Baby on the Way (12 page)

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She
wanted
Jordan nearby, wanted him to be there, wanted to count on him. She just didn’t think she could risk loving him.

Caitlin shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She’d deal with apologizing to Maryann in the morning.
Somehow. “Do you think they’re finished their manto-man talk now?”

“I don’t know. But they can take it elsewhere. You need your rest.” Beth marched to the door, opened it and led Caitlin across the hall. “Pregnant women need less stress in their lives, not more,” she said loudly.

“All anyone seems to want me to do is rest,” Caitlin mourned. “It’s very tiring.”

“I know you’re tired. Hang on a sec.” Her friend planted her knuckles against the wood and rapped.

Beth heard only what she wanted to hear, Caitlin mused. Maybe she was like that, too. She ignored the harsher parts of life, tried to gloss them over, so she wouldn’t have to face them.

“Sorry, Lyn. Clay and I can take this somewhere else.” Jordan smiled easily, his golden eyes glowing behind the glasses. “You get some rest.”

Clay ambled to the door behind him. They both looked like they were hiding something.

“I wish everyone would stop saying that. I don’t want to rest, I want to help Clay learn to dance so he can ask Maryann out.” She slapped her hands on her hips and glared at the three of them. “If that’s all right with you?”

Beth shrugged, murmured good-night and retreated to her apartment. Clay shuffled from one foot to the other uncomfortably but didn’t offer a word of protest when she urged him inside her place. Jordan followed, closing the door behind him as Caitlin started the music once more.

“We do not require an audience,” she told him firmly.

“I know. I’ll just watch, see if I can help old Clay out with his footwork.” Jordan flopped down on the sofa, his smile wide and endearing. “I won’t be in the way, I promise.”

No matter how much she glared at him, Jordan didn’t move. Caitlin felt uncomfortably self-conscious as she urged Clay to take the lead. He wasn’t even trying.

“I’m not that old, you know,” he blurted as he stood in the middle of the room. “I just can’t seem to dance.”

“Here, let me show you.” Jordan slid his arm around Caitlin’s waist, and wrapped his fingers around her hand. “You don’t push her back and forth like a sack of potatoes, Clay. You glide to the music. You choose the path and she’ll follow. See?”

Caitlin allowed herself to sway to the music, effortlessly following Jordan’s lead. He was as surefooted in dancing as he was in everything else and for once she appreciate his confidence. It was much nicer to dance with a man who knew where he was going.

The music was soft and dreamy. Caitlin closed her eyes and drifted as a plaintive saxophone drew the last few notes out, pretending she was young again, instead of the age she felt right now.

“You’re a wonderful dancer,” Jordan murmured, his mouth next to her ear. “You really get into the music.”

Another tune started and he kept going, sweeping her out of her dowdy surroundings and into a magical place where everything was perfect. She could hear a waterfall and a bird twittered in the background. In her mind’s eye she could see lush green grass and wildflowers swaying in the breeze.

“It’s easy to dance when you have a good partner.” Caitlin opened her eyes and transported herself back to reality. “But I’m supposed to be helping Clay.” She glanced around, spying the other man who stood staring out the window.

“I know.” Jordan let her go without another word, watching silently. “Ready to try again, Clay?”

“It’s nice of you to try to help me, Caitlin,” Clay muttered as he took her hand and started to move the way she’d instructed. “But I don’t think there’s much point. Even if I could master these steps and feel comfortable doing them, I wouldn’t know what to say to her.”

“Talk about anything,” Caitlin encouraged. “There’s no set subject you have to discuss.”

Jordan smiled to himself. Lyn was getting a little frustrated with this particular pupil. He could see it in the crease at the corner of her mouth when she reminded the erstwhile lover that Maryann was a mortal woman who was perfectly capable of conversing on a number of subjects.

“Do you think she’s beautiful?” he heard her say.

Clay snorted. “Of course she’s beautiful. Anyone with eyes can see that.”

“Then why don’t you tell her so? You can compliment
her on her eyes or her lovely hair or on what she’s wearing.”

Jordan winced along with Caitlin when Clay’s big foot covered hers for the umpteenth time. She should have worn steel-toed boots!

“Her hair always reminds me of Naida’s,” Clay was saying.

