Believe in Me: A Rosewood Novel (41 page)

Owen saw Jordan duck her head and squeeze her eyes shut. His hand slid up to her shoulder and kneaded it.

“Want me to come up, Margot?” Travis was already rising to his feet.

Margot nodded. “With you there she might actually open the door. As for getting her to talk to us, well, you know what she’s like.”

“Yup. As stubborn as you.” He smiled gently. “But I don’t think it matters if she doesn’t want to talk tonight. At the moment what she needs is to know how much we love her.”

“That’s true. You’re a wise man, Travis Maher,” Margot said softly and slipped her hand in his.

“On rare occasions,” he said. “Come on, babe, let’s go do what we can to stop Nicole’s poison from spreading.”

After Margot and Travis left, Jordan’s hold on her emotions slipped. Choked sobs rocked her bowed back.

Owen didn’t hesitate. Lifting her off the wooden chair, he settled her in his lap and then wrapped his arms about her, cradling her as she cried.

“It’s all my fault, I’ve made Jade so unhappy,” she whispered into the column of his neck. “I was so stupid, staring at the computer and thinking about the house and you and whether you’d like a particular piece when I should have been listening to her. If I’d just focused, I would have gone and found the damned shirt myself.”

“Shh, Jade will make it through this. She’s a tough kid. And Travis is right. She’s got a lot of people who love her. And she loves you all in return.”

“You should have seen her face. She looked so lost, Owen. So hurt. And she’s going to torture herself by reading her mother’s diary over and over again. How will she ever be able to erase those careless words from her memory?”

“Give her time, Jordan,” he said. And then because he couldn’t stand to see her tears, he raised his hands to frame her face and began kissing them away.

Screw the damn baby powder, he thought. Nothing was as important as making Jordan feel better.

Though he’d kissed her tears dry and lifted her spirits enough that she managed a wan smile when he gave her a last, lingering good-night kiss and a whispered, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” his own worries came crashing down on him as he made the short drive back to Hawk Hill.

Disliking messy emotions, he’d always taken care to avoid serious relationships. So why, with the Jade crisis offering
a perfect excuse to leave, had he remained by Jordan’s side? What had happened to quash his excellent sense of self-preservation? A simple “I can see this is a family matter,” or some similar line, would have gotten him out of there. Yet he’d stayed at Rosewood precisely because Jordan was upset and dealing with a messy, serious problem.

And in his need to comfort, he’d disregarded his own dismay at discovering the scent he considered possibly the most erotic in the world was nothing more than talcum powder.

The discovery that Jordan used baby powder to make her irresistible might seem silly and superficial. But what the powder represented was not: babies, commitment, roots. Everything Owen had previously made an art of avoiding. He’d recognized the warning signs flashing around Jordan from the first but arrogantly ignored them. Now he didn’t know whether, in his complex and ever-expanding need for her, he was losing sight of who he was and what he’d always thought he wanted in life.

He passed the night staring wide-eyed at the ceiling in his Hawk Hill bedroom, wondering what the hell to do. Could he be everything he wanted to be when he was with Jordan and yet remain recognizable to himself?

And what of the neat plan he’d laid out for his life, a plan as finely drawn, balanced, elegant, and pleasing as one of his architectural renderings? As organized and efficient as she was, Jordan’s life was as messy and complicated as one of Max’s crayon drawings of Felix driving the tractor.

Owen just couldn’t see himself in that kind of picture.

O
NLY ABLE
to shut out anguished thoughts of Jade for a few brief hours, Jordan awoke as exhausted as when sleep had finally claimed her. Luckily, the children, their tanks full of morning energy, didn’t notice the long looks and mute head shakes she exchanged with Travis and Margot at breakfast.

“At least we have Charlottesville this weekend,” Margot said with determined cheerfulness as she poured orange juice into everyone’s glasses. “She should do really well with Sweet William. And maybe bring home a couple of blue ribbons with Aspen.”

