Fic: Jericho - A Little Divided - Part One (1) of Three

[tanaquiljall]

Title: A Little Divided
Fandom: Jericho
Rating: General
Pairings: Jake/Heather, with references to Freddy/Anna, Hawkins/Darcy, Eric/April and Eric/Mary
Warnings: None
Words: 29,580 words
Summary: A sequel to (Follows You) Back Home. Sent back in time, Jake Green has successfully prevented the September attacks—at the cost of his relationship with the woman he loves, Heather Lisinski. While he has been working to rebuild his life and his relationships with his family in this changed world, fate has thrown him back into Heather’s path and he has been able to rescue her for a second time. Having won her admiration, he now has the opportunity to win back her heart. As their relationship develops, however, he finds it increasingly hard not to mix up the past he shared with the Heather in that other life with the history he’s creating with the Heather in this one. How can he build a successful relationship with this Heather while concealing the truth of who he is and what he’s done?
Author's Note: Part of the Timetravel!verse being written by Scribbler (scribblesinink) and Tanaqui (tanaquific) and a sequel to (Follows You) Back Home Thank you to susanmarier for creating the beautiful banner and cover art for the story. Thanks also, as always, to Scribbler (scribblesinink) for the cheerleading and beta.
Disclaimer: These stories are based on the Junction Entertainment/Fixed Mark Productions/CBS Paramount Television series Jericho. They were written for entertainment only; the author does not profit from them nor was any infringement of copyright intended.



Part One

Jake peered down at the familiar landscape as he brought the four-seater Mooney in to land at Jericho Municipal Airport. Somewhere below him, Heather was getting ready to celebrate Christmas—and, in a remarkably few short hours, he’d be seeing her again. The grin that had threatened to break out ever since he’d taken off in San Diego finally got the better of him, even as he forced himself to concentrate on setting the plane down safely on the tarmac.

His father’s car was parked by the row of hangars and airport buildings as Jake taxied the plane to its parking spot, but he didn’t emerge to greet Jake until Jake had tied down the plane and was finishing his final checks. Jake couldn’t blame him: a bitterly cold wind was gusting across the flat fields. He shivered a little inside his coat, remembering how very cold it had gotten this same year in that other life, and how it had seemed like they’d never be warm again. How he’d nearly frozen to death trapped under Stanley’s truck and how icy the homes had felt when they’d gone in to check on the old and sick and find out which ones hadn’t made it through the night.

His father pulled him into a brief hug, before he stepped back, his eyes twinkling as he looked Jake over. “Good trip?” When Jake nodded, he tipped his head toward the row of buildings. “I’ve got something to show you. If you’re done?”

“Uh-huh.” Jake grabbed his bag from the cockpit and locked the door, before following his father. He realized where they were heading when they were half-way there. Hurrying for a few steps to draw level with his father, he asked, only half a question, “Grandpa’s cropduster?”

His father confirmed it with a grunt. With a sideways glance at Jake, he added, “Thought you’d want to see her. Since you didn’t get much of a chance last time you were in town, and we’re out at the airfield already.”

“Sure.” Jake shrugged a shoulder as his father reached into his pocket for the key and began unlocking the padlock securing the hangar doors. “I thought you would have sold her already.”

“She’s your plane.” His father’s words were half lost in the screech of the doors as he slid them wide enough to let them step inside. “The old man left her to you.”

“Yes, but—.” The word’s died on Jake’s lips as he caught sight of the plane. Without being fully aware of what he was doing, he stepped forward and put a hand on her lower left wing, relishing its wholeness. Last time he’d seen her had been when he’d been salvaging what he could from her battered carcass a few days after the two of them had crashed into a field on Stanley’s farm. It hadn’t been her fault: he’d been trying to get some aerial intelligence for Beck at the time, and a couple of Hoffman’s Apaches had shot him down.

Trying, if truth be told, to show Beck up and impress Heather, though he hadn’t understood that until much later: only after he’d rescued her from Constantino’s thugs and understood his feelings for her.

The plane’s red, white and blue paintwork suddenly sprang to life, bringing him out of his memories, as his father flicked on the overhead lights. “Thought maybe you’d need her to start that business you were talking about,” his father offered by way of answer to Jake’s earlier remark.

