Baby on the Way (7 page)

But Jordan wouldn’t leave it alone. She knew him well enough to know that he was like a dog with a bone once he got hold of an idea. And right now, the last thing she needed was more tension. Life already seemed like she was walking a tightrope. Quarreling with Jordan would only make it worse.

“I promise, I’ll involve them in the baby’s life.
They’ll be so tired of me, they’ll beg off. But not right now, okay?”

“But Lyn, they’d love to…” He took a second look at her face and stopped talking.

As she sank into the big armchair, Caitlin’s brain searched for a way out of her dilemma. She did not want to have this discussion again. How could she tactfully explain that she was afraid their interest wouldn’t last, that she’d become a burden on them, that they reminded her of what she’d lost?

Nothing momentous occurred to her by the time he broke the silence.

“Why don’t you come over to Mom and Dad’s for supper tonight? The girls are planning Dad’s birthday on Sunday. They’d love to see you again.”

Caitlin recognized the veiled reference to the fact that she had studiously avoided his family. Jordan, it seemed, was intent on making up for lost time. Two visits in one week?

“I know they’re a bit talkative and my mother does have a slight tendency to stride in where angels fear to tread.” Jordan winked. “But if it gets to be too much, I promise I’ll take you straight home. Inquisition or not.”

“Okay,” she agreed softly after several moments of rapid thought, eventually admitting the real reason for agreeing to his plans. She wanted to see them again, revel in the love and caring. “But only if you phone your mother first and tell her I’m coming.”

“Fine,” Jordan grunted, obviously satisfied if not mystified by her sudden capitulation. “I’ll phone her,
but you know perfectly well that she loves company. The more the merrier.”

“And tell her we’ll bring over some chicken, too.”

Jordan groaned his dismay, his face curled up in disgust.

A scant hour later they were waiting at a local fastfood establishment to pick up the fried chicken Caitlin insisted on ordering. Jordan climbed out of his car with reluctance, only to poke his head back in at her.

“I hate chicken, you know,” he muttered, his wide mouth curving down in distaste.

“I do know, Jordan.” Caitlin grinned at him without apology. “And even if I didn’t, you’ve reminded me at least six times since we left home.”

“Why couldn’t we just pick up some steaks and barbecue?”

“Because I feel like eating fried chicken. I’m sure your dad will have something else, just in case. He doesn’t seem to enjoy this particular delicacy any more than you do.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he groaned. “Dad likes some really wild things. What if it’s bear sausage?”

She grinned. “Maybe it will be roasted pelican or unruffled duck. Will you stop wasting time and just get the chicken?”

“Fine. I’ll go, but I don’t like it.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, his hair flopping down over one quirked eyebrow. “How come you don’t eat pickles and ice cream like the books say?”

“You read books about pregnancy?” The very idea sent her eyes winging to his.

“I’m interested. Okay?” Jordan flushed a deep, dark, embarrassed red. He sauntered into the store, mumbling to himself all the way.

Caitlin sat in his car and considered this newfound knowledge. Jordan was reading up on pregnancy. It was…endearing. Imagine taking the time to study her condition! The knowing warmed her inside until she considered the folly of what she was doing.

She was letting them in. Little by little Jordan and his family were eating away at the protective wall she’d built around her heart.

“But it’s only temporary,” she assured her nagging conscience. “Just till after I get settled with the baby. Surely it’s not wrong to be friends with Jordan. Is it?”

But is it friendship you want from him? Or are you looking for a replacement for Michael? Is Jordan just a way of avoiding the truth?

“I know I’m alone here, God,” she muttered, dashing the tears from her eyes. “You don’t have to hit me over the head. I know that there’s only me I can count on.”

I’m here.

The words resounded through her head like a train whistle in a tunnel.

You can depend on me, Caitlin.

“No, I can’t,” she whispered, twisting her hands miserably.

I
will never leave you. I’m always here.

Could she believe that?

A
half hour later, ensconced in his mother’s front room, Jordan allowed his eyes to rest on Caitlin once more. Her hair curled down her back in a riot of dark russet that refused to be confined. Her clear profile was both elegant and arresting. She was as beautiful as she had ever been.

