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Authors: Debbie Macomber

Heartsong (16 page)

BOOK: Heartsong
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A warm tingle of excitement raced through Skye, and she waved, her whole face brightening. Jordan hadn’t figured on another visit until the end of the week, but nothing he did surprised her anymore. His job at the radio station, although he rarely spoke of it, was demanding and time consuming. She had learned their time together must revolve around his schedule.

Noticing the baby in Skye’s arms, Jordan cast her a skeptical glance. Skye watched as his expression changed from puzzlement to one of amusement. The lines at the corners of his eyes broke into smiling crow’s-feet as he moved from her sight and into the building.

Skye was waiting for him with the door open, her smile one of welcome and pleasure.

“You surprised me … It’s good to see you.” That was a gross understatement. Her heart beat urgently, anticipating his firm kiss. She wasn’t disappointed. He closed the door with his foot and claimed possession of her mouth. Even with the baby in her arms, her pliant body bent toward him, yielding to his kiss.

“That alone was worth the hassle of getting to you tonight,” he said, his voice low and disturbed.

Dazed and happy, Skye blinked her liquid blue eyes. She was forced to draw her attention back to the baby, who began to fuss in earnest.

“Anne Marie Avery, daughter of Sally Avery.” She laid the crying baby on her arm for Jordan’s inspection. “I would like to introduce you to the man I love, Jordan Kiley.”

Anne Marie cried furiously, her reddened face twisting angrily while tears rolled from her squinted eyes.

“She doesn’t seem to be impressed.” Jordan shrugged, studying her.

“Give her time,” Skye teased. “She hasn’t woken up enough to appreciate your obvious male charm.”

Anne Marie screamed at fever pitch and kicked with all the strength of her eight-month-old limbs, fighting Skye’s attempts to change her diaper.

“What’s wrong with her?” Out of his element, concern laced Jordan’s voice.

“Nothing a dry diaper and warm bottle won’t cure,” she assured him, bringing a bottle from the supplies Sally had left. “Here, warm this; there’s hot water in the kitchen.
Just set the bottle in a bowl and surround it with the water.”

In her dry diaper, Anne Marie’s cries were no less frenzied. Jordan returned looking slightly unnerved. The room went from blustering cries to restful silence as soon as the bottle was placed in the baby’s mouth.

Jordan sighed in relief and relaxed his lengthy frame in the chair.

“You look like you could use a cup of coffee,” Skye said, watching Anne Marie greedily suck at the bottle. When she glanced up a few seconds later, she found Jordan’s gaze lingering on her. His eyes were narrowed, expressing uncertainty, perhaps hesitation.

“Jordan, is something wrong?” she asked in a whisper.

His eyes cleared immediately. “No, I was just watching Anne Marie and seeing how very right you look with a baby in your arms.” His look was tender. “We’ll have beautiful children.”

Their children … their child. A lump of wonder and joy blocked her throat. The deep womanly desire to bear children was one she had ignored for eight years; now it surfaced, and the longing to hold her own child swelled within her. Jordan was right; their children would be beautiful. God willing they would be dark, like Jordan, but their eyes a striking contrast of deep blue.

“Do you want a cup of tea?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.

“I have one. It’s sitting on the countertop in the kitchen, but it’s probably lukewarm by now.”

The time he was gone gave Skye a chance to gather her thoughts. Children were something they had barely discussed, and there were so many other things they needed to know about each other. Perhaps Jordan would prefer to wait a few years before starting a family. It was another question to add to the long list.

Anne Marie finished the bottle; her eyes closed, and she fell more than half asleep. When Skye gently withdrew the nipple from her lips, her tiny mouth continued the sucking action. She placed the baby over her shoulder and urged her to burp by rubbing her arched back in gentle, circular movements. The release came, and Skye placed her inside the playpen, covering her with one of the blankets.

Jordan returned with their steaming drinks.

“She’s asleep,” Skye whispered, accepting the cup he handed her.

By silent agreement, they sat together on the sofa.

“Have you missed me?” Jordan asked with a coaxing smile.

She studied the steaming cup of tea. “You know I have,” she admitted freely. When he placed his arm around her shoulder she snuggled closer to his side. A contented
happiness stole over her as his body pressed close to hers.

“Then I won’t mind admitting how frustrated I’ve been these past two weeks.” The words were issued in mild exasperation.

