Heartsong (18 page)

Skye nodded lamely and led the way to the elevator, pushing the button to the basement floor. They made the descent silently, the only sound the almost indiscernible hum of the elevator. The large metal doors glided open and Skye stepped forward, walking directly into the cafeteria and finding a table while Jordan purchased two cups of coffee. Accepting the Styrofoam cup, Skye stared into the steaming liquid rather than meet Jordan’s eyes.

“Are you that worried about Billy?” he asked suddenly, the charcoal gray of his eyes regarding her steadily.

“Not anymore.” Her voice sounded shaky, and she was striving for a quiet firmness. “Billy’s father came. I suppose you met him in the waiting room.” She glanced briefly at Jordan. She wanted to memorize every line of his rugged features and at the same time erase his existence from her life.

“Jordan,” she began shakily, clenching her drink with both hands and avoiding looking at him. “I have something important I need to tell you.”

“Sure; what is it?” His hands gently cupped hers, his voice tender and concerned.

The hypocrisy of his concern gave her the courage to continue. “I’ve done some soul searching this weekend and …” She hesitated. Bile rose from her stomach, and for a moment she thought she might be sick.

“I’ve tried phoning several times. Where were you?”

She wanted to watch his reaction when she told him, but was incapable of looking higher than the knot of his tie. How silly it was to note how the dark blue silk sharply contrasted with the pale blue of his shirt. “The cemetery,” she murmured, returning her gaze to her coffee cup.

Jordan removed the cup from her trembling fingers as her gaze followed his action. The finger lifting her chin brought her eyes level with his.

“What were you doing in a graveyard?” he asked, his voice tight and clipped.

“I had to talk to Glen,” she said haltingly, her voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze narrowed, pinning her. “Glen is dead. You can’t talk to a dead man.”

“Glen is gone, I realize that,” she said tightly, hoping he would see the subtle difference. “But his love for me is eternal, just as mine is for him.” Rather than confront Jordan with what she’d learned, she’d decided to end it by putting forth an argument for which he had no response. She had no desire to listen to his explanations for fear they would only be more lies.

“Stop speaking of him as if he were a living, breathing person. The man’s been dead and buried for eight years. It’s time you owned up to that.”

She ignored his words and spoke with a grim kind of calm. “I was kidding myself when I accepted your marriage proposal, Jordan. There will never be another man for me. I’ve heard of women who can only love one man in their lifetime. I didn’t realize until this weekend that I was one of them.”

When she glanced at him briefly she saw that the color had drained from his face.

“I’m sorry,” she finished weakly.

“Yeah, sure. I bet you’re real sorry.” The aggression in his voice aroused the attention of others sitting nearby. Many stopped to stare at them curiously. Jordan ignored them. “I don’t know what has gotten into you, Skye, but by heaven there had better be more explanation than this boloney.” His hands gripped her wrists. “If what you say is true, then what was all that talk about wanting children?”

“I’ve always loved children. I guess it’s only natural to want one of my own, but I could never desecrate Glen’s love for me. I can’t marry you, Jordan. I belong to Glen. I always will.”

His eyes blasted her a look as frigid as the Arctic wind.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” she whispered.

He released both her wrists at once, as if he found her touch repulsive. His face was rigid as though unwilling to show any emotion or reaction.

Skye could barely breathe, the tension mounting as the silence continued.

“Under the circumstances, I can’t accept this,” she said, sounding pitifully weak. She slid the ring from her finger and held it out to him.

An eternity passed before he accepted the diamond. His hand closed over the edge of the table, and he shoved his chair outward, jerking himself upright.

Skye watched him go, her breath so shallow it was almost nonexistent. Jordan weaved around the tables with long angry strides as if he couldn’t remove himself from her fast enough. A second later he was out of sight and out of her life.

I should be grateful he’s gone. I should consider myself fortunate that he’s out of
my life
, her mind screamed, but her heart refused to listen.

“Heel, Sampson,” Janey ordered, and without hesitation the dog returned to his mistress, his tail wagging and dark eyes eager to obey.

“Sit,” she ordered next, and Sampson willingly complied, lowering his rump to the lush green grass.

