A Kingsbury Collection

Home > Nonfiction > A Kingsbury Collection > Page 92
A Kingsbury Collection Page 92

by Karen Kingsbury


  Her eyes clouded over, and she turned her eyes toward the Jesus statue. Again there was quiet between them.

  “What’re you thinking about?” Jordan tucked the loose strands of her hair behind her ears. “You looked a million miles away for a minute there.”

  She looked back at him, and he wondered if she was as distracted by his nearness as he was by hers. It was all he could do to keep from taking her in his arms and …

  If only there weren’t an ocean of differences between us—

  “It’s cold.”

  At her words, Jordan nodded and closed the remaining gap between them, moving so close to her that his heightened senses took in every place where their bodies touched. The length of their arms, their legs … “Better?”

  Faith hesitated, and Jordan knew she had to be waging an inner battle as well. But he felt her relax and snuggle close to him.

  “Better.” She positioned herself so she could look into his eyes again. “Remember what you said? About this case meaning a lot to you?”

  He nodded, barely able to breathe for her nearness.

  “It means a lot to me, too.” The reality of her statement cut like a dagger, though it did nothing to stop the way he wanted her, the way he was sure he’d never loved anyone like he loved the woman at his side, the connection they shared. She was the only one he had ever been able to share his heart with.

  “You have to be true to yourself, Faith.”

  Their eyes locked, their faces no more than an inch apart, and Jordan knew there was no turning back. Faith brought her cheek up alongside his and he nuzzled her face. “I will be … It’s something I promised my father.”

  He eased his arm around her and pulled her against his chest. Finally, when he thought he’d die from anticipation, he whispered into her ear, “I still love you, Faith.”

  Sitting this close in the shadows of the park where they’d spent so many hours as kids … it was more than either of them could bear. The statue, the legal fight … none of it mattered with her so close he could feel her breath, smell her shampoo.

  She cupped his face with both hands this time, her eyes full of questions. “Jordan, I … ”

  “Shh. Don’t say anything.” He could feel the early sting of tears. “We’re different now, we look at life from opposite sides of the ocean. I just … I wanted you to know how I feel.”

  Her hands quivered against his face and he caught them in his own, protecting her from the freezing night.

  Faith looked deeply into his eyes. “But you agreed with me. A part of you—who you used to be—still lives inside you. Isn’t that right?”

  Jordan let go of one of her hands, tracing her eyebrows with his thumbs. “If things had been different … who knows where we might be now.” He warned himself not to do something he’d regret, but without paying heed he brought his lips closer to hers. This time he kept eye contact as he whispered the feelings that were flooding his heart. “I always loved you, Faith. What I felt for you was … I don’t know, pure. Right. I never loved anyone the way I loved you. The way I still love you.”

  Certain they’d found a ride upstream in the river of time, he touched his lips to hers and kissed her until they were both breathless. When he pulled back, a breeze blew across them and he was struck by the insanity of their actions. What was he doing? Where could this possibly go?

  A thought quickly took shape. Whatever their differences, this wasn’t fair to either of them.

  He searched her face, taking in the honesty and integrity and desire he saw there. The love. Tears pricked at his eyes again. “You’re so beautiful, Faith. So good and right. But what we have between us is borrowed from yesterday.” Before he could stop himself, he kissed her again, then drew back. “It isn’t real.”

  Faith’s eyes clouded. She lay her hand over his heart, and he knew she must feel the way he was trembling. “It is real. As real as the boy you used to be.” She framed his face with her fingers again and kissed him with a passion that took him by surprise and was almost his undoing.

  “Faith,” he whispered when their lips came apart for a brief moment. “What you do to me … ”

  Again and again she moved her lips over his until he thought he might scream from the feelings welling up inside him. When they came up for air, she searched his eyes for a long moment, her voice barely a whisper. “You can’t have your mother and Heidi back. But I’m still here, Jordan. That’s proof that God loves you, isn’t it?”

