Heartsong Read online

  “Of course he does,” Sally interrupted impatiently. “Get to the good part. I’ve got to get back to work.”

  Laughing, Skye conformed to Sally’s wishes. “Jordan and I are going to be married.” She extended her hand to show Billy and Betty her ring.

  Betty murmured her congratulations while Billy grinned with a know-it-all attitude. “I kinda knew you liked Mr. Kiley, Skye,” Billy announced casually. “Every time you talked to him, your cheeks would get all red. Stacy McAlister’s cheeks used to do the same thing when I was in school. That’s how I knew she had a crush on me.”

  The three adults exchanged glances while Skye did exactly as Billy predicted.

  Dr. Warren’s office was within walking distance of the hospital.

  “Do you want to wait out here, or do you want to come and talk to the doctor with me?” Betty questioned as they sat in the half-full waiting room.

  “I’ll stay out here,” Skye whispered.

  Betty immediately looked disappointed. “Okay,” she nodded, putting on a brave front.

  Skye was half tempted to change her mind, but she couldn’t always be there for Betty to lean on, especially since she would be leaving San Francisco in June. No, it would be better if Betty started facing things on her own.

  The nurse called Betty’s name a few minutes later and she rose, sending Skye one last pleading glance. Skye winked, lending her emotional encouragement.

  After Betty had left, she scanned through several magazines that lay on the end tables. An issue that was dated several months back caught her attention. The cover showed Carin Cain’s smiling face. Skye smiled secretly to herself. Of late she felt she owed the model a great debt. Flipping open the pages, she turned to the article and skimmed the contents that recounted the model’s industrious career. The second page of the article showed several pictures. One in particular leaped from the page. It read: Dan Murphy, well-known music magnate and longtime friend of Ms. Cain.

  Dan Murphy … Dan Murphy … Dan Murphy … the full-bearded man stared back at her while her mind screamed his name.

  Her fingers trembled so badly, she thought she’d drop the magazine. A knot formed in her stomach and twisted painfully as she continued to stare at the picture. At first glance she wouldn’t have known it was him; the full beard hid his features well. It was the piercing gray eyes staring back at her that betrayed him. The man she loved had lied to her.

  Jordan Kiley was Dan Murphy.

  Chapter Ten

  Two nurses dressed in green surgical gowns briskly stepped across the family waiting area. Both women raised their eyes expectantly, only to be disappointed as the nurses walked through the room without pausing. It was too soon. They both knew it would be hours yet before they would receive word of Billy’s condition, but they were looking for a miracle, anything to end the interminable waiting.

  Billy had been wheeled on the long stretcher from his room to the surgical floor two hours before. Betty had broken into tears as she walked beside her son. Although drugged and woozy, Billy had attempted to assure his mother and sent a pleading glance toward Skye. But tears shimmered in her own eyes, and she looked away, unable to respond to his silent plea. Skye had wanted to be both supportive and encouraging to Betty, but her whole world had come crashing down on her and she was as desperately in need of emotional strength as Betty.

  Now the two women sat together, yet very alone. Unable to boost each other’s confidence, they didn’t speak. Unable to comfort each other, they didn’t touch. Unable to smile, they avoided looking at each other. The nervous uneasiness stretched between them to a fine, taut line.

  As time progressed, every minute, every hour, became a battle waged against fear. Skye read her Bible, seeking solace, but the comforting words only skimmed the surface of her mind. The hurt of Jordan’s deception blocked the comfort of God’s words. She didn’t know if Jordan was his name or if it was really Dan, and yet he was the man she had agreed to marry. A man she had insisted she could trust.

  When a tall, blond-haired man entered the waiting area, Skye felt Betty stiffen.

  “Bill.” The name was wrenched from her in an outpouring of incredulity and relief. She sprang to her feet and locked her arms around him.

  Skye recognized the stranger immediately. It could only be Billy’s father. The sparkling blue eyes and broad forehead strongly resembled those of young Billy. Skye’s throat constricted at the sight of the two entwined in each other’s arms, tears streaming down their faces.