“Good boy.” Big, floppy ears waited for the petting and praise. Skye lowered herself beside the dog and Janey, who was now lying on her back examining the sky with a piece of grass clenched between her teeth.

“Are you two dog trainers ready for something cold to drink?” Peggy asked from the kitchen window.

“Bring some cookies, too,” Janey instructed.

“Will do,” Peggy agreed good-naturedly and joined the pair a few minutes later with a tray containing an iced pitcher, three glasses, and a plate of cookies.

“Have a cookie, Aunt Skye. They’re chocolate chip and real yummy.”

“No thanks, cupcake.” Her appetite had been nonexistent for weeks. She ate only because it was a necessary part of life. As a result her willowy figure now bordered on gaunt, as Brad had pointedly remarked.

“When is Jordan coming to see you?” Blue eyes, miniature duplicates of her aunt’s, waited for Skye’s answer.

“He isn’t,” Skye said flatly, struggling to keep her voice steady.

“I thought Jordan was real nice. I liked him,” Janey insisted before reaching for another cookie.

“I … I think he’s nice, too,” Skye agreed tautly.

“But I thought he was nice enough to be my uncle, and you said that …”

“That’s enough, Janey,” Peggy intervened sharply, watching Skye anxiously.

Skye smiled weakly in appreciation. She didn’t want to think about Jordan or make further explanations; it only renewed the pain she was struggling to control.

“Janey, go inside and bring me my knitting.” Peggy smiled gently at her daughter. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Janey bounced from her position on the grass with the fluid grace of a young fawn.

“Don’t mind Janey,” Peggy said, her voice suddenly sober. “She’s been worried about you. We all have been. I wish things had worked out between you and Jordan. Janey doesn’t mean any harm …”

Skye swiftly interrupted. “I don’t mind, but I’m beginning to think the girl is
ninety-five percent mother hen.” The attempt at humor was accompanied by a feeble smile. Her thick lashes fluttered downward to hide the hurt and regret while her voice revealed everything. “I know it’s difficult for you to understand, but it could never have worked between Jordan and me. There has to be a basic trust and honesty between couples—something sadly lacking in our relationship.”

“But I can understand why he didn’t want you to know the truth, especially in the beginning.”

Why did Peggy have to defend him? She was experiencing so many doubts herself. It had been wrong to lie about loving Glen. Two wrongs didn’t equal a right, but she’d been deeply hurt and assumed this was the best way to break the engagement.

“I do blame him,” she said stiffly.

Peggy sighed, expelling her breath unevenly. “Brad found out something yesterday I think you should know.” She shifted uneasily, as if uncertain she should continue. “Jordan is responsible for Brad’s job. Apparently the company owner is a friend of Jordan’s, and he phoned, asking him to hire Brad. I’m glad Brad didn’t find out right away. I’m sure he would have quit, but as it’s turned out, the job is perfect for both sides. And I don’t know what we would’ve done if Brad hadn’t gone to work when he did. His self-worth, ego, and self-confidence couldn’t take much more rejection.”

A replica of a smile touched Skye’s mouth. “I think I’d already guessed that. After we learned that Jordan was responsible for Billy’s surgery and locating his father, there isn’t anything that would surprise me.”

Peggy defended him again. “His heart was in the right place. You have to admit that.”

Skye’s fingers curled around her glass of lemonade. “Perhaps. But Jordan was playing God. I don’t think he would ever have learned to trust Christ with his life. His money could buy him anything he wanted. For that reason alone I know I did the right thing.”

Peggy gave an exasperated sigh. “You’re not making any sense.”

Skye stood abruptly, impatiently. “Haven’t you ever heard the Scripture about it being harder for a camel to go through the eye of the needle in one wall of Jerusalem than for a rich man to get into heaven? I think I fully understand what Christ was saying now.”

Peggy’s expression remained troubled as she regarded her sister-in-law. “How’s Billy?”

Skye smiled, her first genuine smile of the day, a poignant catch in her voice. “He’s doing terrific!”

During the past weeks Skye had carefully weaned herself from Billy. His progress
had been phenomenal, and there was every indication he would walk again. Billy didn’t need her anymore, and for her sake as much as his, she’d spaced her visits farther and farther apart. Whatever differences Bill and Betty had experienced before were working themselves out. From what she understood, they were working with a marriage counselor. For all Skye knew Jordan had his hand in that as well.

