Heartsong

by Debbie Macomber

  “Where are we going?” They were halfway across the school yard before she thought to ask.

  Placing an arm around her shoulder, he glanced at her questioning eyes. “That depends,” he answered cryptically. “Why don’t we go to your apartment first? We need to talk. We’ll decide from there.”

  Skye glanced again at the uneasiness she’d read in his eyes. He’s going to ask me to marry him, she thought, and he’s nervous. An overwhelming surge of love rose within her. Just as she knew his question, she knew her answer. She loved Jordan, and she wanted one day when the time was right to have his children. Together they would build a meaningful life. The differences in their beliefs would work themselves out. He wasn’t a committed believer yet, but Skye had to believe that he was searching and that one day he would be.

  All at once she was as nervous as Jordan and chatted all the way to her apartment. She put water on the stove while Jordan remained in her living room. She studied his profile anxiously, waiting.

  “Skye, let’s talk.”

  Instantly she moved into the living room and sat opposite him, her heart pounding wildly. She felt like a young girl nervously anticipating her first kiss.

  “Yes, Jordan.”

  In a lazy, withdrawn manner he studied her, the pause lengthening. Skye had seen him use that expression only once before, and then, unexpectedly, a feeling of dread came over her.

  “I was happy to be in church with you last Sunday and listen to your music. It gave me an opportunity to record you without your knowledge. Dan Murphy listened to the tape and would like to offer you a recording contract.”

  In a hurt, confused action, Skye quickly averted her face. Closing her eyes to block the pain, she pressed her lips tightly together. It hurt that Jordan had gone against her wishes in such an underhanded way. She would never have believed him capable of something like this.

  “I’m … I’m not interested.” She wanted to scream it at him, but instead remained outwardly calm and composed. Suddenly the living room became claustrophobic, and she jerked herself upright and stood before the bay window.

  Jordan followed. “I don’t think you understand what you’re refusing.” His gaze flickered over her as she stood, her back stiff and erect. “You’ve got it, Skye. Talent. Beauty. Appeal. You’re superstar material, and I’ll back you every way I can.”

  Skye looked at him with a sickening kind of disbelief and hugged her stomach, needing the warmth and protection her arms provided. Hanging her head, a numbness stole over her. And she’d thought he was going to ask her to be his wife. It was almost worth laughing over.

  Jordan reached out to touch her, but she roughly pulled away, her indomitable pride taking over. “Please, don’t touch me,” she said, anger wobbling her voice. “What’s in it for you, Jordan? Twenty percent?” she asked contemptuously.

  The muscles along the sides of his jaw tightened and jerked. “That’s enough,” he returned.

  “You’re wrong. It’s not nearly enough.” Remaining another second in his presence was more than she could bear. “I think it’s time you left.” She could hear Jordan behind her and was caught by her arm and turned around so she had no choice but to face him.

  “Skye, listen to me,” he ground out.

  Frantically she struggled against him, but it was useless to struggle; he held her helpless for several minutes until the wild, crazy tempo of their hearts returned to a normal pace. Only then did his grip slacken, but he still didn’t release her. His fingers combed through her hair, easing it away from her face.

  He cupped her face, drawing it upward, but she stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. “I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. Skye, I love you.”

  Swallowing the painful lump in her throat halted her cry of disbelief. The heightened color of her face swiftly drained, leaving her deathly pale. From somewhere her proud anger responded.

  “Sure you do.” Her voice was thick with sarcasm. His lie slashed deep into her already wounded heart. Was he so desperate that he would go to any length to have her sign a contract?

  “I deserve that.” He laughed bitterly. “I don’t blame you for doubting.” His thumb moved slowly across her cheek. “Answer me one thing. Do you honestly believe I’d take advantage of you?” The lack of emotion in his voice gave his question all the more significance.

  Her instincts told her she could trust him with her life, but logically she couldn’t dismiss his repeated insistence that she become a professional singer. Unable to find the words to answer him and equally unable to trust herself to look into his eyes, she turned her face away.