  A single tear spilled onto his cheek, and he shook his head. “No. Tomorrow we’ll be enemies again. I’ll do whatever I can to see your Jesus statue walled up forever and you’ll do everything in your power to stop me. Don’t you understand, Faith? The God you love, the God you serve … He’s my enemy. I spend all my time trying to have Him eliminated from society.”

  She drew back from him, open-mouthed as though she’d been slapped. And in that instant a knife twisted in Jordan’s heart—and he knew the moment they’d borrowed from time was gone.

  Forever.

  At Jordan’s words, Faith felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped down her back. What am I doing here, God?

  She was still reeling from their kisses, convinced of the love she still had for him, but how could she stay when he talked about God being his enemy?

  What should I do?

  Go, daughter … I will be with Jordan.

  Faith wrapped her arms tightly around herself and let her gaze fall to her lap. Though she ached for Jordan, she knew now she had no right falling for him. Not when he thought of God as his enemy. Give me the words, God … restore him to You … please, Father.

  Words began filling her heart, and she looked at Jordan through wet, blurry eyes and began to speak. “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future—’ ”

  The light in his eyes disappeared as though his heart had closed up shop. He began to shake his head. But still the words came and Faith could do nothing but speak them clearly, with all the love she felt in her heart. “ ‘Nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our—’ ”

  “Stop it!” He put his hands on her shoulders and shook her. Not hard enough to hurt her, but hard enough to silence her. Anger flashed in his eyes, and it tore at Faiths heart like nothing she’d ever felt before. “I don’t want to hear that, Faith. I’m serious. God is my enemy and nothing you can say will ever change that.”

  Her tears came harder and she pulled loose from his grip. “I’m not the one who doesn’t get it, Jordan. You loved the Lord once, and that’s something He doesn’t forget.” A sob escaped from deep within her, and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand. “No matter what you do … whether you put a wall around the Jesus statue or not … Jesus will still love you.” She stood up and took three steps back. “And so will I.”

  With that she turned and began jogging back to her car, crying harder, not caring that the icy night air was stinging her face as she ran. What had she been doing, kissing Jordan like that? Was she crazy? Even worse, was Jordan right? Did the boy she loved no longer exist? Jordan seemed to have grown into a man determined to remain an enemy of her God. And yet …

  His kiss still burned on her lips, and she was suddenly furious with herself. How could she feel so deeply for him when she knew what he stood for? Her tears came in torrents, both for herself and the way she’d betrayed God. I’m sorry Lord. Help me pull myself together … help me find the pieces of my heart. She ran faster and before she could analyze her actions further she reached her car, climbed in, and drove away.

  She glanced once more toward the bench where she and Jordan had been sitting but it was empty. Lord, help me be strong next time I see him. How can he be so wonderful and warm one minute and so intensely angry and bitter the next? And how could I let myself kiss him? Oh, Lord … I need to keep my focus. Don’t le
t me be distracted by my feelings, please. Father …

  I have loved Jordan with an everlasting love, daughter. Even now I am calling him …

  The words washed over Faith with holy reassurance. She nodded, grateful. Let God work with him; it was too hard a task for her.

  She would continue praying for Jordan’s change of heart, but she knew she needed to pray for her own as well. Especially since the memory of his kiss, his touch, was stronger than she cared to admit. After all, she would see him again in ten hours.

  When they’d face each other as public enemies in the Pennsylvania State Court.

  22

  When Jordan didn’t answer his motel phone all night, T. J. knew he had no choice but to drive to Bethany. The hearing was at ten that morning, and the partners had made it exceedingly clear that they doubted Jordan’s intentions.

  “If he spends more than thirty minutes outside his hotel room I want to know about it. If he’s in love with the girl, anything could happen.” Hawkins had waved his hand in the air and pointed it at T. J. “You understand me, Morris?”

