Chapter Six #2
“It’s my niece’s birthday. I was going to have dinner with my family. Janey’s nine today.”
“Ahh . . . Jane, that’s where you got the name.”
“My given name is Jane, too.” She sat directly opposite him, pausing to buckle her shoe. “Jordan, listen. I don’t remember
how the whole thing started, letting you believe the singer was someone else. I’ve felt terrible all week.”
“Let’s forget it,” he said tightly.
“I don’t want to forget it, and I doubt that I’ll be able to until I explain myself. I didn’t mean to mislead you. I’m not
even sure why I did. Maybe it was because I didn’t want to talk about myself that first night. Or perhaps I wanted you to
like me for myself, not for any talent I may possess. Can you understand that?”
His probing eyes swept over her. “Yes, I can.”
“I don’t want you to accept my apology. I want you to forgive me. There’s a difference. I need your forgiveness, Jordan.”
He stood and came to her side. Gently he brought her upright, easing her against his body. Kissing her hair, his hand gently
stroked her arm. “I forgive you,” he whispered huskily.
Skye’s arms slid effortlessly around him, her mouth turning instinctively toward his. As his lips fit over hers a searing
contentment stole over her. It felt so right to be in his arms. He shuddered against her, and Skye nestled her head upon his
broad shoulder.
“Have dinner with me?” he mumbled into her hair.
“I want to,” she admitted huskily, “but I can’t. My family is waiting for me.”
Raising her face, he kissed her again with an infinite tenderness, arching her toward him.
“You could come with me,” she whispered. “Brad and Peggy won’t mind.” Her lovely mouth curved into an appealing smile. “Besides,
I’m going to need help with the pup.”
Jordan chuckled softly. “Scheming woman, aren’t you?”
Her car had no sooner pulled up alongside the curb than Janey came rushing from the house and down the front steps. The screen
door slammed behind her, only to be opened again a few seconds later.
“It’s about time you got here,” Brad scolded affectionately. Then he noticed Jordan, who came around the other side of the
car. “So this is the reason you’re late,” he teased her in a brotherly manner.
“Don’t embarrass me,” she joked, but her eyes were serious.
“Would I do a thing like that?” he asked laughingly.
The two men shook hands after an informal introduction and walked toward the house talking companionably. Skye and Peggy rescued
the pup from the backseat of her car while Janey squealed with delight over her birthday gift.
While the men sat in the living room talking, Skye helped Peggy finish the salad and add an extra place at the table.
“I hope you don’t mind my showing up with Jordan unexpectedly like this,” Skye said as she glanced into the living room and
saw how well Jordan got along with her brother.
Peggy’s smile was full of warmth. “Of course not,” she denied instantly. “I was dying to meet him anyway.”
“Is Jordan your boyfriend, Aunt Skye?” Janey quizzed as she lopped a fingerful of frosting from the cake.
“Hey, you!” Peggy cried. “Keep your greedy finger off the cake.”
“Is he?” She repeated her question.
Skye wasn’t sure how to answer. A contentment flowed through her, and unconsciously she found herself studying Jordan from
the kitchen. Lean and powerful, he sat with his long legs stretched before him, exuding an aura of strength.
“Auntie Skye?” Janey grabbed Skye’s hand as if to pull her attention back to herself.
“I’m sorry, cupcake.” Skye broke her concentration. “Yes, I guess you could say he’s my boyfriend.” But she didn’t want her
niece to pursue the subject further. “How do you like the puppy?”
“He’s wonderful . . . I think I’ll name him Sampson. What do you think?”
“It’s a great idea,” Skye said, hugging her.
The meal was an enjoyable sharing time. Everyone participated in the laughter and teasing.
“I’m stuffed.” Brad leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach.
“You better have room for dessert,” Janey warned, not wanting to delay opening her gifts.
“I think I’ve managed to save a little room for cake. How about you, Jordan?”
“I’ve always got room for birthday cake.” He purposely winked at Janey, who dissolved into delighted giggles.
Skye rose after Peggy, conscious of Jordan’s warm gaze following her. “I’ll help Peggy with the cake,” she said, as if needing
an excuse to leave.