  Swiftly he brought it back, the steel gray of his eyes pinning her. “I had to know,” he ground out angrily. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you. You crashed into my life with a force that sent me reeling. At first you were just a challenge—the girl with the witty façade who was hiding from the real world. But the more I came to know you, the more I realized that you were everything good I’ve ever dreamed a woman could be.” His fingers dug into her shoulders. “Don’t you know what it cost me to make that offer? I had to be sure. Can’t you see that? I want a wife, not a career woman yearning after the glamour and glitter of footlights.”

  Risking a glance, and yet afraid to believe the fragile hope stirring within her, Skye found his dark gray eyes gleaming with intensity.

  “You love me?” she whispered, unsure of anything at the moment.

  “More than I thought it was possible to love anyone,” he expelled with a shuddering breath.

  Her lips trembled, and she bowed her head weakly to shield her eyes. “I want to believe you, Jordan,” she whispered huskily. “I love you, too.”

  The response for each was as automatic as breathing, and Skye was crushed against the steel hardness of his torso.

  Against her mouth, Jordan murmured, “Trust me, my love.”

  “I want to,” she admitted, and her voice cracked.

  Framing her face with his hands, he raised her eyes upward. “I need you, Skye. My world would be a dark hole without you now.” He paused, a smile forming at the grooves of his mouth. “Who would have ever thought a funny little girl who hides cash in her shoes would steal my heart so completely? Skye Garvin, will you be my wife now and for all our lives?”

  Wide blue eyes stared at him with all the yearnings of her heart. “I … I don’t know …” Somehow the words wouldn’t form. It was what she wanted with all her heart. Why was she hesitating?

  Dark furrows ran across Jordan’s forehead, drawing his brows together. Suddenly the reality of his love confronted her, and with a happy laugh she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him close.

  “Yes,” she said joyfully. As the excitement began to diminish, her expression turned serious. “It would be the greatest honor of my life to be your wife and bear your children.”

  Locked in his arms, Skye surrendered as he hungrily sought her lips, parting them with a desperate need.

  A burning question remained unanswered. Skye ended the kiss. “Jordan, what would you have done if I’d agreed to sign the contract?” Her voice reflected the importance of the question.

  Jordan cupped her chin. Indecision danced across his face, twisting his mouth into a cynical mask. “Exactly as I said. I’d have done everything in my power to make you into the superstar you have every possibility of being.” He lowered himself onto the sofa; then his muscular arm circled her waist and he drew her onto his lap. Skye looped her arms around his neck, urging his mouth to hers. The moment was tender and serene, each of them absorbed in the magnificent gift of love God had granted them.

  “I want to tell you about Glen,” Skye whispered tautly, resting her head against his shoulder.

  She didn’t need to explain who Glen was; Jordan knew. His fingers began a comforting, stroking action down the length of her hair. “You don’t need to tell me.”

  “But I want you to know.” She sighed softly. “Glen was a wonderful Christian man. Dedicated, sin
cere, gentle, everything a woman could want. We fell in love when I was fifteen and he was twenty-one.”

  Skye could feel Jordan tense, the muscles of his jaw constricted. “You were hardly more than a child. You couldn’t possibly have been in love.” He dismissed her claim.

  Tenderly her hand explored his jaw, caressing and gentle. This would be as difficult for him as it was for her. But it needed to be said.

  “We knew. Brad and Glen were best friends, and Glen was always around. Neither of us openly acknowledged our love back then, but we knew. Without a spoken word Glen waited for me to grow up. I know he suffered wretchedly through my first dates and the junior and senior proms. But he need never have doubted. In my heart there was only him. I never considered marrying anyone else. The day I graduated from high school he gave me an engagement ring. I think Mom and Dad were shocked; as far as they knew Glen and I had never so much as dated. Neither of us wanted a long engagement, but my parents insisted I attend a year of college first. The request didn’t bother us. We had our whole lives ahead of us. Then Glen decided to enter the ministry and enrolled in a Bible institute back east. We planned to marry the summer before he left, but my dad was having health problems, so we decided to wait until that Christmas.” Unexpectedly her voice throbbed with remembered pain. “I … I never saw him again.”