  “I’ve been a fool. Can you forgive me?” he pleaded, his voice urgent. “I didn’t know about the accident. I swear I’d have come home had I known.”

  Possessing a strength Skye would never have suspected, Betty calmly related the details of the accident and the events leading to the surgery. The fear that had sparked like electricity between them only a few minutes before was gone. This was what Betty needed to face the ordeal of Billy’s surgery. Neither Skye nor anyone else could replace the presence of this man, her husband.

  The scene was poignant and tender. The two needed privacy to speak, and after an awkward introduction Skye slipped unnoticed from the waiting room.

  The small chapel was empty, she noticed gratefully. Here there could be no façade, and, staring into the distance, she allowed the acid tears to fall, burning her cheeks. She prayed again for Billy, her voice a hushed whisper, and for a long while afterward sat silently and meditatively.

  “How could Jordan lie to me like that, Lord?” she asked as all the pain of his deception rushed forward. It was the same agonizing question she had uttered a thousand times during the past few days. It was ironic that he could have been so offended by her small deception and at the same time be grossly misleading her. From this point forward she knew she couldn’t trust him or his love. With everything that had happened, she had to believe he’d offered marriage as a means of getting her to agree to sign a recording contract with his company. And all their talk about trust. Skye buried her face in her hands. If Jordan had any love for her at all, then he would have told her the truth.

  How could she have been so wrong about him? Perhaps the hurt wouldn’t be so intense if she hadn’t bared her soul to him. The details of Glen’s death that she’d shared had been a measurement of her love. Jordan couldn’t possibly love her, she realized. Carrying the charade to this extreme proved his avowed love could only represent a shadow of what God meant their love to be.

  After Glen and her father had died, Skye felt she would never again experience such deep emotional pain. Now she was forced to admit her error. No physical pain could possibly hurt this much. Straightening, she wiped her face dry and swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew what she must do.

  The swish of air came from behind, indicating someone had entered the chapel. The tiny hairs at the base of her neck rose in recognition. It was Jordan. He had said he’d come, but Skye had half expected him to lie about that, too. She didn’t turn around, wanting to delay seeing him as long as possible. The sound of each footstep advancing toward her was magnified a hundred times until Skye lowered her head to reduce the deafening noise. With her eyes shut tightly, she prayed for control and the strength to do what she must.

  When Jordan sat beside her in the wooden pew, Skye jerked slightly with reaction. This was going to be worse than she’d imagined.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he whispered tenderly, and with familiar ease slipped his arm around her shoulder.

  Skye couldn’t tolerate his touch; it made things all the more impossible. Trembling, she broke the contact and stood shakily, her feet almost faltering as she left the chapel with him.

  “We need to talk. Can we go someplace?” she asked breathlessly. Glancing briefly at him, she didn’t quite meet his eyes.

  Jordan’s gaze made an appraising sweep of her face and the tiny lines of strain about her mouth. Her eyes held a troubled light.

  “The cafeteria?” he questioned.

  Skye nodde
d lamely and led the way to the elevator, pushing the button to the basement floor. They made the descent silently, the only sound the almost indiscernible hum of the elevator. The large metal doors glided open and Skye stepped forward, walking directly into the cafeteria and finding a table while Jordan purchased two cups of coffee. Accepting the Styrofoam cup, Skye stared into the steaming liquid rather than meet Jordan’s eyes.

  “Are you that worried about Billy?” he asked suddenly, the charcoal gray of his eyes regarding her steadily.

  “Not anymore.” Her voice sounded shaky, and she was striving for a quiet firmness. “Billy’s father came. I suppose you met him in the waiting room.” She glanced briefly at Jordan. She wanted to memorize every line of his rugged features and at the same time erase his existence from her life.

  “Jordan,” she began shakily, clenching her drink with both hands and avoiding looking at him. “I have something important I need to tell you.”

  “Sure; what is it?” His hands gently cupped hers, his voice tender and concerned.

  The hypocrisy of his concern gave her the courage to continue. “I’ve done some soul searching this weekend and …” She hesitated. Bile rose from her stomach, and for a moment she thought she might be sick.

