I Promise (15 page)

“Are you sleeping with my niece?”

The air rushed out of Jordan's lungs but he hid his shock with an awkward laugh.

Not amused, Pete waited.

“Pete!” Bobby bellowed from somewhere within the house.

The older man's shoulders slumped as he rolled his eyes heavenward and headed toward the door. He stopped at the entrance. “We'll finish this discussion later,” he warned, then left.

Jordan shook his head. “I can hardly wait.”

C
hristian sat on her bed and stared at the phone. In the back of her mind, she knew she had to make the call, but every fiber of her being was afraid. She dropped her head into the palms of her hands. A dull ache throbbed at her temples.

She took a deep breath, then snatched the handset off the cradle and dialed a number from memory.

“Dr. Murphy's office.”

Christian swallowed the lump of fear wedged in her throat. “Yes. I need to make an appointment.”

 

Malcolm took his time shaking hands with each member of the board. Opulence's new direction had everyone bursting with excitement. When his father approached him with pride gleaming in his eyes, Malcolm's breath caught in his throat.

Noah extended his hand. “That had to be the best presentation I have ever witnessed.”

“Thank you.” Malcolm pumped Noah's hand.

“I mean it, son. I'm proud of you.”

Malcolm smiled as his chest swelled with pride.

Daniel interrupted their private moment. “I think we're a hit,” he said, slapping his buddy's back.

The men laughed. Noah offered his hand to his company's new partner. “You know, I used to know your father, Mr. Finley. I know he'd be proud to know that you've turned out to be a chip off the old block.”

“Thanks. Since you caught me smoking your favorite cigars in high school, you've earned the right to call me Daniel.”

“Very well, then. Daniel, I hope you'll join us at Opulence's promotional party tomorrow night.”

“I wouldn't miss it for the world.” He turned to Malcolm. “But I think it's time we have a little celebration of our own. Care to join me for a drink at our favorite bar?”

Malcolm smiled. “Now I wouldn't miss that for the world.”

 

Christian joined her grandmother in the kitchen to help her prepare the dinner. She had only been home for a few hours and her spirits had already lifted. She went to the sink and washed her hands, then gathered the ingredients to make the salad.

As Bobby hummed a soft tune, Christian didn't have to turn around to know her grandmother watched her every move. Finally, she joined her by the counter with her hands propped on her hips. “Well?”

Christian focused her questioning gaze on Bobby. “Well, what?”

“Well aren't you going to tell me about your male friend?”

Unable to stop the smile that fluttered at her lips, Christian shook her head. “There is nothing to tell.” She turned her attention to the salad.

An unladylike grunt resonated from Bobby. “You must think I was born yesterday. I've seen that look on a man before, honey. And that extra pep in your step ain't no coincidence either.”

Christian laughed as an embarrassing heat rose in her face. “He's just a friend, Bobby.”

“Uh-huh. Then why are you blushing?”

“Because you're studying me like I'm under a microscope or something. You're making me feel uncomfortable.”

“Why? You got something to hide?”

She faced her grandmother with her arms crossed. “No.”

“Well, why not?” Bobby tossed up her hands, exasperated. “You're a good-looking woman. Lord knows he's fine.”

Christian smacked Bobby's arm while a spreading smile possessed her lips. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

“Why? Ain't nothing wrong with a little window-shopping every once in a while.” She fanned herself with her hand. “I tell you what. If I was a few years younger, I might give you a run for your money.”

With her eyes wide in disbelief, Christian laughed. “You're impossible.”

“And you're crazy if you let him get away.” Bobby glanced out the kitchen window. “I mean just look at him.”

Christian's gaze followed her grandmother's. Jordan, dressed to resemble the other men on the ranch, climbed atop of Ghost, Pete's favorite horse.

“What is he doing?”

“Apparently, attempting suicide.”

Before Jordan had settled his other foot in the stirrup, Ghost bucked and kicked up a cloud of dust.

Christian turned, but Bobby placed a firm hand on her shoulder. “Now remember. Men tend to have inflated egos, so don't go running out there and doing something that might embarrass him.”

“Saving his life is going to embarrass him?”

Bobby shrugged. “I didn't say they had all their marbles.”

 

Jordan hit the ground, knocking the air out of his lungs. Every bone in his body ached. After rising to a dozen challenges from the McKinley men, he had no doubts that he would regret this evening by morning.

Mace, Christian's first cousin, slapped Jordan's back as he helped him off the ground. “I have to hand it to you. You've got guts.”

Jordan winced, but managed to dust himself off. “I feel like a rodeo clown.”

