The place was looking good. Claire had shared with him that some of their neighbors had put a sign-up sheet in the Hilltop Café so that people could volunteer to help out around the farm while the kids were sick. One grandpa even helped the older kids with their homework so that Claire could focus on Sweetness, and he liked it so much that he was going to come back every week to tutor.
Ash understood. These kids—and their foster parents—had a way of getting under your skin.
Jordan was in the ring with a client. Ash took the steps down and crossed the yard, intending to watch from the rails, and then realized the little boy on the small horse was Levi. Jordan looked up at Levi, her lips moving. The three-year-old smiled and waved at Ash.
Something in his eye pricked suspiciously like tears but he blinked them back. Levi had come so far from the terrified child they had found at the hospital the first night. Like Jordan, Ash had worried a little that a new hospital stay would set the toddler back, but instead it seemed to have cemented the bond among them all.
Jordan let Levi slide off the horse and into her arms. The volunteer working with her tied Hagrid off at the post where they did the grooming.
Ash leaned his elbows on the fence. “I need to talk to you.”
“That sounds ominous.” She walked closer to the fence.
Before he could speak again, Kiera, one of their teenagers, called out. “Hey, Aunt J, Mrs. Matthews is letting us decorate some cookies. We want Levi to come and help.”
“Of course. Want cookies, Levi?”
He grinned and patted her cheek. “Cookie.”
“Guess that’s a yes.” She passed him over the fence into Kiera’s arms. “I’ll be over in a little while to get him.”
Ash watched the teenager, who had a baby of her own, bounce toward the house with a giggling Levi. “They’re giving him a family.”
“Yes, they are.” Jordan grinned. “I’m glad you can see that. It was one of the things that Claire and I wanted so badly—for the kids who came to live here to know they were wanted and loved and part of something. They’re not just a paycheck and this is not just a way station. It’s a real home.”
“There’s no question you’ve achieved that.”
Jordan disappeared into the barn and came out the door with a couple of canned drinks. “Join me on the swing?”
They settled into the swing, which was attached to a branch of a giant oak tree. He cracked open his drink and took a swig. “So have you thought about making it permanent with Levi?”
“Permanent...family, you mean?”
“Yes. Adoption.”
She didn’t answer, just stared into the distance, where a couple of the kids, the twins probably, had found a mud puddle and were taking turns jumping in it.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. You don’t have to answer that.”
“I don’t think about it. It would be easy to, because he doesn’t visit with any family, but I don’t.” She shook her head and her eyes filled, even though a small smile lifted the corners of her lips. “That’s not true. It’s what I want to be true. I want to be a team player, but I think about it all the time, mainly because he is getting attached and the idea of putting him through another separation and adjustment, or worse, putting him in a dangerous situation, nearly kills me.”
He linked their fingers. “You’re stunning, you know.”
“What? No.”
“You’re willing to sacrifice your own peace of mind so that Levi can know what a real home, a real mother, is like.” That bravery and strength Jordan exuded wasn’t an act; it was a part of her, one he admired so much.
“It’s not a sacrifice. Getting to love him is a gift, no matter how it ends. You do it, too, you know. Maybe in a different way, but you sacrifice your peace of mind every time you begin to care for one of your patients.”
“I don’t see that it’s the same, at all, but thank you. Now, about the horseback riding,” he began.
She shot him a warning look. “I got approval from the specialist. It won’t damage his spine and it might help as the muscles in his core get stronger and support the spine better.”
Ash sighed, a long, drawn out, patient sigh. “Are you finished?”
She cut her eyes at him. “Maybe. I’m not sure until you say whatever it is you’re going to say next.”
“I was just about to say that now that he’s on horseback, maybe we need to get him a gait trainer, like a walker for kids with special needs. It might be the next logical step toward getting him on his feet.”
Jordan grabbed his face and planted a kiss on his lips, then looked away, her fair skin flushing bright red. “You’re the best. I’ll talk to the physiologist next time we see him.”
The screen door on Claire’s back porch slammed open. “Aunt J! Levi wants you to see his cookies.”
“Time to get my sugared-up kid home for a bath. See you later?”
“Thursday night is the fund-raiser.”
Jordan turned back. “I haven’t forgotten, if you still want me to go with you.”
“Just try to get out of it.”
She left him swinging under the oak tree, as the sun started to sink in the sky, wondering how in the world she always managed to wrap him in knots.
Chapter Ten
The midnight blue silk looked ridiculous hanging in her closet next to her flannel shirts. Jordan stood in her robe in front of her closet and wished, for the thousandth time, that she hadn’t said yes to Ash’s request. Ash’s sister Wynn had been recruited to help Jordan get ready. In her flowy tunic, cropped leggings and flats, she looked more chic than Jordan had ever looked in her life. Unlike Jordan’s frizzy curls, Wynn’s straight blond hair wouldn’t dare be out of place. “What are you doing? We’re behind schedule. Come on, it’s hair and makeup time.”
Jordan followed her into the front room. “You really don’t have to do this. The dress is enough.”
