A/N: Once again I must apologize for the delay in updating with a new chapter. This has been the hardest chapter for me to write, and edit for that matter. Also I've been suffering from an illness the last couple of months. Thanks so much to all of you still hanging in with me and my story. I hope you keep with me and enjoy this new chapter. tc

Chapter 8: Fury

Jasper sat alone in his car with his head against the headrest, his eyes closed and breathing deeply. Normally the car stereo would be blaring with his favorite Bob Marley CD, but out of respect for where he was, he left it off. He was parked across from her grave on the narrow road that wove its way throughout the cemetery. He went there often to bring her flowers and to watch over her a little. He brought flowers with him this day even though this day was different. Watching over her was the farthest thing from his mind. His head was reeling. He didn't know what to make of what he saw earlier that morning…

His plan was a simple one. He would slip in and slip back out again before anyone knew he was there; in particular her. But that plan unfortunately went up in smoke the moment Jasper stepped inside and found Alex still home. In fact, she was still in bed sound asleep. For several long seconds he stood frozen at the foot of her bed; staring down at her as she slept.

"Damn, what is she still doing here?" Jasper said under his breath. He checked his watch quickly. "Why wasn't she at the diner?" He needed to leave. He couldn't let her wake up and find him there. Before he could get out though, he realized that he was not only staring at her, but at himself as well. At his face anyway; over and over and over again. Covering the surface of her bed atop of which she laid, were numerous pictures of himself.

He knew it. He knew there was something about her he didn't trust; with good reason. Several in fact. He began ticking them off in his head. First, this strange girl shows up out of nowhere and takes over Sam's job at Mabel's. Strike one. Then she rents his room out from under him; though his parents would disagree. Strike two. Now he finds her with pictures of him all over the bed. That was strike three and she's out as far as he was concerned. But what could he do about her, and not piss off his parents? Unfortunately the answer to that question would have to wait. If he didn't leave quickly, he was going to have to explain why he was standing in the middle of her room while she was sleeping. He made it out in the nick of time.

o00Oo

Alex began to stir as the door to her room quietly clicked shut. She awoke to the eerie sensation that someone was watching her. When she was fully alert, she looked around, and found no one there. She chuckled to herself when she realized all of the pictures of Jasper she had been looking over the night before were still scattered around her. It's probably just them, she concluded. She began gathering them up, and again was struck by them. The portrait they conveyed and the features they revealed. The high angular cheekbones, the strong square jaw line, and the slightly dimpled chin showed through the overall youth in his face. Then there were those eyes, with their full brow and long thick dark lashes; like brushes, concealing sensitive, troubled, and very sad orbs of which could easily be mistaken for pools of black ink. Eyes that shifted from dark to light and back again. Eyes that stared out into the distance; a thousand miles, maybe a million? Just how far out did those eyes see, Alex wondered. And what were they seeing?

Her fascination with his eyes continued even while she finished scooping up the pictures and tucking them away. She wasn't due at the diner until early afternoon. It worked out good for her that she drew the later shift, because she nearly forgot there was a project awaiting her attention. Michael Elliott, Managing Editor of "Land & Leisure Magazine" out of Boston, offered her an assignment if she wanted it. She had made a promise to contact him within a week. That week was almost up and she still needed to do that. So lounging about all mourning was not an option. She showered, got dressed and headed out; meeting Mrs. Arnold and little Robin on their way out.

"Good morning", Alex greeted them both as she trotted down the stairs.

"Hi Alex!" Robin responded excitedly.

"Good morning Alex", said Mrs. Arnold as she hurried her daughter into her truck. "Are you running late today?"

"No, not really. I have the later shift today."

"Lucky you."

"Yeah."

"Can I give you a ride anywhere?" Mrs. Arnold offered.

"I'm good. I have a couple things I need to do and I can walk. The exercise couldn't hurt. Can I help you with those?" Alex noticed the boxes on the ground next to the Arnold's truck.

"No, it's fine. There's only these two. Haven't seen much of you since you came to us. Did the move-in go okay?"

"It went fine thank you."

"Good I'm glad. Although…" Mrs. Arnold paused. She was clearly in a hurry, yet she made a point to go over to Alex before continuing. "We expected to see you for dinner or breakfast at least by now."

"I don't want to be any trouble."

