6. THREE
THREE
C aitlin’s mind spun with all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours that somehow ended with her eating dinner inside Jordan’s house, a house he built for them, as if they were the family she had always wanted. Beside her, Isabelle hummed away while she ate the macaroni and cheese that Jordan made for her, but Caitlin’s fork of lasagna froze in midair.
“What?” Jordan asked.
Caitlin blinked her eyes until they focused, finding herself staring at Jordan and feeling heat travel up her neck and land on her cheeks. “Sorry, I spaced out there for a moment.”
Jordan nodded, taking a bite and chewing before responding. “You’ve had quite the day it sounds like.” He glanced at Isabelle. “Or quite the few years.”
Caitlin snorted, setting her still-full fork down on her plate. “It has been intense.” She turned toward her daughter, love filling her as she watched Isabelle’s tiny hands feeding herself. “But so wonderful as well.”
“You’re a good mom, Caitlin. Always knew you would be.” Jordan’s voice had that serious tone to it, one that he rarely used, and it made her turn toward him again.
“Then why….” She shook her head and pulled her eyes away. “Never mind. I know why.” She stared at her half-eaten plate, trying to motivate herself to eat more, but couldn’t.
Isabelle pushed her almost empty plate back and slid off her chair. “I go play with Buster.”
Caitlin opened her mouth to protest, but Buster had rolled over, exposing his belly, tail wagging, with such a look of adoration she didn’t utter a word. “He’s a good dog.”
“Yeah, he is.” Jordan’s fork clattered against his empty plate, and his chair squeaked as he pushed back. “He’s kept me going, making this house not as lonely as it would be otherwise.”
Caitlin turned away from her daughter and the dog, keeping her head bowed as she picked up their plates and stood.
“That’s all you’re going to eat? Did you not like it?” Jordan asked, standing as well, but she couldn’t meet his eyes.
“It was good. I’m just…tired,” she said, realizing that she was more than tired. She was depleted and worn out.
“Well, we’ll have leftovers, unless your bodyguard raids the fridge in the middle of the night. I’m guessing he needs a lot of calories to keep up that figure.” Jordan laughed.
Caitlin let him take the plates, half thankful and half annoyed that Jordan always found humor regardless of the situation. It made serious discussions difficult, but it eased the pressure as well…and they had some majorly difficult discussions coming.
“He could have eaten with us, you know,” Jordan said as he came back from the kitchen.
“It’s not their way.”
“Their?”
“Yeah, uh, two more will join us.”
“Two more bodyguards?” Jordan slumped into the chair beside her.
“If it’s too much, I understand…it’s not my call. My father…”
“Has put you and your daughter in a dangerous situation…”
“It’s only precautionary.”
“And you won’t tell me what this is about?” Jordan’s stare didn’t help the mixture of emotions swirling within her.
“I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
“I mean, I was told not to tell anyone.” She stood up from the table and pushed her chair in.
Jordan stood as well, taking her arm in his hand until she met his eyes. “Not even your husband?”
Caitlin dropped her gaze. “You can’t keep playing that card.”
“There are no rules in love. You know that, and I will continue playing that card because it’s the truth.”
“It was…not anymore,” Caitlin said, dropping her voice and swallowing past the ball of guilt and remorse in her throat.
Jordan let go of her, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. “We’ll see about that. For now, I’ll accept that you’re in danger, though it would be easier to protect you if I knew from what.”
“Bad men?” Caitlin shrugged. “Besides, that’s what Miller and the others are for.”
“Then what am I for? Why here? Why run to Hope Lake?”
“It wasn’t my choice.”
Jordan ducked his head, trying to meet her eyes, but she couldn’t look into those deep brown depths and keep her secrets hidden. She knew the moment her eyes met his, the truth would spill out—all of it.
“Why wouldn’t you take my calls?” Jordan’s question pulled on her heart, tearing apart the broken pieces she had tried to piece back together over the last several years.
“I…I couldn’t…I wouldn’t have been able to leave if…if…” Caitlin bit her lip, her hold on her turbulent emotions tenuous at best.
“And why was leaving that important?” Jordan stepped closer to her.
“I had to…there was no choice. We were so unhappy, and it…it would have only gotten worse. You deserved to be happy…I deserved to be happy.” A single tear slid down her cheek.
“We were…once…together…” Jordan said, wiping the tear with his rough-skinned, gentle touch.
“Our life goals were different…” Caitlin sniffed and stepped back, giving distance to the need to fall into his arms.
Jordan stepped back against the wall, his body shifting to watch Isabelle and Buster. Her tiny voice lilted while talking with the dog. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t ready.”
