“Jordan, I’m sorry I didn’t call you yesterday,” he said. “Something came up.”
“It’s all right. I’ve been really busy, anyway,” she said, hoping she sounded convincingly casual, while inside her heart was turning celebratory somersaults.
“What came up is that Sheryl had her baby. Gorgeous little girl named Sarah Rose.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.”
“I’m going to see them again this evening at the hospital,” Clay said. “Will you come with me?”
Jordan wasn’t sure how keen Sheryl would be to see her, but she couldn’t refuse. “Of course.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty. Can’t wait to see you.”
“See you then.”
Jordan hung up the phone, a light, exultant sensation stealing over her. She couldn’t wait to see him, either, and at that moment she didn’t mind at all feeling as giddy as a teenager.
Chapter Ten
“Mom, if you’re only going to be gone an hour, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Molly plopped herself onto the sofa, tucking her legs up beside her. To Jordan she looked small and vulnerable curled up on the cushion, and she had to suppress an impulse to call Adele and ask her to come by and keep an eye on her.
“I just want to make sure you know—”
“Don’t answer the phone, don’t answer the door, don’t use the stove, I know,” Molly said, her eyes rolling upward.
“Good girl.” Jordan leaned in and planted a spontaneous kiss on her daughter’s forehead, smoothing her hair back with her hand.
“I still wish I could go with you,” Molly said gloomily.
“They can’t have too many visitors at one time.” Jordan checked her watch. It was six-thirty-three; a sudden fluttering sensation stirred in her belly. “You’ll see the baby in a few days, once she’s home.”
Jordan glanced through the sidelight beside the door, seeing no one on the front step. More as a distraction than anything else, she dug her lipstick out of her purse and paused by the mirror in the vestibule to apply another coat to her lips.
“You look really pretty, Mom,” Molly said behind her. “Clay will be impressed.”
“Thanks, but I’m going to the hospital to visit someone, I’m not going on a date.”
“But you do look pretty.”
Jordan assessed herself in the mirror. She was wearing the same slim black skirt and embroidered peasant blouse she’d worn all day at the bookstore, but she’d spent some extra time on her hair and makeup after she got home, trying her best not to look worn out from a busy day. Despite what she told Molly, it did feel a little like a date; she was more nervous and conscious of her appearance than she ought to be for a visit to the hospital.
When the doorbell sounded, Jordan jumped.
“I’ll get it!” Leaping off the sofa, Molly dashed to the door and yanked it open, ushering Clay into the house.
“Hey, Molly, how are you?” he asked brightly. “I heard you’re staying home by yourself tonight.” When his gaze fell on Jordan, his lips curved into a sensual smile, making her heart turn over. As she moved to retrieve her purse from the coffee table, her legs felt slightly jelly-like.
“Yeah,” Molly told him, “I’m just gonna watch some TV. Maybe smoke a few cigarettes, get out the Ouija board and contact the spirits. Nothing special.”
“Where do you get this sarcasm?” Jordan drew her daughter into a quick hug. “Be good. Remember, I won’t be long.”
As she was turning to go, she remembered the gift she’d bought for the baby, which she’d left in a gift bag by the coat closet. She scooped it up as they headed out the door.
Locking the door behind her from the porch, Jordan suffered another stab of anxiety, which must have registered on her face.
“Don’t worry about her,” Clay said, “she’s a smart kid. She’ll be fine.”
“I know, I know. But she’s still so young.”
Jordan was about to step off the porch when his arms encircled her waist, drawing her close. His mouth settled onto hers, locking her into a toe-tingling kiss. Before she could protest that Molly might be watching through the window, she found herself melting into him, all other thoughts flying from her mind as she succumbed to the sheer bliss of his embrace.
Once they parted, she looked into his face and grinned.
“Sorry, I seem to have decorated you,” she said breathily, reaching up to wipe a smudge of mauve lipstick from his lower lip.
