by Lori Foster
Georgia’s eyes softened to pewter. “Thank you. That’s very generous of you.”
“You might want to share that number with the children, too, so that if anything like this happens again, they can give me a call if you’re at work.”
She nodded as she tucked the card securely into her bag. “They have my number at the bar, but Bill doesn’t always answer the phone at night during the show. We’ve argued over that several times.”
“I understand.” Sawyer glanced at Jordan. “Perhaps a pager would be good?”
Jordan saw the guilt flash across Georgia’s face and knew she couldn’t afford one. He spoke quickly. “Gabe, don’t you have an extra pager you’re not using anymore?”
Gabe looked dumbfounded for only a second, then nodded. “Oh, yeah. Right.” And with a grin: “Hey, it’s even paid up for the next six months.”
Georgia was already shaking her head, but Gabe slung an arm around her, which caused her to still immediately. “I insist. That’s what friends are for.”
She might have protested further, once she regained use of her tongue, but Sawyer chose that auspicious moment to tell Jordan, “Her mother wants to see you.”
“Me?”
“Yep. She was rather insistent on it.”
Georgia groaned. “Oh, God. She’s so overprotective….”
Jordan peered at the closed door with deep reservation. He hoped like hell this wasn’t the familial interrogation. At thirty-three, he was so rusty he had no idea if he’d know how to answer or not. Especially considering he hadn’t yet figured out what he felt for Georgia. Lust certainly, and compassion. But if there was more…
Georgia started to follow him in, but Sawyer gently caught her arm. “She specified that she wanted to see Jordan, and only Jordan.”
Jordan groaned in dread, mustered his manly courage and headed in. He wasn’t a damn coward. He could face one disgruntled mother, with or without all his thoughts in order. But when he peeked around the curtain to the bed, he found Ruth Samson half-sitting up, very clear-headed, and more than a little disgruntled.
Good heavens, the woman looked as ferocious as Morgan on his most intimidating days.
* * *
“MS. SAMSON?”
Her eyes, the same blue gray as her daughter’s, locked onto him and without preamble she stated, “My daughter has whisker burns this morning.”
Jordan gulped, and before he could stop himself he ran a hand over his now smooth-shaven jaw. Deciding to brazen it out, he said, “I only kissed her.”
“Must have been one heck of a kiss.” Ruth looked nothing like the frail, ill woman of yesterday. In truth, she appeared ready to get out of bed and whup Jordan’s backside. “Georgia couldn’t quite look at me without blushing.”
Against his better judgment, Jordan grinned. “Georgia does seem prone to a pretty blush now and then.”
Ruth sighed, and all the vinegar seemed to leave her from one second to the next. “It’s incredible, but regardless of all she’s been through, she’s still so sweet. Not that I want her to toughen up. She’s a wonderful daughter and a wonderful mother to my grandchildren.” Once she said it, Ruth glared, daring him to disagree.
Jordan nodded. “She amazes me, if you want the truth.”
“Yes. She’s amazing.” Her eyes sharpened and she asked, “Exactly how much do you know about my daughter?”
“Very little. I only just minutes ago found out she’s a mere twenty-three.”
“That bothers you? Well it shouldn’t. Georgia is very mature for her years.”
Jordan had no idea how to reply to that. “I also know that she works in a pretty disreputable bar.”
Ruth laughed. “And of course, you don’t approve?”
Jordan matched her stare without hesitation. “No, not at all.”
“Good.” She nodded in satisfaction. “Neither do I. But she has few choices.”
“Georgia mentioned that to me.”
Ruth looked surprised. “She did? That’s interesting. She usually won’t give a man the time of day. And believe me, plenty of them are after her.”
Jordan ground his teeth together. “I believe it.”
“I can tell there’s still a lot you don’t know. Pull up a chair and I’ll fill you in. But we better be quick because if I know my daughter, we maybe have about two minutes more before she barges back in.”