Mrs. Arnold reassuringly put her arm around Alex's shoulder. "You won't be any trouble at all."

Her motherly gesture took Alex aback. Her and her own mother weren't able to spend as much time together as they used to. She missed her. She missed the marathon conversations they used to have over brunch.

"So when can we expect you?" Mrs. Arnold asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"I don't want to wear out my welcome", she said quickly recovering.

"If Pete hasn't worn out his welcome by now, you certainly won't. Besides meals are included with the room, remember." Another one of Alex's unintentional protests countered. "So we'll be seeing you for dinner tonight." Mrs. Arnold ordered. Alex started to protest a third time, but was stopped. "No, not another word. I'll expect to see you at 7:00 tonight. Right?"

"Yes, ma'am." Alex raised both hands in mock surrender.

Dinner arrangements being settled, Mrs. Arnold remembered she was in a hurry. She rushed back to her truck, loaded the two boxes into the back, and checked on Robin to make sure she was buckled in safely before climbing into the truck herself. She drove off with a smile back at Alex; who was now left standing alone in the middle of the driveway.

An hour later Alex was sending off an email to Michael Elliott, outlining her plans and ideas for the assignment he proposed. He wanted new samples of her work and she advised him that she could get them to him within the next few days. The plans for the proposed assignment came to her on her walk from the Arnold's farm to the Putnam Library.

Putnam was a small town but it was surrounded by great landscapes. No better example of which, was the view of the nighttime, moonlit lake behind the Cavanaugh's home. She could send sample photographs of that view to the magazine. If they still wanted to use her work, even nearing the end of winter with trees still barren, Putnam would show itself off beautifully.

Alex knew she needed to get a lot done in a little time. She needed to get together with Jenny about using the Cavanaugh's back porch. Take her pictures. Get them processed at the high school's photo lab. And finally, express mail them off to Boston. The anticipation of all she needed to take care of felt good. She was starting to feel that she was letting herself drift a little too far away from her craft and her profession.

o00Oo

Jasper's gestures were slow and deliberate; gentle and delicate as he placed the bouquet of flowers against her headstone. It was the same bouquet, devoid of yellow roses, he always brought her. It was quiet where she was and very peaceful. She had this small area all to herself. Her family thought she'd like it that way. There would be plenty of open space for her great spirit. But still be gracefully shaded and protected by the expansive branches of a full grown Birch tree; her favorite.

He wanted to leave, to turn around and walk away. After all it was his usual routine. He would bring flowers to her and then he would drive back to Mabel's to be where he could still almost feel her. This day was different, though. This day he was in no real hurry to leave her. Nor was he in any hurry to get to Mabel's. It wasn't the same for him anymore anyway. Instead, he sat himself down on a soft grassy mound next to her grave. Though the ground beneath him was cold, with no snow so far this year, he was thankful the grass wasn't wet.

The cool smoothness of her headstone was only interrupted by the rough edges of the etchings carved into the granite. Jasper ran his long slender fingers along the epitaph; first tracing over her name……

Samantha Anne Cavanaugh

He moved on to the tribute to her……

Beloved Daughter and Sister

We Will Love You and Miss You Always

"Hey Sam", Jasper spoke slowly. "It's only me. I know it's been a couple of days. I'm sorry. I brought you some more flowers. I hope you like them." Jasper sat silent for a long time before resuming his one-sided conversation with Samantha.

"I don't know if anyone's been keeping you up on things around here but -- someone was hired to take over for you at the diner. It's been a few weeks now. It was really hard for your parents to accept that they needed some help. Mabel's is as busy as always. Your Mom was forced to finally put a sign up a few months ago. Your Dad wasn't happy about that at all."

Chit-Chat, small talk, was never Jasper's style. He visited Samantha's grave often. But before this visit, he never spoke to her. This time he found himself wanting to talk to her; needing to talk to her. And once he got started, he couldn't stop himself. "I miss you Sam." Jasper raised his fingers to his lips, kissed them, and touched them to her name again. "I wish I didn't. It's too hard. Sometimes I think it'd be easier if I hated you. Maybe I do a little." The slow burning that was an anger Jasper hadn't realized he'd been nursing was suddenly boiling over.

"I do hate you. I hate you for dying Sam. I hate you for not telling me you were sick again. You let me hear it from Pete. Vanessa told him. You let me hear a lot of things about you then from Pete. You know what else? I hate you for letting that guy, that Ralston asshole, trash what we had between us!" Jasper couldn't bring himself to call Kelly by his name.

