Believe in Me: A Rosewood Novel (51 page)

“Jeesh, you don’t need to cry just because I’m giving them a lesson, it’s not that big a deal.” Her voice was a mix of exasperation, awkwardness, and guilt.

Jordan sniffed and shook her head, continuing to brush vigorously. “It’s not just that, though I don’t know whether you realize how happy you’ve made me and the kids.”

“No, I do. So make sure you tell Owen I’m teaching them again. I don’t feel like getting another lecture from him.”

“I will.” Privately she wondered how to make Owen understand the central role he’d acquired in all their lives, let alone how much she loved him.

She wanted to tell him that she missed the comforting strength of his arms around her, missed seeing the fierce pleasure stamped on his face when he was deep inside her, missed feeling his body shudder and heave its release and hear his heart racing for her. She so longed to experience all those things again … and only with him.

But how could she tell Owen any of this when he wouldn’t answer his phone or return the messages she had left since Saturday morning?

On Monday Owen wasn’t at Hawk Hill.

She found Jesse and Doug upstairs, installing the mirrored medicine cabinet she’d ordered for the third bathroom.

“Hi,” she said. “I didn’t see Owen’s car. Is he coming soon?”

“He was here earlier, but he had a meeting with a new client,” Jesse said, not quite meeting her eye.

“Oh. So he won’t be back?”

“I don’t think so,” Doug said. “Can we do something for you, Jordan?”

From their carefully polite tones, Jordan knew Jesse had told Doug about what had happened at The Den. “No, a
delivery for the living room should be here soon, but the deliverymen can carry in the pieces and set them where I want them to go. I really just wanted to thank Owen for all he did on Friday at The Den. And thank you, too, Jesse.”

A flush stole over Jesse’s cheeks. “I wish I could have thrown some punches at the dude who was hammering Owen. But I’d started a conversation with a couple of women and wasn’t paying much attention.”

“I understand.” She really didn’t want to hear about the engrossing women he and Owen had met.

“It wasn’t until Owen knocked the guy into some stools and I heard the racket that I realized some bad stuff was going down. We tried to hustle your sister out, but the cops had already staked out the exits. When Owen and your kid sister had to go down to the station, he told me to head home, so I’m not being modest in saying I didn’t do much. Your sister’s okay?”

“It’s possible that the judge will be lenient since Jade wasn’t drinking. We’re just relieved no serious harm came to her.”

“Yeah, that dude was big as well as crazy-drunk-mean. Not the kind of guy whose eye a girl wants to catch.”

She was glad she’d eaten breakfast a long time ago because her stomach roiled at the thought of what this man might have done to Jade if Owen hadn’t been there.

“So Owen won’t be back today?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Oh.” Her life seemed to have turned into one big “O,” as in “zero.” “It’s just that I told Travis and Ned that they should come by after work to look at the barn.”

“I’ll probably still be around,” Jesse said.

“You’ll be staying that late?”

“Touch-up painting and a list of other odds and ends,” he said by way of explanation. “Owen wants this gig wrapped up.”

Of course he did. And he wanted out of her life, too, so
he could move on with no strings attached. “I’ll tell them to come and find you if they have any suggestions for the stalls.”

Jordan went home after the furniture was delivered and arranged. The living room looked wonderful, but without Owen to share her pleasure in the mix of textures and outlines, there was no reason to linger. It was just a job, and she hoped whoever moved in would like her choices and want to keep them.

The kids were dressed for their lesson, and Miriam had already given them their afternoon snack.

“Wow, such organization,” she said with a smile.

“The kids were pretty fired up knowing it was Jade who was going to be teaching them,” Miriam said with a smile.

“During our lesson yesterday Jade told me we have lots of work to do before Crestview,” Kate told her.

“I’m sure you’re going to do very well and have lots of fun besides. That’s the important thing at a show—to have fun with Doc.”

As they walked down to the barn, Kate and Max skipping at her side and Olivia doing her lurching half-run, Kate said, “Mommy, can we ask Owen to come watch me ride at Crestview?”

Her step faltered. “We can certainly ask him.” She made her voice sound as noncommittal as possible while her brain scrambled to redirect the conversation. And failed.

“We’re making invitations with Miss Burnley for mommies and daddies to come to the concert we’re having on the last day of school,” Kate said. “I could make an invitation for Owen to come and watch me ride Doc.”

