by Judith Yates
“Jordan!”
Her giggles filled the air as she darted away from Gracie. Clutching a floppy stuffed rabbit in her arms, she rushed up to him, oblivious to her baby-sitter’s warnings to look both ways.
“Whoa there.” Jordan caught her by the shoulders before she ran right into him. Gazing into her dancing brown eyes, he was struck again by how much she looked like Holly.
“You came back!” Her voice was full of glee. “The parade’s today.”
Fast on the kid’s heels, Gracie snapped out her name.
“Uh-oh,” Stephanie exclaimed, her eyes wide.
“Uh-oh is right, kid,” he replied as the grim-faced baby-sitter approached. “Looks like you’ve gotten us both in trouble.”
Ignoring Jordan, the woman scolded Stephanie for running out into the road. The child stared down at her rubber-toed sneakers until Gracie finished reprimanding her. Then she lifted her bright face. “Look, Gracie. Jordan’s here.”
“Hi, Gracie,” he said, offering her a smile.
She acknowledged him with a cool nod.
“Now, child, where’s your mother?” she continued as if he weren’t there. “We’ve got to find a good spot for watching the parade.”
Holly emerged from the shop, carrying a folding chair in one hand. “Are you coming to the parade with us, Jordan?”
Stephanie grabbed his hand before he had a chance to answer. “You hafta come, Jordan.”
She tugged his arm until he fell in step behind Holly and Gracie as they headed toward the town common. The kid’s pudgy palm was so soft and her stubby fingers felt so small in his hand. Jordan was sure he’d never felt anything like it.
Still, he hadn’t a clue why the kid had latched onto him like a long-lost buddy. Maybe it was because she lacked a male presence in her life—other than Dr. Gabe, of course. And if Gabe Sawyer did show up now, who was to say Stephanie wouldn’t dash off to him?
Jordan caught himself. Why was he even worrying about it?
The number of people drifting onto the common from all directions surprised him. Crowds in Golden was an oxymoron in his mind. This Memorial Day festivity was probably one of the town’s social highlights of the year—one of the few things to actually do here. No wonder people were pouring out from the woods. Young parents pushed strollers and chased after runaway toddlers. Long-haired teenaged girls hung together, watching shaggy-headed teenaged boys lounging on the hoods of their cars, watching them. The more senior residents relaxed on folding lawn chairs, chatting among themselves. Jordan even recognized the old guys from his stop at the general store the last time he’d been in town.
“This looks like a good spot,” Holly announced when they reached a clear area directly across from the Congregational Church. She positioned the folding chair for Gracie and then sat on the curb, her knees curled up beneath her billowy skirt. Stephanie plopped down next to her mother as Holly gestured to the curb. “Have a seat, Jordan.”
No sooner had he lowered himself onto the curb than the steady beat of a marching drum echoed from afar.
Stephanie hopped to her feet in excitement. “I hear it, Mommy! I hear it!”
The kid remained standing, nestled between him and Holly, her thin little arms curved around both their shoulders. “I see them now,” she chanted. “See the flags! Here they come.”
Jordan peered down the main road. A color guard of four aging veterans in snug-fitting, faded military uniforms led the way. Next followed what had to be the high-school band, playing a reedy-sounding “Stars and Stripes Forever.” On the heels of the band came more service veterans, some in uniform, some not.
“Mommy, look!” Stephanie tugged on Holly’s arm and pointed to the classic red convertible trailing behind the marching veterans. “Look! Dr. Gabe.”
Jordan glanced over his right shoulder. Dark-haired Gabe Sawyer sat at the wheel of the gleaming old car. Two men rode with him, and all three waved to the crowd as they passed by. Plastered across the front hood of the car was a banner identifying the three men as the board of selectmen. As if anyone in this town didn’t already know, Jordan thought dryly.
“Hey, Gabe!” Holly called out, waving and laughing.
Stephanie and Gracie joined the chorus until Dr. Gabe located them in the crowd. Jordan couldn’t miss the broad smile Gabe aimed at Holly before waving back to Stephanie.