They returned a few minutes later carrying in the cake with nine lighted candles and singing the traditional birthday song.
“Make your wish, princess,” Brad prompted.
Janey closed her eyes tightly, then announced excitedly, “I wished for a baby brother.”
Standing behind his wife, Brad laughed. “I don’t know.” His arms slid contentedly around Peggy’s still-flat stomach. “I wouldn’t object to another girl. It’s not many men who can claim to live in a house full of beautiful women.” Playfully he nuzzled Peggy’s neck, making growling noises.
The gifts were opened, including the necklace Skye had bought with Jordan the first night they’d gone to dinner. Janey also
got a new game and a pair of pajamas.
The adults moved into the living room, and when Skye brought Jordan his coffee, his arm circled her waist, bringing her down
to sit on the arm of his chair. His grip held her there, his eyes smiling into hers.
“Where’s Brad?” she asked, returning his warm gaze with one of her own.
“He’s gone to phone for a taxi. My flight is leaving soon.”
Skye’s heart floundered at his casual announcement. “Already?” she asked hesitantly, and swallowed down her disappointment.
She wanted to look away, afraid he would read her regret, but his gaze held hers.
“Come to the airport with me?” he asked.
“Okay,” she returned lightly, although her smile wavered dangerously. “I . . . I can drive us.”
A short time later they said their good-byes on the porch. Jordan and Brad grasped hands with the familiarity of good friends.
Skye hugged both Peggy and Janey. “I hope you had a very special birthday, cupcake.”
“Oh, Auntie Skye, I really did,” Janey assured her. “And I like Jordan a lot.”
“I’d be more than willing to drive you to the airport,” Brad offered, but the look he exchanged with Jordan showed he understood
his wish to be alone with Skye.
Within a few minutes they were on their way. Brad, Peggy, and Janey stood on the porch waving; Skye focused her attention
on the fading figures as long as possible.
Jordan was strangely quiet, as if there was something on his mind. Skye more than carried the conversation, babbling inanities that were totally irrelevant to anything.
The reality of his leaving hit forcefully when they approached the airport. Skye could no longer deny the tears burning for
release. This was stupid; why was she getting so emotional? It wasn’t like Jordan was heading off to war. A lone tear forced
itself free and rolled down her cheek. Fiercely she brushed it away before Jordan could notice.
The security line seemed twenty miles long; Skye chatted continuously.
Stopping her abruptly, Jordan gently touched her wet cheek. “Why are you crying?” he asked.
“I am?” she questioned. “Oh, I always cry when I’m happy.” She’d promised God and herself she wouldn’t lie again, but her
resolve crumbled under the first attack of pride. “I’ve never been so happy,” she said in a kind of desperation. “Peggy’s
pregnant, Janey’s birthday . . . and look at you, Oscar the Grouch, your arm is healing and . . .” A bubble of laughter quickly
became a sob.
The line was crowded with people waiting to have their property scanned. Jordan stepped out and maneuvered Skye to a far corner
offering them as much privacy as possible.
“I’ve listened to your Pollyanna chatter all the way here. Now I’ll ask you again—why are you crying?” His hand tightly gripped
her arm, the line of his jaw tight and controlled.
Everything suddenly went very still; the wall he backed her against felt hard and unyielding. Skye held her breath, concentrating
on the top of his shoe. She didn’t know what had gotten into her. She was normally a very composed woman.
“Skye,” he groaned impatiently, and his finger lifted her chin to read her watery blue eyes.
“Please tell me why you’re crying,” his low voice coaxed as he gathered her into his arms. Her softness molded against him, welcoming the comfort of his embrace.
His hand rubbed her back in a soothing circular motion.
Held protectively, Skye accepted the solid strength and buried her face in his shirt.
“I’m sorry,” she attempted in apology. “I’m being ridiculous.” She could feel the gentle pressure of his lips kiss her hair.
“No, you’re not.” His own voice sounded strained and faintly raw.
“Oh, Jordan, I don’t honestly know why I’m crying. I can’t believe how stupid I’m being.”