“Me too,” Max chimed in. “I want to write him one, too. I can invite him to watch Katie ride with me, can’t I, Mommy?”

Her throat too tight for words, she could only nod. Now she’d have to worry about two more hearts breaking.

Kate and Max were talking about glitter and stickers and colored paper when they entered the main barn.

Ned was at the closest cross ties, tacking Mistral. Hearing their voices, he looked up. “All set for your lesson?”

“Hiya, Ned, we’re going to make cards for Owen after we ride so that he comes to Crestview to watch Katie.”

“That’s a fine idea, Max.” He bent down and slipped Mistral’s girth through the martingale. “Owen’s bound to have a good time at the show. He’ll be right proud to watch you, Kate. So how was Owen today, Miss Jordan? Those bruises starting to fade? Miss Margot said he had a couple of nasty ones.”

“I didn’t see him.” She reached out and lifted Olivia into her arms so that she wouldn’t wander too close to Mistral’s hooves. “He was meeting a client.”

“But we’re set for today? Can’t wait to see those stalls.”

“I’m not sure Owen will be there, but Jesse told me he’d be working late at the house, so you and Travis can still go down and look at the barn.”

“It’ll just be me. Margot was able to get an appointment with the counselor Reverend Wilde recommended. Travis is going with her and Jade. It’s a shame about Owen, though. I’d have liked to—”

Tim Mitchell walked into the barn. “Hi, Jordan, hi, kids.”

The children, not quite sure where he fit into the scheme of things even though they saw him often around the barn, didn’t reply immediately. Olivia stared and then, with uncustomary shyness, buried her face in Jordan’s neck.

“Kate, Max, please say hello to Mr. Mitchell,” Jordan instructed quietly.

“Hello, Mr. Mitchell,” Kate and Max said in unison.

“So what was that about Owen, Ned? He didn’t run into more trouble, did he?”

Jordan wasn’t the only one annoyed by the careless comment. Ned shot Tim a hard look. “No. I’m going to his
place to look over the barn he’s rebuilt. Travis and I gave him advice on what equipment company to order from and what the best layout for a small barn would be. Unfortunately he won’t be there. A shame, because I like him. You here to see Cascade, Tim? ’Cause he’s not due to come in from the fields for another forty-five minutes yet.”

“That’s all right. I can wait.” Luckily Tim understood that at Rosewood, the horses’ schedules were paramount. “That is too bad about Owen not being around, especially if it means he hasn’t given you the green light to show me around Hawk Hill before the Open House,” he said to Jordan.

“I’m afraid I forgot to leave a message asking him about it, Tim.”

“Oh, he already knows. I talked to him on Friday night. He said he’d get back to me, but I think he understood that letting me get a look at Hawk Hill early could be a very shrewd move.”

She stared at him. “You asked him on Friday night about buying Hawk Hill?” she asked with equal parts of shock and despair. How utterly tactless of Tim. She could only imagine what he’d said—and what Owen must have thought.

“You know how the old saying goes. The early bird gets the worm,” he said, smiling.

Seeing that at dinner he’d basically linked Hawk Hill with her, she figured she’d just unwittingly been called a worm. And Tim, supremely absorbed in his own wants, was definitely unwitting. “If you’ll excuse me, the children and I have to get Doc groomed and tacked for his lesson.” She hurried off before Tim could suggest they spend the next forty-five minutes together.

Owen hadn’t realized he possessed such a wide masochistic streak. That was the only explanation for why he returned to Hawk Hill later that afternoon. Being there and knowing that he could walk through the woods, or, hell,
jump into his car and drive to Rosewood, with the perfectly reasonable excuse that he wanted to find out how Jade was doing, was torturously tempting.

He literally ached with the need to see Jordan, to breathe her in.

He hadn’t let himself go inside the house. That much torture he couldn’t stand. Seeing the rooms that she had furnished and imagining her living in them with Tim Mitchell would shred his heart to ribbons. The barn was bad enough. Would Max have his pony here, the one Tim had found for Jordan? Trying not to picture all five of them going out for Sunday-morning rides, a happy equestrian family, he picked up the power drill to fasten the galvanized steel latch to the sliding door he’d installed with Jesse.

“Hey there, Owen. I saw your car parked outside.”

He turned around, his finger relaxing so that the drill’s motor slowed to a soft whirr and then fell silent. “Ned, how are you?”