“You must really be in love,” Mace laughed.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, everyone knows you're out here killing yourself only to impress my cousin. It's either that, or you've hit your head one too many times.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“It's almost pathetic,” Mace said with a widening grin. “Of course, you got all the other women up there fanning themselves. We ain't seen nothing like it since Aunt Bobby hired those male strippers for her sixtieth birthday party.”

Embarrassment heated Jordan's face. At least now he could stop trying to kill himself.

Pete clapped his hands as he walked toward Mace and Jordan. “I swear I ain't never seen any man fly through the air quite like you do, city slicker.” He stopped in front of Jordan. “Now that takes talent.”

Mace laughed at his uncle's joke, while Jordan smirked.

“But I suggest you get cleaned up,” Pete changed the subject. “Bobby said supper will be served shortly.”

Jordan nodded and took a step. His leg muscles tightened, causing him to limp the rest of the way to the house.

Mace and Pete laughed in his wake.

When Jordan reached the front porch, Christian stood there with her arms crossed, shaking her head at him. “Mind if I ask why you're trying to commit suicide?”

Pulling his body erect, he forced a smile to his lips. “Aww, it wasn't so bad. I think I'm actually getting the hang of it.”

Christian laughed, making everything seem worth the pain.

“You know,” she said. “In the morning, you'll be lucky if you can climb out of bed.”

“Maybe you could serve me breakfast in bed.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

“I wouldn't count on it.” She smiled and turned away from the staircase.

“Oh, by the way,” he called after her. “Why didn't you tell me Bobby was your grandmother?”

She faced him again. “Maybe I like the thought of you being jealous.”

Her simple answer knocked the smugness from his smile.

Within the hour, Jordan sat at the dinner table, laughing at the wild stories of Bobby and Dylan's courtship.

The older gentleman had made it an annual event to propose to the feisty grandmother every year at the annual family reunion, and every year she accepted. However, they never made it down the aisle.

“Now, Jordan, tell us a little about yourself. Were you a student at GSU as well?” Bobby asked.

Every woman at the table turned interested ears toward him, which caused a low rumble of laughter from the men.

“Well, yes, ma'am. Years ago, actually. Now I'm president of my own computer software company.”

“Oh, now doesn't that sound interesting, ladies?” Bobby inquired, then turned her attention to Christian. “Where did you two meet?”

Her cheeks turned burgundy and Jordan couldn't help but laugh.

“Looks like this may be an interesting story.” Bobby glanced between them.

“We, ah, met at a party,” Christian answered, reaching for her water.

“Uh-huh. What kind of party?”

Christian's eyes darted to Jordan for help.

“I believe,” Jordan cut in, “It was her engagement party.”

“What?” everyone at the table thundered at Christian.

Her heated gaze reached Jordan and another rumble of laughter shook his chest. “Actually she turned the poor man down.”

“Well.” Bobby's face flustered. “Who was he? Why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone?”

“I wasn't seeing him. He was just a friend. I didn't know he was infatuated with me.”

“Who is he?” Bobby insisted.

“He is my twin brother,” Jordan answered, once again, drawing everyone's attention.

Pete shook his head. “This is starting to sound like one of those soap operas you watch, Bobby.”

Bobby dropped a hand to her hip. “Now you know you're the only one who watches those things around here.”

Everyone at the table laughed.

“And take off that hat when you're sitting at my table,” she snapped. “I don't know why I have to constantly tell you that.”

Contrite, Pete removed his hat. His gaze dared anyone at the table to continue to laugh at him.

“Will you excuse me?” Christian asked, standing before anyone had the chance to stop her.

Bobby excused herself as well.

Jordan returned his attention to his meal, but was aware of everyone's eyes focused on him.

 

Christian rushed to the comfort of her bedroom and fell across the bed. A knock at the door ended her brief privacy. When she refused to answer, Bobby opened the door and poked her head through the narrow opening.

“Can I come in?”

Christian sat up and brushed away the tears that slid down her face.

“Oh, dear. I hope my prying hasn't upset you this much.” She entered the room and closed the door behind her. “I was just curious how you met your friend, that's all.”

Christian shook her head. “No. It's not that.” She fought for control of her emotions. “It's more than that.”

“Well, tell me what's wrong. You can confide in me, Chrissy.”

Hesitating to tell her grandmother the truth of her mood swings, Christian took a deep breath and prayed for strength. “I made an appointment with Dr. Murphy tomorrow.”

Bobby's mouth formed a perfect circle. “Oh dear, don't tell me you're pregnant.”

Christian shook her head, unable to prevent her tears from flowing. “No. This morning, I felt a lump in my right breast.”