Jake huffed a wry laugh as he ran his hand over the biplane’s wing. If only that were the case. She was beautiful, in her tough, serviceable, old-fashioned way, but she wasn’t the right plane to make his dreams come true. “I wish.” He shook his head. “Reckon it’d cause quite a stir if I flew this back home. But people these days want something a bit more… modern to learn on. And I’m going to need that if I want to offer anything more than the basics.”

“You’ve been looking into it?” His father had taken his hat off and was turning it in his hands.

Jake nodded, giving the plane a last regretful pat. “Been talking to some of the guys at the field I’m based at. Trying to work out some figures. If I should get my own plane or hire one. How much business I’m likely to get. What I can charge.”

“And…?” His father raised his eyebrows expectantly

Jake stuck his hands into his pockets, not sure he wanted to share too much detail with his father. Especially as the sums were hard to make come out the way he’d have liked. Though he wasn’t going to fudge them: this was too important for him to start with hoping for the best rather than planning for the worst. “I’d be better off getting my own plane. Or a long-term lease, anyway. Either way,” Jake shrugged, “it’s going to be expensive.”

“Be cheaper here in Jericho.”

Jake stared at his father in surprise. “Sure.” He ran a hand over his head. “But there isn’t the business here. There’s, what, ten planes registered here? There’d maybe be a couple of guys a year want to learn. And you know Grandpa never made any real money from the cropdusting. Just enough to keep the plane in the air and have some fun with her. Besides, Jim Schofield’s still in business over in Goodland, right?” His father nodded to confirm it. “And he picked up all the cropdusting once Grandpa gave it up.” He shrugged. “I’m thinking I should look at some of the airfields a little further out from San Diego. There may be more opportunities there and the costs’ll be lower.

His father nodded. “Fair enough. And I know you’re not much interested in coming home. Can’t say I blame you….”

There was an undercurrent in his father’s voice that belied his light tone and caught at Jake, bringing a lump to his throat. “It’s not that, Dad,” he croaked. He swallowed. God, he’d love nothing more than to be able to come back to Jericho and start the business and woo Heather back and settle down with her. But—. “I don’t want to run this like a hobby, like Grandpa did. I want it to be a real business. The kind a man could… could support a family on.”

His father’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “I hear you.” He dipped his head toward the plane. “So I reckon you should sell her and buy something more suitable.”

“I guess.” Jake turned and took another look at the plane. “It feels kinda wrong.”

“Because she was your grandfather’s?” His father snorted. “I think the old man would’ve wanted you to sell her and buy the plane you need. Even if he was a sentimental old fool sometimes.”

Jake chuckled, still not feeling comfortable with the idea, though he knew he’d get a good price for the Stearman from the right buyer and it’d go a long way toward helping him get his own business off the ground.

His father gestured for him to step back outside into the growing dusk. “Well, that’s for another time, maybe. Come on. Your mother’s waiting and she’s been cooking up a storm all day, so you’d better come home and help me eat it.”

oOo

The smell of fresh baking filled the Green house the following morning as Jake hung around helping his mom with last-minute preparations for Christmas Day. In between the slew of questions she’d fired at him over dinner the previous evening and her own lengthy run-down of the news from Jericho, he’d gathered that Heather had promised to drop by some time during the day to thank him for his quick actions after the accident on Main Street a few weeks back. He didn’t want to miss her.

He was sitting at the dining table, polishing wine glasses while his mother kneaded bread dough for tomorrow’s cinnamon rolls, when there was a tentative-sounding knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” he told his mother hurriedly, dropping the cloth he was using and getting to his feet. But when he opened the door, he found his brother, hands full with a stack of boxes.

“Couldn’t use my key,” Eric explained, gesturing with box.

Jake hoped the disappointment he’d felt hadn’t been evident on his face; his relationship with his brother was already rocky enough.

“Come on, Eric.” April was coming up the path behind him, carrying another box. “We don’t have time to stand around talking. There’s the rest of the car to unload.”

Eric rolled his eyes at Jake and shoved the boxes into his hands, before turning round and heading back down toward their SUV parked in the street.

“Hello, Jake.” April turned her head to present her cheek to him for a kiss as she stepped through the door. Awkwardly juggling the boxes, he obliged. As he pulled back, she nodded at the boxes he carried. “Put those by the Christmas tree, would you?” Watching her sweep on past him to greet his mother, Jake suspected Eric had already been subjected to a morning of such half orders and had resented it—and that April had needed to repeatedly marshal him, like a recalcitrant toddler, in order to make any progress with what needed doing, and she wasn’t happy about that either. Looked like things weren’t any better between them than they had been in November, even if they were no worse. Setting the boxes down as directed, Jake wondered if Eric was still seeing Mary.