Clay smiled grimly. “Is it my shade?”
“It’s a touch dark for you, but you could pull it off,” she said, feeling light-hearted and somewhat less nervous. “Come on, let’s go.”
Dean greeted them just inside the door of Sheryl’s private room, as though he’d been anticipating their arrival, eager to introduce someone new to his tiny daughter.
“Come on in, you two.” Beaming, he guided them to the bed, where Sheryl was sitting up, wearing her dressing gown. “Jordan, I’d like you to meet Sarah Rose Hanson.”
Asleep in Sheryl’s arms, the baby lay wrapped in a blanket with a pink crocheted hat covering her head. Sheryl nodded to the two visitors in greeting, her gaze flickering down briefly to take in Clay and Jordan’s clasped hands.
“She’s gorgeous.” Jordan gazed down at the baby, admiring the rosebud lips, slightly parted, and the tiny delicate fingers folded over the edge of the blanket. She could barely remember Molly being that size. “Congratulations. How are you feeling?”
“As exhausted as I’ve ever been in my life,” Sheryl said, “but I supposed I should get used to that.” Though pale with dark shadows under her eyes, her face glowed with contentment.
Dean leaned in to lightly stroke baby Sarah’s cheek. “Everything went really smoothly—even though she came a little earlier than expected. Sheryl was amazing.”
Remembering the gift she’d brought, Jordan handed the bag to Sheryl, who thanked her and, having only one free hand, passed it to her husband to open. He lifted out a small book—a volume of poems for children that Jordan had picked up on her way home from work.
“It’s for when she’s a bit older,” Jordan explained. “I’ve always loved poetry, and I thought, what better way to spark a child’s interest at a young age.”
Sheryl smiled, running her hand over the embossed cover. “It’s wonderful. Thank you so much. I’m sure Sarah will love it.” She gazed down at the sleeping infant, then up at Jordan. “Would you like to hold her?”
“Sure, of course.”
Carefully Sheryl handed over the baby, and Jordan held the tiny bundle close to her body; the child felt warm and solid in her arms.
Holding a newborn for the first time in many years, she couldn’t help recalling the many hours she’d spent at the fertility clinic with Richard attempting to create a child of their own. She remembered little else that had transpired in her life during that period but the endless tests, the daily injections, and the series of painful procedures. All of it was supposed to be worth it in the end, the expected result a perfect little being like the one now cradled in her arms. And when the miracle they felt they had earned failed to materialize, Jordan had never in her life felt so hollow and inadequate.
Worse than that was the devastation she saw in Richard’s face, and the look he gave her, unconsciously perhaps, and for only the briefest of moments, that conveyed his disappointment in her.
But that wasn’t the worst part of it, she realized with a pang of regret. In many ways Molly had borne the brunt of the whole ordeal. The months they spent trying to conceive a baby had been so emotionally draining for Jordan and Richard that they’d had little to spare for the child they already had. Jordan was determined never to put her daughter through that again.
Blinking back tears that threatened to betray her feelings to those around her, she passed the baby to Clay. He held Sarah gingerly, swaying slightly as he gazed down at with her with wonder and emotion brimming in his eyes. Jordan felt h
er stomach tighten; it wasn’t helping her mood to see him enjoying his new niece so immensely.
“You look very natural with a baby,” Sheryl remarked brightly. “Good thing Mom isn’t here. She’d be all over you with her not-so-subtle hints.”
“Never mind,” Clay said. “This one should keep her occupied for a while.” His eyes seeking Jordan’s, he smiled serenely—and she summoned a smile in return, though her heart ached. She couldn’t bear the idea of one day seeing resentment in his eyes because she had cheated him of the one thing he desired most.
“I feel like a coffee,” Sheryl declared, jarring Jordan from her melancholy thoughts. “And one of those chocolate cookies they have at the snack bar. Would someone mind getting them for me?”
“Sure, I’ll go,” Dean was quick to volunteer. “I could use a zap of energy myself.”