J
ordan dusted off his dirt-covered jeans with hard, vicious strokes. Humiliation churned and scorched the base of his neck as an assembly of wranglers and stable men snickered and guffawed at his expense.

Pete slapped Jordan's back in a gesture to console him, but the laughter that danced in his eyes told the real story. “Don't you worry none. Angel pretty much don't take to city folks too well.”

Another burst of laughter from the crowd completed Jordan's embarrassment. He suppressed the urge to rub his backside, determined to hold on to a piece of his pride, however small.

“I take it I'm not the first sucker lured down here under the pretense that Angel here was named for her character?”

“Are you accusing me of something, greenhorn?” Pete's attempt to appear indignant failed.

Jordan half expected to see canary feathers peeking between the older man's teeth. “Yeah. It's called deception, old man.”

Pete's sparkling, white teeth flashed in sharp contrast to his midnight complexion. “You know around here those words mean you're challenging me to a brawl, or a free round of drinks down at the oasis. Which is it?”

A wide grin broadened Jordan's features. He liked Pete. “I guess it would have to be the latter 'cause something tells me you fight dirty.”

With lifted brows, Pete slapped a hand across his heart. “You wound me.”

“Then we're even.”

Pete's head snapped back as a deep hearty laugh rumbled from his chest.

Jordan shook his head as he snickered at the man's dramatics.

“You know city boy, you're awright with me.”

The crowd dispersed. Mace led Angel toward the stable.

A car's engine pulled Jordan's attention. Christian drove off in a black Bronco from the main house with a cloud of dust swirling behind her.

Where was she going so early? A person would have to have been blind not to notice her forlorn expression throughout dinner last night.

When he could no longer see her vehicle coasting down the ranch's long pathway, he exhaled and shook his head.

“It's a shame,” Pete muttered under his breath.

Jordan's brows furrowed as he looked over his shoulder at Pete's disheartened expression. He stopped short of inquiring to what Pete meant by this comment. To do so would invade Christian's privacy.

Pete shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder why the Lord sees fit to put such a gentle soul through so much.”

Jordan nodded in agreement, neither stopping nor encouraging him to continue the direction of the conversation. In his heart, he welcomed any information that could make him further understand Christian. And he wanted to understand.

As Pete started for the house, Jordan walked beside him.

“You know since her parents' accident, she's been cursed with one tragedy after another,” Pete said, his hushed voice sounded as if he was talking to himself. “'Course, we all realized that it was a miracle that she'd survived the car crash herself.”

Pete snatched his hat from his head, revealing his low-cropped and tapered hair. “I remember like it was yesterday. She was seven when she came to live with Bobby and me. Cute as a button she was…and smart,” he emphasized with a low whistle, then fell silent again as though reliving those lost days.

Jordan stole a glance at the rugged wrangler, surprised by the sudden gloss in the older man's eyes.

“As time passed,” Pete continued, “she accepted her parents' death and embraced life here on the ranch with open arms.”

A picture of a young Christian formed in Jordan's mind. He imagined the sad little girl struggling to come to terms with her parents' death and having to face her own mortality.

“But I don't think anything could have prepared her for what came next.”

Jordan's heart dropped. He was finally going to hear the piece of the puzzle that Christian fought to keep from him. He swallowed. His conscience raged that he should stop Pete. If Christian wanted him to know something, he should wait for her to tell him, right? He opened his mouth but his protest died in this throat.

Pete stopped and turned his bold gaze toward Jordan. “I know that we've only known each other for a short while, Jordan.”

It was the first time Pete had addressed him by his name and Jordan realized that none of the information he had listened to was by accident. Peter wanted him to know the truth and Jordan found himself wondering why.

“Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” Pete asked, placing his hat atop his head.

“Of course not.”

“Do you love her?”

Stunned by the direct question, Jordan met Pete's gaze. “Yes.” He answered, surprised by the sudden weight lifted from his shoulders. When had he fallen in love with her? The image of her standing alone in his parents' gardens came to mind and he had his answer. He had fallen in love with her the moment he had laid eyes on her.

A mischievous gleam sparkled in Pete's eyes. “I knew it.” He slapped the sides of his legs, proud of his assessment. “I got a feeling that she feels the same way about you.”

“I wish I was as confident as you are,” Jordan chuckled. “Here lately, I have the feeling that she would like nothing more than to see my butt hauled back to Atlanta.”

Pete laughed. “You know you're starting to sound more like a Texan. But don't you worry none. My money's on you, city boy.”

“Please, call me Jordan.”

“Yeah, whatever. Like I said, we're all rooting for you. If you're serious, like I think you are, you're going to need a little inside information as to why my little niece is pushing you away. And I'm not about to stand here and let her throw her chance at happiness away.