“I’m awful glad Miss Jordan was mistaken about you not being around, that’s for sure. I haven’t gotten a chance to thank you for what you did for Jade.” Ned’s gaze zeroed in on the bruise darkening his jaw and the cut along his cheekbone. “We owe you, Owen.”

Owen felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. “No, you don’t. I only wish I’d been able to get her out of there before the police arrived.”

Ned shrugged. “It might not turn out so bad for Jade. She might learn a lesson she won’t soon forget. Most important thing is she wasn’t hurt Friday night, and you saw to that. Travis intends to come by and thank you, too.”

“No need, Ned.” Determined to end the discussion of his supposed heroics, he put down the drill and slid the stall door open. “So, what do you think?”

Ned walked in, looked at the shuttered window that was designed to let the horse look outside during warm weather and then be latched at night and in winter. “This looks
good. Really good. And installing sliding doors was the right decision. Maximizes the aisle space.”

“We’ve put the tack room and feed storage on this end. Do you want to see the tack room?”

“Sure.” Ned came out of the stall and walked beside him. “So what’s this about you selling Hawk Hill to Tim Mitchell?”

Had Jordan told Ned? No, it would have been Tim. Owen bet he’d been at Rosewood, announcing his plans with the blessed conviction that he and Jordan were a perfect match. “He seems to want to buy it.”

Ned gave a grunt. “Tim probably wants a lot of things: Hawk Hill, Jordan, the chance to have his pick of Rosewood Farm’s foals so he can ride a different horse every day, and that’s just to name a few. But that doesn’t mean he should get them. I should think you’d care an awful lot about his plans for at least one of those things on his wish list.”

“Ned, I care about Jordan—”

“Of course you do. Do you think I’d be wasting my breath otherwise?”

“But I’m not going to marry her, and that’s what she deserves.”

Ned came to a halt. Turning to Owen, he thrust out his chin and demanded, “Why in hell not?”

Owen dragged an impatient hand through his hair. He really did not want to talk about this, but he liked and respected the older man. And he figured, as one bachelor to another, his reasons might strike a chord.

“Not everyone’s cut out for marriage. I’m just not good husband material, and that’s what Jordan and the children need and deserve. I would think you, of all people, would understand my reservations. After all, you never married, did you?”

Ned gave him a long, hard stare. “No, I didn’t get married.” He stuck a hand in his trouser pocket and pulled out
his tin of chewing tobacco. With jerky movements, he popped off the lid, dug out a fingerful, and jammed it in his mouth, working his lip vigorously. “I let Mary get away. She went and married a tax accountant. John Finley. They live in California now. Every year since she and John got hitched, Mary’s sent me a Christmas card. The kind with a photograph. First it was just her and John. Then the babies and a silly-looking dog. The last few years, the photo has grown crowded with a whole passel of grandkids.” He was silent for a moment, staring through the barn’s wide entrance into the golden summer light of early evening. When he looked at Owen again, his pale blue eyes were bleak. “I hate those damned Christmas cards. Because they make me think about what it would have been like to have those fine children with Mary and share in both the joys and the sorrows of watching them grow up and find their own loves. Every year I have to face the fact that I was a damned coward to let her go. Don’t you make the same mistake, son.”

The sun had nearly set. But there was still enough light to see the spot at the edge of the lawn where he and Jordan had made love under a blanket of stars. He walked to it and stood there breathing deeply, remembering. She’d been as dizzyingly magical as the millions of stars sparkling overhead. It struck him that before Jordan he had never made love to a woman out of doors, but then there were so many firsts with her. Firsts and lasts. She was the first woman he’d fallen in love with; he knew she’d be the last one he would ever care for as deeply.

He made himself walk through the nearly finished house. Forced himself to stand in the living room with its newly arrived furniture and picture Tim and Jordan sitting on the sofa, her body curled into his while Kate and Max played with their blocks and animals and Olivia kicked a tower over with unholy glee. Upstairs, he moved from bedroom to bedroom, imagining the children’s toys scattered about,
the picture books lining the shelves that Doug and Jesse had built. In the master bedroom he saw Jordan curled into the warmth of another man’s body, his arm wrapped about her middle, anchoring her to him as he breathed in her warm sweet scent, and he wanted to smash his fist into the freshly painted wall.