Heartsong (13 page)

“Skye,” he groaned into her hair. “I think you better make us that coffee.”

Still dazed, she blinked her round eyes.

“Would you like me to do it?” He brought down two mugs from the cupboard, more in command of his senses than she.

“I’ll … I’ll pour, thanks.” She was composed by the time she brought their coffee into the living room. “Before I forget, Janey needs your address. She wants to write you a thank-you note. It was thoughtful of you to buy her such a nice gift.”

“My pleasure.” He took the pen and pad from the coffee table and scribbled a few lines in bold, even strokes.

“How much time do we have tomorrow before your date?” Jordan demanded, and frowned.

“All day, really.” She wasn’t looking forward to this blind date. “Sally said I should be ready around seven thirty.”

He nodded, his brows knitting together in an expression of disapproval.

“Can we go sailing tomorrow?” She didn’t want to end the evening with another argument and hoped to steer their conversation away from any unpleasantness. “Brad and I share ownership in a small twenty-one-foot sloop. I think you’ll like it.”

Jordan grinned and gave an approving nod. “As long as it’s understood I’m the captain and you’re the crew.”

“Yes, sir.” She saluted him enthusiastically.

“I’ll tolerate no insubordination,” he said crisply.

“None, sir.”

A grin twitched at the corners of his mouth. “I could get to like this. All right, your first command is to walk me to the door and kiss me good night.”

“Right away, sir.” She did as he requested, and by the time Jordan left the only thing cool was their coffee.

“If I take the wings of the dawn, if I dwell in the remotest part of the sea, even there Thy hand will guide me and Thy right hand will take hold of me.”

“What are you mumbling?” Jordan’s words shot past her in the brisk wind.

“Nothing,” she mumbled. Prying her hand loose from the mast, she gave him a tiny wave of reassurance, then grabbed hold again in a death grip.

Once the sails were up, the sailboat immediately keeled, and Skye fought the sensation she would fall overboard. “Dear Lord,” she prayed, “just get me out of this
alive
.” Her mind whirled with the wind. All she needed to do now was tie off the sails in an eight-knot. But how does an eight-knot go? Every sailor’s daughter knows how to tie something so simple. How could she have forgotten? Everything fell into place suddenly, and Skye sighed in relief.

She crawled on all fours back to Jordan in the cockpit, her heart in her throat.

He seemed to be finding her escapades amusing, and there was no disguising the laughter in his eyes.

“We’ve got a good brisk wind,” he said as she lowered herself to safety.

“A brisk wind?” she said incredulously. “I’ve seen hurricanes of less force.”

“I thought you said you were an experienced sailor.” His eyes were beaming with a wicked, teasing light.

“It was only a slight exaggeration,” Skye said, defending herself. “I sailed with Brad and my father several times. I may even have managed to raise the sails once or twice, but never in winds like this.”

Jordan laughed and motioned for her to join him. Skye went readily; fitting into his arms seemed to come naturally. Expertly Jordan maneuvered the helm through the open waters.

“What were you mumbling up there? You looked very intent.”

Lifting a strand of wind-driven hair from her face, she laughed. “I was talking to God, reminding Him that He said His right hand would guide me. I felt I needed it up there.”

Some of the amusement left his eyes. “Do you always talk to God?”

“Sure, that’s what’s known as prayer.” She smiled absently, enjoying the sensation of slicing through the water. It freed her spirit and lifted her soul.

“You really believe in this Jesus stuff, don’t you?” His expression was thoughtful as he met her gaze.

“With all my heart.” Her look, more than her words, stated the depth of her faith. “Is it so difficult for you to believe Jesus is God’s Son?”

Jordan was quiet, as if turning the question over in his mind. Skye could see he was uncomfortable. “From the evidence that exists, Christ lived on earth. Whether He was who He said He was is another matter.”

“Not if you examine the facts.” Skye didn’t want to be pushy. She had learned long ago that Christ was a gentleman who didn’t barge into someone’s life. He came only when invited.

“I guess what I don’t understand is that you all seem to think God is so good, but look at all the evil and bad things that happen.”

“That is difficult, isn’t it? I think one of the hardest things for me to accept as a Christian has been the belief that everything that happens to me is for my good.”