  “I’ve tried phoning several times. Where were you?”

  She wanted to watch his reaction when she told him, but was incapable of looking higher than the knot of his tie. How silly it was to note how the dark blue silk sharply contrasted with the pale blue of his shirt. “The cemetery,” she murmured, returning her gaze to her coffee cup.

  Jordan removed the cup from her trembling fingers as her gaze followed his action. The finger lifting her chin brought her eyes level with his.

  “What were you doing in a graveyard?” he asked, his voice tight and clipped.

  “I had to talk to Glen,” she said haltingly, her voice barely above a whisper.

  His gaze narrowed, pinning her. “Glen is dead. You can’t talk to a dead man.”

  “Glen is gone, I realize that,” she said tightly, hoping he would see the subtle difference. “But his love for me is eternal, just as mine is for him.” Rather than confront Jordan with what she’d learned, she’d decided to end it by putting forth an argument for which he had no response. She had no desire to listen to his explanations for fear they would only be more lies.

  “Stop speaking of him as if he were a living, breathing person. The man’s been dead and buried for eight years. It’s time you owned up to that.”

  She ignored his words and spoke with a grim kind of calm. “I was kidding myself when I accepted your marriage proposal, Jordan. There will never be another man for me. I’ve heard of women who can only love one man in their lifetime. I didn’t realize until this weekend that I was one of them.”

  When she glanced at him briefly she saw that the color had drained from his face.

  “I’m sorry,” she finished weakly.

  “Yeah, sure. I bet you’re real sorry.” The aggression in his voice aroused the attention of others sitting nearby. Many stopped to stare at them curiously. Jordan ignored them. “I don’t know what has gotten into you, Skye, but by heaven there had better be more explanation than this boloney.” His hands gripped her wrists. “If what you say is true, then what was all that talk about wanting children?”

  “I’ve always loved children. I guess it’s only natural to want one of my own, but I could never desecrate Glen’s love for me. I can’t marry you, Jordan. I belong to Glen. I always will.”

  His eyes blasted her a look as frigid as the Arctic wind.

  “I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” she whispered.

  He released both her wrists at once, as if he found her touch repulsive. His face was rigid as though unwilling to show any emotion or reaction.

  Skye could barely breathe, the tension mounting as the silence continued.

  “Under the circumstances, I can’t accept this,” she said, sounding pitifully weak. She slid the ring from her finger and held it out to him.

  An eternity passed before he accepted the diamond. His hand closed over the edge of the table, and he shoved his chair outward, jerking himself upright.

  Skye watched him go, her breath so shallow it was almost nonexistent. Jordan weaved around the tables with long angry strides as if he couldn’t remove himself from her fast enough. A second later he was out of sight and out of her life.

  I should be grateful he’s gone. I should consider myself fortunate that he’s out of my life, her mind screamed, but her heart refused to listen.

  “Heel, Sampson,” Janey ordered, and without hesitation the dog returned to his mistress, his tail wagging and dark eyes eager to obey.

  “Sit,” she ordered next, and Sampson willingly complied, lowering his rump to the lush green grass.

  “Good boy.” Big, floppy ears waited for the petting and praise. Skye lowered herself beside the dog and Janey, who was now lying on her back examining the sky with a piece of grass clenched between her teeth.

  “Are you two dog trainers ready for something cold to drink?” Peggy asked from the kitchen window.

  “Bring some cookies, too,” Janey instructed.

  “Will do,” Peggy agreed good-naturedly and joined the pair a few minutes later with a tray containing an iced pitcher, three glasses, and a plate of cookies.

  “Have a cookie, Aunt Skye. They’re chocolate chip and real yummy.”

  “No thanks, cupcake.” Her appetite had been nonexistent for weeks. She ate only because it was a necessary part of life. As a result her willowy figure now bordered on gaunt, as Brad had pointedly remarked.

  “When is Jordan coming to see you?” Blue eyes, miniature duplicates of her aunt’s, waited for Skye’s answer.