Jordan frowned, hoping Caitlin would pick up on that.

“That’s nice. But I don’t think you should necessarily compare her to another woman.” Her foot avoided his just in time.

“Naida’s a sheep,” Jordan murmured and watched as her eyes, now focused on Clay’s, widened in a stare of shock. She forgot the music completely, staring at him as if he had just sprouted horns.

“You can’t compare Maryann’s hair to sheep’s wool!” Shock rendered her incapable of dancing and Caitlin stood where she was, her mouth an O of astonishment.

“But I like sheep’s wool,” Clay insisted. “It’s so soft. And the oil on it is really good for chapped skin.”

Jordan held his breath, choking down the laugh that burbled inside as he caught sight of Caitlin’s stricken face. Her mouth opened and closed several times as she sought for the right words, but evidently there were none. She flopped into her chair with an air of utter futility, her eyes begging him for help.

Jordan got to his feet, wondering how he’d landed himself in this fix. The only person he’d even consider
playing Cupid for was Caitlin. He just couldn’t bring himself to ignore the mute desperation in her eyes.

He’d help her. After all, that was his role now, wasn’t it? Big brother, uncle? He’d told her he was there for her whenever she needed him. Well, Caitlin Andrews needed him now.

“Clay,” he sighed, motioning the other man to the remaining chair. “It’s not a good idea to compare women, especially one you care about, to animals. Not in that way. If you want to talk about your animals, that’s fine. But if you like her hair, just tell her that. You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not.”

Ha, his conscience jabbed him. Wasn’t that exactly what he was doing right now, with his brother’s wife? He was pretending to be her good friend, the brother-in-law who only wanted to help.

Well, he wanted a whole lot more than that! And if he told the truth, he always had. Shock reverberated through his system as the knowledge he’d deliberately hidden burst forth into the light.

Vaguely Jordan realized with some part of his mind, that Lyn and Clay were talking about goatskins. But he couldn’t deal with that now. The truth that erupted inside his mind took his complete and total concentration.

He loved her! He always had. Even when he’d been so busy playing chivalrous big brother, he’d been in love with Caitlin. So why had he stood aside for Michael?

The answer was hard to accept.

Michael was young. He’d lived life to the max and he didn’t worry too much about the future. Caitlin, in her shy, protected world, had gravitated to that like a bee to honey. He’d seen it himself the first time he’d introduced them. She’d been enthralled by Michael’s shining light, riveted by his boyish joie de vivre.

By contrast, Jordan felt old and boring. And he was! He was older than both of them. He didn’t want to speed around in fast cars or go to exciting parties. He didn’t have to search for a vocation. He’d always known he’d be in computers. The same way he’d always known Caitlin would come back to him.

Of course, he hadn’t expected Michael to marry her! That had come as a total shock. And a revelation. Jordan came home after the wedding, of course. He had to, had to see it to believe it. He’d even been coerced into playing a part in the celebrations his parents had thrown. But as soon as he could, he’d left, using business as his excuse.

Because even though Caitlin was married to Michael, Jordan still loved her. It was despicable! It was wrong. It was a sin. He stayed away, praying desperately that God would take away this longing for the forbidden. And when Michael had died, driving
his
car, Jordan knew it was his fault because he’d hidden that love inside and nurtured it. He had no choice but to disappear from her life. He couldn’t hang around Oakburn, knowing that he was in love with his brother’s wife. That would have been traitorous.

But what about now?

He still loved her. Jordan had no doubts about that. It was a different kind of love, though. A more mature love. He was prepared to bide his time, let her get used to having him around again. Then he’d test the waters. Maybe in time, please God, she’d see him as something more than the bossy older brother.

“Jordan? Don’t you agree?” Caitlin’s earnest face frowned up at him. “About waiting,” she prompted.

“There’s nothing wrong with waiting,” Clay insisted. “God will let me know when it’s the right time.”

“I think He already has.” Caitlin’s voice was firm. “After ten years Maryann is back, she’s single and she has a little girl who needs a father. What more do you need? A lightning bolt?”

Jordan grinned at her vehemence. Caitlin never prevaricated. If there was a decision to be made, she considered both sides, weighed the arguments and chose. If it was a wrong choice, so be it. She dealt with the flak. But she didn’t spend time dithering about which route to take. Maybe it was time to take a leaf out of her book.

