Page 13 of Mountain Freedom
I blew out a breath. What had I gotten myself into?
Chapter Four
Jackson
After a mostly satisfyingday on the job—a quiet day in Rosemary Mountain where the biggest problem to deal with was breaking up a bar fight—I headed to the pub to grab some dinner. It beat being home alone, and I was bound to run into a buddy or two. John O’Malley, the owner, gave a hefty discount to members of law enforcement, making it one of our favorite places to eat. He considered it a good investment, as our presence also ensured he rarely had trouble from any rowdy tourists. Not that he couldn’t handle it himself. The gentle giant was legendary for making troublemakers wash dishes.
“Hey, Big John,” I called out, stopping at the bar to say hello before heading to my regular booth.
“Hey, young Jackson,” John said, giving me a wave. “Want your usual tonight?”
“You know it.”
John gave me a nod and turned to pour me a glass of the Irish red he kept on tap, while I swallowed back the cringe that alwayscame when he called me “young Jackson.” He couldn’t know that Russell always called me that. It was a phrase I detested, despite knowing it was a term of affection from John. He’d shown me nothing but respect and kindness since I’d returned to Rosemary Mountain a few years back.
I leaned against the bar while I waited and turned to face the room, scanning it automatically. But my gaze stopped when it landed on a face that was both unfamiliar and so familiar I’d know it anywhere.
Allison Bell.
Gone was the girl I had once known, yet somehow, I’d still know her anyway. She had grown up into a beautiful woman. That blonde hair that had always lit up a room was a tad darker now. Tonight, it was loose around her shoulders. Simple and chic. But I still remembered when she used to wear it in pigtails and how fun it had been to chase her, tugging on them when I beat her in hide-and-seek.
John placed my beer down. “Something caught your eye over there?” he asked mildly, never one to miss a beat.
“Just an old friend,” I said. “Haven’t seen her since we were kids. It brings back a hell of a lot of memories.” The best ones. In fact, the only good ones from my life back then. The ones that were all painted golden from Tennessee sunshine and Allison’s hair.
“You should go say hi,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
“I think I will.” I grabbed my beer and walked her way, feeling suddenly nervous. Would she even remember me? Those years might not have meant as much to her. She had been my lifeline, but she might have only seen me as another trailer park kid, one in a hundred sad stories. God knows we had no shortage of those in my neck of the woods.
Her eyes stayed focused on her tablet. As I approached, she scribbled notes to herself with an electronic pen. I stopped right in front of her table.
“Allison Bell,” I said, unable to stop the grin that appeared from just saying her name. “Never thought I’d see you again.” I shoved my free hand into my pocket to stop from reaching out and tugging on those golden locks.
Shock filled her eyes first. Then a huge smile broke out on her face. “Jackson Sharp. Oh my goodness! I almost didn’t recognize you. You’re all grown up now.”
I grinned again. “So are you. And it’s Jackson Ford now. Adopted,” I explained at the confused look on her face.
That look of confusion changed to relief and understanding. “Wow. We do have a lot to catch up on then. A new last name, huh? Lucky you.” There was a flash of pain in her eyes, making me think her own last name had already caused some discomfort. “So, JacksonFord, what has it been, fifteen years?”
“Try closer to twenty,” I said, laughing.
“No way. I’m not that old,” she teased. “Sit down! Catch me up on everything. Gosh, it seems like yesterday, doesn’t it? But so much has changed. And apparently in a good way for you,” she said, gesturing at my deputy’s uniform before closing the tablet and tucking it into her tote bag.
I accepted the invitation, sliding into the booth across from her. It was hard to believe that we were both really here all these years later.
“Yep,” I said, nodding as I braced my elbows on the table. “Things turned out okay for me. Not long after you left town, I got put into foster care again, for good this time. Probably saved my life. Ended up getting adopted by some great folks—you’d love them. Moved to Nashville, where they were from, but came back to the mountain a few years ago. Draws you back, you know?”
“Apparently,” she said with a sheepish smile. “Whether you mean for it to or not.”
“Looks like things turned out well for you, too,” I said, raising my glass in a toast. “Rumor has it you’re a doctor now.”
She flushed up prettily. “I sure am. Finally finished my residency this year.”
“So it’s true you’re taking over Doc Rogers’s old practice?”
She nodded. “For now, at least. I got the call just when I was looking for something new, so I said yes. But”—a shadow crossed her face—“I’ll admit I didn’t give it a lot of thought before accepting the position. I’m not sure it was the best idea.”
“Interesting,” I said, raising my eyebrows. “Rough adjustment?”