“Here you go, Steph!” With a toss of Gabe’s arm, a half dozen or more pieces of brightly wrapped candies flew across the road, landing right at Stephanie’s feet.
In the blink of an eye, the kid scooped up the candy in her hands. “Mommy, Dr. Gabe threw me candy! Gracie, look at all the candy Dr. Gabe threw at me!”
As the two women oohed and aahed with the thrilled child, Jordan felt an inexplicable irritation jabbing his chest. It was such a small thing—why was the kid so excited about a few morsels of candy? He watched the three females with their heads bowed together as Stephanie very slowly counted out each piece.
Yet if it really was such a small thing, why was he sitting there feeling like the proverbial fifth wheel?
The three shiny fire engines following behind the selectmen’s car made Stephanie forget all about the candy. Members of the Golden Volunteer Fire Department walked beside the trucks, handing out kid-sized fireman hats to every child along the parade route.
Stephanie pulled the red plastic cap down over her silvery bangs. “Look at me, Jordan. I’m a firegirl!”
But when the passing trucks revved up their sirens, her eyes were stricken with panic. “Mommy, make them stop,” she wailed, hiding her face in Holly’s lap.
“They’ll be gone soon, honey,” Holly soothed, patting Steph’s thin little back.
Jordan looked away. The sight of Holly mothering her child still seemed strange. He told himself to get over it.
The sirens faded as rows of Girl and Boy Scouts, dressed in uniforms of browns, greens and blues, began marching by. Stephanie, dry-eyed and none the worse for the experience, perked up immediately. Holly got to her feet and Gracie began folding up the lawn chair. Surprised, Jordan turned to Holly.
“The parade’s over,” she stated.
“Already?”
“That’s what’s nice about small-town parades. They’re short but sweet.”
The people around them were falling into line behind the scouts. “Where’s everybody going?”
“To the War Memorial and the cemetery for wreath layings and then on to the barbecue.” She led them onto the street to follow the crowd.
People seemed to be moving along in a respectful silence. Shotgun blanks echoed loudly at the War Memorial, and at the cemetery the bugle song “Taps” wove a plaintive duet with the steady, low whistle of the morning breeze. The stillness and the solemnity moved Jordan. The townspeople seemed to be taking very much to heart the honoring of lives lost. Even restless children and blasé teenagers stood straight and quiet during the ceremonies.
Afterward, the crowds drifted farther along the road, until the smoky aroma of broiling chicken filled the air. Jordan’s stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten that morning.
Although Holly kept urging her to keep up, Stephanie dragged several feet behind them. “I’m tired, Mommy. I can’t walk anymore.”
Holly held out her hand to her. “Come on, honey. It’s not much farther now.”
Bypassing Holly, Stephanie walked up to Jordan. “Will you carry me? Please?”
He stared down at her corn-colored head. “If that’s what you want,” he said, reaching out to gather her up in his arms.
But Stephanie pulled away. “Not the way moms do it.”
“What?”
“Carry me the way daddies do. Please?” she quickly added.
The way daddies carried kids? Jordan looked to Holly for help.
“She means on your shoulders,” Holly explained, sounding as wary as she looked.
“Yeah! On shoulders. Like that. And that.” Stephanie pointed at every man she saw
carrying a kid on his shoulders.
Suddenly fathers toting children on high seemed to be everywhere. From what he could see, two-parent families predominated around here. He wondered if four-year-olds were aware of things like that. Jordan kind of felt for the kid. No way was he going to disappoint her this time.
“Okay, sweetheart, a ride on the shoulders it is.”
This was a first for him. Unsure of exactly what to do, he awkwardly crouched so Stephanie could climb up on his back.
“Good Lord, I can’t watch this,” Gracie muttered. “I’ll see you at the barbecue.”
“Bye, Gracie,” Stephanie crooned as she scooted onto his shoulders.
“You don’t have to do this, Jordan.” Holly hovered close by as he slowly stood.