“She’s right, Clay. A man needs to be strong. Forceful. To go after what he wants. If your motives are pure, God will direct you.”

Ha! Were his own motives pure? Jordan ignored that nasty little voice and weighed his options.

I
love Caitlin
he said to himself. I
want to marry her, to help her raise the baby. I want to be able to tell the world that I love her. I don’t want to feel ashamed or embarrassed about my feelings any more.

Yes. That was the truth. So now it was time to lay it all on the line.

Jordan glanced at the other man. Unlike Clay, he was certain he would know the right place and time to tell her. And he’d just have to keep praying that she would get past her fears of abandonment and realize that he wasn’t going anywhere without her.

“Jordan? I’ve just told Clay we’ll help him think of some compliments when he comes tomorrow night. Is that okay with you?”

Jordan nodded yes while inside his mind screamed no! If Clay was going to hang around all the time, how would he ever get an opportunity to talk to Caitlin privately?

The following weekend Caitlin allowed herself to sink a little deeper into the softness of her chair as the conversation around her raged on. It was girls’ afternoon at Wintergreen, as the Andrews women had officially dubbed it, and it was turning out to be fun.

“Women are more mature. They know what they want and they go after it. Why can’t men understand that?” Robyn sighed.

“Because men are romantics.” Eliza sipped her tea calmly. “They want us to be helpless, to need them. And we do. But we can also function perfectly well on our own in some matters. That’s irritating to someone who sees you as the little woman.”

“That’s what Jordan’s like,” Caitlin offered. She flushed a little when Robyn’s eyes focused on her. “Well, he is! He thinks I can’t vacuum the floor just
because I’m pregnant. He insists on bringing in a cleaning service which is silly because I always clean up before they come so they won’t think I live in filth.”

A burst of sympathetic laughter agreed.

“It’s not funny,” she grumbled. “Yesterday I wanted to clean out that hall cupboard. He insisted on bringing this chair out into the hallway and I had to sit there while
he
sorted through the junk left over from the move.” She shifted uncomfortably. “I’m pregnant, not paralyzed.”

“Jordan always was pushy. He’s the type who walks little old ladies across the street, even when they don’t want to go.” Natasha’s voice rang with the certainty of a younger sister from her position on the floor where she reclined against some cushions.

“He’s good-hearted though, Nat. You have to give him that. He wouldn’t willingly hurt a flea.” Olivia snatched another brownie and bit into it with a sigh. “He also eats like a whale and never gains an ounce. Why didn’t you pass that gene on to me, Mother?”

“It belonged to your father. And he kept it for the boys. Michael always ate well, too.”

Silence, stark and bare greeted her words. Eliza stared for a moment, then rushed into speech. “Oh, Caitlin, my dear. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you.” She patted her daughter-in-law’s hand worriedly. “Sometimes I forget and, well…” She stopped.

“It’s all right, Eliza. Really. I know Michael’s
gone. And I’m sad about it. But I can still talk about him, remember him, without breaking down. I think.”

“Of course you can.” Natasha’s bracing tones were exactly what they all needed. “Michael might have died, but you didn’t. You’re alive and it’s only natural that you should go on with your life, find someone else to love.” She studied Caitlin with a frown.

“Is this Clay guy the one you’ve chosen?”

“Natasha!” Robyn, Olivia and Eliza all burst out at the same time.

“That’s none of your business, Nat. Caitlin doesn’t have to explain to you.” Robyn’s rueful glance met Caitlin’s. “Just ignore her.”

“No, of course I won’t ignore her.” Caitlin rubbed a hand over her forehead, wondering where to start.

“Good. So spill it all, Caitlin. I want to know what Clay means to you.” Natasha’s generous mouth curved down. “I somehow never thought of him as your kind of guy. But what do I know?”

“Exactly what I’d like to know.” Robyn’s eyebrows raised meaningfully, but whatever else she was going to say was drowned by her daughter’s cries. “Come on, sweetie,” she comforted Eudora. “Mommy’ll kiss it better.”

“Clayton Matthews is just a friend. Someone I’m trying to help out. He’s not interested in me at all.” Would that do it? Caitlin certainly hoped so.