“I have to go, otherwise I’ll miss my flight,” he said impatiently. But he didn’t relax his hold on her. When he did lift
his head, an expanding frown darkened his expression.
Skye stared back wordlessly, but when she tried to pull away he caught her shoulder, fixing his gaze upon hers. With a fierce
kind of gentleness, he cupped her face, his mouth seeking hers.
“I’ve got to go.” The emotion in his voice was so ragged, it startled Skye.
A frail smile formed. “I know.” Using the back of her hand, she wiped the remaining tears aside. She studied him, committing
to memory every detail of his rugged face.
“I didn’t mean to blubber all over your shirt.” She wiped his chest, as if to erase the wet stains her tears had made.
His eyes regarded her with a languorous warmth. Glancing over his shoulder, he noted the long security line.
“There are things I want to tell you,” he admitted with forced patience. “And now all I can think about is how long it’s going
to be before I can kiss you again.” Quickly he checked the progress of the receding line and jerked his attention back to
her. “If I fly back next weekend, will you be here?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded choked and small. Then, gaining verbal strength, she repeated, “Yes, of course I’ll be here.”
They began to ease their way toward the TSA agent.
“I have to go,” Jordan said, gazing deep into her eyes.
“I know.” Fresh tears misted over her eyes, and her mouth trembled in an effort to smile.
“I’ll phone you,” he promised, backing away from her.
“Okay, good-bye, Jordan,” she finally managed to say, her voice a tortured whisper. She watched him disappear into the long
Jetway that ushered him inside the plane.
She remained looking onto the brightly lit runway for several minutes after his plane had made its ascension into the night.
Skye knew Brad and Peggy had probably been waiting to hear from her, but she didn’t feel like talking to them tonight. She
had too many feelings to deal with. What had caused her to act as she had? She couldn’t remember doing anything so stupid
in her life. Anyone would have thought Jordan was going off to war instead of returning home. It was amazing he was interested
in her at all. She had bungled this relationship from the beginning. She had teased him, promised and misled him, lied to
him, ranted and raved at him, and now acted like a complete idiot.
A couple of hours later she sat on her bed reading from her Bible, sorting through her feelings, and discussing this relationship
in prayer when the phone rang.
Jordan. It had to be him; no one else would phone this late.
“Hello.” She didn’t attempt to disguise the eagerness in her voice.
“You’re home!” came the obvious observation. “Where have you been all night? I’ve tried phoning several times.”
“Hello, Sally.” She tried to hide her disappointment, but the unnatural dip in her voice revealed her letdown. “I was at my
niece’s birthday dinner.” She didn’t add that Jordan had gone with her.
“I should have remembered that,” Sally chastised herself. “Were you expecting a call from someone else? You sound disappointed.”
“No, not really,” Skye said. “What’s up?” Sally wouldn’t phone unless it was something important, not this late at any rate.
“I’ve got some marvelous news. I knew you’d want to know right away. You don’t mind my calling this late, do you?”
Leave it to Sally to keep her dangling with anticipation. “You know I don’t. Now, what’s so all-fired important?”
“Dr. Warren was in this afternoon and he feels Billy has a slim chance of walking again.”
“What? Are you kidding?” Skye gasped in disbelief. It wasn’t a serious question. Sally wouldn’t jest about Billy’s future.
The question was a natural outpouring of her own incredulity.
“A colleague of Dr. Warren’s from back east—I think his name is Snell—has been doing some experimental surgery in cases like
Billy’s,” she continued, listing the specific areas of the spine now operable under the new technique, but the technical terms
flew over Skye’s head.
“Yes . . . yes, but what does all this mean?” Skye interrupted.
Sally laughed. “I was getting to that. What all this boils down to is the fact that there’s a possibility this new technique
will work in Billy’s case. Dr. Snell is flying here for some medical conference, and he’s agreed to examine Billy and determine
the feasibility of success. If—and it’s a big if—Billy’s found to be a low-risk candidate, he’ll undergo the surgery.”
“Oh, Sally, I’ve prayed for something like this.”
“You’re not crying, are you?” Sally accused, her own elated voice wobbling with suppressed tears.
“No, silly, these aren’t tears, this is liquid joy.”