Sanctuary

[Jensen James]

Gov. Jessika Thrice

Jessika held her breath a moment before pulling the massive doors open in one smooth swing. The car rolled to a stop just as she descended the steps, but the windows were too tinted to make out the faces within. Her heart fluttered despite the seriousness of the situation in a most irritating way. Rather than wring her hands impatiently, she focused on a steady breath and a fixing a warm smile to her lips. Open hearts, big hair and good food were the mainstays of a good Texan hostess, and Governor or otherwise, Jessika was the best.

The guests emerged one at a time, and the weight of her gaze judged each one. An older couple whom she presumed to be Mr. and Mrs. Carpenter knuckled backs and looked like they could use a good cup of coffee. A young girl followed with circles under her eyes and cheeks pale. The little sister, Jessika imagined, the one that needed asylum. Another followed, but this one was a lady rather than a girl despite the flatness of her hair and gauntness of her cheeks. The European aristocrat, Jessika made sure to tilt her chin ever so slightly. The poor thing didn’t look like much of an aristocrat despite the formal finery of her appearance.

The soldier was next. A handsome one to be sure, that given a shave and shower might be enough to make a woman stare. Fit, powerful and dangerous, Jessika had to remind herself that the reason for her fluttering heart was not Jay Carpenter just to peel her eyes off of him. There would be more opportunity to dissect he who might be called a traitor later. Perhaps it was a harsh title, but Jessika was quite liberal with such assignments. Some would call her a traitor as well, the Govenror who sought to splinter Texas from the union. General Lee would be proud.

Finally, her doleful husband rounded the vehicle. Jensen looked like he could use a haircut and a facial, but the intensity of his gaze crushed her heart just like it did in high school. She was a fool for it, given the sham that was their marriage. Anger should flood the soul, not solitude and sadness, but Jensen roused the simple country girl from within when the politician should want to see her squashed.

For now, she was content that her long-lost husband was home.

“Howdy ya'll,” she widened her arms as though to pull all of the group into a motherly embrace.
“you must be exhausted with that long drive. Please come inside and find some comfort. Breakfast is on the table and we’ll find all of you a place to fresh up as we fill up those empty bellies,” her drawl was sophisticated, her eyes sparkling. Jessika went to greet each guest in turn, shaking hands and warmly clasping wrists until she was certain each felt at home.

“I am Jessika. Come in, come in.”

She led them into the house as a couple of young men came out to retrieve the various luggages stowed in the vehicle’s trunk.