  “Don’t tell me, Skye.” Jordan kissed her hair ever so gently. “I don’t need to know.”

  “I want you to know.” She smiled, loving him with a ferocity that paled in comparison with the love she had lost so many years before.

  “About the time Glen began his studies, the doctors discovered my father had cancer. It was agony to witness this robust man waste away. I sat with Dad at the hospital for hours, reading him Scripture, holding his hand, anything to lessen the pain. Dad had always liked to hear me sing, so I started bringing my guitar. I played and created songs to amuse him. Then … then we learned Glen had been killed. He was driving home. He’d … he’d decided he was needed here in San Francisco with me … the car skidded on an icy patch in the road and Glen was killed instantly. Afterward my music was the only thing that kept me sane. I spent hours alone singing out my grief. Up to this time my voice had been normal, nothing spectacular. But it changed. As Dad got worse, I played more and more. Dying was agony. But death came sweet, gentle, and welcome. My new voice was God’s gift. I could never exploit this talent. Since that time I’ve always used it as a means of bringing solace to others or to praise God.”

  Jordan’s eyes filled with compassion as he viewed the tears that made wet paths down her cheeks. Carefully he brushed the hair from her damp face and tenderly kissed away each tear.

  Chapter Nine

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?” Sally’s eyes studied Skye.

  “Of course not. I love Anne Marie,” Skye quickly assured her, doing her best to conceal a smile of pure delight at having the baby for the evening.

  “We shouldn’t be late, and she’ll probably sleep the whole time.” Carefully Sally placed the sleeping infant inside the playpen that was serving as a substitute crib.

  “It’s fine, Sally, don’t worry. Even if she does wake, I won’t mind. I don’t see enough of Anne Marie as it is.” Her warm blue eyes shifted from the slumbering babe to Sally.

  “Jordan’s not coming, is he?” Again Sally voiced her concern.

  “No, but he’ll probably phone. He does every night. You and Andy go and have a good time. Be sure and tell Andy I expect him to get this promotion.”

  “The phone number of the restaurant is in the diaper bag. Please don’t hesitate to call if you need to.”

  “Yes, little mother.” Skye mockingly rolled her eyes and eased Sally toward the front door.

  “If she does wake, just warm her bottle and feed her. She’ll go right back to sleep.”

  “Yes, Sally! You’ve already gone over everything at least twice.” Opening the door, Skye ushered her into the hall. “I have your phone number, the doctor’s phone number, the fire department’s phone number, and on the off chance I spot a UFO, I have a phone number for them, too.” The corners of her mouth turned upward in a teasing motion.

  Sally giggled instantly. “I guess I am making a bit of a fuss. I really appreciate your taking over at the last minute like this. I don’t know what we would have done.”

  “Nonsense,” Skye said, dismissing the gratitude. “Didn’t you say Andy was waiting in the car? Now scat.” She grinned and shooed her friend away.

  “All right, I’m out of here. We do appreciate it, Skye, more than words can say.”

  “Have a good time, and don’t worry about Anne Marie.”

  “We won’t,” Sally promised.

  Locking the door behind her, Skye tiptoed to the sleeping baby. Brown wisps of naturally curly hair framed angelic features. Sighing contentedly, Skye gently tugged the blankets around Anne Marie.

  The two weeks had passed slowly. Jordan had been busy and unable to visit. Their only communication had been the daily phone calls, and these were often short, leaving them both frustrated.

  Skye hadn’t even been able to ask Jordan about a ring, and she wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. There seemed to be so much to say and so little time to discuss the things that mattered.

  She hadn’t mentioned Jordan’s marriage proposal to her family. She’d rather they did it together, not that it was going to be any big surprise. Skye could no more hide her love for Jordan now than Peggy could disguise her pregnancy.