As he circled Stephanie’s legs to his chest, his first few steps were on the wobbly side. Afraid that he’d drop her, Jordan held on to the kid for dear life. But Steph was so light. Within minutes, he got the shoulder ride down pat.
Eventually, Holly relaxed, too. She walked alongside them without her arms half-raised, ready to catch Steph just in case. “Jordan Mason, I wouldn’t have believed this if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes,” she declared. “You are just chock-full of surprises today. You know that?”
Between Stephanie’s bubbling giggles and Holly’s intrigued glances, Jordan felt lighthearted. He liked the notion of being full of surprises. Up until a few months ago, his life had been too damn predictable.
Holly held her daughter at bay for as long as possible. But as soon as Jordan had finished eating his chicken dinner, Stephanie grabbed his hand and led him away to the pony rides. Jordan didn’t balk. In fact, he seemed more than happy to go off with her. Holly’s heart was in her throat as she watched them stroll across the playing field. The increasing affinity between Stephanie and Jordan was startling, to say the least. And worrisome.
“So your friend came back,” Gracie commented from her lawn chair, which she had set up next to the picnic table. “Kind of a surprise, isn’t it?”
Holly nodded, her gaze fixed on man and child as they drifted farther into the crowd. Jordan had returned because of the apple packing plant—or so he said. But was there more to it than that? Had he, somehow, found out about Stephanie? Was he waiting for just the right moment to confront her with the truth? That’s what she had feared when he appeared in the shop this morning.
“Is he going to be sticking around long?” Gracie asked.
Before Holly could answer, however, Nancy and Susan descended upon her. “You’ve been holding out on us, girl,” Susan accused. “Who is this tall, dark and handsome guy everyone’s talking about?”
“And where is he?” Nancy added.
Gracie uttered a scornful harrumph and turned her attention to acquaintances at the next picnic table.
Holly explained to Susan and Nancy that Jordan was an old family friend. She said nothing about his purchasing the apple packing plant It was too sore a subject in Golden these days. Unfortunately, this omission left her the target of their conjecture, which was highly romantic. Her two friends didn’t let up on the questions until their husbands showed up and dragged them away.
Their notion that Jordan was her secret lover astounded Holly. She was grateful he hadn’t been around to hear that. Heaven knows what he would have said.
Holly offered to get Gracie a cup of coffee. While waiting in line at the beverage table, she spotted her daughter having her face painted at the preschool booth. Jordan stood nearby, observing the process with great amusement. Holly found herself watching him. He looked different today in worn jeans and navy polo shirt. His bare arms were tanned and long and muscular—much more muscular than she would have thought. Stephanie pointed to him, laughing. In response, he cracked a smile so warm it took Holly’s breath away. Her pulse quickened as he shifted his weight from one long, lean leg to the other.
Jordan was a handsome man. She’d always known that. Yet feeling it was altogether different. Her heart beat faster, her skin felt warmer and her head was swirling with heightened awareness. No, she had never, ever looked at Jordan in quite this way. But now, exhilarated by the moment, Holly could not look away.
Gradually, she realized Jordan was having a similar effect on the ladies hovering around the preschool booth. These women—mothers all—appeared to be basking in the warmth of that smile of his. Apparently, they were as susceptible as she was to Jordan’s charms. Holly found no comfort in the realization. Those ladies should know better. And so should she!
Still, Holly wished they would stop ogling the poor man.
“Holly, there you are!”
Gabe’s voice gave her a jolt. Catching her breath, she mustered a weak smile. “Gracie and I wanted coffee to top off our dinner. But this line is so slow—it’s taking forever.”
“At least you’ve eaten already,” he said, showing her the meal tickets in his hand. “Jenny demanded a pony ride right away, and my sister gave in to her. Janet’s been working a lot of extra hours lately.”
“Ah, yes, guilt. It’s a mother’s curse, you know,” Holly said, feeling nothing but empathy with Janet Sawyer.
“We saw Stephanie riding the little palomino. I noticed your friend Jordan was with her.”
“Yes, he sort of popped in this morning.”
“Surprised you, did he?”
