by Judith Yates
Cuddling her, Holly nuzzled the giggling child’s neck. Jordan concentrated on Stephanie. Blond, brown-eyed and honey-skinned, she appeared to be an exact miniature of her mother. Yet, as she wiggled in Holly’s arms, he continued to study her expressions, her voice, her laugh, her movements. Try as he might, Jordan failed to detect the slightest hint of his brother in the child.
Still, he wasn’t convinced.
Mother and daughter discussed tuna casseroles and the dog named Taffy, among other things. Jordan felt as if they’d forgotten he was there, which did not sit well. He wanted answers. With impatience getting the better of him, he leaned over to whisper in Holly’s ear. “Why should I believe you?”
She looked up at him, her nose scrunched in perplexity. This familiar gesture brought back the Holly West of the past, a Holly so different from the independent single mother he’d found here in Golden. Jordan found an odd comfort in the reminder.
Holly slid the child off her lap. “Honey, see Taffy sitting by the back door? She looks so glum. You know, she’s been cooped up at Dr. Gabe’s clinic all afternoon.”
Stephanie set her big brown eyes on the golden retriever. “Poor Taffy.”
“I bet she could use a good run around the house.”
The kid bobbed with excitement. “I’ll do it, Mommy. I’ll take her for a run.”
“Go for it.” Holly waved her off.
“Taffy! Come on, Taffy, come on!”
The dog came to life as Stephanie ran toward her, and yipped playfully when the child started circling the house. Holly chuckled. “That’s one of her favorite things to do. She loves leading Taffy around.”
Which was all very nice, but it couldn’t have interested Jordan less. “I’m waiting for an answer.”
“You haven’t changed. You still can’t take anything at face value, can you?”
“Not this, Holly.” He shook his head. “Not this.”
Yet the challenge on her face made him wonder. Could there be more at play here than the obvious? After all, the very notion that Scott and Holly had a child together without anyone in his family knowing was a stretch. In those days, the circle the Masons and the Wests had moved in was small—too small to hide such a momentous event.
Holly sighed. “This isn’t easy to talk about, Jordan. You can’t imagine how worthless I felt when Scott walked out on the wedding.”
Actually, he could well imagine it. He had never forgotten the moment when her glowing bride’s smile had crumbled into disbelief and pain. He had never forgiven his brother for hurting and humiliating Holly so.
“Because I was absolutely miserable, my parents sent me off on a cross-country trip with my cousin,” Holly continued. “Remember?”
“Yes. The last time I tried to call you, your mother told me you would be gone for the summer. But by summer’s end, your parents had sold the house and moved to Connecticut. It was pretty sudden.”
“They moved because I was pregnant.” She looked down at her hands.
“Holly?”
“Not by Scott.”
“Then who for Pete’s sake?”
A flash of embarrassment colored her face. “A student I met while my cousin and I were traveling. Someone who paid a lot of attention to me at a time when my self-esteem was about zilch. Guess you could call it a rebound affair.”
“I see.”
“Do you?” Holly asked, fidgeting in her chair. But before Jordan could even think of how to answer, she continued, “By the time I discovered I was pregnant, he was long gone.”
Jordan was stunned. This was beyond anything he had imagined about Holly. Could it be true?
“So you, ah, decided to—to—”
“Keep the baby?” she said, finishing for him. “Of course. There was never any question. I wanted her more than anything.”
“I don’t know what to say. No one knew...”
She nodded. “That’s what my parents wanted—they had a tough time with the... situation. And after everything that had happened with Scott and the wedding, who could blame them? We all thought a fresh start was best.”
Jordan studied Holly’s face. Her explanation seemed plausible. Any woman left at the altar the way she had been would be vulnerable to another man’s attention. Yes, it could have happened as she said...except for one thing that didn’t connect “Then why did your father want me to come find you?”
“Ah, my father.” Holly closed her eyes for a moment. “My father has a hard time believing that I’ve built a good life for myself, even after all these years. He’s always been uncomfortable with my being an unwed mother. Maybe that’s why he didn’t say anything to you about Stephanie.”
