Where the Heart Lies
Page 13
“I’ll take your dishes away.” As Molly carefully lifted the tray off her mother’s legs, Jordan marveled at how she’d managed to raise such a great kid, despite everything they’d gone through.
After Molly left, Jordan threw her covers off, and discovered she was wearing a different nightgown than the one she’d had on when Clay came by on Friday. Realizing that he must have changed her at some point during her illness, Jordan suffered a moment of embarrassment—before reassuring herself that it was nothing he hadn’t seen before. Her body wasn’t quite as taut as it had been a decade ago, especially since Molly’s birth, but she still kept herself in good shape. Not that it mattered, when she was so pale, grimy and sweaty, and probably foul smelling to boot.
Just as she was contemplating whether she was strong enough to make it to the bathroom, she heard a knock at the door.
“Come in, sweetie,” she said, expecting it was Molly again.
Instead Clay entered the room. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, his hair rumpled on one side as though he’d been napping. Probably worn out from looking after her day and night, she surmised.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Much better. Thanks for taking care of us, Clay. I think we’ll be fine now. You don’t have to stay.”
Ignoring her dismissal, Clay drew the curtain open to let in some light and then sat on the edge of the bed, appraising her. “Have you had enough to eat?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, growing uneasy under his intense gaze. “I must look frightful.”
“You are always beautiful, Jordan.”
Warmth flooded her face, not due to illness this time. “I can only imagine what my breath must be like. And my hair.” She smoothed a hand over her head, feeling the lank, greasy strands.
“Stop worrying about that,” Clay said. “I’ve seen you with your head over the toilet. Right now you look positively radiant by comparison.”
“I threw up? I don’t remember that at all.” She cringed, mortified by the thought of it.
“I’m not surprised. You were in rough shape.”
Jordan nibbled on her bottom lip, still embarrassed. “I’m sorry to put you to all this trouble. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you here mopping my brow and keeping me hydrated.”
He smiled. “I was happy to do it. Do you need anything?”
“I was hoping to take a bath.”
He nodded. “I’ll get it ready for you.”
As though duty-bound, he moved swiftly to the ensuite bathroom, where she soon heard water running in the tub. A few minutes later the sound ceased and Clay returned to Jordan’s side. He helped her out of bed and held her around the waist as they moved together to the bathroom, which was more assistance than Jordan thought she needed, although she was hardly in a position to complain.
“I’m sure I can manage from here,” she said, as he set her down on the edge of the tub.
“You’re sure?”
Though she wasn’t entirely sure, she knew she didn’t want his help getting into the tub, an activity she intended to do naked and without him observing her clammy, unwashed body, even if he’d already seen it.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
Clay nodded. “I’m going to the store to pick up a few things. You’re out of milk and bread. I’ll be back soon.”
“Thank you.”
Before leaving her he hooked her robe on the back of the door, and then found a fresh towel in the linen closet and placed it on the edge of the counter. She didn’t remember him being quite this thoughtful back in university, but then he’d never looked after her when she was sick. She could definitely get used to this sort of pampering.
Standing up, Jordan first brushed her teeth over the sink; then she slipped off her nightgown and stepped into the tub. Slowly she sank into the hot water, sighing deeply as it lapped over her sore muscles. Once she had washed herself from head to foot, she felt truly rejuvenated, although still weak, with hunger pangs beginning again.
She wasn’t aware of how much time had passed when the water began to cool and she reluctantly pulled the plug. Stepping carefully out of the tub, she dried off and wrapped herself in her robe, then assessed her reflection in the mirror. She still looked sallow and hollow-eyed, but somewhat refreshed, which made her feel immeasurably better. After brushing out her wet hair, she made her way back into the bedroom and lay down on the bed, closing her eyes.
She was dozing when a knock at the door roused her.
“Come in,” she said.
“Everything okay?” In the doorway, Clay was holding a tall glass of orange juice, which he set on her bedside table. “You’re looking much better.”
“I feel pretty good overall.”