Skye changed into her jogging clothes once she was home. She ran more and more now, and a forty-mile week was not uncommon. Running dulled her senses until she was so exhausted, it didn’t matter what thoughts her mind entertained. If anyone questioned her desire to pursue the sport, she explained that she was considering running a marathon. To prove her point she competed in the Bay to Breakers city run the third Sunday in May. She’d made respectable time, and was encouraged. At least running had helped her overcome the horrible apathy she’d experienced after last seeing Jordan.

The overcast skies didn’t discourage her, and she set her pace, attacking San Francisco’s hilly streets with a vengeance until her lungs burned and her calf muscles quivered. A loneliness beyond anything she’d ever experienced over all the years she’d lived alone came to prey on her mind. Before leaving Peggy’s that afternoon, Janey had insisted on showing her the freshly painted bedroom being readied for the baby. Bright daffodil-yellow walls decorated with Disney characters met her. The bassinet was ready and filled with tiny sleepers and booties Peggy and Janey had lovingly prepared. Skye laughed and chatted for a few minutes, examining each piece while Janey beamed with pride. But as she left, walking across the street to her car, the tears came. They were a surprise then, and she quickly wiped them aside without Janey or Peggy noticing.

Now she understood. The reality hit her, hammering into her stomach. She would never marry. She would never bear a child. When she went to bed tonight and every night for the rest of her life she would be alone. There would be no Jordan with whom to share the intimate details of her life, no Jordan to listen to her silly songs. Her songs. She almost laughed. How very grateful she was to her music. It had been difficult in the beginning, when she’d felt bone-dry of any creative ability. All her efforts had been channeled toward presenting a cheerful façade. Now she was grateful for her time at the hospital; it helped fill the void. Sally had done her best to force Skye into the dating world and wanted to set up another date with Steve King, but Skye declined with the promise that she would, given time.

Completing her run, her lungs heaving, she slowed her pace to walk the remaining blocks to the apartment. The hot water of the shower soothed her upturned face, but not her heart. Without Jordan she would need to relinquish the deep womanly desire for a child. Peggy’s rounding stomach was a knife twisting at her soul. The euphoric
experience of being a mother would be denied her. She’d relinquished so much in her life, she thought bitterly: Glen, her father, Jordan, and now children.

She dressed and forced herself to eat half a sandwich. Although she had no desire to attend the Wednesday evening church service, she refused to allow any bitterness into her life. Her trust was in the Lord, she affirmed aloud.

Skye was grateful for one thing: Jordan had never returned her father’s Bible. This was probably a subtle punishment that served its purpose in the beginning. Now she was glad he’d kept it. The time would come when he would be ready to accept Christ, and her father’s Bible would be there. She prayed that when he read it he would remember her fondly.

For the most part, her anger at his deception was gone; the hurt remained deep and painful, but that, too, would pass with time. It would be very difficult to hate someone she prayed for, and she often found her prayers centering on Jordan.

The church was quiet and peaceful, offering solace. So much had transpired this day; emotions, awakenings, realizations. She wouldn’t hide from her feelings again as she’d done after Glen and her father had died. Slipping into the wooden pew, she bowed her head in prayer. It was true she must relinquish Jordan and the desire for children, but the exchange was a fair one. Jordan had done so much for her, and she would always be grateful God had sent him into her life.

The pastor’s words cut into her thoughts as the service began. The congregation sang a few choruses, and then Peggy and Brad slipped into the pew beside Skye. The Scripture lesson was on Matthew 19. Skye flipped open the pages of her Bible to the Gospel.

“And I say to you again,” the pastor began, reading, “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”

Uneasily Skye felt her stomach begin to twist, and she sent Peggy a confused look.

Peggy shrugged, her eyes as perplexed as Skye’s.

“To fully understand this verse,” the pastor began to explain, “one must realize that the eye of a needle was the name of a gate, and it was possible for a camel to gain entrance, but first any cargo must be unloaded.” He continued by making the comparison between the camel’s cargo and our worldly goods. “Next the camel was forced to get down on his knees.”