Caitlin snapped her eyes up to his, but he kept them on her daughter. Their daughter. She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Time does strange things to a person,” Jordan said gently, making her open her eyes to find his on her once more. “Give me another chance, Caity.”
Caitlin’s mouth dropped open. She looked from Isabelle to him and back again. “But…”
“I know.” Jordan closed the distance between them. “I have a lot to ask forgiveness for…just…I’m not meaning right now. You have enough to deal with in this situation, but think about it?”
“There’s more to the situation that you don’t understand, Jordan…you don’t know what you’re saying…” Caitlin shook her head. She had to focus on the entire picture because if she only listened to his words, she would end up back in his arms where she wanted to be, and that wouldn’t be good for any of them…not without him knowing and accepting the truth.
“I know you have a daughter. I know what that means.” Jordan lowered enough to look into her eyes, but she tore them away as she stepped back.
“You don’t know what that means.”
Jordan sighed. “Then tell me.”
Caitlin opened her mouth, but the words froze. How did you tell someone that they had a child almost four years after the fact? Oh man, she had gotten herself into quite a hole.
“Mommy?” Isabelle rubbed her ear as she released Buster and came to her side. “It bath time?”
Caitlin breathed out a sigh of relief at the interruption as she glanced at the clock. “Oh dear, it’s past bath time. I’m sorry, sweetie.” She picked her daughter up and glanced at Jordan. “Mind if we use your bath?”
“My home is your home. Towels are in the cupboard.” Jordan moved to pick up the rest of the things on the table and head into the kitchen.
Caitlin’s gaze followed him for several moments until Isabelle wiggled in her arms.
“I tired, Mommy.”
“Yes, okay, sweetie. I’m sorry. Let’s get you all ready for bed.”
During her bath, Isabelle didn’t talk nearly as much as normal. She rubbed her ear and yawned, allowing Caitlin to wash her quickly.
“Here we go,” Caitlin said as she wrapped Isabelle in a plush towel.
“I like this towel. It so soft!” Isabelle nestled into it. Once in jammies and in bed, she said, “Mommy, I like your friend, Jordie. I like Buster, too.”
“I’m glad that you like them.”
“Can we see the water tomorrow?”
“Hope Lake?”
“Yeah,” she said, snuggling against Caitlin in the large bed in the guest room. “You sleep with me tonight, Mommy?”
“Yes, sweetie. I’m sleeping with you tonight. You’re safe.”
“I know, Mommy. You make me safe and Jordie, too.” She closed her eyes, wrapping around Caitlin’s arm. “Sing me sleep, Mommy.”
Caitlin kissed her daughter’s forehead, then sang their goodnight song while resting her head against her daughter’s. Breathing in the scent of her hair and freshly cleaned skin filled her with a sense of rightness. As much as it hurt leaving Jordan, as much as she wanted him, her daughter meant everything, and she would never change that.
Fear coursed through her as she thought of telling Jordan the truth. Before, she had thought he would be happy that she had stolen away, never asking him to be a part of something he so clearly told her he didn’t want. She buffered the loss of him with the belief that she was doing him a favor.
Now, watching him with Isabelle, having him bring her gifts, sitting down and playing with her…he didn’t act like she thought he would.
If she told him…what if instead of welcoming them with open arms or sending them out packing, what if he didn’t want Caitlin but fought for Isabelle? Her blood turned ice cold at the thought. She couldn’t live without her daughter…not even every other weekend.
No, she had to find a way to make him understand, but she did have to tell him the truth. She knew that deep in her bones, even if they quivered with fright from the idea. He deserved to know, and Isabelle deserved to know her father…if that’s what he wanted.
She focused on her daughter’s sweet face, knowing there would be sacrifices and fearing what the cost would be, but knowing that she had to be the person she wanted her daughter to be…honest.
Once Isabelle’s breathing had shifted to deep puffs and she knew she wouldn’t disturb her by leaving the bed, Caitlin drew up her resolve, said a quick prayer for courage and guidance in the upcoming conversation, and slipped out of the bed.
She placed a pillow on each side of Isabelle, knowing she was being overly cautious, but the bed was much higher than her little toddler bed at home. With one last lingering glance at her peaceful daughter, she summoned her courage and left the room, as ready as she would ever be to share the truth with Jordan.
The house was quiet, and she found him lying on the couch, their old, ratted, hand-me-down sofa her parents had given them when they were newlyweds. The faded piece of furniture stood out in the new, sleek house full of open-concept and updated appliances.
Why had he kept it?
Jordan murmured in his sleep, the soft corners of his lips turning up in a brief smile. She used to love watching him smile in his sleep.