“Depending on how Gypsy Queen goes in the warm-up, I might put Jade on her for the preliminary jumper class,” Travis said.

“That’s an excellent idea. Now if we can just keep her busy until Saturday morning.”

“I was thinking of asking her if she wanted to go shopping this afternoon,” Jordan said. “Miriam can watch the kids.”

“But we have our riding lesson with Jade.”

“Jade might not be able to give you one today, Kate,” Jordan replied. “But I’m going to see whether Ned has some time. You know Ned taught Jade, Margot, and me to ride.”

“Can we come shopping with you and Jade, Mommy?”

“Some other day, Max. I’d like to spend some special time with Jade.”

“Besides, Max, if you’re out shopping, you’ll miss a chance to ride on the tractor with Felix,” Travis reminded him.

The question of what Max would be missing more—the joy of consumerism versus the visceral pleasure of bouncing atop a rumbling, massive-wheeled tractor—became moot.

Jade came down to the kitchen with her hair a ragged wet mop around her pale face and her lips pressed in a flat stubborn line as everyone around the table greeted her. When Jordan proposed picking her up after school to go shopping at Jade’s favorite Georgetown boutique, she gave her a withering look for having even made the offer.

“A blast and a half for sure, but I have other plans this afternoon. And I don’t want breakfast, either,” she said, already shouldering her messenger bag.

Both Margot and Jordan spoke at once.

“And what plans would those be?”

“I’m sorry you don’t want to go. I was really looking forward to it, Jade.”

“Well, a little rain has to fall in everyone’s life, don’t it, Jordan? And you know what else? I really don’t feel much like sharing info with any of you. I’ve got a life. Maybe you all should get one, too.”

She stalked out, without a single flip comment or a casual ruffle of Olivia’s hair as she passed, ignoring, too, Margot’s cry of, “In case you’ve forgotten, there’s a curfew on weeknights.”

Collectively they sat with their ears nervously straining for the sound of the Porsche roaring to life, its wheels spinning on gravel. Jade didn’t disappoint.

Sinking back in her chair, Margot picked up her coffee and stared at it glumly. “That was brilliant of me. Any hope she’ll be going out with Brian Steadman?”

The next two days were just as painful. Jade would get up, leave immediately for school, come back home and ride, and then, announcing she had work to do in the town
library, leave again. She’d return a minute before her curfew. The rare times she hung around, it was to treat everyone to a stony silence or, if pushed, to stinging replies before stalking upstairs to her room.

No dummies, the children quickly picked up on the fact that something was wrong with their superheroine Aunt Jade.

They were in Max’s room, the three children playing with the blocks, using them as an obstacle course for Max’s collection of trucks while Jordan packed Max’s bag for the weekend visit with Richard, due to pick them up in a half hour.

“Why isn’t Jade teaching us anymore, Mommy?”

“Yeah, she doesn’t make funny jokes, either. Does she hate us, Mommy? Libby Teller said she hated me ’cause I wouldn’t let her ride the scooter at outdoor playtime,” Max said.

Feeling as if her heart had dropped right through the floorboards, Jordan sank to her knees beside them and enfolded Kate and Max in a hug. Olivia alone seemed untroubled, absorbed in ramming her truck into the bed’s wooden leg.

“Jade doesn’t hate you. She loves you guys. You know that. She’s just very busy right now. When you get bigger, you get a lot more work at school. I’m sure when the school year finishes, she’ll start giving you lessons on Doc again. And Libby Teller doesn’t hate you, either, Max. She was just angry because she wanted you to share the scooter with her. Next time you’ll remember to share, right, Maxwell Robert Stevens?”

He shrugged. “I guess so. Libby thinks she’s the boss of me. She’s not.”

“No, she’s not. But you still need to remember to share.” She’d have to talk to Drew Farber, Max’s teacher, Monday morning and make sure she was aware of the situation between Max and Libby.

“Is Owen gonna come to our house today? I wanna show him how I can climb a tree.”

