Believe in Me: A Rosewood Novel (50 page)

He stirred more cream into his coffee, his spoon clinking against the china cup. “Do you think you could arrange to get me in to see it before the Open House?”

“Well, I’m not sure Owen—”

“In case you haven’t guessed, Jordan, I’m seriously considering making a bid on the property. Living near Rosewood would offer so many advantages.” He reached out and let his fingers brush hers.

With a smile she slid her hand away and picked up the now tepid cup of chamomile tea she’d ordered with her peach pie and ginger ice cream.

“Tim, you live close enough that visiting Cascade won’t be any problem. And didn’t I hear you tell Travis how you loved to make the drive because it took you past the hunt club’s own fields?” she replied, deciding to be deliberately obtuse.

“There are more reasons to move than being nearer to the colt, and they’re more important to me than making sure the club’s fields and fences are in good condition,” he replied, his gaze holding hers across the candlelight. “Jordan, I realize you’re still figuring out what it is you want after the nightmare of your divorce. But I might as well tell you that my thoughts and hopes have taken a new direction since I’ve gotten to know you better. And I’m willing to do anything I can to make you part of my life.”

She supposed some women might be flattered by Tim’s words. But listening to him say that he wanted to buy Hawk Hill because it would place him closer to her, she could only think that either he was flattering her outrageously—and she’d had enough of disingenuous men—or he was extraordinarily confident of his chances for success.

Rather presumptuous for a man on his first dinner date. Jordan suddenly felt a lot better about being head over heels in love with Owen. He never took her for granted.

Her fingers tightened around the teacup’s delicate handle, worried that if she put her hand down Tim might read the gesture as encouragement and try to touch her again. “Tim, I consider you a friend, a very good friend—”
But that’s all
, she’d intended to say, however Tim cut her off.

“And that’s an excellent foundation to build on. So you’ll talk to Gage about Hawk Hill?”

He reminded her of a hound chasing down a fox, the aspect of the hunt she liked least. “I’ll ask him, but I can’t guarantee he’ll agree to let you see it early.”

“I have a hunch Gage might be just as happy to make a quick sale.”

His opinion, delivered with such confidence, caused the ginger ice cream to curdle in her stomach. She didn’t want to think about Owen leaving, especially when she wasn’t sure her campaign to make him see all he would be losing if he walked away from their relationship was even working.

She raised her teacup, thinking another sip might settle her stomach, only to lower it as her clutch began vibrating on the linen tablecloth. “Excuse me,” she said, reaching for the bag. “I’ll just see who’s calling.”

“Of course, go ahead.” Tim leaned back in his chair.

Jordan glanced at the number on her cellphone’s screen and frowned. It was Rosewood. She flipped the phone open. “Hello?”

“Jordan, it’s Travis.”

“Travis? Is something wrong with the children?”

“They’re fine. Jordan, it’s Jade and Owen, they’re at the police station. I’m still not sure what exactly happened. Margot went down. Maybe you want to—”

Owen and Jade?
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Owen sat with his eyes closed, trying to ignore the increasing stiffness in his muscles and the pain that flared to life each time he shifted his weight on the plastic seat.

“Owen?” Jordan’s voice had him jerking upright in the
chair and grimacing as he opened his eyes. But now the pain came from a different source. She was hurrying toward him with Tim Mitchell striding by her side, his hand at the small of her back. Owen knew Mitchell intended to keep it there.

“Owen, what happened? You look terrible.”

And she looked beautiful.

She was dressed in a sleeveless silk sheath of deep purple, the color enhancing the red cast of her hair and deepening the blue of her eyes. Her slender legs were bare and made even longer by the stiletto heels of her strappy sandals. She looked gorgeous, and Owen wanted to go home with her right now. And he bloody hated Tim, who had gotten to stare across a table at her all evening long.

He rose and did his best to straighten, feeling as creaky as an eighty-year-old. “I’m all right. No need to worry.”

