Page 28 of Mountain Freedom
“Don’t worry,” he said, flashing his grin at me. “You’re with me. Gives you street cred.”
I just raised an eyebrow and fell into step beside him as he took me to meet the mayor.
An hour later,I squeezed Jackson’s hand and mouthedthank youto him. He had made the rounds, introducing me to nearly everyone in the room as Dr. Allison Bell, and people had responded more warmly than I had expected. A few people even asked about my mother and said they hoped she was doing well. Nobody mentioned my father, a fact that made me incredibly grateful. By the time Jackson was finished making introductions, I was actually starting to enjoy myself.
But the highlight of the night was getting to meet Dr. Johnson again and thanking him for giving me a chance. He was older now—mid-sixties probably—but somehow just as handsome as ever. He knew me before Jackson even had a chance to introduce us, and he beamed as he shook my hand.
“Allison Bell. Of course. I’d know you anywhere. You’re the spitting image of your mother.” His eyes seemed to linger on me with a trace of feeling.
“Thank you,” I said, pleased with the compliment. And pleased again to be associated with my mother rather than my father.
“How’s the clinic treating you?” he asked. He cocked his head and gave me a look of interest, letting me know he wasn’t asking simply to be polite.
I moved my head back and forth in a noncommitted way. “It’s going alright,” I said carefully.
He raised his eyebrows and leaned forward conspiratorially. “You can be honest with me, Allison. I know that clinic has a reputation for being difficult.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “But I believe in you. You can turn it around. And if I can be of any assistance to you, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you,” I said, beyond grateful to have another ally in the medical community. If I was going to change things, I’d need all the help I could get.
I started to tell him about my idea for a drug treatment program, but mid-conversation, an elegantly dressed woman pulled him away for a dance.
At almost the same time, a gray-haired lady leaning heavily on her walking cane approached Jackson. “Young man, you owe me a dance,” she said, wagging her finger at him.
“I did promise, didn’t I?” he replied, smiling as he held his arm out for her. “Be right back,” he told me.
“I’ll be here,” I said. “And I get the next dance.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Absolutely.”
I stayed on the side,watching him slowly waltz the fragile lady around the room. She couldn’t have been more than four feet tall, and he had to stoop over to dance with her. But she was grinning from ear to ear, and the sight made me smile. Jackson wasn’t just good at managing the community. He genuinely cared about them, and it was sweet to see.
“I wouldn’t get your heart set on that one,” said a voice beside me.
I looked and was surprised to see the woman who had just pulled Dr. Johnson away for a dance—a dance that apparentlyhadn’t lasted long. I automatically glanced at her hands and noticed an over-the-top diamond wedding ring on her finger.
“Oh, Jackson?” I asked. “We’re just friends.”
“Good,” she said, nodding. “Because Jackson’s a good man, and he could do a hell of a lot better than a Bell.” She turned on her heel and walked away.
My face flushed hot and pain squeezed my heart. Her cruel comment was humiliating—a reminder of who I was and always would be in the eyes of everyone here.
When Jackson returned, he frowned at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said shakily. I smoothed down the front of my dress, trying to get myself under control. “Who is that?” I asked, pointing at the woman who now had her back toward us.
He glanced over. “Red dress?”
“Yeah.”
“Penny Johnson. Dr. Johnson’s wife. Why?” he asked, giving me a strange look. “Did she say something to you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, glancing back toward the direction she had walked.
She was staring at me, her lips set in a thin line.