"Damnit Sam! What happened to you? What happened to us? You could of talk to me you know. Before your little bus trip to Boston Before Pete caught you making out in the back of the store. And what about before graduation night; you know when Richie Rich first showed up to screw with what I thought we had. You know the same night you were just too busy doing your sister a favor to take a few minutes to carve up with me. It's not like we hadn't known each other ever since we were little kids.

"We broke up and I still don't know why. All you could come up with that night at the bus station was that you couldn't be with me. What the hell was that? What did you want from me, Sam? Did you get it from Richie? And what about when he left, huh? He knew you were sick and he left. I was still there Sam. Even though I knew I wasn't who you wanted. You remember that day at the hospital? I do. You don't bluff very well Samantha. I remember standing in the doorway to your room, seeing your face. You were so excited and so disappointed in the flash of what, a second? Did you think I didn't see that? Did you think I missed it? I was such an idiot. I was even dumb enough to try to help"….

Jasper was moving one hay bail after another from one side of the barn to another, when Kelly appeared in the open barn door.

"How's she doing?" He asked of Jasper; suspecting he'd been to see her.

Not being distracted from his task, Jasper answers sharply. "If you care so much, why don't you go down and see her."

"What's it to you?" Kelly demanded.

That was enough for Jasper to re-focus his full attention on his rival. He approached Kelly, stood toe to toe with him, and answered. "Cause I do care about her. And for whatever reason she needs you", he went on while turning to walk away.

"I'm supposed to stay?" Kelly asks incredulously; stopping Jasper in his tracks. "I'm not from Putnam, remember!" He calls to Jasper's back, forcing him to turn and come back at his rival again. Kelly stood his ground and declared, "I have a life to get back to."

Jasper eyed Kelly in bewilderment. He couldn't believe this rich asshole was standing in his face whining about his life, while Samantha laid in a hospital bed fighting for hers. In his disbelief he admitted, "Do you know how much it kills me every time I see her look at you? Every time that I hear her say your name for Christ's sake?" The pain Jasper was feeling for his lost love could be heard in each crack of his voice. He continued. "But no matter how much it tears me up inside to see you with her, the one thing that I want right now, is for you to get over your shit so that you can be with her. Because she needs you right now! And whether you want to admit it or not, you need her too."

"You do not know what I need. You don't know anything about me", Kelly responded in his own defense.

A new realization dawned on Jasper. "Well I know a lot more now don't I", he stated simply before throwing his gloves to the ground in disgust at Kelly's feet. Jasper turned his back on Kelly one last time; leaving him standing alone to watch Jasper bare-handedly go back to moving hay bails….

"I was dumb enough to try to help", Jasper repeated to himself. "You want to know why, Sam? Because all I ever wanted to do was love you! I still love you. You and me Sam, remember? We were real. We had always been real. Or was it all just bullshit. Was it ever real for you?" Jasper paused as if waiting for an answer that would never come.

"Now that I think about it, those last few months we were together before him, before Richie, why'd you stay? You weren't happy. It was all over your face. Every time I touched you. Every time I kissed you. You and Richie must have been laughing your asses off. It was supposed to be you and me Sam. Nobody knew you like I did. Nobody saw you like I saw you. After all we'd been through for Christ's sake – you still went to him. We were meant to be together." Jasper rambled on before he let out a heavy sigh. He felt spent. "I guess I'm not that good a friend after all."

Jasper climbed slowly back to his feet, and standing close to his full height, he stared down at her grave. After several long moments, with his shoulders slumped and his head bowed, he walked back to his car. He crossed the narrow road and stopped. With another heavy sigh, came a very loud crash. Before Jasper realized it, he had smashed his hand through the driver's side window of his car. Broken pieces of glass littered the inside and the ground outside. Among the glass shards covering his car's seat, he saw droplets and splashes of crimson red. When he pulled his hand back he saw it was covered with shallow cuts and several deeper ones. He watched as his blood ran freely from his wounds. Watched as the deep red flow fell, splattered, and stained the shattered glass at his feet.

END OF CHAPTER #8

A/N: "Land & Leisure Magazine" is purely fictitious. Any resemblance to an actual magazine in contents or name is accidental.