Caitlin’s eyes, dark and mossy, almost hid the fears and secrets she never talked about. He’d been acquainted with her for years and yet Jordan realized he had never really known her at all. When she was hurt or worried, Caitlin pulled inside herself. That was exactly what had happened when Mike died. She had closed herself off to everyone.

Those same eyes seemed duller now. The dimples remained though, hidden away at the corner of her mouth until she grinned that impishly heartrending smile that stretched her wide full mouth and tore at his heart.

Jordan turned away, calling himself a prize fool. Caitlin was his brother’s widow. She was lost and alone because his brother had died while driving Jordan’ s car.

Rationally, in some part of his brain, Jordan knew it wasn’t his fault. Michael had always driven fast. And the terribly cold conditions last winter made black ice a sure thing. But nothing he told himself, and nothing anyone else could ever say, took away that niggling bit of doubt at the back of his mind.

Should he have died in his brother’s place?

He was brought out of his introspection by the slap of his father’s hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, son. We’ve got to get those buffalo steaks seasoned and on the grill if we’re going to eat tonight.” He chuckled at Jordan’s quick look toward the kitchen. “I, for one, refuse to eat chicken.”

The hint was subtle, and Jordan surged to his feet as Stan had known he would. “Chicken, yuck. Those are the magic words, Dad,” he whispered conspiratorially. They sneaked out while the women chatted and admired the newest antics of Robyn’s daughter Eudora.

As they sat out on the deck, watching the northern lights wave and flicker in the black autumn sky, Stan questioned his son’s sudden silence. “What happened to the life of the party?”

“I don’t know,” Jordan replied, then teasingly turned the question around. “Are you tired or something?” He grinned at his father’s smug look. “Maybe your age is catching up with you. Or maybe
it’s the peculiar food you eat. Has Mom been feeding you Scottish haggis again?” He ducked to avoid the swat Stan directed at his head.

They shared sympathetic male glances of commiseration.

“She looks good, doesn’t she Jordy?” They both knew who Stan was talking about.

“Yeah. Better than she did this afternoon, anyway.” Jordan filled his father in on the now ready nursery.

“Why’d she keep away for so long, do you think?” Stan asked, his lined brow creased in thought. “Michael’s death should have drawn us closer.”

“I know, Dad. But Lyn’s always been a loner. Remember that her folks died when she was little and she was left with that old aunt of hers for company. I guess all that kind of built up over the years and she feels isolated.” Jordan followed the white ribbon of light as it folded and rolled across the dark sky, turning green, then fading away.

“When Lucy died, she left everything to her next of kin, that is, Caitlin. Never even named her. Not a very loving gesture to the girl who lived with her for so long. I suspect Caitlin doesn’t really understand the bond between families.”

Stan nodded, his voice soft with affection. “At least she’s got the baby, son. That’ll help her.”

Jordan shook his head. “I’m not so sure the baby’s a good thing for Caitlin right now, Dad. I’m not even sure she’s really over losing Michael.”

When Stan’s white head reared back in surprise,
Jordan tried to explain himself. “It’s not that I’m not happy about Michael’s child being born. I think it’s great.” He stared into the night trying to organize his thoughts. “It’s just that Lyn’s going to bank everything on this child, you know. He or she is all Lyn has left and her emotions are all wound up in that responsibility, in proving herself.”

He took in a lungful of the cool, fresh air and tried to explain more clearly. When the harvest moon slid out from behind a cloud, Jordan could see leaves floating down to earth.

“Lyn is going to have to be both mother and father to this child and the idea scares her. I think that’s why she’s backed away from you and Mom. She’s afraid she won’t measure up or something. She hasn’t had a role model for a long time, remember?”

His father studied him wordlessly, his look thoughtful.

“Since her parents’ death, Caitlin never had anyone who made her feel extra special. Then Mike came along to look after her, be her protector. Now she’s lost him and gained the responsibility of a new life. I’m not sure that what she needs are more worries. I think what she really needs is a childhood.” Jordan grimaced at his father. “Twenty-six is awfully young to take on all those burdens alone.”

“It’s awfully young to die, too, Jordy,” Stan murmured softly, reminding him of Michael’s youth so quickly gone. “But we can’t question God. If He’s going to be in control, we have to let go and trust Him to work everything together for good.”