It was after lunch before Heather arrived. Eric and April were in the middle of an argument about—well, Jake wasn’t entirely sure what it was about and he wasn’t sure they really knew either—as he opened the door and found her hovering uncertainly on the stoop.

“Hey.” She gave him a nervous smile.

“Hey.” He grinned back at her, his heart beating a little faster as he drank in the sight of her. Her hair was a little shorter than he remembered, but her eyes were just as blue. They were filled with some anxiety—he supposed she was nervous—but she otherwise resembled the fresh-faced schoolteacher he’d first met a year or so ago in his personal timeline. Before he’d hurt her and let her go to New Bern—where Constantino and his thugs had done even more harm. Before Beck had locked her up. Before he’d realized that he’d fallen in love with her almost from the moment he’d met her.

She twisted her hands together, and he guessed he was probably making her uncomfortable with his scrutiny, but he couldn’t stop looking. She cleared her throat. “So, umm, I just wanted to thank you for—.”

Behind Jake, there was the sound of something slamming and an exasperated cry of “For goodness sake, Eric!”

Jake glanced over his shoulder and then turned back to Heather. “D’you want to go for a walk? I’d invite you in, but it’s a bit—.” He flapped a hand helplessly toward the house. Barely waiting for her answering nod, he added, “I’ll just grab my coat.”

A few moments later, having hastily told his mom where he was going, he was back outside with Heather, wrapping his scarf more tightly around his neck and shoving his hands into his gloves. Gesturing for Heather to lead the way back down the path, he turned them away from Main Street.

He went on looking at her as they walked along, still not quite able to believe he was here, that they were together at last. She glanced up at him, blushing when she met his gaze, her expression turning flustered. After they’d walked on another hundred yards, she clasped her hands together. “So, uh, I was saying. Thank you. For saving Stacey. And….” She trailed off, shooting him another nervous glance.

He shrugged. “You’re welcome. But I only did what anyone else would’ve done.”

She gave a slight chuckle. “You kept your head? Everyone else was….” She squeezed her hands together. “If you hadn’t stopped them moving things, Stacey wouldn’t have made it. And I don’t know how I would’ve lived with myself if….” She lifted on shoulder, leaving the sentence unfinished but making her meaning clear.

Jake shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault.”

She bit her lip, her head tilted slightly, the gesture so familiar—so much a part of what he’d fallen in love with in that other Heather—that it took his breath away. “I was in charge.”

“But you told them to keep in close,” he pointed out. If the little girl who’d skipped out into the road and into the path of Carl’s truck had been following her directions, none of it would have happened.

“Yes, well.” She took a deep breath. “It turned out all right and Stacey’s fine, thanks to you. So, thank you.”

She seemed content to drop the subject after that. It was something else he remembered about her, loved about her: her ability to put the past behind her and get on with life. Even when that had included dealing with him pretending she’d never kissed him and ignoring her for a month, because the kiss had been glorious and frightening in equal measure.

They walked on in silence for a while longer, taking a turning that would lead them around the edge of town and toward the East Woods. There were a hundred things Jake wanted to ask, but all of them presumed a familiarity with her that didn’t exist yet, and he didn’t know where to start. Never will get familiar if you don’t talk to her, he pointed out silently to himself. Perhaps start with things he knew the answers to already. “How long have you lived in Jericho?”

“Three and a bit years.” She smiled up at him, shyly. “But I think you’d left before I arrived.”

He returned the smile, thinking she likely already knew the answer to that as well. “A year or two before that, yes. But I suspect you’ve heard all about me by now, huh?” He twisted his mouth into a wry grin and quirked an eyebrow at her.

She blushed, but seemed to catch that he wasn’t mad about the gossip. “Uh-huh. No one had mentioned so much as a peep about you before. After the accident, seemed like no one could talk about anything else.”

“None of it good, I’m sure.” He turned his head away, gazing out over the fields that spread out to one side of them, wishing he’d time traveled far enough back to be able to convince his younger self that one day he’d need to impress a respectable Kansas schoolmistress. As it was, most people probably still blamed him for Chris’s death, especially after the way he’d skipped town, no matter what had come out later—and there’d been plenty enough grist for the gossip mill even before that.