Clay slid the baby back into his sister’s arms. “I’ll go with you. I could use one, too. Jordan, would you like something?”
“No, thank you,” she replied slowly, attempting to convey with a covert glare her aversion to being left alone with his sister, though she wasn’t about to insist on going with them.
Oblivious to Jordan’s discomfort, the men headed out of the room, leaving the two women alone. Jordan wandered to the side of the bed by the window, her gaze fastened on the baby, who yawned and flexed her miniature fingers before settling back into a contented sleep.
When Sheryl spoke at last, her tone remained bright. “Did you see Clay with Sarah? We could barely pry her out of his hands yesterday. Quite a contrast to when Alice was born. Clay was terrified to hold her. He didn’t have much interest in kids back then.”
Jordan merely nodded, returning a weak smile.
Sheryl paused a moment, settling her gaze on Jordan. “I suppose that had something to do with your breakup.”
“That was a part of it,” Jordan admitted, taken aback by Sheryl’s candour.
“Well I can’t say I blame you. I don’t know what I’d do without our little ones.” Sheryl surveyed Jordan with narrowed eyes. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”
“Go ahead.”
“I overheard something Molly told Alice. She said you can’t have any more children. I realize it’s none of my business, but I just wanted to check with you in case, you know, you hadn’t said anything to Clay about it yet.”
Alarmed, Jordan only stared at Sheryl, feeling her heart begin to hammer. Of course Molly knew all about the fertility treatments, and it stood to reason she might share that information with her close friends, but all the same Jordan hadn’t expected to hear about it this way.
Her silence made it obvious she hadn’t told Clay.
“Are you in love with my brother?” Sheryl asked then.
With no time to think of how she ought to reply, Jordan simply admitted, “I suppose I am.”
Sheryl offered a warm smile. “I think he feels the same way about you. I’ve been an overprotective sister, I know. But Clay obviously cares about you and wants you in his life. Which is why, well …”
Jordan stiffened, anticipating further surprises. “What?”
Sheryl nibbled the corner of her lip, hesitating before she continued. “Seeing the two of you with Sarah, it looked like he’s got his heart set on having a little one of his own. With you.”
“I realize that.” Jordan drew a long breath, feeling her heart begin a slow descent into the pit of her stomach. She stole a glance at the door, silently willing Clay to return before she had to deal with any further interrogation from his sister.
The baby squirmed in Sheryl’s arms and she rocked the child gently to calm her. “Again, none of my business. I just think he has a right to know what he’s getting into.”
As Sheryl glanced up, Jordan thought she saw a glimmer of self-satisfaction in her expression, and resentment flared. “Not to be rude, but I’d rather not discuss this with you before I discuss it with him.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t worry.” Her gaze steady, Sheryl regarded Jordan with a compassionate tilt of her head. “After all, he’s giving up the show he was offered to stay here with you.”
Jordan frowned, shaking her head. “He told me he doesn’t want to do the show.”
“He told me that, too, but I’m not sure I believe him. Don’t get me wrong. I want him to stay in Victoria. I’ve hardly seen him in years. But I also want him to do what makes him happy. I saw the look in his eyes when he talked about the opportunity to do that profile of Troy. I’m sure you did, too. He didn’t give up his old show by choice, after all.”
Jordan didn’t have time to reply before the men’s voices filtered into the room from the hallway.
She turned to watch them stroll into the room, catching Clay’s eye as Dean handed Sheryl her coffee and cookie.
“I have to get home,” Jordan told Clay briskly. “Sorry. I told Molly I’d only be gone an hour.”
“All right.”
After offering her congratulations again, Jordan slipped out of the room with Clay behind her.
“That book you brought for Sarah was very thoughtful,” he remarked, as they headed for the elevator.
“I wasn’t sure about it,” Jordan said, her tone subdued. “Most people give baby gifts to a newborn.”