Jordan obediently pulled up a chair. He was anxious to learn more about Georgia, to find out how she’d ended up in these circumstances. She and her mother both felt she had few options, but Jordan intended to give her several, and they all had to do with her staying off that damn stage.
Ruth’s first burst of indignant anger had faded and had left her looking decidedly limp. She was now pale, her hands shaking. Jordan reminded himself that the woman had been extremely ill only the night before, and that he had to make certain she didn’t overdo. He had the feeling she’d push herself, given half a chance, to defend her daughter. Against him.
“Ms. Samson,” he said, hoping to reassure her, “you don’t have to worry about me being with Georgia. I only want to help.”
She sighed wearily, then started in coughing. Jordan was ready to call for a nurse when she waved him back into his seat.
She had to use her oxygen for a moment, taking slow shallow breaths, and afterward she took quite a bit of time resettling her blankets around her. Finally she said, “I seriously doubt Georgia wants your help.”
“Well, no, she doesn’t.”
“But you’re insisting?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She nodded, apparently pleased by that. “Georgia got pregnant when she was only sixteen.”
Since he’d already done the math, Jordan didn’t show a single sign of surprise.
“My husband was an old-fashioned man. A sour, un-demonstrative man who never really understood Georgia. We had her late in life. I was nearly forty, and my husband was eleven years my senior. We’d thought we were past the stage of having children. So she took us both by surprise.”
“A pleasant surprise?”
“Oh, surely. But adjusting wasn’t easy. Avery was set in his ways, and part of those ways was being miserly to the point of wanting Georgia to wear secondhand clothes, and insisting we drive our old Buick forever, and that we make do with one old black-and-white television. It had never mattered much to me. But I hated seeing Georgia do without. She didn’t fit in with the other kids because of how we lived, and it wasn’t even necessary. We could have afforded better for her, but I’d always been a housewife, and Avery had always controlled the money.”
Jordan nodded. “I understand.” And he did. He knew plenty of older women like Ruth, women who’d been raised to believe that wives were meant to stay at home, to cater to their husbands. He could only imagine how a child thrown into the mix might have complicated things.
“Well, I don’t. I could have done more. And I could have done it sooner.” Ruth looked past Jordan’s shoulder, her eyes so sad. “We argued endlessly over Georgia, which was probably harder for her than the divorce. I was a coward, and the idea of being on my own was terrifying. But I finally did it. I should have left him years earlier, but I kept thinking that I needed to keep our home intact. I didn’t want Georgia to have to start over in a new school system just because I couldn’t afford the area anymore. Then, when she started dating Dennis Peach I wished like crazy that I had moved.”
“She got pregnant?”
“Yes. Dennis was every young girl’s dream. He was good-looking, athletic, nice. He took her to all the dances and the parties, places she hadn’t been before. Georgia went head over heels in love with him almost overnight.
“We were still hashing out the divorce when Georgia eloped. I couldn’t believe it. But to give her her due, she made things work for awhile there.”
Jordan imagined that Georgia had enough sheer will and determination to make anything work when she put her mind to it. He thought about her
at that age, so young, so innocent. At sixteen, he’d been into more mischief than his mother ever guessed, but he’d been careful, with himself and the girls he’d been with.
He resolved to have another talk with Casey real soon. It wouldn’t hurt to drive the point home one more time.
“Dennis wasn’t too bad,” Ruth said. “They lived like paupers, but then Georgia was used to that. And she seemed so happy, especially after Lisa was born. My gosh, she adored that baby. She took to mothering as natural as could be.”
Jordan didn’t want to hear about how happy she’d been with her husband. He was glad the man was long gone from the picture. “So what happened?”
“Her in-laws happened. They made life as tough for Georgia as they could. While she was willing to make sacrifices for the marriage, Dennis wasn’t used to living without. They coddled him something awful, and ignored Lisa—even to the point of questioning whether or not she was his. I tried to help out as much as I could, but I was dealing with the issue of my divorce and somehow Georgia ended up helping me.”
