by Laura Moore
“Oh. That’s okay.” He ignored the pang of disappointment.
“I could come over on Sunday, though I’d have to bring the kids with me. Max and Kate are very curious to see the house. Of course Max would be happiest if every single one of your crew was on site so he could watch them at work. He’s a bit tool-obsessed.”
Having her kids underfoot was not what he’d envisioned. Keeping in mind how much Jordan liked them, he crafted a carefully noncommittal response. “I may have to be in Alexandria on Sunday—”
But something about the amused smile that lit Jordan’s face had him adding, “But feel free to bring them over another time when Max can see the crew in action.” It’d be far better if there were lots of other people around to entertain them.
“Thanks. And I’ll use the weekend to brainstorm tiles and stone and cabinet styles for the kitchen and the bathrooms we’ve already been through.”
“Good,” he said with a nod. “I’ll have my interior design department fax me a list of the merchants and retailers with whom we have accounts and get you listed as a freelance contractor so you can place your orders directly. I’ll get my assistant to fax the employee forms for you, too.”
“That’d be great.”
They walked through the open front door. Spotting Jesse and Doug sitting on aluminum beach chairs and eating their lunch, Jordan waved good-bye, nodding at their calls of, “See ya later, Jordan.”
When they reached her car, Owen stepped forward. “Here, let me get that,” he said, opening the door for her.
“Thanks.”
Though he knew she had to leave in a few minutes to collect her kids, he found himself wanting to continue talking. “So your sisters and brother-in-law are competing in a horse show this weekend?”
“Yes, show season’s gearing up. Margot, Travis, and Jade are going to be busy proving beyond a doubt that Rosewood horses are still the ones to beat. Once school gets out, we’ll have Kate and Max entering in the short stirrup classes.”
She turned to stow her bag on the passenger seat and as she leaned over, the fabric of her printed floral dress smoothed over the supple contours of her buttocks, hips, and waist.
The dress was as seductive from the back as the front, he decided, though he had a niggling suspicion that Jordan could be wearing just about anything and he’d be thinking about those lovely curves and how they’d feel beneath his hands.
As she straightened and turned back to him, he made sure to keep the conversation going so she wouldn’t guess the direction of his thoughts. “And what about you?”
“Me?”
“Do you compete in horse shows, too?”
“Oh, yes, but not very often. I got out the habit of showing while I was married. Then last year things were kind of crazy.”
Owen supposed “crazy” was one way to describe what she’d gone through, with two members of her family dying and discovering that her husband was unfaithful. Though he was willing to admit to a growing curiosity about Jordan’s ex, he’d already blundered once by broaching the topic of her private life. Remembering Jordan’s pained expression when she realized he’d heard some of the gossip surrounding her divorce made him decide to skirt the topic.
“So you don’t live for the weekend horse shows the way most of Warburg does?”
She shook her head. “No, I far prefer the day-to-day routine of training the horses.” More at ease now, she smiled. “At this point I only show when it’s an ‘all hands on deck’ event, like the show at Crestview at the end of next month. Crestview’s a big draw for all the locals, so we try to have as many of our horses entered as possible. Luckily, we have some really nice green hunters who are being shown under saddle—that means on the flat—which is just about my speed these days. I’ll leave the jumping classes to the rest of my family. Jade and Margot are both great competitors, and Travis is simply amazing. He makes our horses look so good.”
“I got a sense of that yesterday.” He also remembered that she looked like a pretty good rider herself, cantering away into the woods on Sava’s back.
“Well, when they enter the show ring, they take it to a whole other level. You should go to the Crestview show.” She flushed as if she’d said something wildly forward and added, “That is if you’re around and if that sort of thing appeals to you—”
“I like equestrian events.”
“Oh! Well then.” In the silence that followed their glances met and held. “Well, I should be going,” she said, a touch of breathlessness in her voice.
He nodded, still looking into the deep blue wells of her eyes.
“Good-bye.”
“Good-bye.”