Clay touched her arm. “You look unhappy. Did Sheryl say something to upset you?”
“Nothing, really. I’m just tired.”
They stepped into an empty elevator, and as the door slid closed, Clay bent to set his coffee cup on the floor and then gathered Jordan into his arms and drew her tightly to him, pressing his lips to her temple in a series of delicate kisses that sent warm sparks of sensation tripping along her limbs. As she settled happily against his warm, firm chest, he began swaying her gently in time to the soft muzak filtering into the elevator from above.
“You’re dancing,” she said, enjoying the motion. “I used to try to persuade you to dance with me but you always refused.”
“Because I was terrible at it.” Quiet laughter rumbled through his chest. “I had planned on surprising you by taking lessons so I could dance with you at our wedding without embarrassing myself. But when the wedding didn’t happen I never got around to it.”
“You’re doing all right.” Jordan couldn’t help but wonder what sort of wedding he’d had with Kathryn, big or small and intimate, and at what exotic locale it might have taken place. She felt a momentary stab of jealousy, imagining her Clay exchanging vows with this other woman—someone he must have truly loved at the time—as though in some way he’d always belonged to Jordan, despite the fact that they’d both been married to other people.
“Good. I still want to impress you when we finally do get married,” Clay said, his warm breath caressing her cheek as he continued to rock her slowly.
Startled, she tilted her face up to meet his gaze. “Clay—”
“I’m serious—I want to marry you, Jordan.” His fingers curled around her neck, his thumb gently stroking the curve of her jaw. His gaze held hers, warm and intent. “But I think I understand what you wanted to tell me the other day on the ferry. After two failed marriages, it stands to reason that you’d be cautious of jumping into another one, or even terrified of the notion. So I’m not asking you for an answer right now, but I want you to know that I intend to propose, officially, whenever you’re ready to be asked.”
Jordan didn’t reply, but laid her head against his shoulder, holding in her breath to struggle against the tears that burned behind her eyes. How surprised would he be if she accepted his proposal right then and there? She was aching to do it—but she couldn’t. He needed to know the truth first, before making a commitment he might regret.
As the elevator doors slid open on the main floor, Jordan clutched him a little tighter for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut to press the moment into her memory—as though it might be her last chance to hold him like this.
* * *
“It’s time I got serious about finding
my own place,” Clay told his sister, as he set his laptop on the glass top of her coffee table.
“There’s no rush.” Sheryl observed him drowsily from the other end of the sofa. Baby Sarah lay asleep on her lap, her head resting in the crook of her mother’s arm. “I’ve enjoyed having you here. Besides, you’ve spoiled me. Who’s going to rub my feet and fetch me tea while Dean’s at work?”
Clay smiled. “I’m sure we could all use a little breathing room.” More than Sheryl and her family he was thinking of Jordan. If their relationship were to continue as it was going, a little more privacy would be essential.
“I guess you’re right.” Sheryl paused to press the back of her hand to her mouth, stifling a yawn. “Although I’d selfishly like to keep you here as long as possible. I feel like we’ve been closer these last few weeks than we have since we were kids. And I don’t just mean in proximity; I mean we’ve actually gotten to know each other as adults. The last time I spent any real time with you, Clay, you were barely out of your teens.”
“I feel the same way.” Along with a surge of affection for his sister, Clay suffered a pang of guilt for neglecting his family over the years. He knew they were proud of his accomplishments and supported his career choices, but it had all come at a cost.
Browsing the real estate listings, he found his attention drawn to houses with enough room for him, Jordan and Molly—and perhaps a few more sometime in the future.
Glancing at the swirl of fine hairs on the crown of his tiny niece’s head, he felt a bubble of excitement rise in his chest, envisioning a future full of possibilities for him and Jordan. Reluctant as she was to commit herself to him, he’d felt her resistance softening the last time they were together; he need only be patient and eventually her heart would open to him.
Where the Heart Lies Page 11