Ruth looked so wretched over that admission, Jordan reached out patted her hand. “Your daughter loves you very much.”
“I know.” She spoke barely above a whisper. “My husband had always smoked and right after the divorce I started getting sick. I tried to find a job, but I had no experience and I’d get winded so easy. More so than most people, I’m prone to getting bronchitis and even pneumonia. That’s when they found out how bad my lungs are. Only by then, I didn’t have any health insurance because I’d been covered under my husband’s policy. I was so, so stupid not to think of that.”
Jordan wondered if Georgia was paying for insurance for her mother. He frowned with the thought, mentally adding up all her responsibilities.
“I was a burden to my daughter at a time when she needed me most.”
“No.” Jordan shook his head, knowing exactly what Georgia would have to say about that. “That’s not true. Family helps family. Period. She was there for you, just as you’re here for her now. She’s told me several times how much you contribute.”
Ruth tilted her head. “You sound like a man with a close family.”
“Yes. Like you, my mother is divorced.” His mother, however, had always been one of the strongest, most independent women he knew. Of course, she’d had a fabulous first husband who’d shown her exactly what marriage should be. And that had thankfully gotten her through her marriage to Jordan’s father.
Jordan forced a smile for Ruth’s benefit. “She’s also happily remarried. Through it all, we’ve stayed a very close family.”
“I like you, Jordan.”
She said that as if he’d passed a test. “I like you, too.”
“And you like my daughter?”
When he hesitated, not quite sure how she meant it and afraid of committing himself to her, she laughed. “That’s all right. I didn’t mean to pressure you. But I will tell you that it’s not going to be easy.”
“I already figured that out.”
She laughed again. “The end of this long tale is that shortly after Georgia got pregnant with Adam—an accident, and a blessing from God—Dennis’s parents convinced him that he was overburdened, that Georgia had gotten pregnant on purpose just to chain him down.” Under her breath she muttered, “As if a broken condom was her fault.”
That was definitely not an image Jordan wanted haunting his brain. He frowned.
“Dennis had always been pampered, and as their bills started to pile up and things got tougher and tougher, he got more and more distant, more willing to run home to his parents. And unfortunately, more willing to run up additional bills. Their combined incomes just weren’t enough, and one day he went home to his folks and never came back.”
Jordan nodded in satisfaction. “So she divorced him?”
“Yes. Georgia was really hurt. She loved him and yet he just walked away. She agreed to a peaceful divorce, and allowed the courts to divide the bills down the middle even though many of them had been his recent purchases. She wanted to make the transition as easy on the children as she could. But the really sad part is that Dennis agreed to it all, wished Georgia well, then stole several thousand dollars from his parents and took off. Not only did he not pay his half of the bills, he’s never paid a dime of child support.”
“He doesn’t see the kids?”
“No. No one’s heard from him since he left. His parents blamed Georgia, and added to her burden—until I told them I’d have the police after their precious son for skipping out on his responsibilities.”
She looked downright feral again, and Jordan nodded. “Good for you.”
“No, it was an error in judgment. His parents apologized and promised to pay Dennis’s share of things. Georgia argued with them. They were Dennis’s bills, not his parents. But they insisted, and she believed them. She…trusted them. In the end, they were only biding their time until they could petition the court for custody of Adam and Lisa. They even tried to accuse Georgia of being an unfit mother.”
Rage churned forth in Jordan, taking him by surprise. In a voice of icy rage, he said, “They obviously failed in their efforts.”
“Yes. But not without a lot of cost and heartache to my daughter. And they didn’t give up. They dogged her steps everywhere she went, making her lose jobs, constantly posing a threat to her peace of mind. Not once have they ever shown genuine concern or caring for the children. The few times they visited them, they tried to fill their heads with poison, bad-mouthing Georgia while making Dennis sound like a saint that she’d run off. Can you imagine? Their own blood kin, yet all they’re interested in is using the kids to try to hurt Georgia.”
