Chapter 23
The look on EJ’s face haunted him the rest of the day, then through church the next.
He’d been tempted to plead jet lag for not going today but figured that could hardly fly when he’d managed to spend an entire afternoon fencing yesterday.
So instead, he’d made sure to arrive late and sit in the back with some visitors on the opposite side of where the Bennetts sat.
Then, as soon as the sermon was finished and Pastor Bryan prayed, he stole out the door, knowing that Elinor, on computer projector duties at the back, had seen him sneak away.
And yes, he was being a coward, but he needed time to figure out what to say.
His parents hadn’t asked too many questions this morning, thank goodness.
Maybe they’d just figured he was still tired.
And he was. He was tired of not knowing how to progress in conquering these feelings for his best friend.
When she’d shown up yesterday so unexpectedly, he’d frozen.
Earlier, he’d been grateful for the chance to work off his confusing emotions, and then, bam, there she was.
A man needed time to figure out what to say.
A woman couldn’t come waltzing up in her jeans and boots holding out lemon tarts like she did this all the time.
That wasn’t the EJ he knew. It wasn’t the EJ his parents knew, either.
His phone vibrated with a message. Not EJ. She’d left a dozen messages, but none since yesterday. Which made him wonder just what would happen now.
A tap came at the door. Mum. “Oh, here you are. Look, I wanted to let you know that Elizabeth asked if we could do another bonfire here this Saturday night for Liv and Liam’s engagement party. Did you have plans?”
“No.”
“Good! Well, we’re planning a barbecue and cake, maybe some fireworks if we can get the permit sorted in time. That sounds like fun, right?”
“Sure.”
She frowned. “Jordan, is something the matter? You’ve been awfully quiet ever since EJ came yesterday. Oh, I need to get used to calling her Emma-Jane again. Can you believe it?”
“Wow.” Emma-Jane? Why had she stopped with EJ?
She nodded, her greying blonde bun flopping vigorously. “Elizabeth tells me she’s like a different girl. She’s not planning to go back to Sydney either.”
“Really?” Huh. “I didn’t know.”
“Hmm. Maybe you would know if you took the time to talk to her.”
He exhaled. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Oh, that’s easy, Son.” She smiled. “Just say what you have done all your life.”
“And what’s that?”
“The truth.”
The week passed in a welter of procrastination.
He hadn’t received any more messages from EJ—Emma-Jane.
But neither had he sent any. It seemed crazy to think the two of them with so much to say to each other continued with this stalemate and their parallel lives.
But he didn’t want to speak too soon and say things wrong.
And neither did he want to be a rebound for her experience with Eric.
Not that he thought whatever she and Eric had was particularly real.
But as he prayed, he sensed that delay wasn’t such a bad thing.
That it gave more time to heal. For God to heal both of them.
And he would rather speak to her with a healed heart than with one that remained seeping pus from self-inflicted wounds.
Saturday dawned, and after a week of doing Donwell work remotely, Jordan was glad again for the opportunity to use physical labour in piling high the bonfire that would be used tonight.
Mum was busy baking, and the Bennetts had been dropping off various items for tonight.
At least Katie and Elinor had. Liv and Liam too.
EJ—Emma-Jane would take some getting used to again—had been absent, too busy helping at the café, or so her sisters said.
“I hate to admit this, but she’s so much nicer now,” Katie confided as she helped him set up a few chairs to supplement the long log that often provided seating at these kinds of events.
“She always seemed too busy to really listen. I often got the impression that she was thinking about the next thing, or how she could improve my life. Which isn’t exactly what you want from your sister, is it?
Not that I should be talking like this. She’d probably want to smack me if she knew I was talking like this to you. ”
His lips curved. “Probably.”
“Except”—her forehead furrowed—“maybe not. You haven’t yet had a chance to talk to her, have you?”
Incorrect. He’d had plenty of chances. Just hadn’t taken any of them.
“Still, you’ll get the chance to talk tonight, I’m sure.”
As was he. He sensed if he let this drag out any longer, the harder it would be.
Ellie said something similar, and Liv did too. Thank goodness for Liam and his noninterfering ways.
Jordan glanced across as Liam helped him stack some more firewood. “I gotta admit I’m a little surprised to think that Liv’s Mr. Darcy would celebrate his engagement at a bonfire here. I thought you were more the fancy ball kind of guy.”