“I know, Dad, I know.” It wasn’t anything Jordan hadn’t been telling himself for months now. “I don’t understand, but I’ll try to trust.”

Stan straightened from his position with a groan, kneading the small of his back. “You know, son, if Caity never had a real loving home, then she’s never had the security of love that comes from a family like you and Mike had. She probably never found someone who cared about her until you guys came along. You two must have been like some kind of knights to her back then.”

Jordan broke in with his own thoughts, his face heating with embarrassment. “I wasn’t that, Dad. She just had a crush on me. It was Mike she really loved. In fact, other than that short time she shared with him, I think she’s spent most of her life on the outside, looking in.”

“So you’ve said before. But, Jordan, the thing is…” Stan stopped and stared up at the stars that glittered above. “Maybe the purpose of us in all of this is to make sure Caitlin finds out what it’s like to have love backing her all the way. Maybe if she feels she can rely on the rest of us, she’ll be able to let Michael go.”

Stan met his son’s clear gaze head-on. “I think Caitlin is going to need us now more than ever. She’s a strong young woman, but nobody can do it all. Only God can do that.” His father grinned slyly. “Maybe you’ll be the one Caitlin will lean on again. That should please you.”

Jordan thought about his father’s advice as they
pulled the buffalo steaks off the grill and took them inside. He thought about it as the family ate dinner. He considered every aspect of having Caitlin lean on him, allowing much of the conversation to ebb and flow around him.

A faint smile curved his mouth as he considered the likelihood of feisty, determined Caitlin Andrews leaning on his shoulder. It wasn’t apt to happen anytime soon, but he couldn’t think of anything he would like better.

Caitlin perched on the corner of the huge double bed Stan and Eliza shared, admiring the quilt they’d come up to see. She’d been aware of what was coming when Robyn offered to load the dishwasher so they could “talk.” Now Eliza’s hand folded around hers.

“Honey,” the older woman’s soft voice comforted. “I’m not complaining, but I wish you had told us sooner. So we could have helped you. It must be difficult for you.”

“I’m sorry,” Caitlin apologized, feeling silly for doubting their warm reception and yet still needing to hold on to her reserve. “I should have. I just wanted to make sure I could do this on my own, I guess.” She met Eliza’s probing blue eyes. “I feel I have to stand alone, be strong. Besides, you were busy.”

“Not that busy! And you are strong, dear. The strongest young woman I’ve ever met. But sometimes it’s okay to lean on other people, too. At least we’re
here now and you won’t be able to push us away. We’re going to keep you really close.”

There wasn’t a hint of censure in Eliza’s smooth voice as she hugged her daughter-in-law, just a wealth of warm, unconditional love. She held no grudges.

“Now tell me,” the older woman commanded, smiling. “Did you have a lot of morning sickness?”

“No, thank goodness. I was never really sick, just sort of woozy some mornings. The oddest thing still sets me off.” Caitlin rolled her eyes back in her head. “Of course, some foods have the power to make my insides flip,” she acknowledged with a grin.

Eliza nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. I craved onion rings with Robyn, but one taste and that was it.”

Caitlin giggled. “I just get the slightest whiff and whoosh…there goes my stomach. Hamburgers do it every time.”

They laughed together at the vagaries of pregnancy and Eliza still held her hand as they wandered back downstairs.

“I love having you here,” she whispered, a tear in the corner of her eye. “It’s like having my other daughter home after a long absence.” She tucked a strand of hair behind Caitlin’s ear and smiled. “Shall we see what Jordan’s up to?”

As they walked through her home, Eliza related a few stories about her five attempts at motherhood, including Jordan’s unexpected arrival.

“He was early, you know. Almost a month.” Eliza winked as they returned to the kitchen to find the two
men playing chess and sipping coffee at the kitchen table. “But then, Jordan’s always been pushy,” his mother teased. “Never could wait his turn.”

“I’ve noticed,” Caitlin replied tongue in cheek as she watched her brother-in-law sprawl across the table, reaching for his king. With a wing of dark hair dropped over one eye, Jordan resembled a mischievous little boy. He stared up at them through his lenses, one hand dangling over the chessboard.