Jordan gave a small unpleasant laugh. “Don’t try to tell me that crippling Billy was doing the poor kid a favor.”

“No, but you’re missing an important point. God didn’t cause Billy’s accident. He did allow it to happen, but ultimately it will be for Billy’s good. A Christian must see that in every situation.”

“Good grief,” he responded mockingly. “You really are a Pollyanna. Wasn’t that her game? The glad game? Finding something good in every situation?”

Averting her face, Skye could feel a lump forming in her throat. “I guess it does sound childish to you, Jordan, but I’ve put absolute trust in my God, and I believe that whatever happens to me or those I love is for the best.”

Jordan sighed, his look pensive. “Then I think we should agree to disagree.”

A brooding unhappiness settled over Skye. How could their relationship continue if Jordan differed so strongly with her religious views? With an upward sweep of her lashes, Skye glanced at him. His dark gray eyes were masked and troubled. Skye yearned to reach out and touch him, to answer the doubts that plagued him. The need crescendoed until she thought she would weep with the agony of it. She wanted to trust God, longed for that intense faith that would lift her above her own doubts. Instead she sat beside him weary and fearful that she hadn’t explained herself well. Unexpectedly the sun broke through the heavy clouds, offering promise. Skye’s spirits soared; she needed a promise, something to hold on to until Jordan recognized the truth. Smiling, Skye turned her face heavenward in silent communication. She was ready to trust.

“Hey, how about a sandwich?” she asked, feeling the need to lighten the mood. “I’m starved.”

Jordan’s gaze swept slowly over her face. “All right, how about a ham on rye with mustard, mayo, and pickles?”

“Yes, sir,” she responded with a twinkle in her eye. “One peanut butter and jelly coming up.”

The sound of his amusement followed her as she went below.

The mood became more serious as their discussion continued on other subjects.
Although their opinions varied, and they were just as prone to argue over something as agree, their differences were not so far removed. Except for one—God and a personal relationship with Him.

Jordan’s knowledge of music surprised Skye, and she noted how he cleverly steered the conversation to her singing.

“You have a marvelous talent,” he reminded her. “I’d like for you to reconsider my offer and let Dan Murphy listen to you.”

Skye laughed and dismissed his offer with a shrug.

“You can be persistent, can’t you? Singing for money would take all the fun out of it for me. Besides, I already am a professional.”

His eyes widened curiously.

“Teacher,” Skye added.

“Do you enjoy teaching that much?”

Dragging her fingertips along the surface of the water, Skye straightened. “There are days I wonder, but then I’ve always loved children, and teaching is what I do best.”

“You actually enjoy children?” He made it sound like a character defect.

“I’m a teacher, I’d better,” she told him adamantly. “I think the younger the better. It’s difficult for me to watch Janey grow up. I see her developing into a young woman and it tears at my heart. I don’t want her to become independent and self-reliant. In the beginning it was almost as if Janey were my own child. She’s named after me, you know.” Skye laughed at his expression. “Poor kid, getting stuck with an ordinary name like
Jane
.”

His eyes held hers with mocking reproof. “There’s nothing plain about you. But if you’re so keen on children, why don’t you have one?”

“I will, if I marry.”

“In case you haven’t heard, a girl doesn’t need to be married to have a baby,” he countered quickly, some of the teasing gone from his voice.

“This girl does.”

“I see. It’s like choking down your vegetables before being allowed to sample the delights of dessert.”

Her eyes fell, avoiding his. “If that’s the way you want to look at marriage, then I guess so. Do you find marriage so objectionable?”

His facial muscles softened, and the smile he gave her was warm and gentle. “No. As a matter of fact, I agree with you. I wanted to get married once, but the lady was more interested in a career than in a family—or in committing herself to one man, for that matter.”

The woman had been mad, Skye decided, to reject Jordan’s love. “Do you still love her?” The question popped out before she had a chance to censor it. Just thinking Jordan loved another brought a sharp pain to her midsection.

“No. Whatever I felt for her died long ago.”

Skye risked a glance at Jordan and relaxed.

“Do you still love him?” Jordan asked unexpectedly.

“Who?”