  She curled up on the sofa reading. It was quiet, peacefully so, especially since John Dirkson had moved. Yet her mind raced with a thousand anxieties. Dr. Snell had been to the hospital to examine Billy, and the surgery looked promising. But the strain of the unknown, the intense desire to do everything possible to help Billy and his mother, brought a worried frown to her forehead. Betty Fisher had been edgy under the strain of the uncertainty, relying more and more on Skye for support and comfort. These were the things Skye wanted to share with Jordan. She needed to express her own doubts and fears. She prayed continually for Billy and the success of the surgery, but her own burning desire to have Billy free from paralysis blocked her will from submission. She recalled the last painful days of her father’s life and the desperate desire for his healing. He was healed, of course, but not in the way Skye had hoped. It was little comfort to a grieving daughter to realize her father was free from pain and cancer in heaven.

  Thoughts of her father brought to mind something he had told her years before. With a burst of energy she crafted a bright, colorful sign that read:

  WORRY

  serves no useful purpose

  is of no value

  and doesn’t change a thing.

  With a revived sense of serenity she taped the sign to her refrigerator door, knowing she would see it often and be reminded of her father’s wisdom.

  Feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, Skye placed the kettle on the stove to boil. She’d just finished adding the tea bag to the boiling water when Anne Marie woke. She was startled by the strange surroundings and the unfamiliar face and gave a loud cry of alarm. Gently cooing reassurances, Skye lifted the babe from the playpen and placed her over her shoulder. Patting her back, Skye hoped to urge her to sleep. While pacing the floor, Skye happened to glance out her window and observed a black car pull alongside the curb. Smoothly Jordan swung open the door and glanced toward her window, catching her eye.

  A warm tingle of excitement raced through Skye, and she waved, her whole face brightening. Jordan hadn’t figured on another visit until the end of the week, but nothing he did surprised her anymore. His job at the radio station, although he rarely spoke of it, was demanding and time consuming. She had learned their time together must revolve around his schedule.

  Noticing the baby in Skye’s arms, Jordan cast her a skeptical glance. Skye watched as his expression changed from puzzlement to one of amusement. The lines at the corners of his eyes broke into
smiling crow’s-feet as he moved from her sight and into the building.

  Skye was waiting for him with the door open, her smile one of welcome and pleasure.

  “You surprised me … It’s good to see you.” That was a gross understatement. Her heart beat urgently, anticipating his firm kiss. She wasn’t disappointed. He closed the door with his foot and claimed possession of her mouth. Even with the baby in her arms, her pliant body bent toward him, yielding to his kiss.

  “That alone was worth the hassle of getting to you tonight,” he said, his voice low and disturbed.

  Dazed and happy, Skye blinked her liquid blue eyes. She was forced to draw her attention back to the baby, who began to fuss in earnest.

  “Anne Marie Avery, daughter of Sally Avery.” She laid the crying baby on her arm for Jordan’s inspection. “I would like to introduce you to the man I love, Jordan Kiley.”

  Anne Marie cried furiously, her reddened face twisting angrily while tears rolled from her squinted eyes.

  “She doesn’t seem to be impressed.” Jordan shrugged, studying her.

  “Give her time,” Skye teased. “She hasn’t woken up enough to appreciate your obvious male charm.”

  Anne Marie screamed at fever pitch and kicked with all the strength of her eight-month-old limbs, fighting Skye’s attempts to change her diaper.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Out of his element, concern laced Jordan’s voice.

  “Nothing a dry diaper and warm bottle won’t cure,” she assured him, bringing a bottle from the supplies Sally had left. “Here, warm this; there’s hot water in the kitchen. Just set the bottle in a bowl and surround it with the water.”

  In her dry diaper, Anne Marie’s cries were no less frenzied. Jordan returned looking slightly unnerved. The room went from blustering cries to restful silence as soon as the bottle was placed in the baby’s mouth.

  Jordan sighed in relief and relaxed his lengthy frame in the chair.