Shifting her position slightly, she slid her arms around his middle and rested her head on the firm hardness of his shoulder.

The gentle caress of his hand against her hair was comforting and at the same time arousing.

“What’s worrying you, Skye?” Jordan asked quietly. The pressure of his lips touched the crown of her head. “The last few times we’ve talked, I’ve felt you were holding something back. It’s the most frustrating thing in the world to hear your voice and realize you need me there. Won’t you tell me what it is, sweetheart?”

A silence followed. Skye longed to tell him, pour out her doubts and fears, but she was afraid … afraid if he saw her lack of faith, it would hinder Jordan’s budding awareness of God. Dare she bare her soul again? She had left herself exposed, and there was nothing left she could disguise from him any longer. Telling Jordan about Glen had left her naked, her heart, her mind, her soul.

“What … what makes you think anything is wrong?” she asked, her back stiffening slightly.

She could feel his smile against her hair. “Other than the sign on your refrigerator door, I’d say it was the hesitation and fear I sense in your voice.”

Her arms tightened around his midsection, and she raised her face to look into the warm vibrancy of his eyes. Her fingers crept to his face, stroking the rugged jaw she had come to love so much.

“It’s Billy,” she whispered achingly. “His surgery is Monday morning. His whole life rests on the results.” Her voice trembled slightly. “I’m so afraid. Does that make me sound like a terrible Christian?”

“No,” he assured her softly, “it makes you sound very human.”

“I am human, Jordan, and so weak. Billy’s mother needs me to be strong, she’s so alone and frightened. I feel like such a phony spouting off assurances when I am really a quivering mass of doubts myself.”

Jordan’s arms tightened about her. “My dear, sweet Pollyanna, when will you learn you can’t carry the world on your shoulders?”

“I don’t know that I ever will. It seems worrying is a part of my nature, but I hate it. Sometimes I see myself as spiritually strong, and I confidently want God’s will for Billy no matter what. But I don’t have the faith to honestly trust God with Billy’s fate. I want him to walk and run and play like a normal ten-year-old. That’s the whole crux of
the matter—
my
wants.”

Jordan’s finger lifted her chin as he gazed into her troubled eyes. “But don’t you think that’s what Christ wants? I’m confident Billy is going to be fine no matter what the outcome of the surgery. As for recognizing our lack of faith, that’s good, too, because then we must rely on God, and that’s what He wants.”

Skye searched his eyes. This was Jordan speaking? This was the same man who had told her she was playing a Pollyanna game and wished to agree to disagree on spiritual matters? She immediately wanted to question him, but hesitated. Trusting Christ was new to him, and she didn’t want to rush his faith or make him uncomfortable.

“What time is the surgery Monday?” he asked.

“First thing. Betty and I are meeting at the hospital at six. Sally and a couple of other nurses are planning to come later.”

“I’ve got a conference Monday morning,” he muttered, frowning. “What are Billy’s chances for a complete recovery?”

“I … I’m not sure, but Dr. Snell told Betty there’s a fifty-fifty chance he’ll regain the use of his legs. But he also said there will be months of physical therapy, if not years. This is not some miracle cure, nor is it a simple procedure that’s going to make everything hunky-dory. Even if everything goes according to plan, it’ll be weeks before Billy can even attempt walking.”

Jordan’s fingers laced through the long strands of her honey-colored hair. “Would you like me to be with you Monday?”

“Oh, Jordan, yes. But your meeting …?” She couldn’t hide her desire to have him with her. She needed him; for the first time in eight years, she desperately needed someone to share her fears. Just knowing he would make the effort to come brought an indescribable peace.

“I can’t guarantee it, Skye, but I’ll try.”

“I know you will.” She’d been so preoccupied with her own worries, she suddenly broke contact with him. “Jordan, I’m sorry. Are you hungry? I didn’t even think to ask. How about a sandwich?”

“Dessert?” His teasing eyes questioned.

“I have some peanut butter cookies,” she said with a laugh.

“Cookies,” Jordan said distastefully. “What kind of dessert is that?”

Skye blushed briefly. “The only kind you’re going to get until things are … official?”

His gaze grew warm and possessive, and he reached inside his pocket and withdrew a small jeweler’s box.