“Sit.”
Jordan sat. And felt like an idiot. “I ride horses. I shovel horse manure. I don’t go to black-tie events. What was he thinking?”
Wynn’s hand stilled in her hair and picked back up again. “Maybe he was thinking that he likes you and wants to spend time with you.”
Jordan’s stomach was so jittery, she felt like she could throw up at any minute. “We’re just friends.”
“I know. Don’t move. I don’t want to burn you with this thing.” Wynn worked with a flat iron to smooth all of the unruly curls in Jordan’s hair.
“He’s not my type. He wore loafers in the barn to muck out a stall.” She looked up at Wynn. “Loafers.”
Wynn’s eyebrows drew up in a quizzical V. “Are you trying to convince yourself or me?”
“I don’t know.” And that was the truth. Ash had turned out to be so much more than she thought he was in the beginning.
Their lifestyle was light-years apart. But he was in the barn in loafers because he wanted to help her, even though horses weren’t his favorite thing.
Wynn twisted Jordan’s mass of red hair into a low knot and used about a million pins to secure it. Digging around in her bag, she came up with a rhinestone clip and slid it into place just behind Jordan’s ear. Jordan squirmed.
Wynn rapped her on the shoulder. “I said don’t move. I have to spray it.”
“You’re so bossy. I want to see.”
“Not yet. we’re going to do your makeup first.”
Jordan blinked. “I wasn’t really planning on makeup.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Wynn murmured, a couple of makeup brushes clamped between her teeth.
Ash’s sister brushed and dabbed, using pots and compacts and stuff Jordan had never heard of. “Are all those products really necessary?”
“Yes, your skin looks like porcelain. E
very girl there is going to be jealous.”
People were going to be looking at her skin? Once again, her nervous stomach threatened revolt. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
Wynn laughed, tapped some blush off the brush and applied it to the apples of Jordan’s cheeks. “Stop whining. In DC I used to go to a couple of these things a week. It’s for a good cause, so buck up.”
Desperate to direct the conversation away from her complexion, Jordan asked, “Did you always want to live in Washington, DC?”
When she answered, Wynn’s voice was soft. “I used to think I could make a difference. I wanted to work for the people. Now close your eyes.”
Obediently, Jordan closed them. “And you came home because...?”
Silence.
Jordan opened her eyes again. “If it’s none of my business, just tell me to shut up.”
Wynn didn’t tell her to shut up. She just looked sad, her beautiful Sheehan-blue eyes dark with misery. “Mostly I realized how naive I was. I set out to change the world and I think the only thing that changed was me. Okay! We’re done and it only took twenty minutes.”
Jordan grinned. “That’s only about nineteen minutes longer than my usual beauty routine. I want to see.”
Wynn smiled. “Dress first.”
The dress Wynn had brought over for her was a body-hugging column of blue silk. Wynn zipped her into it and took a step back. “You look amazing. One more thing.” Wynn reached into her bag and pulled out an enormous diamond on a thin platinum chain.
Jordan goggled. “I can’t borrow that.”
“Please. It would make me very happy for you to wear it.”
When Jordan looked into the mirror, she didn’t recognize herself. Her eyes looked enormous, her lips a pale natural pink that somehow looked like a luscious pout. “Whoa, you’re a magician.”
Wynn laughed. “You gave me a lot to work with. Next time we’re doing your eyebrows.”
Jordan’s hands shot up to cover her brows. “What do you mean, do them? It’s going to be painful, isn’t it?”
Wynn laughed. “Yes.”
A car door slammed outside and Jordan’s chest quivered, nerves back in full force. “He’s here.”
“I’ll check on Levi and make sure he’s got everything he needs to spend the night at the big house.” Wynn turned back at the door. “Jordan, please have fun. You deserve it.”
As the door closed behind Wynn, Jordan tried to pace and almost ended up in a heap on the floor. How did people walk in these stilts?
Ash knocked. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this.
She opened the door and her knees went weak. He was in a slim black tuxedo and, on his arm, a dozen yellow roses.
She was the hay girl, the barn chick, a tomboy if there ever was one. No one had ever brought her flowers before. She never knew she wanted them to.
His slightly stunned expression brought a laugh bubbling to the surface. She blinked back the tears that would ruin her mascara. No way in the world she was letting that happen.
* * *
The room was small, smaller than Jordan had expected, decorated with life-size artificial trees twinkling with fairy lights. Each table had a crisp white cloth and a towering arrangement of white roses.
Ash’s hand skimmed the small of her back. “This group has been getting together for this event for more than a hundred years. It’s one of the oldest civic groups in the nation. It’s made up of some of the most influential movers and shakers in the region. Every year they choose a handful of nonprofits to highlight. This dinner is to recognize the finalists and the one they’ve chosen to support this year. It’s a huge honor.”
They were seated at a table near the front of the room. One of the other couples at the table happened to be the parents of one of Jordan’s favorite clients. She knew Audrey and Nic Caravelo as parents and enjoyed getting to know them on a more personal level. Audrey was a talented photographer and Nic had a wicked sense of humor that almost made her forget where she was and how nervous she was.