“They’re beautiful children,” Jordan said with sincerity. He’d been surprised at how much he’d enjoyed making pancakes with them that morning. Lisa and Adam were lively and bright and polite. “She’s done a good job with them.”
“Yes, she has. And she’d die before letting anyone hurt those kids. So finally we thought it was best to simply move away. It makes me so mad, I want to spit.”
Jordan could easily see where Georgia got her backbone. He patted Ruth’s hand and tried to calm her. “Don’t get yourself all riled up. You’ll get winded again and the doctors will throw me out.” He smiled. “Besides, Georgia is here now, away from them, and the kids seem very happy. I wish she hadn’t gone through so much, but all in all, I admit I’m pleased with the outcome.”
“Moving here was a blessing,” Ruth agreed. “And you know, it was my ex-husband who made it possible.”
Jordan raised a brow. He hoped the man had somehow redeemed himself, had supported his daughter and her decisions—mistakes included—after all. “How’s that?”
“He died.”
Not the happy ending he’d been looking for. Jordan sighed, wishing Georgia had been able to resolve things with her father before his death, but he had the feeling even that had been denied her.
“He hadn’t ever gotten around to changing his will. He had money that he’d hidden during our divorce. It all came to me. Not that there was a fortune or anything. But it was enough to finance the move and put a down payment on the house. I just hate seeing Georgia work so hard to keep it all together.”
“I intend to help her with that.”
Ruth shook her head. “She won’t like it. Everyone she’s ever relied on has let her down. Her father, her husband, her in-laws. She’s determined to be totally independent this time.”
“You never turned your back on her.”
“No, but I made some awful mistakes.”
Jordan pushed to his feet, anxious to see Georgia again now that he had a better understanding of her. “Making mistakes is the name of game. We’re human, so it happens. Trying to atone for mistakes is what makes you a mother.”
She grinned at that. “True. So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“One thing, Jordan, before you leave.”
/> “Yes?” He turned to face her.
“If you think there’s any chance at all you might hurt her, it’d be better if you walked away right now.”
Jordan stared down at his feet. He didn’t want to hurt her. Ever. But even more than that, he didn’t want to walk away. He wanted to gather her closer, much closer. He wanted to bind her to him in some undeniable way.
He made plans for the coming weeks, how he’d ingratiate not only himself, but his best selling tool—his family. They were irresistible, and once Georgia got comfortable sharing with them, relying on them and letting them rely on her, she’d soften. She had to.
Jordan shook his head. No doubt about it, he was in over his head. But damned if he wasn’t starting to like it.
8
WITH AN OUTRAGED and appalled gasp, Georgia slapped the stage curtain back into place. “Damn him!” Her heart felt lodged in her throat, and with a lot of trepidation, she looked down at her costume.
“Oh, God.” It looked worse than she’d first thought, given that Jordan was about to see her in it. Again she pulled the curtain aside and peeked out. But Jordan was still there, sitting at a front-row table as had become his preference, scowling at every other man in the room. He resembled a dog guarding a bone.
What in the world was wrong with him? She should have been able to ignore him, and in fact, when he’d first shown up as part of the audience, she hadn’t even realized he was there until she’d almost finished. She made it a point not to look at the men in the audience; it was the only way she could get through putting herself on display that way. But she’d felt something different that night, something that had affected her deep inside. Against her will her gaze had sought out the source of her discomfort—and clashed with Jordan’s hot green stare.
She’d missed a step and nearly fallen on her face. He’d looked as menacing as Morgan ever had. Of course, now that she knew Morgan better, she knew most of his dark countenance was bluster. Not so with Jordan. His brothers insisted on telling her—in private little whispers-that Jordan was the most even tempered one, the pacifist, the gentlest of men. Ha! Twice now, he’d almost started another fight.