The way it took Heather a while to answer confirmed his suspicion that she was searching for something good to say, so he was a bit surprised when she commented cautiously, almost as if afraid of contradicting or embarrassing him, “Some of it was.” He sensed her shrug. “Deputy Taylor said you could be a bit wild, but that you always took care of people. Looked after them and tried to make sure they didn’t get hurt. And people are saying you helped Stanley keep his farm. And you helped Stacey, of course. And me.”

He turned to look back at her and found her smiling up at him again. He remembered the way she’d reached out and touched him on the arm and told him they were going to be okay when he’d been worrying about getting the patients from the hospital to the mine. How she’d had faith in him even then, less than a day after they’d met. He had no real clue what he’d done to win her trust back then, but apparently she was willing to give it to him again, now. His heart beat a little faster at the thought that maybe he stood a chance with her after all.

Not that it was helping him figure out what to say to her just at the moment. They carried walking along, Jake racking his brains to remember what he had said to her before, back in that other life.

“You’re living in San Diego now?”

Heather’s question startled him from his memories, though he’d been aware of her—of her warmth, of the reality of her at his side—even as he’d delved into the past in his mind. He nodded. “Flew in yesterday.”

“Oh yes, that’s right. You’re a pilot, aren’t you?” She shot him a quick grin.“That sounds pretty exciting.”

He laughed. “That’s what everyone thinks. Mostly it’s a job, like anything else. But it’s all I’ve wanted to do, ever since I started working on my grandpa’s cropduster when I was ten. Well, that and open a flight school.”

“In San Diego?” She had her head tilted sideways again, as if she was trying to make sense of him.

“Maybe. Still trying to figure it out. Make some plans. Get some money together.” To his surprise, he found himself adding, “Maybe here in Kansas though.”

“In Wichita?”

“You know Wichita?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. He’d considered Wichita as a possible base, but it’d still mean uprooting Heather from her friends and family here in Jericho and New Bern, and he didn’t have the contacts there that he was currently building in San Diego. On the other hand, if she knew the place….

She shook her head. “Not really.” She laughed. “I just know they build a lot of planes there. We talk about it in class when we’re studying Kansas. At school, I mean.”

“Ah.” Still, Wichita was a lot closer to her friends than San Diego would be.

They walked on a little further, while Jake wondered what to say to her now. Somehow, this had all been so much easier the first time. When it hadn’t seemed to matter nearly so much. “You teach third grade, don’t you? Do you like it?”

“Uh-huh.” She smiled to herself. “It’s a nice age. They’re still… filled with wonder, you know? She shot him an embarrassed grin and he gave her a reassuring smile in return. He knew exactly what she meant; it was one of the reasons he wanted to teach people to fly: that sense of wonder, of discovering a new world you couldn’t begin to imagine with your feet on the ground.

“Did you always wanted to be a teacher?” He shoved his hands into his pockets, resisting the urge to reach out and take her hand in his as they walked.

“Pretty much.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she spoke. The gesture was so characteristic, so much her, that—between one breath and the next—Jake was once more taken back in time. Back to those long, hot summer days when he’d first returned from Texas and they’d worked together to keep Jericho safe. He remembered helping her fix Charlotte on the road out to Beck’s camp, finding excuses to stay and watch her work instead of heading back home to Emily. Too blind to see what was in front of him or to understand his own heart.

“Didn’t you want to be an engineer, once?” he asked, still smelling the dusty road and the metallic tang of engine oil and her own warm scent as she’d leaned closer to him from time to time, and remembering what they’d talked about.

“What?” Her startled question jerked him back to the present. He saw she was frowning at him. “What makes you say that?”

He swallowed, fighting down a surge of panic. Because You told me that one time really wasn’t going to cut it as an answer. “I, uh—.” He swallowed again as her expression turned puzzled. “I heard you’re pretty good with old cars? That you’ve got a, uh, an old Dodge you’re fixing up.”

“Oh, right.” She was still looking at him a little suspiciously. Then, after a moment, she relaxed and gave a low chuckle. “Though it’s not so much ‘fixing up’ as pretty much swapping out every single part and replacing most of the bodywork.”