  T. J. had nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Hawkins crashed his hand down on his desk, knocking a stack of papers onto the floor. “The last thing we need is Jordan settling for some partial wall or even no wall at all just so he and the girl can pick up where they left off, wherever that was.” He stared at the others. “With all that’s riding on this case, his association with this woman is flat dangerous.”

  Hawkins’s words echoed in T. J.’s mind as he set out before sunup for Bethany. Whatever the situation, he feared Hawkins was right. Friendship notwithstanding, when the phone in Jordan’s motel room went unanswered until well after midnight, T. J. felt he had no choice but to go.

  He would meet Jordan at court just before the hearing and tell him he’d come for moral support. Then all T. J. could do was hope Jordan wouldn’t dare make an unexpected move with his best friend and coworker watching over his shoulder.

  At eight o’clock that morning the phone rang in Peter T. Hawkins’s office. It was his hot line, the number he gave only to a handful of people, including his friends in influential political circles.

  “Hawkins here.” He sounded more confident than he felt. The blasted statue hearing was in two hours, and Morris had already called to inform him there was trouble. Jordan had been out all night, which only added to Hawkins’s mounting doubts regarding the young attorney.

  “Hello, Mr. Hawkins.”

  He sat straighter in his chair. The voice on the other end was one that would be recognized in many political circles. Had the statue case actually gained this type of attention? Hawkins had presumed the bonus money was something only the politician’s advisors knew about, but apparently not. “Hello, sir. How are you this morning?”

  “Good … and hoping to get better. I understand you have this Jesus statue case under control.”

  Hawkins gulped and struggled to find his voice. “That’s right.”

  “Good, good.” The man at the other end chuckled. Hawkins could only imagine the pressure this man must be under to make a deal like this with HOUR. He held his breath as the man began to speak. “People are watching this case, Mr. Hawkins. You and the crew at HOUR have always been our most powerful allies, but it’s time to raise the bar.” His voice grew less friendly. “We cannot have Jesus statues standing in our public parks. Not while I’m in office.” He hesitated and his voice relaxed some. “You’re aware of the bonus money?”

  A thin layer of perspiration broke out on Hawkins’s forehead, and he wiped it with his fingertips. “Yes. It’s very generous, sir.”

  “There’s more where that came from. Private money, you understand. Nothing illegal.” He chuckled again. “Just make sure the wall goes up. We’ll start with statues and work our way to the churches. Isn’t that right, Mr. Hawkins?”

  Hawkins forced a tight-lipped laugh. “Absolutely, sir. You can count on us.”

  “I always have. One of my advisors will be calling just before noon for an update. Make sure it’s a good one.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The phone call was over, and Hawkins felt several sharp pains in his left shoulder. Since when did political giants get involved in cases like this? The answer was simple: Since special interest groups had gained control of the man’s office.

  Hawkins kneaded his shoulder and the pains eased. It was all too complicated these days, too many people making deals and manipulating court cases behind the scenes.

  The bonus money flashed across the checkbook in his mind. All one million dollars of it. Hawkins eased back into his chair. Maybe the job wasn’t so complicated after all. Besides, the burden lay on Jordan Riley. If the walls fell in Jericho Park it would be Riley’s fault. Certainly Hawkins had done everything in his power to see victory take place. He’d gotten the Evans girl fired and given her something to think about with the call from his friend at CBS. She had to know how much power the firm wielded.

  They’d done as much as they could to eliminate Faith Evans as an obstacle—short of hiring a hit on her. Hawkins chuckled under his breath. Not that he’d ever be involved in something like that. HOUR was a human rights group, after all.

  Besides, whoever was behind the money was interested in the firm long-term. Win this case, and there’d be plenty more “bonus” money down the road … that was the impression Hawkins had gotten.

  He drew in a deep breath. They needed to win this case. Desperately. At the thought, his shoulder began to hurt again. For the first time in his life he found himself wishing the wacky religious freaks were right, that there actually was an almighty God. Because the way public opinion was tilting in Bethany, Pennsylvania, it was beginning to look like HOUR needed more than a little blackmail and string-pulling to pull this case off.