“Clearly you don’t know me very well if that’s what you think.” Liam grinned. “I’ve loved coming here and seeing how real you all are. No pretension, no fancy airs and graces. It’s quite refreshing.”
He’d nodded, as again the words stabbed him. On the contrary, there was plenty of pretension. Or at least pretending. He was chief among the pretenders.
“I’ve heard on the grapevine that you and Emma-Jane are a thing,” Liam continued.
“We’re not a thing. We’re only friends.”
“That seems contrary to what everybody else believes, but if you say so.”
Did “everybody” include EJ? What did she think?
“Are you okay, Jordan?”
He shrugged. “It’s funny hearing people refer to her as Emma-Jane. She’s been EJ since we were in third class at school.”
“So I gathered from what some of the others said. But I understand from what Liv has said that she felt God speak to her about it. So it looks like He’s working in her in various ways.”
Wow. Okay. That made things even more intriguing.
And suddenly he couldn’t wait for tonight.
What to wear on the night of her sister’s engagement party?
If this had been anywhere else, anytime else, she’d be tempted to dress up to the nines.
But because it was at Highbury Farm, with only family and a few of Liv’s close friends and church family, there was nobody to impress.
Apart from Jordan. And she was beyond trying to impress him. Apart from trying to be real.
Her lips twisted. It seemed an oxymoron, because didn’t “trying” to be real indicate a lack of authenticity?
Except she knew that for so long she’d lived in a space of pretence, so it really was hard work to be honest. And she knew she had to be honest tonight.
Honest about everything. Including her feelings.
A little after four, they collected the baked goods and the barbecue meat and salads and drove to Highbury Farm.
Liv and Liam were bringing the drinks, and her sisters and parents were setting things up.
She’d been happy that cleaning up at the café gave an excuse to not set up, which meant she could put off the inevitable conversation with Jordan for a few hours.
But only for a few hours. Because today was crunch time.
D-Day. The time to be honest, once and for all.
A burst of hysteria trickled up and out, escaping in a giggle. How ridiculous to think that things were so strained between two best friends. It didn’t say much for their friendship if they couldn’t be real right now.
Her family parked in the paddock behind the shed, and she straightened her shoulders as she exited the vehicle.
It’d be easy to collect all the bits after the party if they parked here.
She then collected the cooler containing the meat and trudged to where the barbecue had been set up between the shed and the bonfire.
“I’ve got the meat,” she announced, placing the cooler down on the ground with a thud.
“Excellent,” Meg said. “Did you need a hand with anything else?”
She nodded. “There are a few more platters and things in the car.”
“Jordan can help you, can’t you, dear?”
Jordan’s gaze flicked to her, and then he nodded. “Sure.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled. While it was nice to have people wanting to play matchmaker, it was also embarrassing to be on show like this. People watching. This awkwardness still between them.
She silently strode to the car and handed him a platter, accidentally grazing his fingers. He jerked and nearly dropped the tray. “Careful.”
“Sorry.” He hurried away.
Weird. But maybe he’d felt that spark of electricity too. She could only hope.
The next hour passed in meat cooking, people laughing, eating, drinking, toasting marshmallows, congratulating Liv and Liam.
She joined in as best she could, cheering, clapping, the cold temperatures meaning she’d needed to wear her alpaca-wool gloves.
She wiped a hand down her jeans and tugged her scarf around her neck.
Smiled at the thought of what others from a month ago would say if they saw her now.
Not a brand name in sight. Unless you counted an old Rivers black puffer jacket, and that hardly counted.
She glanced across where the bonfire was lit, catching Jordan’s gaze. Holding it. Like they used to do as kids, to see who could break first and look away.
Except, this time as she stared at him, she really studied him.
Could see the maturity in the angles of his face, the appealing scruff lining his cheeks, remembered the sweetness of his expression when he talked with old or young church members, giving them the wholehearted attention and interest she rarely had.
The man was the male equivalent of Liv. He was good.
Good-hearted, good-natured, and good-looking.
Oh, she had to talk to him. Had to let him know she was sorry and that she cared.
That she wanted her best friend back. But as more than a friend. She wanted him to know she loved him.