Ash, however, wouldn’t let her forget. His talented doctor fingers were seemingly everywhere—her bare shoulder, her neck, offering her a taste of his steak, which by itself was almost enough to make her willingly return to another of these fancy soirees.
When the waitstaff had cleared the dinner dishes and placed decadent plates of chocolate mousse cake at each place, an elderly gentleman stepped to the podium. “I’m Edgar Rochester. As most of you know, my grandfather started this organization over a hundred years ago. He spent his life amassing a fortune and by the end of it, he wanted to share that fortune with the people who had spent their lives making other people’s lives better.”
The giant screen over the podium began flashing photographs of the nonprofits being honored tonight. Her heart touched, Jordan sat there with a lump in her throat as she watched. She knew the kind of work that went into a successful nonprofit. There was one dedicated to creating handicap-friendly playgrounds and one supporting retired working dogs. The next two were both organizations that worked with the homeless population and then...a picture of her flashed on the screen.
She gulped. She hadn’t known it was being taken but that wasn’t unusual. Parents loved to have photos of their kids on horseback. But her picture was there, on the screen, not sitting in one of her clients’ living rooms on the end table. She whirled on Ash. “What is this?”
He held both hands up, but a huge grin covered his face. “I didn’t do it.”
“I did,” Audrey said.
Jordan was so confused, color rushing to her face, her heart beating double-time. “I don’t understand.”
“You will.” Audrey patted her hand as Edgar Rochester’s voice boomed from the speakers.
“Each of our honorees will be receiving ten thousand dollars to use in their organizations, and the winner of the Rochester Award will be granted an additional fifty-thousand-dollar grant. And now I’d like to call Audrey Caravelo to introduce our Rochester Award winner.”
Jordan’s stomach tilted, that fancy meal sitting like lead. She forgot to breathe.
Audrey made her way to the podium, dark eyes and sleek black hair offset by the pale pink of her dress. “I’d like to start by telling you a story about a little boy...”
By the time Audrey finished the story about her son’s struggle with autism, half the room was in tears, including Jordan. Her mascara was a mess.
A new picture flashed on screen—this one of Audrey’s son, Evan, on Jordan’s horse, Leo, with a huge smile on his face. Audrey smiled, too, but her eyes swam with tears. “Jordan Conley, you and your horses work wonders. I never thought I would hear Evan say my name or tell me he loves me or even ask for a drink of water, but he does all those things because you and Leo unlocked it for him. You gave him confidence and you helped his overloaded system begin to work together. I can’t thank you enough for the change you have brought to my son.”
She looked around the room. “It is my distinct pleasure to announce this year’s Rochester Award Winner, Jordan Conley, from Horses, Hope and Healing.”
As Jordan stood, she was absolutely stunned that the applause continued as one after the other of those in attendance got to their feet. She managed the walk to the podium only by deliberately placing one foot in front of the other.
Swiping at tears, praying she didn’t have raccoon eyes, she stopped in front of the room, shifting awkwardly in the borrowed high heels.
Audrey caught her in a tight hug and whispered in her ear, “You deserve this.”
* * *
The award was a small tasteful crystal bowl. It shot points of fire from the lights trained on the podium as Jordan held it in her hands. The crystal was beautiful but it paled in comparison to Jordan.
She was abso
lutely radiant.
Ash was thunderstruck.
On a normal day, Jordan had a certain fresh-faced beauty, made all the more powerful because she was so completely unaware of it. Tonight he had trouble forming words.
She smiled, looking out at the small crowd. “I never imagined when I agreed to come to a boring fund-raiser that it could be so exciting and overwhelming. And I truly never imagined that you would honor me in such a generous way. From the time I was a teenager, I dreamed about using horses to help kids who struggled in traditional therapy. I’m so excited for what the future holds for Triple H and incredibly grateful that you chose my organization to honor tonight. Thank you so much.”
She shook the hand of the elderly Mr. Rochester and made her way back to the seat beside Ash. Her perfume, something exotic he’d never noticed before, wound around him. He was so proud of her and humbled to be able to be a part—albeit a small part—of her life and mission.
After the other honorees were introduced, the evening was adjourned. She spent another half hour accepting congratulations. Ash spoke to a few people, but after a few minutes eased away from the crowd around Jordan.
He was used to seeing her in her work clothes. Braids and flannel looked good on her. But tonight, watching her as she circled the room, making sure to speak to everyone, she was staggeringly beautiful.
It wasn’t the hair or makeup or dress, either, although those things were fine. It was her courage, her passion, her heart, that shone out of her.
When the group of people finally thinned, she looked around for him. He knew when she saw him. Her eyes locked with his and a slow smile spread across her face. She walked toward him. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself. You ready to get out of here?”
“So ready. These shoes are killing me.”
He laughed and offered his arm.
In minutes, she was in the passenger seat of his cushy black car and they drove away from the lights and the people. He glanced over at her. “Are you tired?”
A Baby for the Doctor Page 10