What had happened to them that her first thought had been to run? To hide the truth from him?
And what good did it do, for here she was, right back where she started watching him with hope.
Could they really heal the hurt the past had laid upon them? And find the happiness that had once had them riding high on elation?
Were those memories sleeping, only waiting to be awoken, or was the hope of forgiveness as fleeting as the sun had been through this last storm?
She bit her lip, shifting her weight, wrestling with the idea of waking him so she could get this moment over with. As she took a step toward him, a soft click of a latch on the front door had her spinning around, heart in her throat.
Miller stood there, eyes intense, but he broke the contact to softly close the door behind him, then motioned for her to approach. She glanced at Jordan, still fast asleep, and tiptoed to Miller.
“What is it?” Her heart raced and palms sweated from the look in his dark eyes.
“Your father was right in having you leave.” Miller’s eyes shifted to Jordan as he moaned in his sleep, then back to her. “Douglas stayed back to watch your house. Two perps broke through a window.”
She gasped, covering her mouth and blinking back tears of shock.
“They stole away when Douglas came after them, so we can’t say for certain it was who we think they were, but either way, it’s good you aren’t there.”
“Oh my goodness…” She dropped her hands and leaned against the wall.
“Is there anything that can lead them here? Did you tell anyone where you were going?”
“I didn’t tell anyone. Didn’t have time to.” Not to mention no friends to speak of beyond her friendly neighborhood grandparent. “I do have pictures…but certainly they didn’t go through those, right?”
Miller’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know how far they would go. Tell me where anything of that sort of information is, and I’ll have Douglas acquire them.”
Caitlin couldn’t believe herself as she shared the information with Miller. This all sounded like some movie, not a reality, especially not her reality. What if they had been home…what would they have done to her or her daughter? The thought sent her knees wobbling.
“We’ll protect you and Isabelle, Caitlin.” Miller grasped her arm. “For now, stay on this man’s good side. The property is a suitable location and easily fortified, even if he gets in the way.”
Caitlin raised an eyebrow.
“I know, but it’s the truth. Your father’s rental is too close to town, and with the lake right there…it would have been more difficult to protect.” Miller looked beyond her to Jordan’s sleeping form again. “Stay on his good side.”
Caitlin bit her lip…did that mean she should keep the truth from him a bit longer?
Jordan woke with a kink in his neck as the birds began their morning song. Cold seeped in from the sliding glass doors and large windows unchallenged by the wood stove, which had lost its heat. The day would warm, but as fall encroached upon the mountain, the nights and early mornings carried a seasonal chill.
Jordan rubbed his cramped neck as he sat on the couch. The click-clacking of Buster’s claws on the wood floor had him smiling at the dog, who nosed into his leg asking for pets. After giving his faithful pup some good scratches, he set to work rebuilding the fire, letting himself wake up and memories take hold.
His hands froze with a piece of wood halfway into the wood stove as he remembered who slept down the hall.
Caitlin.
His heart raced, surging adrenaline through him stronger than any cup of coffee could, and he was instantly alert and even more chilled. Setting the wood onto the low-lapping flames, he stepped back, watching the fire grow in fury and warmth as he wrapped his mind around the changes yesterday brought.
Caitlin was back and with a daughter.
Jordan smiled as he sat back on his heels, watching the flames. He could sit back and watch Isabelle for hours as she flitted from one thing to another, pouring forth questions that she didn’t always wait to hear the answers for before chasing after the next curiosity.
Caitlin had had her hands full…and doing it all alone. He shook his head, anger at the missing father fueling him into a stand. How could a man step aside and leave a woman like Caitlin and an infant?
His heart clenched as he wondered what he would have done years ago, before he had a change of mind about children…and the anger turned inward.
How had he been so blind and let her leave?
The cold wrapped its claws around him, making him shiver. The wood stove wasn’t putting out enough heat yet, but he needed to get warm before his muscles seized. He glanced at the door, wondering if the bodyguard stood outside or if he had deemed his place safe enough that he allowed himself to rest behind the closed door off the entryway.
The day outside barely lightened, granting only enough glow to see down the hallway to his open door at the end. The guest room door stood slightly ajar, and Jordan’s lips tugged, realizing that Caitlin still couldn’t handle sleeping in a room with a closed door.
Unable to help himself, he peeked into the room, his heart lurching at the sweet innocence of Caitlin’s sleeping face and how her arms wrapped protectively around her daughter. She was a good mom…he couldn’t deny her that.
The anger at himself only grew, pushing him away from the sweet scene and back into his cold bedroom. Going back to bed wasn’t an option this late in the game, but a warm shower called to him. Time to regroup, warm up, and decide how he would play this day with Caitlin.
