “What happened to you, Daddy? Are you hurt?”
“It’s nothing.” I waved her off. “Why’s your mama cryin’?”
“Oh.” My daughter’s lips parted before her eyes darted to Mac, standing behind me.
A lightning bolt of agony zipped through me when I twisted my neck to peek at him, and I barely managed to stifle a whimper as the searing-hot pain threatened to bring me to my knees.
Of course, that didn’t escape Daisy’s notice, and her hand gripped my elbow, urging me to move back to the recliner. “Sit down, Jett.”
The edges of my vision darkened, but I managed to speak through gritted teeth. “Tell. Me.”
“Lord, you are a stubborn man.” I didn’t need to look up to know my wife was rolling her eyes.
“Daze . . .” I warned.
“Sit.” Her tone grew firm.
Thirty-plus years of marriage had taught me that if there was a standoff between me and my wife, she would always win, so I gave up the fight, letting her guide me back to my chair before gently easing onto it.
When the worn leather molded to my body, my eyes slid closed, and I sighed. A few deep breaths later, my lids lifted, and I fixed each member of my family with a glare. “Someone better spill.”
The lot of them looked guilty as sin. It felt like I was back in school when some kids would tell a joke that only half the class was in on.
“I—uh—” Aspen shifted nervously on her feet. “I got the proofs back on our Christmas card and brought it over to show you guys.”
My brows drew down. “Your mama was crying over a Christmas card? Doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.”
Daisy handed me the white envelope she was holding. “Maybe this will help you understand.”
My lips thinned as my eyes scanned the portrait printed on cardstock.
