Heartsong

by Debbie Macomber

  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 harem 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’d 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, Simon Legree, 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 som
e 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 mumbo jumbo 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.”

  Chapter Seven

  Monday and Tuesday passed in a dull shade of expectancy. Even though her days and nights were full, Skye found several things she wanted to share with Jordan. Little things. She’d finally broken a seven-minute mile, a goal she’d set for herself a year before. And of course she wanted to tell him about Billy. And there was one thing he must know that was sure to displease him.

  Wednesday afternoon Skye unlocked her apartment door, slipped off her shoes, and entered her bedroom to change clothes, a pattern so set it was almost like instinct. She flipped the switch to her radio, a sound to fill the silence. Funny, she’d never thought of music like that before. Music had been her panacea, filling the void in her life, offering challenge and purpose. Suddenly it had become a sound to fill the silence.

  Later she lay with her head resting against the back of the sofa. Had she fallen in love with Jordan? Was all this longing for the sound of his voice and the coming weekend love? She cupped her tea mug with her long, slender fingers and sipped the tea absently. Her feelings for Glen had been so different from this. With Glen she’d felt cherished and protected. But Jordan drew from her something totally different. Something almost indefinable; a strong, fierce emotion. She shook her head to dispel her thoughts, unwilling to continue in this senseless vein.

  Intent on reading her book, she tucked her bare feet beneath her and placed her mug down just as the phone rang.

  “Hello,” she said cheerfully.

  “Hello, Skye.”

  “Jordan,” she breathed, and her heart skipped a beat. “I’m so glad you called. I was beginning to think my watery charades had convinced you I was a candidate for the loony bin.”

  His laughter was full and rich. “The thought crossed my mind the first time you took off your shoe.”

  Skye tightened her grip on the receiver, as if it would make what she had to say easier. “I have some bad news and some good news; which do you want first?”

  He didn’t even pause. “I learned a long time ago to deal with any unpleasantness first.”

  “When I got home last week,” she began hesitantly, “I looked on my calendar and I noticed that … that I’ve already got a date for this Saturday night. I … promised Sally I’d meet a friend of her husband’s.”

  Jordan was silent for so long, Skye wondered if he was still on the line. “Jordan?” Her voice wobbled.

  “Break it,” he demanded.

  “I can’t. I want to, but Sally has gone to a lot of trouble, and I did promise …,” she finished lamely.

  Jordan’s voice was sharp with anger. “I’ve already made my flight reservations, and frankly I really don’t care about hurting your friend’s feelings.”

  “It’s not like a real date. I haven’t even met this guy. Sally’s been trying to fix this up for weeks. I can’t let her down now.”

  The silence that followed felt oppressive.

  “Just what do you expect me to do? Jump for joy?”

  “No.” The word came out squeaky and high-pitched. “I … I was hoping we could spend Saturday together, and as much of Sunday as your schedule will allow.”

  “You can’t honestly expect me to come?” he asked forcefully.

  “If you don’t, I think I’ll go crazy.” She hadn’t meant to reveal so much of her feelings, to admit quite that much.

  He sighed heavily, and when he spoke, the irritation had left. “I think I would, too,” he admitted huskily.

  The stiffness left her shoulders. “We’ll have a wonderful day,” she breathed softly.

  “Unfortunately it was the night I was looking forward to.”

  “Then I’ll have to thank my guardian angel for looking after me,” she said lightheartedly.

  She could hear pages being flipped, as if he were consulting an appointment calendar. “What about Friday night?”

  Skye had already made plans with the church youth group. “I … I kind of have something going that night,” she said, more than a little apprehensive. “What time could you be here?”

  “Around seven.”

  She sighed softly. “That’ll work great. Eat a light dinner, because we’re having hot fudge sundaes afterward.”

  “After what?”

  “You’ll see,” she said, laughing lightly. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

  A male voice interrupted from the background. It sounded vaguely like Bill Malloy, the man Skye had met the day her car broke down.