“Ted did seem to be holding something back.”
“Poor Dad. In the past, my mother did the worrying for him. But now that she’s gone...”
“He’s worrying again?”
“Because he can’t or won’t accept that I’m doing fine on my own,” she said with a shake of her head.
“But he was so anxious about you.”
“It’s difficult to take Steph to see him. He moved into a very small condo in an adults only development down in Hilton Head,” she explained. “And he won’t come here to see us out of sheer stubbornness. But I keep hoping he’ll give in. Then he’d see for himself how well we’re doing.”
Jordan was blown away by it all.
Minutes ago, he would have bet his life Scott was Stephanie’s father. But now Holly’s explanation made more sense than the harsh notion that she’d keep a baby secret from Scott or his family. Despite the bitterness created by his brother’s actions, the two families had been too close for something like that.
“The father never knew?”
“Oh, Jordan, I tried. It was just impossible to get through to him. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, but I did try—I—” Her voice broke, and she quickly bit down on her quivering lip.
“It’s okay, Hol.” Jordan reached across the table for her hand. After hearing the sadness in her voice, feeling the tremble of her hand, any doubts he had all but vanished. He couldn’t help but believe her.
Holly watched him; her brown eyes pensive. A gentle afternoon breeze wafted through her fine golden hair. Jordan recalled the last time she had looked at him like that, dressed in her frothy wedding gown, standing in a room of shocked silence. He blinked away the memory to focus on the woman here with him now.
“Do I look sadder but wiser to you, Jordan?” Holly asked, slipping her hand out of his.
Jordan shook his head. “You look wonderful. Very much your own woman.”
A smile lit her face. “Thank you for that.”
He meant it. Time had refined her face’s youthful roundness with delicate angles; experience had graced her coffee-colored gaze with an intriguing expression. Leaning back in his chair, he took in the lithe line of her body. It was hard to miss how motherhood had softened her girlish shape with supple curves. The spoiled, bothersome kid from next door was history now, as was the weeping abandoned bride. Holly had transformed herself into a self-sufficient woman.
And more power to her, Jordan thought, even if she had chosen to bury herself away in this speck of a town.
“Look, when I get back to Boston tonight, I’ll call Ted and tell him all is well.”
Her eyes widened. “Don’t do that!”
“But Holly, I should←”
“He won’t listen to you. Let me handle it.”
Suddenly, the panting dog ran up to Jordan, rubbing enthusiastically against his leg.
“Taffy!” Holly issued another sharp reprimand and the retriever slunk away. “We’re trying to teach her not to do that.”
“No harm done.” Jordan brushed a patch of reddish brown dog hair from his slacks.
“Now, where’s Stephanie?” she wondered aloud as she got to her feet. She began calling her daughter.
Finally, Stephanie’s small voice came floating across the yard. “I’m in my house, Mommy.”
/> Jordan turned to Holly. “Her house?”
“Tree house.” She grinned. “Come see. This is something you’ll appreciate.”
He followed Holly to the other side of her house and to a big old oak with low, wide-spreading limbs. He scarcely believed what he saw. On the thickest, lowest branches was a tiny playhouse built on a sturdy platform. The pitched roof was actually shingled, the exterior was whitewashed and the door and window shutters were painted Dutch blue. Five steps built on low risers made it an easy climb for pint-size legs.
Holly glanced up at him. “Look familiar?”
“Sure does,” Jordan admitted, as a tree house from the past came to mind. “Looks like a duplicate.”
“Well, it comes as close as memory allowed. Of course, since you’re the one who designed the original, you’d know best.”
“That was a million years ago, Holly.”
He’d been eleven, maybe twelve, when the carpentry bug had bitten him big time. Tired of building bird feeders and step stools, he had set his sights on the big chestnut tree in the Wests’ backyard. He had designed a plan, thrilled the six-year-old Holly with his drawings and then persuaded Ted West to let him build it.
But his vision had proven greater than his rudimentary carpentry skills. After Jordan struggled for weeks to erect the tree house, his father and Ted West had taken over and finished the job. That had pretty much ended his participation. Although he helped with the final painting, his enthusiasm for the project had faded. Now Jordan remembered how childish and incompetent he had felt.
