Page 59 of Wishes on Wildflowers
A gavel pounded at the front of the room.
Nathan and Dan both turned. Silence clung to the courtroom. Time suspended as the judge narrowed his gaze at Basil and contemplated his sentence.
“Thirty days in jail. Two years driver’s license revocation. Eighteen hundred dollars fine. My decision is final.”
Dan’s head jerked in a tight nod. “Good, though I was hoping for more time in the lockup.”
Nathan had been hoping for less. Would jail make Basil a better man, or a bitter man? It depended on Basil. All Nathan could do was pray, just like his friend’s family would be doing. “Our world needs justice, but it also needs mercy.”
Dan pulled to his feet. “Yeah, I don’t know. I think it needs justice more. Good talking to you, man. See you around.” He slammed his baseball cap to his head and headed for the exit.
Nathan should follow him. Shouldn’t still be here when Jasmine and her family left the building, but he couldn’t move. His longing to see her again would not be denied. It was a good sign she’d attended Basil’s sentencing. Did it mean she was starting to forgive her brother?
Nathan could only hope.
Jasmine slidher backpack purse straps over her shoulders then froze. How had she not even noticed Nathan at the back of the courtroom? And was that Dan Ranta heading out the door?
Alex’s elbow gently prodded her. “You should go talk to him.”
She pulled away. “Stop pushing me.”
“If not now, when?”
“I said—”
“And I heard you. Seriously, Jas. Putting it off isn’t going to make it easier.”
“Not having an audience would make it easier.”
Alex’s eyebrows rose. “You’ve had the better part of a week to find him on his own, and you haven’t done it.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Jasmine glanced toward the door again. Nathan sat with his hands clasped on top of the seat back in front of him, head bowed. Praying?
And here she was supposed to be the strong one. The one in touch with God. She’d been raised in the church, after all. She’d said her prayers every night and twice on Sunday. And, yes, she knew there was more than that to being a Christian. Alex was right. She’d forgiven Basil days ago, though sometimes it was a struggle to remember it. Why was it so difficult to acknowledge her bad attitude to Nathan and ask his forgiveness?
His head lifted, and his gray eyes met hers from clear across the room. He wore a gray button-down with a black tie, and every hair on his head was gelled to perfection. He looked good. So good.
She swallowed hard and offered a tentative smile.
The lines of his face softened, and his mouth quirked up on one side. Those gray eyes warmed.
He was still waiting for her. He wouldn’t push her away.
Alex’s elbow caught her ribs.
“Stop it,” she muttered under her breath, but her legs had started moving, edging past her brother, her eyes unwilling to relinquish sight of Nathan for even an instant lest he prove to be a mirage.
A moment later she slid into the seat beside him. Warmthfrom his body beckoned her closer, and so did the musk of his cologne. “Hey,” she whispered.
“Hi, Jasmine.”
The way he said her name, so quietly, so lovingly, settled over her with peace.
She tightened her hands together on her lap until her knuckles turned white. “I want you to know I’m sorry. You were right all along. I needed to forgive Basil, and I’ve done that. He’s paying a high price for his actions — no more than he deserves, granted — but it’s not my place to hold it against him. I’m his sister, not his keeper, not his judge or jury.”
Nathan’s hand covered hers and rubbed gently, the calluses on his palms from hoeing in the gardens catching her skin. He’d kept on working, stepping in even when she didn’t want him, helping maintain Bridgeview Backyards while they waited to hear Basil’s sentence. Now they’d need to make decisions on how to manage without Basil. Figured he’d go to jail in the busiest part of the summer.
No, she was done blaming her brother. She could acknowledge his stupidity without judging him as a human being. It would take some practice.
