Justifying Jack (The Wounded Warriors Book 2) by Simone Beaudelaire, J.M. Northup Page B

explained.
    “Your mom is a wise lady,” he replied, climbing down and crouching so he was at eye level to the beautiful child. He accepted the grubby handful, watching an ant as it ran onto his fingers before he surreptitiously brushed it away.
    “I know,” the girl responded simply, her countenance matter-of-fact. Then, eyeing his leg uncertainly, she asked, “Are you still hurt?”
    The frankness of children.
“Yes, honey,” he replied. “It still hurts. I got a really bad cut, but thankfully, it's healing more every day. I'm sure these flowers will help a lot, so thank you.”
    She beamed. “God always gives us what we need.”
    “That He does, darling,” he agreed.
    “Elena!” A disapproving shout came from the playground monitor. “Stop bothering Mr. Nelson.”
    “It's all right, Lacey” he called back. “She's not bothering me.”
    “Well, we're going in right now,” the older woman snapped, her thin lips set in a line so crinkled Jack could see it from across the playground. “Come here, Elena.”
    Elena eyed the grumpy woman skeptically, hesitant to move closer to her, and then threw her arms around Jack, nearly knocking him into the dirt. “I'm glad you're getting better,” she said before running off to rejoin her class.
    Jack grinned.
I love kids.
Then his smile faded, disappearing behind the clouds of sorrow shadowing his mind, just as real clouds covered the afternoon sun.
    * * *
    “Did you see that?” Shonda Nelson demanded, gawking out of the church office's window.
    As if I could have missed it.
“Looks like my daughter has a crush on your son,” Marithé commented, trying to sound casual.
    “No, I don't think it's that,” Shonda replied, a hint of hope in her voice. She returned to her desk with a gleaming smile, unable to hide her mirth.
    And I know what you think, ma'am, but I don't need a matchmaker.
“It's nice they're friends,” Marithé tried to mitigate the connection that was so clearly obvious.
    “Hmmm,” Shonda stifled a chuckle. “Are you and my son
friends
too?” Marithé gave her a look of derision, causing the older woman to throw her hands up in surrender. “Sorry. Sorry, it's not my business.”
    “I'm not interested in
anyone
. I don't need additional complications in my life, particularly ones that involve the heart,” Marithé stated firmly.
    “Uh-huh,” Shonda looked away, feigning interest in something on her computer screen.
    No seriously, I don't.
But her heart wouldn't stop pounding from the sight of Elena and Jack together, comfortable as family. And it went into overdrive when Jack entered the room.
    “Mom, do you have something I can put these in?” Jack held the collection of weeds Elena had given him towards his mother.
    “I think I have just the thing.” Shonda shot a knowing glance at Marithé. Getting up to take the flowers from his hand, she announced to no one in particular, “I'm running to the kitchen, but I'll be back in just a moment.”
    Shonda slipped out of the room, winking at Marithé as she did, provoking the young woman's cheeks to flush crimson. Marithé gave the older woman an exasperated look, but Shonda ignored it, leaving the sound of giggles trailing down the hallway.
    “Mom's in a good mood today,” Jack grinned, gazing out the door after his mother.
    “Oh, yeah,” Marithé smiled sweetly. “She saw Elena give you the flowers through the window.”
She has grandchildren on her mind.
Marithé felt her face grow hotter with the thought.
    “Ah,” he nodded in understanding. “Makes sense. I can tell you, she wasn't the only one whose day was brightened by that precious girl.”
    “Elena is a very kind-hearted child,” Marithé couldn't deny the truth.
I am very proud of her.
“She reminds me a lot of Jorge.”
    The corners of Jack's mouth turned up, but his eyes looked pained. “Yeah, I can see it too. She's a lot like her father, although you shouldn't discount your influence.”
    “I think the only