“I loved that tree house so much,” Holly continued, “that I wanted Steph to have one just like it.”
“Hi, Mommy.” Little Stephanie popped her head out the front window. “Are you coming in?”
Holly looked to Jordan. “Would you like to see inside? We can all fit in if we scrunch down low. It’s been done.”
“Yeah, when Dr. Gabe came to our tea party,” Stephanie announced.
“Dr. Gabe?” This was the second time Jordan had heard the name mentioned.
“The friend who helped me build this.”
The little girl giggled. “Mommy, you helped him.”
Holly laughed, too. “Okay, okay. But I was the one with the idea.”
Jordan had forgotten the chimelike quality Holly’s laugh possessed. The easiness of it brought back the carefree exuberance of their childhoods. The sweetness of it filled him with regret for happier days when his brother had been alive and his father healthy.
“Jordan?” Holly touched his shoulder. “Do you want to go in?”
Jordan glanced from mother to daughter and back. That Holly had re-created this special memory was all very touching. But it wasn’t for him. “I think I’ll take a pass, Hol.”
“Sure, Jordan,” Holly answered right away,. “It’s pretty grimy up there anyway, and you’re not dressed for it.” With a glance down at her long, gauzy print skirt, she added, “Neither am L”
Holly’s quick response failed to cover her daughter’s audible sigh of disappointment. Jordan felt a stab of guilt—which he resented. He wasn’t used to being around kids. Maybe he had been insensitive about Stephanie’s invitation. Still, why would the kid care if he came inside or not?
Jordan looked up at the little girl, trying to think of an excuse to appease her. But Stephanie stared right past him. “I’m hungry, Mommy.”
Holly checked her watch. “Oh, gosh, it’s almost six-thirty! You must be starving, honey. Good thing Gracie made dinner for us tonight.”
“Yeah, Gracie’s tuna noodle casserole. Ya-aa-ay!” Stephanie cheered, jumping excitedly inside her little house, making the tree branches bounce.
“Take it easy, Steph,” Holly warned as she turned to Jordan. “It’s her favorite. She’s been after Gracie to make it for weeks.”
“With that kind of enthusiasm, it must be quite the dish.”
“I don’t know about that,” she replied with a shrug. “But if you’d like to, ah, stay....”
Stephanie picked up on this immediately. “Gracie bought ice cream for dessert,” she said, meeting Jordan’s gaze this time. “Peanut butter ripple—from the dairy farm.”
Tuna noodle casserole and peanut butter ripple ice cream? It wasn’t exactly cuisine he had a taste for, and he had planned to be on the road by now. The drive back to Boston was long and tedious. Yet the kid was staring at him with expectant eyes from her perch at the tree house window. For some unfathomable reason, she wanted him to stay.
“It would be good to have a meal before I hit the road,” he said, recognizing a second chance when he saw one. Jordan didn’t want to remain in this little girl’s doghouse, although he wasn’t sure why he felt it mat tered. Somehow, it did.
“Then you’ll be staying?” Holly sounded surprised.
“If it isn’t too much trouble.”
“It’s no trouble at all. But if you have someone waiting for you...”
“Not tonight.”
Stephanie let out a whoop of delight. “Mommy! Can we use the pretty dishes? And candles, too?”
Chuckling, Holly nodded. “My daughter loves having company for dinner,” she said to Jordan. “It can get awfully quiet around here sometimes.”
So that’s why the kid wanted him to stay, Jordan mused silently as he followed Holly into the cottage. Well, the two of them did live a somewhat isolated existence way out here in the boonies. Their home was a good five miles from the center of town, with no neighbors within earshot. Stephanie, too young to go to school, stayed home all day with a senior citizen baby-sitter. No wonder she was hungry for company. And what about Holly? Despite her obvious pride in her reinvented life, was she lonely, too?
“Hey, this peanut butter ripple stuff isn’t bad,” Jordan announced after his first taste of Stephanie’s favorite ice cream.