  “I’ve got to go,” he groaned impatiently.

  “Jordan, I have some wonderful news about Billy. I’ll tell you Friday. Good-bye.”

  “Friday at seven,” he said in a husky voice that sounded very much like a promise.

  Skye had no sooner hung up the phone when it rang again. It was Janey. “Auntie Skye,” she burst out excitedly. “Can you come over right away? I’ve got something to show you.”

  Skye glanced quickly at her watch; there was plenty of time before church. “All right, cupcake.”

  Brad and Peggy were doing yard work when she drove up. Janey saw her from down the street and came racing up the sidewalk.

  “Come see,” she yelled, running with all her strength.

  Brad rose from the flower bed he was weeding to meet her. “Yes, come see,” he encouraged with sparkling eyes.

  Janey grabbed her hand, breathless from the run. “It arrived this morning. I was so surprised.”

  “Hey, you guys.” Skye laughed, her brow furrowed. “What gives?”

  Tugging fiercely at Skye’s hand, Janey led the way around the back of the house. When Brad and Peggy followed, Skye glanced skeptically over her shoulder, thoroughly confused.

  Once they rounded the corner, her gaze focused on a large brown doghouse. Built to resemble a miniature home, it contained white shutters beside two windows. SAMPSON was painted in book hand above the door. Squatting down, Skye could see that plush carpeting covered the floor except for a small space of linoleum in the kitchen area that was used for the dog’s water and food dishes.

  Sampson slumbered peacefully inside his new quarters. Skye petted the puppy with long, flowing strokes.

  “Brad, it’s a darling house. Where did you ever find it?” she asked over her shoulder.

  “I didn’t!”

  Her eyes widened and swept his controlled expression, but Brad only smiled back. Janey was no help, either. Obviously primed for silence, she pinched her lips closed with her fingers.

  “Peggy?” Skye turned her questioning eyes to her sister-i
n-law.

  “Jordan had it delivered this morning,” Peggy said at last, recognizing Skye’s frustration.

  “Jordan did?” A warm bubble of happiness surfaced.

  “Take some friendly advice,” Brad said pensively. “Hold on to Jordan Kiley. He’s a keeper.”

  Her smile was tremulous, but her eyes sparkled with a light of contentment and promise. “I think I will,” she said.

  “Aren’t you going to tell Aunt Skye the best news of all?” Janey demanded from inside the doghouse. Sampson was cradled on her lap and looking disgruntled because his nap and his home had been invaded.

  “What news?” Skye’s attention swiveled back to her brother. “You got a job!” She really didn’t need to guess further; nothing else could have removed the lines of doubt and worry that had furrowed his expression for weeks. He even seemed to stand taller, as if some heavy load had been lifted from him.

  “I start Monday morning.” A grin lit up his boyish face.

  “And more money than we dared dream,” Peggy interjected enthusiastically.

  “The Lord works in mysterious ways. Funny, I never expected to get that job, let alone be asked to be the foreman.” Brad opened the back door leading to the kitchen. “Come inside and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  The three adults entered the house, leaving Janey contentedly behind, sitting in the doghouse.

  The bus was loaded with thirty-five laughing, teasing junior high students. The festive mood intensified as Skye and Jordan climbed aboard with the bus driver.

  “All right, kids.” Skye stood in the front of the bus, calling them to attention. “Hold it down a minute while I go over the rules and introduce you to my friend. This is Mr. Kiley, and he’ll be accompanying us tonight.”

  A chorus of hoots and welcomes came from the lively group.

  Jordan acknowledged their acceptance with a casual wave of his hand.

  “I see you had to twist his arm to come,” one of the boys from the back of the bus shouted, referring to Jordan’s broken arm.

  Other jeers followed laughter. “Robert, be careful, I may have to twist your mouth as well,” Skye said, returning the banter easily.