  “He isn’t,” Skye said flatly, struggling to keep her voice steady.

  “I thought Jordan was real nice. I liked him,” Janey insisted before reaching for another cookie.

  “I … I think he’s nice, too,” Skye agreed tautly.

  “But I thought he was nice enough to be my uncle, and you said that …”

  “That’s enough, Janey,” Peggy intervened sharply, watching Skye anxiously.

  Skye smiled weakly in appreciation. She didn’t want to think about Jordan or make further explanations; it only renewed the pain she was struggling to control.

  “Janey, go inside and bring me my knitting.” Peggy smiled gently at her daughter. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

  Janey bounced from her position on the grass with the fluid grace of a young fawn.

  “Don’t mind Janey,” Peggy said, her voice suddenly sober. “She’s been worried about you. We all have been. I wish things had worked out between you and Jordan. Janey doesn’t mean any harm …”

  Skye swiftly interrupted. “I don’t mind, but I’m beginning to think the girl is ninety-five percent mother hen.” The attempt at humor was accompanied by a feeble smile. Her thick lashes fluttered downward to hide the hurt and regret while her voice revealed everything. “I know it’s difficult for you to understand, but it could never have worked between Jordan and me. There has to be a basic trust and honesty between couples—something sadly lacking in our relationship.”

  “But I can understand why he didn’t want you to know the truth, especially in the beginning.”

  Why did Peggy have to defend him? She was experiencing so many doubts herself. It had been wrong to lie about loving Glen. Two wrongs didn’t equal a right, but she’d been deeply hurt and assumed this was the best way to break the engagement.

  “I do blame him,” she said stiffly.

  Peggy sighed, expelling her breath unevenly. “Brad found out something yesterday I think you should know.” She shifted uneasily, as if uncertain she should continue. “Jordan is responsible for Brad’s job. Apparently the company owner is a friend of Jordan’s, and he phoned, asking him to hire Brad. I’m glad Brad didn’t find out right away. I’m sure he would have quit, but as it’s turned out, the job is per
fect for both sides. And I don’t know what we would’ve done if Brad hadn’t gone to work when he did. His self-worth, ego, and self-confidence couldn’t take much more rejection.”

  A replica of a smile touched Skye’s mouth. “I think I’d already guessed that. After we learned that Jordan was responsible for Billy’s surgery and locating his father, there isn’t anything that would surprise me.”

  Peggy defended him again. “His heart was in the right place. You have to admit that.”

  Skye’s fingers curled around her glass of lemonade. “Perhaps. But Jordan was playing God. I don’t think he would ever have learned to trust Christ with his life. His money could buy him anything he wanted. For that reason alone I know I did the right thing.”

  Peggy gave an exasperated sigh. “You’re not making any sense.”

  Skye stood abruptly, impatiently. “Haven’t you ever heard the Scripture about it being harder for a camel to go through the eye of the needle in one wall of Jerusalem than for a rich man to get into heaven? I think I fully understand what Christ was saying now.”

  Peggy’s expression remained troubled as she regarded her sister-in-law. “How’s Billy?”

  Skye smiled, her first genuine smile of the day, a poignant catch in her voice. “He’s doing terrific!”

  During the past weeks Skye had carefully weaned herself from Billy. His progress had been phenomenal, and there was every indication he would walk again. Billy didn’t need her anymore, and for her sake as much as his, she’d spaced her visits farther and farther apart. Whatever differences Bill and Betty had experienced before were working themselves out. From what she understood, they were working with a marriage counselor. For all Skye knew Jordan had his hand in that as well.

  Skye changed into her jogging clothes once she was home. She ran more and more now, and a forty-mile week was not uncommon. Running dulled her senses until she was so exhausted, it didn’t matter what thoughts her mind entertained. If anyone questioned her desire to pursue the sport, she explained that she was considering running a marathon. To prove her point she competed in the Bay to Breakers city run the third Sunday in May. She’d made respectable time, and was encouraged. At least running had helped her overcome the horrible apathy she’d experienced after last seeing Jordan.