With a quick, shy smile she slipped behind the wheel of the minivan. Owen shut her door and stepped back as she started the engine.
He stood watching as she shifted the car into reverse and backed up. Braking suddenly, she stuck her head out the window. “By the way, I forgot to give you a message from my sisters. An invitation to dinner. Feel free to come any night.” Without waiting for a reply or letting him ask whether she, too, was extending the offer of a meal, Jordan turned and drove off.
Owen stood smiling with his hands shoved deep in his pockets as the criminally ugly minivan disappeared down the drive. When he considered the fact that only yesterday Jordan Radcliffe had dashed ice-cold tea in his face, having her smile at him and extend an invitation to dinner, even if it was initiated by her sisters, was definite progress. Now all he had to do was to keep his hands off her until she finally came to her senses and accepted what was clearly a case of mutual attraction.
THE ADULTS AT ROSEWOOD were up before dawn on Saturday, Jordan coming downstairs to fix Margot and Travis a thermos of coffee for the road and pack sandwiches, energy bars, and fruit for lunch. She made enough for Travis and Margot, as well as Felix and Tito, who were going as grooms for the four horses they were bringing to the Lexington show. Jade would hit the concession stand to gorge on fries, hot dogs, and cheeseburgers—her only opportunity to eat “normal” food as she liked to put it.
Jade came down last, wearing a pair of sweatpants over her breeches and a hoodie to protect her white ratcatcher. She made a beeline for the stool at the kitchen’s island and plunked down on it. Freshly showered, her hot pink mop was several shades darker than usual.
“Morning,” Jordan said, taking the orange juice out of the fridge and pouring a glass for her.
“Morning,” Jade mumbled. “What’s the weather forecast?” she asked before taking a sip.
“It’s supposed to stay clear.”
“Hot?”
“No, around seventy degrees.”
“That’s good. My sleeveless ratcatcher’s got a wicked stain on the front.”
Ketchup or hamburger grease, Jordan would guess, but she wisely kept her mouth shut about the probable cause. Five-thirty in the morning was not the time to enter into a discussion of Jade’s eating habits. “I think they’re still having a spring sale at Steadman’s. You could pick up a new one next week.” Jordan got Jade’s favorite cereal—Lucky Charms—out of the pantry and placed it in front of her.
“Not a great idea.” She grabbed the box of cereal and poured a small mountain of it into a bowl, splashed milk over it, and dug in.
“Why not?” she asked.
She munched in silence, then said, “ ’Cause if I go Adam Steadman will just send Brian over to help—as if I’m so clueless I can’t figure out my freakin’ size. Picking up my chaps was embarrassing enough.”
“What happened? Did he ask you out?”
Jade shrugged.
Which meant yes. “Brian seems like a really nice young man, Jade.”
Another shrug.
“Maybe you should consider it. It’s not like you wouldn’t have loads to talk about. Or you could go out as a group, with a bunch of frie—” Before the word was even out, Jade’s face went all tight and closed.
“Friends?” Jade finished for her sarcastically. “New
sflash, Jordan. Brian is, like, ultra popular because he’s a good rider, cute, and a senior. So here’s a pop quiz for you. Guess who’s in his set of friends and who would not hesitate to start talking about me and Mom in a real unfriendly way if she thought I was going after the guy she’s hot for?”
“I don’t think he’s the type to believe what Blair says. He’d see that they were lying about you, and just being cruelly vicious about Nicole.”
“Cruelly vicious but not necessarily lying about Mom?”
Never, ever again would she engage in a serious discussion at five thirty-nine A.M. with her razor-sharp, seventeen-year-old half-sister, she promised herself.
“Yes, lying,” she said, looking straight into the green eyes Jade had inherited from her mother, and wishing she’d never read a single damned page of Nicole’s diary. “You know how much your mom cared about Dad. Her life revolved around you and him. The airplane crash allowed the good citizens of Warburg to engage in their favorite activity: gossipmongering. Easy as pie to do when the deceased can’t defend themselves.” Realizing how bitter she sounded, she drew a deep breath. “Jade, the last thing Margot and I want is for you to spend your life worrying about what people like Blair Hood are callous enough to say. Be true to yourself.”