He washed his hair, feeling the weariness leave him as the hot water warmed him and cooled his anger at the same time.
Caitlin was here.
He didn’t know how long or how it even happened, but she was and now was his chance…maybe his only chance. The only decision was to succeed. There was no other option.
His memories went back to Tyler’s wedding, to the conversation he had with Chasity, and the resolve he had felt afterward. He had changed, and what he had told her was the truth. Having a family, though still scary, sounded better and better.
Now with Caitlin here with Isabelle, it all seemed perfect, maybe almost too perfect, but he wouldn’t pass it up. Reality snapped into him as he turned off the faucet…but Derrick’s words hit him: you can raise another man’s child?
Yet, as he dried off and dressed, he thought further into it, his annoyance with Derrick growing the entire time. Derrick was raising another man’s child, and he loved Kami as much as he loved his own baby.
Tyler had taken on Krista, and no one would know that girl wasn’t his own daughter if they didn’t know their story.
Jordan wiped off the steam from the mirror, looking into his own eyes with determination. He would win Caitlin back, and he would raise her daughter as his own. He could be that man.
A small niggling thought tugged at him as he pulled the comb through his hair and smoothed a hand down his stubble, wondering if he should shave. Caitlin hadn’t said anything about him letting his beard grow…well, kind of grow. He trimmed it once a week.
The thought kept coming at him until he finally allowed it to play out, watching Isabelle in his mind, counting the years and months and playing with dates when Caitlin had left. Could it be that…no…he shook his head, unable to even let himself finish the thought.
Down the hall he heard a playful bark from Buster, and he strode out to see what had the dog excited. A squeal of happiness soon followed, and he slowed his pace. He should have known.
“Look, Mommy. He like it. I give him kisses.”
“Why are you awake…what time is it? Aren’t you still tired?” Caitlin’s sleepy tone brought memories rushing forth.
She hated mornings. Even on mornings of grand adventures, she always groaned and complained, asking why they had to wake before the sun…even if their plan had been to see the sunrise from the peak.
Jordan leaned against the doorjamb. “I see you haven’t had a change of heart about mornings.”
Caitlin pushed up in bed, her eyes widening as they focused on him and her mouth dropping slightly open. After a couple blinks, she glanced around the room and back to him. “I, uh, well…”
“It’s okay. It took a few minutes for reality to take hold of me this morning as well.” He smiled, his eyes taking in her messy hair, sleep-hazed gaze, and the old t-shirt of his she wore. “I’m glad it did, though.”
Caitlin watched him for a few breaths before she plopped back onto her pillow with a groan.
“I’ll try not to take that personally,” he said with a laugh.
“Come on, sugar cakes.” He turned his gaze to the miniature Caitlin, who stared at him with wide eyes. “Let’s allow your mama some extra sleep. You like pancakes, or would you rather have boring old cereal?”
Isabelle twisted onto her stomach and pushed off the bed, slowing her pace until her toes hit the ground. “Both!”
“Oh, you’re a big eater, huh?” Jordan said, holding out a hand.
“Wait…” Caitlin said, sitting back up, pulling the blanket that Isabelle had pulled off to cover her bare legs.
“I got this,” Jordan said. “You need rest.” He turned from her as Isabelle yanked on his hand, pulling him down the hall. “Hold on, sugar cakes. The pancakes aren’t going anywhere.”
Jordan set her up with a bowl of cereal at the table while he pulled out the pancake mix and heated the pan.
“I help mix.” Isabelle shimmied off the chair, wearing her milk-mustache proudly.
“Here,” he said, taking a paper towel and wiping her face.
“Ugh, why grownups do that?” She wiped her mouth with her sleeve.
“Well, if you wait until it dries then it’s hard to get off, and then mom’s lick their thumbs and rub it hard to get it off. It’s much better to wipe it right away.”
“Oh,” she said, trying to reach the counter. “Where the stool?”
“I don’t have a stool…” He thought for a moment, then pulled out a chair. “Here. Stand on this.”
“Mommy says no standing on chairs.”
“Well, I have different rules at my house.” Jordan picked her up and stood her on the chair. “But don’t fall off, otherwise your mama is going to have my head.”
“It a nice head.” Isabelle cocked her head as she appraised his.
Jordan laughed. “You're a kick in the pants, kid.” He turned to read the instructions on the package, then pulled out a measuring cup, never going an arm’s distance from the girl. “Here, you measure out one of these, and I’ll get the eggs.”