“That bad, huh?” That chimed with his recollection of Charlotte—though Heather had kept her running pretty well, all things considered. He laughed. “And there was me thinking I was having a hard time with the heap of rust I bought.” Truth was, he’d more than once wished he’d had access to Heather’s magic touch when he’d been trying to coax a little more life out of the battered old Toyota he’d bought to replace the Roadrunner.

“What’s the problem?” Heather tipped her head toward him, sounding like she was genuinely interested in the car.

Jake gave her another wry grin. “Just too old and too many miles. But it’ll do.” He shook his head, dismissing the Toyota from his thoughts. “So what are you working on right now?”

“On Charlotte?” She shrugged. “Trying to get the transmission sorted. Would be nice to change gear without having to put her into neutral half the time.”

She went on talking as they continued their circuit of the town, making their way along the edge of the East Woods and passing by the end of The Pines. Jake prompted her with the occasional question, more than happy to listen to her describing the work she was carrying out, or had already done, or was planning to do, while he took in how beautiful she was as she spoke passionately about the car.

They’d were heading back into the center of town when she broke off from discussing the electrics and gave him a puzzled look.

He lifted his eyebrows. “What?”

Red spots colored her cheeks. “I was just thinking. Most guys…. Well, they’d have wanted to talk to me about their cars. Not listen to me babbling on about mine.”

Jake grinned at her. “I’m not most guys.”

“No, I guess, you’re not. Oh—!” They’d slowed to a halt and turned to face each other, and now she was looking over his shoulder. Her frown deepened a little. “This is—.” She turned her gaze back on to him, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How did you know where I live?”

“Uh….” Jake realized that he’d unconsciously led them back to her house. He lifted a hand and scratched the back of his neck while he quickly searched for an excuse. “Mom must’ve told me.”

Heather still looked a little uncertain but seemed willing to accept the lie. She clasped her hands in front her. “Well, I enjoyed the walk. Thank you. And thank you again for… before.” She gave him a half smile to go with the oblique reference to his ‘heroics’.

He smiled back, thinking he should probably say goodbye and head back home. The light was fading fast, and his family would be expecting him back. But he didn’t want to leave. Heather looked like she wasn’t quite sure what to do next, either. Was she wondering if he expected her to invite him in? He’d seen that the low house behind him was dark, the curtains still open, and it looked lonely and empty, though Jake supposed it would look homey enough once she’d turned on the lights and put a match to the fire. He remembered that she’d told him she had no family, her parents having passed a few years before, and he wondered whether she’d be spending Christmas on her own.

“Would you—?” He checked, thinking that an invitation to join his family for dinner that evening or on Christmas Day itself would be too much, too fast. He didn’t think his mom would mind another mouth at the table, but he suspected Heather would feel out of place and uncomfortable. And yet he was only here for another day before he’d have to fly back to San Diego—and it would be months before he had a chance to see her again. He cleared his throat and amended his question to, “Could I see you again tomorrow?” When her eyes opened wide in surprise, he hastily added, “If you don’t have other plans, of course. We could go for another walk, if you like.”

“I—.” She seemed lost for words.

“Please.” He stepped forward and put his hand over hers. “I’m only in Jericho for another day and… and I’d really like to see you again.”

She took a deep breath and then nodded.

“After lunch? Say… three o’clock? I’ll come pick you up….”

She nodded again. “Sure.” She sounded a little hoarse.

He gazed down at her, aware of her hands under his, aware of how close she was. He fought the urge to lean closer still and kiss her. Definitely too soon for that. But, oh God, how he wanted to….

She cleared her throat and pulled her hands away, taking a step back. “Tomorrow, then.”

He nodded, shoving his own hands into his coat pockets to stop him catching at her as she brushed past him and headed up the path toward the house. He turned around so he could watch her go inside, wanting to keep sight of her for as long as possible. She glanced back over her shoulder at him as she reached the stoop, and her face broke out into a smile when she saw he was looking. She shyly half-raised a hand, before she turned away and disappeared inside. A moment later, he saw a light come on.

Reluctantly he swung away—standing there watching her draw the curtains would be altogether too creepy—and began making his way back toward his parents’ house. He felt breathless and a little dizzy, and happier than he had done in months.

Part One (2) of "A Little Divided" | Part Two of "A Little Divided" | Part Three of "A Little Divided"