Jade’s expression was as inscrutable as a sphinx’s. “Yeah, whatever. Are any of those muffins left?”
Seizing on the change of topic like a lifeline, Jordan nodded energetically. “Yes, do you want me to heat it up while you get your things?”
“No, that’s okay. I’m going to eat it on the go.”
“You’re all packed and ready? Gloves? Boots? Riding jacket?”
“Check, check, check.”
“And you remembered hairnets—those new black ones Margot bought for you?” In an effort to camouflage Jade’s wild hair color, Margot had been forced to purchase a heavier-than-standard-weight black hairnet, as the lighter blond ones weren’t up to the task of hiding the dye job. Hunter judges were sticklers for a rider and horse’s turnout. Shocking pink hair, like unpolished field boots, a mount’s dirty white sock, or a sloppily braided mane, could very well detract from her and Aspen’s score.
“Ugh,” Jade said, rolling her eyes in disgust. “Yeah, they’re in my bag. Sunblock, too,” she said, preempting Jordan’s next question.
At the sound of the kitchen door opening, both sisters turned their heads. A second later, Ellie Banner stepped in from the mudroom, the slippers she liked to wear when cleaning the house in one hand, the Marc Jacobs satchel Margot had given her for Christmas in the other. “Good morning, girls.”
“Hi, Ellie,” Jordan said. “Thanks for coming in early.”
“Happy to.” She placed her handbag on the granite island and slipped her feet into a pair of sheepskin-lined moccasins. “Good luck today, Jade.”
“Thanks, Ellie. Did you happen to see the van in the courtyard as you drove up?”
“Yes, and the ramp’s down.”
“Gotta grab my stuff then,” Jade said. Shoving a last spoonful of cereal into her mouth, she hopped off the stool and ran up the back stairs.
“Bring down the stained ratcatcher while you’re at it,” Jordan called after her.
“Gotcha,” Jade bellowed from the top of the stairs.
The two women listened to the sound of her sprinting down the length of the hall. “I’d have to eat twenty bowls of Jade’s cereal to have that kind of energy,” Jordan said as she tore off a paper towel and wrapped the blueberry muffin in it for Jade to eat on the road.
“Mrs. Radcliffe had that same energy. She just didn’t know how to direct it in a positive way.”
“That’s an interesting way of looking at it, Ellie. I’m not sure I’ve ever thought of Nicole’s, uh, energy like that.” When her stepmother was alive, Jordan’s main objective was to deflect her barbs and accusations, and if that wasn’t possible, then at least to emerge relatively unscathed. To analyze their cause would have consumed too many precious hours, hours she had no desire to give to a woman who had never shown her or Margot a drop of affection. It was enough to understand that for some reason their stepmother regarded them as adversaries, rivals for her husband’s affection. More painful still was the knowledge that nothing they did would ever change Nicole’s attitude.
“It’d be easier for someone in my position to see Mrs. Radcliffe differently, now wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, I guess it would.” Unfortunately, she wasn’t going to avail herself of Ellie’s more objective view of Nicole by asking who might be the “TM” Nicole had written about in her diary with such excessive praise. Discussing Nicole’s private journal was too awkward, and felt too much like a betrayal. “How about a cup of coffee, Ellie?” she asked instead.
“That’d be lovely. Then I’ll start on the laundry.”
“Oh, by the way, that ratcatcher I asked Jade to bring down? She was telling me it has a stain on it. Would you mind soaking the shirt in a mild bleach solution?”
“If it’s Jade’s, the stain’s most likely chocolate or ketchup.”
Jordan smiled as she set a cup of coffee in front of their housekeeper and passed her the milk and sugar. “That’d be my guess, too.”
Ellie added milk and two teaspoons of sugar to her coffee and stirred. “I’ll give it a soaking but I can’t promise that anything will get out a stain that’s already set.” She took a sip of her coffee. “So are you off to the barn now?”