When he turned back to Isabelle, flour sprayed up in the air as she dumped the cup from a foot above the bowl. She coughed and waved her hand, but when she smiled up at him with her face covered in flour, his heart wrenched and he swore he had just fallen in love.
“I did it!” She squealed and clapped her hands.
“You sure did,” he said, eyeing the white speckled countertops and the flour dusting her pajamas. He shrugged it off, measured out the milk and eggs, and handed her the wooden spoon to mix the ingredients.
What she did he wouldn’t describe as mixing, but the proud smile that filled her face was worth every splash of pancake mix on the counter and the floor and her clothes. If nothing else, Buster was having a good time.
“Doggy help. He clean up.” Isabelle giggled. “Good doggy.”
“Yes, Buster is a good boy…and this morning, a lucky one.”
“Lucky doggy.” She turned her smile on Jordan. “I lucky.”
“You do have the best mommy in the world,” Jordan said as he took the abandoned bowl and spoon to mix the ingredients, sliding the spoon along the sides and bottoms to reveal huge pockets of dry pancake mix.
“Best mommy ever.” She clapped her hands. “You best ever, too.”
“Why thank you,” he said, bending to kiss the top of her head, surprising himself at the desire to do such a thing.
“Oh my goodness,” Caitlin’s voice had heat streaking up his neck and filling his face.
Had she caught him kissing her daughter on the head?
“What in the world are you two doing to this kitchen?”
“Make pancakes!” Isabelle cheered, sitting on the chair before jumping off and launching herself into Caitlin’s arms.
“Now, we’ll both need baths,” Caitlin said, but her voice only held warmth.
“Sorry she got so messy. I didn’t realize that…” He stopped, seeing those wide brown eyes staring up at him. “Isabelle was such a good cook.”
Isabelle smiled again, looking at her mom with pride.
“She is that. You like to help cook, don’t you?” Caitlin hugged her.
“I big helper.”
“That you are,” Jordan said with a laugh, finding himself lost in the scene and forgetting to mix the batter.
“Well, we better get you all cleaned up.” Caitlin stood up, looking back at Jordan once at the doorway. “Thank you.”
“It was fun,” Jordan said.
Caitlin watched him, her eyes moistening and her lips quivering.
“What?” Jordan dropped the bowl and spoon, ready to pull her in his arms if those tears released.
“I…I just…I didn’t know you had this,” she looked at the pancakes, the flour covered counter, and her flour covered daughter, “in you.”
“I didn’t either.” He smiled sheepishly. “But it’s kinda cool, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, it’s cool…” But she didn’t smile; instead, she turned away and disappeared, her voice fading as she talked to Isabelle all the way down the hall.
Had he moved too fast? He shook his head as he went back to making breakfast, not knowing what he said to make her react the way she did. Soon the smell of pancakes filling the air had him focusing on the task at hand. By the time the girls returned to the kitchen in clean clothes with clean faces and Isabelle’s hair up in two pigtails, he had a big plate full of pancakes waiting on the table.
“My one specialty,” he said in a laugh as he set the syrup down, motioning for them to sit and eat.
“Yeah, but you always did them well,” Caitlin said, almost shyly.
“Oh, so you’ve missed my pancakes?” He waggled his eyebrows.
Caitlin rewarded him with a small chuckle as she set Isabelle in a chair and dished her up a pancake, cutting it into bite-sized pieces. “Only a little syrup,” she said as she helped her daughter pour the syrup. “That seems about right.”
“I want more,” Isabelle pouted.
“More would be yummy, and I bet when you’re older, you’ll make a whole pool of syrup for your pancakes. For today, this is enough.”
“Fine,” Isabelle said, grabbing her fork and stuffing her mouth full, leaving smudges of syrup on her cheek and chin.
“What?” Caitlin asked, pulling her gaze away from Isabelle and to him. “I’ll clean it up. I know things get messy with a three-year-old.”
Jordan’s heart hammered as he tried to reconfigure the math in his head. “She’s three?”
“She,” Caitlin blinked rapidly as her voice caught. “She was premature, so she’s on the small side, but she’ll catch up.” She smoothed her daughter’s hair.
“My birthday in June,” Isabelle said through a mouth full of pancake.
“Isabelle Juliet, you don’t talk with your mouth full.”
“Juliet?” Jordan asked, still numb and mind half counting months, but the name pulled him from his calculations.
“Yeah,” Caitlin glanced at him and then away. “I wanted her to be luckier in love than me.”
“I wouldn’t exactly say Juliet was lucky in love…you do know how the story ends?” Jordan met her eyes, his lips twitching as he saw the horror playing in them. “It’s okay.” He took her hand. “We get to write our own endings and it’s a beautiful name.”