“And Jade? Is she—”

“She’s with Margot. They’re talking in there.” He tilted his head toward a closed door and wished he hadn’t because it felt like a knife was stuck in his neck.

“But what happened?” she asked.

“It’s a long story.” He didn’t want to say more in front of Mitchell.

“One that ended with you being taken here,” Mitchell observed.

Such acuity. “Seems that way.”

“So where did it start?” Mitchell asked.

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug and grunted. He saw Mitchell smile at the sound. Screw him. Even Mitchell might be a little worse for wear after working all day and then being pummeled like a punching bag. Too bad Howie Driscoll was gone. Owen would have liked to introduce him to Mitchell.

“Owen?” Jordan said, her gaze troubled.

He had to tell her something. He only hoped he had sufficient wits to edit his story so that Mitchell wouldn’t hear too much about Jade. “I was at The Den.”

“The Den?”

The surprise in her voice told him she knew the place. Judging from his smug expression, Mitchell did, too.

“Yeah, I went there with Jesse.”

“Oh.” The sad little syllable came straight from Jordan’s heart. There was no need to ask Owen why they’d chosen to go to The Den. The bar was Warburg’s principal pickup joint. Oh God, Owen was already looking for a new woman to warm his bed. The thought filled her with desolation.

Jordan knew she should be asking where Jade came into the story, and how Owen had gotten beat up so badly his face was swollen and bruised and bloodied, but all she could focus on was that while she was with Tim, thinking about how much she loved Owen, he’d been at The Den.

The tales of the bar were legion.

Her imagination was cruel. It battered her with images of scantily dressed women draping themselves over him.

“Oh,” she repeated stupidly, weakly. Yet she was unable to tamp down a sense of betrayal at the idea of him checking out The Den’s offerings. She’d been wrong. He didn’t really care. The love was all on her side.

“I need to go make sure Jade’s all right. Excuse me.” Quickly she retreated, going over to the door Owen had indicated and knocking lightly before entering.

Owen would have followed Jordan, but he doubted Officer Lewis would admit non–family members. He certainly didn’t want to sit here with Mitchell, toward whom he was beginning to have an allergic reaction, unless it was some other kind of reaction. Christ, he was so tired he couldn’t think straight.

Maybe that was why he couldn’t figure out what Mitchell was still doing here. Jordan hadn’t asked him to stay. Belatedly he realized the other man was talking.

“I’m glad to have a minute alone with you, Owen.
There’s something I wanted to ask. Jordan and I were talking over dinner and the question came up of whether you’d let me take a look at Hawk Hill before the Open House.”

Owen stared at him blankly, not quite sure what he was hearing. “Wouldn’t you rather see the house when Jordan’s all finished with the decorating?”

“Frankly, I’d rather get a jump on the other buyers. Even though the market’s softened considerably, Hawk Hill is a great property. There’s going to be a number of interested parties. That’s why I want to be totally open with you and lay my cards on the table. I believe it’s the best way to deal with people. If you let me see Hawk Hill before the Open House, I’m confident we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement.”

Owen barely heard him. He was still stuck on the idea of Jordan talking about him to Mitchell. “Was this your idea or Jordan’s?”

“Both. She’s as excited by the prospect of my buying Hawk Hill as I am.”

It would have been so satisfying to tell Mitchell to take a hike, that even if he offered Owen cash up front, there was no way he was going to agree to sell him Hawk Hill so that he and Jordan could live there happily ever after.

But then Owen recalled Jordan saying how Tim was kind and funny and, most important, unafraid of emotional commitments.

That was the type of man Jordan deserved. He knew it, and she did, too. And it appeared she’d decided Mitchell was the one she wanted.

Is that why she’d been so quick to leave, without sparing him a backward glance or a smile?

All Jordan’s smiles would be reserved for Mitchell now.

He felt a strange hollowness at the thought, as if his insides had been sucked out of him.