Holly almost laughed at the amazed look on his face. Of course Jordan would be surprised that a superb ice cream could be produced by the local dairy farm. “Actually, Houghton Farms ice cream is considered just about the best in this part of the state,” she said, feeling compelled to tell him. “People come from all over to buy it.”
“But it’s ’spensive,” Stephanie offered, causing dribbles of melted ice cream to ooze down her chin.
“Not with your mouth full, young lady,” Holly admonished, reaching to wipe her daughter’s face with a napkin.
She noticed Jordan had averted his gaze and was now staring down at his ice cream dish. Well, four-year-olds were often messy when they ate, she thought. But Jordan wouldn’t know that. He was the epitome of the businessman bachelor—urbane, fastidious and clueless.
On second thought, Holly realized she wasn’t being fair. All through dinner, Jordan had been in fine humor. For a man of sophisticated tastes, tuna noodle casserole had to be something of an indignity. But he had eaten his entire serving without complaint, and his refusal of seconds was so gracious it even made Stephanie smile.
That was another thing. Her daughter tended to be reserved around adult males. Except for Gabe Sawyer, so few were present in her day-to-day life. But Stephanie was taking quite a shine to Jordan, despite their earlier dustup. And, surprisingly, Jordan seemed to grow more at ease with Steph as the meal progressed.
This observation pricked at Holly’s conscience. The relief she’d felt when Jordan accepted her story about Stephanie’s conception felt shallow now. Doubt gnawed at her. Good Lord, she’d done what was best for her daughter, hadn’t she?
A single sharp knock at the front screen door gave Holly a start.
“Holly, may I come in?” a familiar male voice called.
“It’s Dr. Gabe!” Stephanie announced brightly.
Jordan looked across the table at Holly. “The famous Dr. Gabe?”
Unsure what he meant by that, she turned away and beckoned Gabe to come inside. “This is a surprise,” she greeted as her friend joined them in the dining room.
Gabe took a long look at the candlelit dinne
r table before his gaze rested on Jordan. “Seems I’ve come at a bad time.”
Holly assured him he had not. “This is Jordan Mason, an old family friend. We grew up together,” she explained. “Jordan, this is Gabriel Sawyer, our good friend.”
“And Taffy’s doctor,” chimed in Stephanie.
“And tree house builder extraordinaire.” Jordan stood up to shake Gabe’s hand
Catching the edge in Jordan’s voice, Holly frowned.
“Jordan was the neighborhood boy I told you about,” she reminded Gabe. “The one who designed the first tree house.”
Gabe nodded as Stephanie tugged on his elbow. “Why didn’t you bring Jenny?” she asked.
“Her mom actually made it home for supper tonight, so Jenny and Matt wanted to stay with her. Sorry, honey.”
“Jenny and Matt are your children?” Jordan asked Gabe.
“No, they’re my sister’s. The three of them live with me.”
“Ah, I see.”
See what? Holly wondered, puzzled by the expression on Jordan’s face.
Stephanie sighed, shaking her head. “Too bad. Jenny really likes peanut butter ripple.”
“So does Dr. Gabe, as I recall,” Holly added, motioning him to sit down.
Jordan watched the easy familiarity between Holly and Dr. Gabe. And little Stephanie also appeared to be quite comfortable with him.
“So, Gabe, what brings you here tonight?” Holly inquired as she fetched another crystal dish from the china cabinet.
“I may have some good news for you about the old apple packing plant. There’s a chance it could be rezoned for commercial retail.”
“A chance?” Holly echoed as she scooped out more ice cream. She had considered the small, rather dilapidated old packing plant as a possible site for her shop. But its neglected condition and the zoning issue proved daunting. That was months ago, however, and now she was getting desperate. “What happened?”
“After we spoke this afternoon, I discussed your location problem with the other selectmen. The packing plant came up, and George Woodbury mentioned he’s been getting a lot of complaints about it,” Gabe said as Holly handed him the dish of ice cream. “People say it’s an eyesore and possibly a safety hazard. Some want it torn down.”
