Free Saving Sara (Redemption #1) by Nicola Marsh Page B

happiness.
    As for women, his deliberate dating drought suited him fine. If he couldn’t muster enthusiasm for much in his life, he’d be useless with a woman. Until he dealt with his guilt, he couldn’t move on.
    When Sara had looked at him with that mix of fear and sorrow, a certainty in his gut told him she knew the feeling.
    “Is there a husband in the picture?”
    “No.” Cilla’s eyes narrowed, fixing him with a disapproving glare. “Issy didn’t think much of him. Said she’d only seen him once, at the wedding, that he never came to visit. An uptight city type, according to Issy. More in love with his cell than with anyone else, apparently. Didn’t have much time for Sara or their daughter.”
    Jake couldn’t fathom the relief at Cilla’s pronouncement. He had no intention of starting anything while he was in town, least of all with a grieving mother. “Then she’s better off without him.”
    “Issy agreed.” Cilla picked up a bunch of thyme and tied it with a string. “What about you? Anyone special in your life?”
    Jake shook his head. “Relationships aren’t my thing.”
    Cilla frowned. “Never been close to marriage?”
    “I’d need to be in a long-term relationship for that to happen, so no.” Increasingly uncomfortable with discussing his lack of interest in forming a lasting bond with a woman, he pushed off the bench. “Give me a holler if you need help in here.”
    Thankfully, she accepted his abrupt change of topic.
    “I’ve been doing this on my own for a while, but thanks.” She turned back to her mint and basil and rosemary, effectively dismissing him. “But remember what I said: Sara needs time to heal.”
    According to the shrink he’d seen at work to debrief, the day of the crash, he did too.
    No one understood the darkness he struggled with on a dai ly basis.
    Who knew—maybe he and Sara could heal together.
    Mentally chastising himself for being foolish, he bounded up the back steps and into the kitchen, to find Olly hunched over the dining table, crayons scattered across it.
    For the first time since he’d taken custody of Olly, his nephew’s face lit up at the sight of him.
    “Uncle Jake, check this out.” Olly bounced up and down in his chair, brandishing a folded piece of paper with a giant red balloon on the front. “I’ve made a card for Sara to cheer her up.”
    Jake’s chest ached for this incredibly intuitive boy who wanted to make someone else happy, when he still must be feeling disoriented himself.
    He crossed the kitchen to crouch next to Olly. “That’s great, buddy.”
    Olly grinned. “Want to see the inside?”
    “You bet.”
    Olly opened the card with a flourish. “I hope Sara likes sharks. Because that’s what I drew. And seaweed. And some fish. See?”
    Jake looked at the colorful drawings and his chest constricted further. “It’s brilliant, Olly. Really great.”
    “Thanks.” Olly shrugged like Jake’s praise meant little. “But I think you should give it to her. I might make her cry again.” Olly’s smile waned. “Mom cries sometimes too. At night, when she thinks I can’t hear her, but I do. It makes me sad.”
    Jake wanted to bundle Olly into his arms and squeeze him tight. But Olly rarely tolerated more than a hair ruffle the last few days and he didn’t want to push the tentative bond they’d formed.
    He straightened and slid onto the chair next to Olly. “You know, buddy, we all get sad sometimes. And crying is a way to express that sadness. It’s normal.”
    Olly studied him with solemnity. “Do you cry?”
    Jake nodded, remembering the night of the plane crash, when he’d barely made it through his front door before breaking down and sobbing like a baby. Compared to the tears he’d shed in private as a kid, after another of his dad’s brutal putdowns, it had been a doozy of a crying jag.
    “Yeah, when I’m really sad.”
    “Me too,” Olly whispered, glancing over his shoulder like he didn’t want anyone else