Skye’s heartbeat tripped over itself as she accepted the package. Her blue eyes locked with his as she flipped open the plush velvet lid.

“It was my grandmother’s,” Jordan explained, his husky drawl a warm caress. “I had the jeweler clean it and adjust the size.”

Glancing into the open box, Skye gasped with pleasure. A single diamond set in an intricate gold pattern sparkled back at her. It was beautiful, more beautiful than anything she had ever seen. Simple, yet elegant; antique in style, but unique. When she raised her gaze, Skye was speechless.

“I knew you’d like it,” Jordan said simply. He took the box from her, removed the ring, and slipped it onto her finger.

Skye blinked through the wall of tears. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful engagement ring,” she mumbled ardently, her voice weak with suppressed emotion.

Jordan watched her intently, his look almost physical. In the next moment Skye was crushed against his chest. His mouth settled over hers, taking freely of her softness in a devouring kiss.

“Skye,” he whispered achingly, “this had better be a short engagement. I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off you much longer.” His mouth burned hers in another passionate kiss.

Sliding her arms around his neck, she rested her head softly against his shoulder until their breathing had returned to normal. She raised herself slightly, turning his face toward her. “I want children. I don’t want to wait to start a family.” It was a crazy thing to say under the circumstances. Before questioning her actions, she opened her lips and kissed him hard and long.

Jordan moaned and broke the contact. “Unless you wish to start our family tonight, I suggest we stop this torture.”

“Would you like a sandwich?” Skye asked apologetically. Her actions weren’t helping either of them battle the temptations of their love.

“No, but fix me one anyway.” Jordan helped her up and gave her rump a solid whack as she rose. “And no more teasing, understand?”

She nodded, her face a rosy hue. “But, Jordan, I wasn’t teasing about wanting a family right away. I do want children.”

His look darkened. “Skye,” he said, his raw voice pleading with her, “fix me that sandwich.”

Opening the refrigerator door, Skye scanned its contents for something appetizing. “Leftover roast beef okay?” She glanced toward Jordan.

“Fine.” He was standing over the slumbering baby, his look warm and tender.
“Do they always sleep this peacefully?” he asked, his voice startling Anne Marie, who woke with a feeble cry. Attempting to correct the damage, Jordan began whispering reassurances to her while casting a pleading look in Skye’s direction.

Skye grinned at him, her eyes full of amusement. “You woke her, you take care of her.”

The baby cried in earnest, and Skye laughed aloud at the frustrated, helpless look Jordan gave her.

“All right, all right.” She set the sandwich makings on the countertop. “I’m coming.”

The minute the baby was in her arms, the cries lessened. But it was obvious Anne Marie needed her diaper changed yet again; her blanket and her sleeper were moist and clammy.

“Can I help?” Jordan offered as Skye slid the safety pin through the gauze diaper.

“Give her your hand,” Skye suggested as she snapped the legs of the sleeper together.

Jordan’s gaze rushed over her skeptically before his hand smoothed the rumpled mass of her unruly curls. The taut muscles of his face relaxed as the baby cooed.

“For someone so little she has a good pair of lungs, doesn’t she?” He bent forward again, and Anne Marie firmly gripped his little finger.

Both awake and alert, Anne Marie sat on Jordan’s lap looking around curiously while Skye finished making the sandwich.

“I told you once she woke up she’d fall prey to your male charms. She hasn’t been that content all night.” She handed Jordan the sandwich and took Anne Marie.

“The kid’s on her best behavior. She knows a prospective father when she sees one.” He took a bite of the roast beef. “This is good.”

“I’m on my best behavior, too,” Skye joked. “I know a prospective husband when I see one.”

They laughed, but when their eyes met, they locked, sharing promises they were both eager to collect.

Skye broke the contact first. “How did you know my ring size?” she asked. The ring fit her perfectly.

“I’m glad you reminded me.” He pulled something from his pocket and extended his hand to her.

“What’s this?”

“The ring I took the last time I was here. I needed to know your ring size and wanted to surprise you.”

“Jordan,” she said incredulously, “you didn’t! Do you realize what you put me through? I knew the ring was on the kitchen countertop the last time you were here, and after you left it was missing.” She flushed guiltily. “I couldn’t think what might have happened to it. I’ve been looking everywhere.”

BOOK: Heartsong
8.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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