  They needed a miracle.

  The key players were gathered outside the courtroom—Jordan on one side of the hallway; Faith, Joshua, and the mayor of Bethany on the other—when the clerk found them and told them the news. Judge Webster had the flu. The hearing had been postponed for one week. A reporter from ABC, who had arrived an hour earlier, immediately sent a wire preventing what figured to be as many as a hundred journalists from wasting a trip. In addition, a bulletin went out across local television and radio, so that only a few people who failed to hear the news had to be sent home.

  Jordan felt his heart sink as the clerk explained the situation. Another week. He’d have to stay in Bethany, hold press conferences, and attempt to sway public opinion for another week—all the while avoiding the one woman he couldn’t stop thinking about. It was like being sentenced to a torture chamber.

  He shot a discreet look at Faith, admiring the angle of her head, the way her eyes danced with life when she spoke to the older attorney. The compassion and kindness she’d shown as a child were still very much a part of her … but she had more fire now. His eyes traveled the length of her, taking in the way her elegant skirt swished about her ankles and clung to all the right places, the way her blond hair fell from a simple knot halfway down her back. Everything about her called to him, beckoned him in a way he was barely able to withstand.

  Jordan didn’t know why he was surprised. She’d always been beautiful—but back when they were friends and neighbors, he’d taken her beauty for granted. Now … when there was no way to bridge the distance between them, when the memory of her kiss the night before was more pressing on his mind than anything else—including the fate of the Jesus statue—now the very sight of her left him with a sense of longing and urgency he knew he could never act upon.

  He let his gaze linger a moment longer, then frowned. She was keeping to herself, refusing to even glance in his direction. He didn’t blame her. The things he’d told her were as true now as they’d been last night: regardless of the attraction they obviously felt for each other, there wasn’t enough common ground between them to build a sand castle let alone a life together.

  Jordan sighed and reac
hed in his suit pocket for his cell phone. As he moved down the hallway, he dialed Hawkins’s private office number. He leaned against the wall as the line rang twice, but before it could ring a third time he heard footsteps.

  Jordan looked up. “T. J.?” At the sight of his partner, he felt the blood leave his face. What possible reason would T. J. have for showing up at the hearing? He must’ve left New York before sunup. His cheeks grew hot and anger like a mounting storm began to build. He disconnected the phone call and waited for an explanation.

  “Hey, Jordan.” T. J. looked around as he closed the distance between them, breathless from the walk. “Where’s the crowd?”

  Jordan’s mind raced. One of two things had to be happening back at the office. Either the partners had suddenly lost confidence in him and sent T. J. to baby-sit, or there was a serious lack of communication between him and the others. Either option made Jordan’s skin crawl.

  One thing was certain: he had no intention of holding a conversation with T. J. in earshot of Faith and the others. He motioned to his friend and they found a place at the end of the hall, near a boxy windowsill. Both lawyers set their briefcases down as Jordan stared at T. J. and swore under his breath. “Here to take over?”

  T. J.’s eyes were unnaturally wide and his smile looked painted on. “Of course not. Hawkins just thought you could use a little support. This is the big day, right?”

  Jordan didn’t blink. “It was postponed a week. Judge got sick.” He paused, his eyes never leaving T. J’s. “Don’t lie to me, Teej. You didn’t get in your car at four this morning and drive all the way to Bethany to wave at me from the back row. Tell me why you’re here.”

  For the briefest moment it looked like T. J. was going to keep up the charade. He opened his mouth and was about to speak when his smile faded. Then, like a week-old helium balloon, his shoulders sagged and he thrust his hands in his pants pocket, shirting his gaze so that he stared out the window. “You weren’t in your room last night.” His voice was monotone, a statement of resignation more than anything else.

 

‹ Prev