“The one you’ve been eating your heart out over.”

Confused and unsure of how to respond, Skye looked away. “Yes, I guess I do.”

Jordan’s eyes became grim and cold, and Skye realized she couldn’t leave it there. “He was killed in a car accident eight years ago.” Her voice was tight yet soft, indicating the emotion the simple words had cost her.

Jordan’s expression softened, followed by surfacing compassion. “I’m sorry.”

Her smile was weak. “So am I.”

An hour later they docked the sloop at the marina.

“What about tomorrow?” Jordan questioned as they strolled toward her apartment.

“There’s church in the morning,” she announced casually. “I’m singing with the choir. Would you like to come?”

“Yes, I would,” he stated softly.

His response surprised her in more ways than one. She’d expected him to complain because of their limited time together. “Wonderful,” she murmured silently. Willingly Skye turned into Jordan’s arms the minute her apartment door was closed.

“Take this with you tonight,” he mumbled huskily. The hard possession of his mouth brought physical pain. Her tender lips felt bruised and swollen under the force of his kiss, but it didn’t seem to matter. She understood his hunger.

“I enjoyed myself.” Steve King stood in the hallway outside Skye’s apartment. His gaze freely roamed her face, and Skye could feel the color surface; she always felt uncomfortable when people stared at her so closely. They had left Sally and her husband, Andy, following dinner. It was clear Steve expected her to invite him in for coffee, but Skye hesitated pointedly.

“Thank you. I had a nice time, too.” Despite the fact her thoughts had been with Jordan the entire evening, still they had managed to enjoy each other’s company.

Contrary to what Skye had expected, Steve was tall and good looking in a homey, down-to-earth manner. His mustache was an umbrella over a droll smile. He displayed an inherent sensitivity Skye found lacking in other men; his smile was warm and genuine, his laugh easy. She might even have considered seeing him again if it hadn’t been for Jordan.

“There’s someone else, isn’t there?” He returned her keys to her open palm after unlocking her door.

Skye’s blue eyes widened. “Is it so obvious?” she asked, feeling a twinge of guilt. “I’m sorry, it must have been a dull evening for you.”

“Quite the contrary,” he assured her. “I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I guess I should have known a lovely blonde like you would be spoken for.”

“A lovely blonde like me?” Her smile was negated by a disbelieving slant of her head. “I won’t argue; you’re certainly good for the ego.”

The masculine line of his mouth curved into a pleasant smile. “I mean it. If things don’t work out for you with this other fellow, give me a call. Andy has my number.” His eyes grew serious. Very gently he placed a fleeting kiss upon her unsuspecting lips before adding, “I’m very interested. Whoever he is, he’s a lucky man.” He opened the apartment door for her and retreated.

“Good night … Steve.” She faltered slightly over his name. “And thanks again.”

He turned and gave a friendly wave. “Good-bye, Skye.” He spoke conclusively, as if he was aware he wouldn’t be seeing her again.

The morning sky was a pale blue. The early-morning fog had dissipated, and the sun shone brightly. A thick covering of rich green leaves was making its appearance on the
trees that lined the streets. Skye was up and dressed long before it was time to leave for church. She chose her outfit with care, having saved the powder-blue suit for a special occasion. And what could be more special than attending church with Jordan?

Her Bible lay on her nightstand, and she reached for it thoughtfully. If only she knew more, she chastised herself, maybe she could answer Jordan’s questions intelligently and persuade him of the truth. A fragile smile formed. Did she consider herself more capable than the Holy Spirit? It was a ludicrous question. No, she had placed Jordan in God’s hands; now she must wait patiently and trust. It was an encouraging sign that he was willing to attend church with her.

She met Jordan outside at the steps of the church. Again Skye was struck by his basic masculine appeal. The dark suit fit him superbly, accentuating his wide shoulders and tapering to his slim waist and hips.

His eyes followed her as she approached, his gaze as appreciative as hers was of him. Skye felt elegant today, like a princess in a fairy tale. Certainly nothing to rival Carin Cain, the model she had attempted to imitate that first night with Jordan, but lovely in her own way. The thought crossed her mind that if she didn’t strive for inner beauty as diligently as outer beauty, she would soon be vain.