Holly chuckled in spite of herself. Gabe didn’t know the half of it. She was tempted to tell him the mystery buyer of the apple plant had finally revealed himself. Yet an odd sense of loyalty to Jordan held her back. Gabe, and everyone else in town, would know soon enough.
When Gabe moved on to the food line, Holly stole another look at the preschool booth. The face painter appeared to be putting the finishing touches on Stephanie’s butterfly face, and Jordan was still the center of attention with the preschool moms. She shook her head. Jordan didn’t have a clue about what he was in for once the news broke.
Holly realized she had to warn him before it did.
The Sawyer kids invited Stephanie over to play after church, allowing Holly to get to the old apple building early. Jordan had already arrived. She found him inside, a heavy-duty tape measure hooked onto his belt and a worn old set of building plans tucked under his arm. He was jotting furiously into a small spiral-bound notebook, unaware of her presence.
“Been here all morning, Jordan?”
He glanced up from the notebook. A startled look melted into an expression so welcoming it made her heart skip. She could almost feel the heat from his gaze as it traveled down the length of her body and back.
“You look very nice,” he murmured finally.
“I came straight from church,” she said, smoothing the hem of her pale-gold suit jacket with her hand. Right away, she realized it was an inane response to a pointed compliment. But the butterfly dance swirling low in her stomach was too distracting to allow for clever replies.
Jordan shut the notebook and reached for her hand. “Come on. I want to walk you through some of my ideas.”
He led her through the empty building, detailing proposed renovations, suggesting layouts. He was full of purpose and excitement as he outlined the possibilities. Despite her reservations about his buying the building, Holly liked many of Jordan’s ideas, and his enthusiasm relit the fire beneath her fading hopes. Still, she couldn’t help wondering why he was so enthusiastic. Surely for him a project like this was small potatoes.
Then she remembered. Jordan was no longer part of Mason CompWare and it was no longer part of him. “You really are at loose ends these days, aren’t you?” she remarked, not unkindly.
Jordan looked away. “Maybe I have been somewhat adrift—what with selling the company and then Dad’s heart attack. Guess I was thrown off my game.”
“Perhaps what you really need is a good long vacation. Time to relax and regroup.”
“Relax and regroup?” He turned to her, shaking his head. “Trust me, Holly. I need this project a hell of a lot more th
an I need a summer in the Hamptons.”
Holly could see the sense in that Jordan loved to work. After he’d found his niche at CompWare, his youthful wild shenanigans stopped. She remembered how his transformation into a hardworking businessman had stunned everyone.
“But why this building?” she asked.
“Does it really matter?” he replied, seeking her gaze.
“It does to me.” Although she couldn’t say why. Was it because of her concern for Stephanie? Was it because of what might happen with the town? Or because of the way he was looking at her right now?
“I couldn’t get it out of my mind. Or your hopes for it,” he said, his eyes still locked on hers. “Or maybe even you.”
Holly felt her cheeks burning. She was unsure of what he means.
“Maybe I just really wanted to help out an old, old friend,” Jordan concluded.
His comment confused her even more. As a deep breath of relief rushed through her lungs, a silent sigh of disappointment singed her throat. Holly tore away from his gaze. She couldn’t imagine what was the matter with her this morning. Her feelings were never this muddied.
“Holly? Is there something wrong with that?”
Pushing away her confusion, she turned around to face him. On this subject she intended to make herself clear. “It’s wrong if it’s done out of a misplaced sense of guilt, or out of pity. I won’t have you feeling sorry for me, Jordan.”
“I don’t. Honest,” he claimed with much forthrightness. Still, a slip of a smile teased his lips. “Well, except for the fact that you’re stuck in this hole-in-the-wall town. I do feel badly for you about that.”
Jordan’s smile felt like a soothing balm on the tension cracking inside her. It put her back on an even keel. And it reminded Holly that she had come to warn him.
“Maybe I should be feeling sorry for you,” she said gently. “People around here are wary of three things—rich people who throw their money around, change and newcomers.”