“So what do you say, Owen?”

He knew he must be close to losing it; he was actually contemplating decking Mitchell in a police station. An impulse too stupid for words, doubly idiotic given his body’s battered state. Mitchell would probably wipe the floor with him.

He spoke through gritted teeth. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s great. Just great. I’ll tell Jordan, she’ll be so pleased. How does next week sound?”

He had to get out of there. Now, before Mitchell began sharing more of his and Jordan’s nifty plans for the future.

“I’ve got to go.”

“Of course. Forgive the pun, but you look totally beat. The Den’s definitely the place to find excitement, but you obviously found more than you could handle.”

Mitchell was a real wit, Owen thought. “Yeah. Say goodbye to Jordan and her sisters for me.”

He hobbled out of the police station, his bruised body and aching heart protesting his every step. He ignored them both. Now he knew what love really felt like: crap.

R
OSEWOOD WAS
a bleak place that weekend. For her underage, illegal-ID-toting adventures at The Den, Jade had been given a five-hundred-dollar fine and faced additional punishment with a court date set in three weeks’ time. Margot had yet to impose any punishment. Probably, Jordan thought, because she blamed herself for not preventing Jade’s latest calamity.

She understood Margot’s wracking sense of guilt. She was experiencing the same thing. She couldn’t stop thinking about Owen. If only she’d focused on
him
instead of her own fears. Now that she knew what he’d done for Jade at The Den, she longed to turn back time to the moment when she’d found him at the police station, his face dark with bruises and blood.

Cuts and bruises he’d received protecting her little sister from an aggressive drunk who’d become violent in his desire to see Jade “dance.” Owen in a barroom brawl for Jade’s sake only underscored what she knew already. He was a man who would go to any length to protect others, a man who gave more than he took. A special man.

If she’d needed further proof, it was provided by the only bright moment during the weekend, when she found Jade grooming Doc Holliday.

Having finished exercising Sava and Tidbit, Jordan had gone to the pony’s stall to ready him for the children’s lesson with Ned.

“What are you doing here?” she asked Jade in surprise.

Jade continued currying the pony’s rounded hindquarters. “I figured the kids should have their lesson as soon as Richard drops them off, and Doc was pretty dirty.”

“Will Ned be ready so soon? He just got on Sky Light.”

Jade shook her head, her eyes fixed on Doc’s rump. “I told Ned I’d take over their lessons for him. He has too much to do.”

That Ned was extremely busy had been true two weeks ago, too. Jordan picked up a stiff brush from the carryall and began brushing Doc’s bay coat. The pony must have found a muddy patch in the pasture. Little clouds of loosened dirt rose with each short stroke.

“Well, they’ll be thrilled to have you teaching them again. But can I ask why you’re really doing it?” She half-expected Jade to tell her it was to pay off the five-hundred-dollar fine she’d received.

Jade exchanged the curry comb for another bristle brush. “Owen said some stuff to me at the police station. He made me realize that it’s one thing to mess up, another to hurt Kate, Max, and Olivia. After reading Mom’s diary I pretty much wanted to spread the crap I was feeling around as far as I could. I’m sorry. They’re nice kids.”

Jade hadn’t reached the end of her explanation before the tears coated Jordan’s cheeks.

Had she been alone, she would have succumbed to the urge to cry her heart out. There were so many good reasons to—for Jade, who, though wretched, was nonetheless attempting to do the right thing toward the children; for her kids, who’d been unable to understand why the aunt they adored had turned her back on them, but would now be ecstatic that she wanted to spend time with them; for Owen, who cared enough to talk to Jade and try to help her; for herself, because she loved him so much. Because she knew she’d never find another man like Owen, a man she loved for more reasons than she could count.

She wept because she was terribly afraid she’d lost him.
Though she ducked down to brush Doc’s chest and beneath his neck, Jade noticed her tears nonetheless.