Chapter Seven #3
Jordan maneuvered the helm through the open waters.
“What were you mumbling up there? You looked very intent.”
Lifting a strand of wind-driven hair from her face, she laughed. “I was talking to God, reminding Him that He said His right
hand would guide me. I felt I needed it up there.”
Some of the amusement left his eyes. “Do you always talk to God?”
“Sure, that’s what’s known as prayer.” She smiled absently, enjoying the sensation of slicing through the water. It freed
her spirit and lifted her soul.
“You really believe in this Jesus stuff, don’t you?” His expression was thoughtful as he met her gaze.
“With all my heart.” Her look, more than her words, stated the depth of her faith. “Is it so difficult for you to believe
Jesus is God’s Son?”
Jordan was quiet, as if turning the question over in his mind. Skye could see he was uncomfortable. “From the evidence that
exists, Christ lived on earth. Whether He was who He said He was is another matter.”
“Not if you examine the facts.” Skye didn’t want to be pushy. She had learned long ago that Christ was a gentleman who didn’t
barge into someone’s life. He came only when invited.
“I guess what I don’t understand is that you all seem to think God is so good, but look at all the evil and bad things that
happen.”
“That is difficult, isn’t it? I think one of the hardest things for me to accept as a Christian has been the belief that everything that happens to me is for my good.”
Jordan gave a small unpleasant laugh. “Don’t try to tell me that injuring Billy was doing the poor kid a favor.”
“No, but you’re missing an important point. God didn’t cause Billy’s accident. He did allow it to happen, but ultimately it
will be for Billy’s good. A Christian must see that in every situation.”
“Good grief,” he responded mockingly. “You really are a Pollyanna. Wasn’t that her game? The glad game? Finding something
good in every situation?”
Averting her face, Skye could feel a lump forming in her throat. “I guess it does sound childish to you, Jordan, but I’ve
put absolute trust in my God, and I believe that whatever happens to me or those I love is for the best.”
Jordan sighed, his look pensive. “Then I think we should agree to disagree.”
A brooding unhappiness settled over Skye. How could their relationship continue if Jordan differed so strongly with her religious
views? With an upward sweep of her lashes, Skye glanced at him. His dark gray eyes were masked and troubled. Skye yearned
to reach out and touch him, to answer the doubts that plagued him. The need crescendoed until she thought she would weep with
the agony of it. She wanted to trust God, longed for that intense faith that would lift her above her own doubts. Instead
she sat beside him weary and fearful that she hadn’t explained herself well. Unexpectedly the sun broke through the heavy
clouds, offering promise. Skye’s spirits soared; she needed a promise, something to hold on to until Jordan recognized the
truth. Smiling, Skye turned her face heavenward in silent communication. She was ready to trust.
“Hey, how about a sandwich?” she asked, feeling the need to lighten the mood. “I’m starved.”
Jordan’s gaze swept slowly over her face. “All right, how about a ham on rye with mustard, mayo, and pickles?”
“Yes, sir,” she responded with a twinkle in her eye. “One peanut butter and jelly coming up.”
The sound of his amusement followed her as she went below.
The mood became more serious as their discussion continued on other subjects. Although their opinions varied, and they were
just as prone to argue over something as agree, their differences were not so far removed. Except for one—God and a personal
relationship with Him.
Jordan’s knowledge of music surprised Skye, and she noted how he cleverly steered the conversation to her singing.
“You have a marvelous talent,” he reminded her. “I’d like for you to reconsider my offer and let Dan Murphy listen to you.”
Skye laughed and dismissed his offer with a shrug.
“You can be persistent, can’t you? Singing for money would take all the fun out of it for me. Besides, I already am a professional.”
His eyes widened curiously.
“Teacher,” Skye added.
“Do you enjoy teaching that much?”
Dragging her fingertips along the surface of the water, Skye straightened. “There are days I wonder, but then I’ve always
loved children, and teaching is what I do best.”
“You actually enjoy children?” He made it sound like a character defect.
“I’m a teacher, I’d better,” she told him adamantly. “I think the younger the better. It’s difficult for me to watch Janey
grow up. I see her developing into a young woman and it tears at my heart. I don’t want her to become independent and self-reliant.
In the beginning it was almost as if Janey were my own child. She’s named after me, you know.” Skye laughed at his expression.
“Poor kid, getting stuck with an ordinary name like Jane.”
His eyes held hers with mocking reproof. “There’s nothing plain about you. But if you’re so keen on children, why don’t you have one?”
“I will, if I marry.”
“In case you haven’t heard, a girl doesn’t need to be married to have a baby,” he countered quickly, some of the teasing gone
from his voice.
“This girl does.”
“I see. It’s like choking down your vegetables before being allowed to sample the delights of dessert.”
Her eyes fell, avoiding his. “If that’s the way you want to look at marriage, then I guess so. Do you find marriage so objectionable?”
His facial muscles softened, and the smile he gave her was warm and gentle. “No. As a matter of fact, I agree with you. I
wanted to get married once, but the lady was more interested in a career than in a family—or in committing herself to one
man, for that matter.”
The woman had been mad, Skye decided, to reject Jordan’s love. “Do you still love her?” The question popped out before she
had a chance to censor it. Just thinking Jordan loved another brought a sharp pain to her midsection.
“No. Whatever I felt for her died long ago.”
Skye risked a glance at Jordan and relaxed.
“Do you still love him?” Jordan asked unexpectedly.
“Who?”
“The one you’ve been eating your heart out over.”
Confused and unsure of how to respond, Skye looked away. “Yes, I guess I do.”
Jordan’s eyes became grim and cold, and Skye realized she couldn’t leave it there. “He was killed in a car accident eight
years ago.” Her voice was tight yet soft, indicating the emotion the simple words had cost her.
Jordan’s expression softened, followed by surfacing compassion. “I’m sorry.”
Her smile was weak. “So am I.”
An hour later they docked the sloop at the marina.
“What about tomorrow?” Jordan questioned as they strolled toward her apartment.
“There’s church in the morning,” she announced casually. “I’m singing with the choir. Would you like to come?”
“Yes, I would,” he stated softly.
His response surprised her in more ways than one. She’d expected him to complain because of their limited time together. “Wonderful,”
she murmured. Willingly Skye turned into Jordan’s arms the minute her apartment door was closed.
“Take this with you tonight,” he mumbled huskily as he possessed her mouth. Her tender lips felt swollen under the force of
his kiss, but it didn’t seem to matter. She understood his hunger.