“Were you two talking about me all this time?” he speculated, puffing his chest out. “Of course, there is a lot to say.”

He assumed a wounded look when they burst out laughing, but bore their teasing with reluctant good grace. He offered a few choice witticisms of his own that had them clutching their sides just as Natasha, the youngest of the Andrewses’ daughters, stuck her head through the kitchen door, closely followed by Olivia.

“Caitlin,” Natasha squealed, enveloping her in a hug before standing back to survey her sister-in-law. “You look great. Big, but great.”

Robyn groaned. “I’ve just cured Jordan of foot-inmouth disease, Nat, and now you start. Olivia, feed her a cookie, so she’ll stop embarrassing us.”

Everyone began chatting at once and Caitlin sank into a nearby chair, enjoying it all.

A few moments later Eliza questioned her daughter. “What have you been up to tonight? You look like the cat that swallowed the canary.”

Natasha grinned her big toothy smile and shrugged
her elegant shoulders, dislodging her white wool cape. She hung it on a nearby peg then smoothed a hand over her suede pants. As buyer for a women’s boutique in nearby Minneapolis, Nat always wore perfectly coordinated outfits in the latest styles. Caitlin envied her chic look.

“Oh, just trying to get the rest of my Christmas shopping done,” she said, plugging her ears when the entire room began to protest.

“Good grief,” Stan grumped, using his son’s favorite expression. “It’s barely the end of October. What’s the rush?”

“Oh, you know Nat. Always be prepared. Good thing she’s going out with a Boy Scout.” Jordan put in his two cents’ worth with a smug look. He clutched his chest in pretended pain when his sister glared at him, her eyes daring him to continue.

“Ow, that look hurt!” He burst out laughing when she ignored him. “You’re such a bully, Nat.”

“Just because you never get around to doing any shopping until four o’clock on the twenty-fourth,” she reminded him with a sniff, “is no reason to make fun of everyone else, brother dear. Some of us are organized.” Her wide eyes beseeched Caitlin’s in mock despair.

Caitlin couldn’t suppress a grin. They were like little kids.

“You know, Caitlin, the man is almost thirty years old. You’d think he would have figured out by now that Christmas comes on the same day every year.”

“What day is that, Nat?” Jordan kept his tone perfectly
serious as he moved his knight one step closer to Stan’s king.

“See what I mean,” she wailed to Caitlin, eyes sparkling.

I see, Caitlin thought to herself. I see that you love Jordan as much as he loves you.

That thought started a little ache in her heart. There was so much love here, she could feel it surrounding her, nestling her inside its warmth and protection.

“Checkmate!” Jordan snapped his piece onto the board, then crowed with delight, rubbing his hands together with glee while his father sat frowning and confused.

Stan protested, glowering as he studied the board. His eyes searched for some devious means that would explain his son’s sudden success.

“You cheated Jordan. I don’t know how, but you did. There’s no way you could have pulled that off!”

“Cheated?” Jordan’s big grin drooped. He thumped a fist to his chest. “You wound me to the quick!”

“If you mean your heart, it’s on the other side,” Robyn chastised, but her lips twitched. “And you did take advantage of Dad. We just don’t know how. I think you should get closed-circuit TV, Stan.”

“As if you know anything about chess,” Jordan sniffed disparagingly.

“Children,” Eliza pleaded, although her face was wreathed in smiles. “No fighting when company is here.”

“Caitlin’s not company,” Jordan denied. His big grin warmed her chilled heart. “Caitlin is family.”

“That she is, son,” Stan agreed. He pushed the board away, then stood to press a light kiss against his daughter-in-law’s cheek. “That she is. As my daughter she should learn how to play chess, don’t you think, Eliza?”

Eliza nodded absently. “I suppose so. Though it’s a rather boring game, I always think.”

When Stan and Jordan would have protested at such heresy, she cut across their objections by urging everyone into the family room. Minutes later she and Robyn passed around her special blueberry pie and ice cream. As they ate, they talked, one voice over another, changing subjects faster than lightning. At one point Caitlin found herself involved in three separate conversations. She couldn’t help but grin when Stan got so involved in Olivia’s story to her that he ignored Jordan’s diatribe completely.