“But what I'm about to tell you is the real test. So I'm going to ask you. Are you sure Christian is who you want? And I'm not talking about just for some heavy petting, all you young 'uns seem to want. I'm talking about marriage. As in forever?”

Jordan admired Pete's directness. As he stood at the threshold of a decision that would forever change the course of his life, he knew what he wanted. “I swear to you. I have never been so sure of anything in my entire life.”

“Then I suggest that we go inside because you're going to have to sit down for this one.”

 

Christian removed the examination gown and shuddered at the cold air that flowed from the overhead vents. She reached for the unattractive beige bra with its probing pouch and secured it around her body.

A few minutes later, Nancy, the nurse, peeked around the door. “Are we all done?” she asked brightly.

Forcing a smile, Christian nodded.

The nurse entered the room with a chart in her hands. Her kind face radiated warmth when she touched Christian's shoulder. Christian appreciated Nancy's concern.

“Dr. Murphy will be in in just a few minutes.”

Christian nodded, averting her gaze to concentrate on buttoning her blouse. Her hands trembled.

She looked up. She didn't want the sympathy mirrored in the older woman's gaze.

“Have faith,” were the nurse's only words.

Grateful for the comfort that surrounded her heart, Christian nodded. “Thank you,” she said with a genuine smile. She finished dressing and sat in a vacant chair to wait for the doctor.

A quick knock rapped at the door.

Dr. Murphy strode into the chilled room with his usual smile already carved into place. He'd been Christian's primary doctor since high school and had been both her grandmother's and mother's doctor as well.

The relationship established between them wasn't unlike that of a father and daughter. Strange that in the midst of modern technology, Dr. Murphy had built a reputation for not only his bedside manner, or his willingness to make house calls, but for not being afraid to know when to shut off error-prone machines to use an old-fashioned stethoscope.

“How are we doin', Chrissy?”

The nickname he'd picked up from her mother years ago never ceased to elicit a smile from Christian.

“I'm a little nervous, to tell you the truth.”

Nancy handed him Christian's chart.

He removed his reading glasses from his lab coat's breast pocket, then flipped open the file. His lips pressed together in a firm, grim line.

“You can be blunt with me, doctor.” She met his gaze. She held her hands clenched together.

“The lump you felt did show up on the mammogram. Given your history with breast cancer, I recommend an excisional biopsy to remove it.”

Christian's lungs burned. She expelled the long rush of air she hadn't realized she'd held. “When?” she asked, closing her eyes to gather her composure.

“The sooner, the better.”

Unable to trust her voice, she nodded.

Nancy rubbed Christian's back, encouraging her to lift her spirits.

“How about Monday morning?” she whispered. Her voice quaked with emotion.

“Nancy will see to it that you're scheduled.”

“Thank you.” Christian lifted a weary hand to rest against her temples.

Dr. Murphy pulled up a chair and sat in front of her. When he took her hands in his, he waited until she was able to look at him.

Though his kind chestnut-colored eyes stroked her face with open concern, determination lined the corners.

“I know you opted to wait before considering breast reconstruction for your left breast.”

Christian nodded, swallowing the emotional lump that threatened to choke her.

He squeezed her hand. “Now, I understand if this is something you're still not prepared to do. There is no need to rush into anything.”

Maintaining eye contact, Christian spoke and cringed at the tremor in her voice. “What are the risks?”

Dr. Murphy nodded as he withdrew, leaning back again in his chair. “I'm not going to lie to you. There's always a chance of complications in any type of surgery. Though they're relatively uncommon for this type of procedure.”

She shifted.

“The most common problem, however, is when the capsule around the implant tightens and causes the breast to feel hard. Even in that case, there are still options.”

Christian struggled with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. In the past year, she'd adjusted to the loss of her left breast. She had her good days but here lately, they were few and far between. She thought of Jordan and the backs of her eyes stung, but she wiped them dry as she asked the doctor the question foremost in her mind.

“What about children?”

Dr. Murphy lowered his gaze.

Christian's eyes misted as she laced her trembling hands together.

He removed his glasses. “Your low chance of conception has nothing to do with the breast cancer.”

A sad smile ghosted around her lips. She lost the battle with her tears as they crested and settled in the fine lines of her lashes. “I know.”

“I'm sorry, Chrissy.” He grasped her hands again. “Your parents' car crash—”

“I understand,” she cut him off. The last thing she wanted to do was relive that night.

She drew in a shaky breath. She knew better than to believe there was a silver lining in her dark cloud of life. Jordan would be leaving for Atlanta soon and the best thing she should hope for was to never see him again.

Tears slid from her eyes.