A worrisome side effect of Jade’s hostility was that the children had become even more attached to Owen. Though Owen was growing increasingly at ease in their presence, that hardly meant he wanted to be their go-to source for entertainment.

“No, sweetie, Daddy’s coming to pick you up soon, so you won’t see Owen.” She’d made sure to tell him she’d be busy with the kids until four-thirty, when Richard was coming.

“But if Owen came over, then Daddy could meet him. And then I could show them both how high I can climb,” Max said excitedly.

What an awful idea. Not the tree climbing, but the prospect of Richard and Owen meeting. The thought made her head pound. “As I said, Max, Daddy will be here very soon, so I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.”

“You can call Owen and tell him to come.”

She smiled. “Why don’t we first make sure we have all your things downstairs and ready for Daddy?”

Jordan had steeled herself for what was coming, the rending of her heart while she stood and watched her children clamber into her ex-husband’s car and drive off down the allée, gone from her until five o’clock on Sunday.

She was proud that she kept her tears firmly in check as she hugged and kissed the children good-bye and was able to address Richard with a calm, “Hi, how was the traffic?”

“Typical Friday chaos. So, you guys ready to have fun this weekend?” he asked, bending down to kiss the children.

“Is that Susannah? I’ll just go say hi,” she said moving toward the car.

Richard’s reply brought her up short. “That’s Cynthia. Susannah had something going on this afternoon.”

She turned around. Her face felt stiff. “Thanks for the warning, Richard.”

He didn’t respond immediately, choosing instead to open the rear door for the kids to climb into their booster seats and then hoisting Olivia into hers. She heard Cynthia greet the children with gushing enthusiasm. Jordan couldn’t help but wonder whether this was the way she always behaved around them or a special show put on exclusively for her benefit.

Finished strapping Olivia into the car seat, Richard shut the door, turned, and gave an aggrieved sigh at her expression. “You don’t have to make a big deal out of this, Jordan. Cynthia and I are married. She needs to bond with the kids. In the car and out of it.”

She looked at him levelly. “Nevertheless, it would have been nice if I could have known that she was coming.”

“That’s right, you like things to be nice and proper.” There was an angry edge to his voice. “Though according to several sources, you seem to have abandoned any sense of propriety by flaunting your lovers publicly. Have you considered that it might be less embarrassing for all concerned if you’d try to be a little discreet?”

For a second she was shocked speechless, not by the distance Nonie’s gossip had traveled but rather by the transparency of Richard’s hypocrisy. “Discreet? That’s rich, coming from you. But you don’t have to make a big deal out of this, Richard. You and I are divorced.”

“Very funny,” he snapped. “There are children involved. I don’t want them exposed—”

“Don’t even think of going there.” Her tone stopped him cold. “No conduct of mine could ever compare to your behavior as a married man with three small children. Just in case you’ve forgotten, my lawyer still has the tape revealing your and Cynthia’s total lack of discretion.”

It was his turn to look shocked. He stared at her for several moments. “You’ve changed, Jordan,” he said finally.

“Yes, I have. I’m no longer the doormat I used to be.”

The silence stretched between them. Then he gave a short nod. “I’ll have the kids call when we get home.”

“Please dial my cell. I may be out,” she said, and if she hadn’t been in so much pain at the prospect of seeing her children drive off, she would have taken sweet pleasure in having stood her ground.

She went down to the main barn, knowing it would be bustling with the preshow bathing and braiding of the horses heading down to Charlottesville. She saw Andy first. Standing on a low stool, he was braiding Indigo’s mane. The mare was freshly bathed, the dark rosettes of her dapple gray coat glossy black with white highlights.

“Hi, I’ve come to lend a hand.”

“Could use one. Jade’s supposed to be here helping braid.”

“She hasn’t shown up yet?” School had ended more than an hour ago.

“Nope. Margot’s a wee bit ticked off because not only is she MIA, she’s turned off her phone.” Finished working the black yarn into the lower half of the braid, he looped it around the end of the mane and knotted it so that the braid hung in a thin line next to the others.