Chapter Nine #2
“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.”
A grimness settled over him. “I didn’t think you’d miss it. I should have said something; I only meant to keep the ring a
few days. As you know I got tied up and it’s been two weeks. I can only imagine what you must have assumed. I would never
steal from you, Skye.”
“I know that,” she said. “I’ve promised to be your wife, and with that commitment comes my trust. No matter what was missing,
I would never believe you’d take anything from me.”
A brooding look came over him. “You mean you trust me unquestioningly?”