“Yes. After the van leaves I’m going to help Ned and Andy muck out and give a few horses a workout.”
Ellie nodded comfortably. “I’ll just put in this load of wash, then go up and dust the third floor so I can hear the little one when she wakes up.”
Jordan checked her watch. “You’ve got some time yet. Olivia is usually up by six-thirty, Kate and Max a little later. If you want, I can nip back up to the house once we’ve turned the horses out.”
“No need for that. Patrick’s going to be working in the garden. Once they’ve eaten and gotten dressed, they can help him pick flowers for the house and do some watering. They love that. By then Miriam should be here.”
Fully aware of how much more she could get done helping Ned and Andy if she didn’t have to run back up to the house, she said, “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“It’s no cakewalk raising three small children on your own. On top of that you’re starting a new business and pitching in with the horses. I’d say you deserve all the help you can get.”
Feeling self-conscious, Jordan lifted her shoulder in a light shrug. “I’m only able to do these things because I have all of you. It’s the women who tackle the demands of single parenthood and work all on their own who deserve our admiration.”
“True, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re also doing a really hard thing. Just because you’re a remarkably capable woman shouldn’t mean you have to do it all on your own.”
Jordan swallowed the painful lump in her throat as she recalled one of Richard’s complaints. He’d accused her of being so self-sufficient that he felt unneeded, and that in turn had justified his affair with Cynthia—Cynthia had needed him. She wondered why Richard hadn’t cared enough to perceive what Ellie seemed to understand so easily. The pounding of feet on the stairs saved her from replying.
Jade dropped from the last step with a thud, her boot and gear bag slung over her shoulder, the stained white ratcatcher balled in her hand.
Jordan straightened. “You set?”
“Yes, indeedy. Here you go, Ellie.” She put the shirt on the counter.
Ellie flattened it and frowned at the large brown splotch. “I have a piece of advice for you at the show today, Jade.”
“Count my strides on the hunt course with Gypsy Queen? Keep Aspen rounded at the canter and away from Annie Prout’s mare, Tattoo, who’s got a mean streak a mile wide and Annie’s not strong enough to handle her?”
“Seeing how you already know all of the above, that wou
ld hardly constitute advice, now would it? This, however, might be useful. Stay away from condiments.”
As Ellie had reported, the horse van was already parked at the open end of the gravel courtyard that lay in the center of the three horse barns, its loading ramp lowered in readiness.
Outside the main barn, Tito and Felix were setting down the four bulging hay nets that would go in the van once the horses had been loaded into its stalls.
Spotting them, Jade hollered, “Top of the morning to you, guys,” as she veered off toward the side door of the van, where the tack and tack boxes were stored, to stow her own gear.
Jordan approached with a “Good morning” and “Looks like it’ll be good weather for you today” to Tito and Felix as she passed through the barn’s double doors.
The barn was filled with the sounds of oats being munched, rubber feed tubs banging against the wooden stalls, and the rustling of hay as the horses finished their breakfasts. Down the center aisle Gypsy Queen, Saxon, and Sweet William stood in a line, their fleece-covered leather halters attached to the cross ties. As she walked toward the black mare, Travis looked up from where he was kneeling beside her hind leg, his hands circling the white quilted cotton wraps with a dark blue bandage, passing the roll back and forth between his hands. Gypsy Queen’s other legs were already wrapped to protect her from injury during the drive to the show grounds.
“Jade with you?” he asked.
“Yes, she’s putting her gear in the van.”
“Good. Aspen’s probably finished his grain by now. He needs to be wrapped.”
“I’ll go bring him out,” she volunteered. “The bandages are by his stall?”
“Yeah. His summer sheet’s hanging on his door. Had to take it off to shake the shavings out.”
“He lay down last night? Did he get any shavings in his braids?”
Finished wrapping the mare’s leg, Travis stood. “Yup. Rubbed them pretty bad.”
“Who rubbed what?” Jade asked, coming up to them. “Hey, Gypsy,” she said, patting the mare.