A broad smile lit his handsome face. “Great.”
“Clay, you’ve been so wonderful,” Jordan said, her voice unexpectedly wavering with emotion. “Is there anything I can do to thank you?”
Clay didn’t reply at first. To her surprise, he sat on the bed and then stretched out next to her, bending to kiss her lightly on the tip of her nose. Laying his head beside hers on the pillow, he held her in his penetrating gaze for what seemed like ages before he spoke.
“Marry me,” he said finally.
Jordan laughed, disbelieving. “Come on, Clay.”
“I’m serious.”
Another burst of laughter came out of her, but this time it was a release of intense emotion, a blending of relief and exhilaration. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“What I want is for you to be my wife, as you should’ve been eleven years ago.”
As he spoke Jordan felt him press something small into her palm. She opened her hand and sucked in her breath; a slender gold band sat there, set with a dazzling ruby. “You kept it all these years?” she whispered in disbelief.
“My mother did. When you gave it back to me I didn’t have the heart to sell it, so I left it with Mom, just in case. She never got rid of it.”
“It’s still every bit as stunning.” With some effort, Jordan raised herself onto her elbow. She turned the ring from side to side, letting sunlight dance over the crimson stone.
“So are you,” Clay said, his warm gaze capturing hers.
Her heart felt ready to soar, but a twinge of unease persisted. “Clay, there’s one other thing you need to understand. If you’re thinking you might persuade me to try fertility treatments again, I’m so sorry but I won’t do it. I just can’t go through that again.”
One of his broad shoulders lifted. “That’s not what I was thinking. I was actually thinking about adoption.”
“But you’ve told me how much it means to you to have your own flesh-and-blood child,” Jordan countered.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, Clay drew her to him so their bodies were molded together, their faces close. “It would be ideal, yes. But I want to have a family with you, and if that means adoption, so be it. The idea is actually kind of exciting.”
Jordan’s smile bubbled up from a well of pure happiness gathering inside her. Over the past two days he had done a lot of thinking—but instead of deciding she couldn’t give him what he truly wanted, he’d come to embrace what they could give one another.
Jordan didn’t need any time at all to think things over; at this moment her heart told her all she needed to know.
“But I can’t help feeling it’s so unfair to you,” she added as a last, half-hearted protest.
“No one ever promised me life was going to be perfect,” Clay said. “The day I lost my father I figured out life isn’t fair. But any family I have with you will be perfect. A dream come true for me.” He stroked her cheek with his palm, and though she was still weak, a delicious warm shiver coursed through her. “There’s nothing I could wish for that could be more perfect than lying next to you like this with the warm sunshine lighting up your hair against the pillow—nothing more ideal than waking up to your smile every morning for the rest of my life
.”
Trembling with exhilaration, Jordan couldn’t speak. It was exactly the same thing she’d wished for on a star that night so many years ago, but had never believed she could have.
She kissed him fervently, joyously. Then she glanced down again at the ring in the palm of her hand.
“Giving this back to you was the hardest thing I ever did,” she said. “You know, I never let go of the hope, however slight, that someday you’d give it back to me. Even though I was sure you’d have gotten rid of it.”
“Maybe it was fate.” Clay raised her other hand to his lips, kissing each finger lightly. “I don’t know what else to call it. If you hadn’t taken over your uncle’s bookstore, if Alice and Molly hadn’t ended up in the same class, if Sheryl hadn’t been as nosy as she is, we wouldn’t be here together now. But there’s one thing I need to know.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Do you love me?”
Her trembling lips forming a smile, Jordan choked out her answer. “With all my heart.”
“So tell me then, Jordan Lewis, will you be my wife?” he asked again.
She slid the ring onto her finger, finding it to still be a perfect fit. Her shaky smile widened. “Clay McAdam, I will.”
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Other books by Susan R. Hughes:
Divided Hearts
Wine & Roses
Secret Vow
Healing Anna’s Heart
Visit www.susanrhughes.weebly.com