Believe in Me: A Rosewood Novel (32 page)

O
VER THE NEXT WEEK
Jordan hardly recognized herself. From Margot, Jade, and Travis’s reactions, it was clear that the careful, composed façade she’d created over the past year had developed some very visible cracks. With everyone except the children, with whom she managed to exert a modicum of self-control and behave like the mother they knew and not some monstrous impostor, she was cross, impatient, irritable … a truly nasty piece of work.

Her newfound meanness followed her like a shadow, making Margot and Travis skirt her warily and prompting Jade to pronounce with astonishment on Thursday morning, “Wow, Jordan, you’re really tapping into your inner witch.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Jade. And I still won’t go to Steadman’s to pick up a ratcatcher for you. I’ve got Max’s picnic, the kids’ stuff to pack, and I have to get the orders in for all the bathrooms because Owen’s moved ahead of schedule in the demo work.” Owen, suddenly obsessed with getting the renovation completed in record time, was pushing everyone hard, including himself. She suspected that the only reason the master bathroom was still intact was because he used it.

“Fine. Whatever. I guess I’ll find time between school, teaching your kids to ride, and helping Travis and Andy out while Margot’s in New York doing the shoot for
W
with Charlie Ayer. Oh, and did I forget that AP exams are coming up? Guess I’ll manage to squeeze in a couple of hours reviewing for them.”

“I’m sure you will. And don’t forget your appointment with the college counselor. You might want to crack open the college guide Margot bought for you.”

For that reminder Jordan received a look that, had she been on the receiving end of it a week earlier, would have sent her running to Steadman’s and buying every sleeveless ratcatcher Adam had in stock. Today she didn’t back down an inch, merely raised a mocking brow in return.

An irate Jade had stomped out of the kitchen, slamming the back door to the mudroom with enough force to rattle the windows. That she didn’t flinch was additional proof that Jade was right: Jordan
had
discovered her inner witch. Not only that, she could point to its cause. Men.

Two in particular were to blame. For when Jordan wasn’t giving Jade serious competition in aiming knife-sharp comments at nearly anyone within range, she was indulging in truly bitchy thoughts about Richard and Owen.

With each passing hour, she resented Richard’s plea to begin taking the children for the weekends more and more. Anticipating the pain of being without them was bad enough. She knew that when Friday afternoon came and they all drove off, her heart was going to be ripped out of her chest. Her identity, her sense of self, would be torn from her, too. How was she to survive the seventy-two hours they were gone? How was she going to endure this happening repeatedly? Every time Richard telephoned, to check on food preferences for the kids, what size diapers to buy for Olivia, and their current favorite movie, she had to tamp down on the urge to snarl that nothing he did or bought could make up for destroying their family, so it hardly mattered if he and Cynthia stocked the creamy peanut butter and blueberry jam that Max loved.

As for Owen, where to begin with her list of grievances? How about the fact that whenever he came near she became as twitchy and jumpy as one of their mares coming into heat. If she disliked the condition, she positively despised
its cause: her inability to stop thinking about the weight of Owen’s solid length covering her. Because of him, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to play Twister again. So damn him for that.

Owen’s kiss in her bedroom—Lord, that day seemed so long ago, yet it was as fresh in her mind as if it had occurred only minutes before—had rocked her with its potency, her first sensual encounter since divorcing Richard. Jordan recalled how disconcerting it had felt to be in his arms, to have his lips touch hers, to taste him while the intoxicating strength of his body pressed into her. Owen’s clever mouth and hands had thrilled her, and yet the foreignness of his embrace had been troubling, too. When she felt the unmistakable evidence of his arousal, she experienced a surge of panic at the passion flaring to life inside her for someone who was a virtual stranger. Someone she wasn’t even sure she liked.

Owen was no longer that man. He was more familiar and far more attractive to her. Not physically more attractive, a near impossibility considering how much his dark chiseled features, keen gaze, and honed physique appealed to her. While he had character flaws aplenty, who didn’t, it was difficult to focus on them when all she could think of was the glorious sensation of his weight on her, the heat of his body melting hers. Although he’d been sprawled over her for at most three seconds, within that brief space of time she’d felt so deliciously
alive
. So double damn Owen for making her achingly aware of how desperately untouched she felt, for forcing her to confront the dry desert her life had become, and for making her realize how much she thirsted for the delicious pleasure of making love to a man.

And triple damn him, because while she desired him, she was painfully conscious of how ill-equipped she was to go about rectifying the current situation.

It was one thing to be an unattached, vigorous, sexy, too-handsome-for-his-own-good, thirtysomething male; Owen
had no worries about his desirability. But she’d had three babies and, as she’d taken to undressing to stare broodingly in her bedroom mirror before crawling under the bed-sheets, had the body to prove it. Her breasts had changed size and shape so many times, it was a miracle they weren’t hanging down to her belly button. In this age of silicone and surgical enhancements, they would no doubt appear to an experienced and discriminating eye as worn and used as the rest of her. Owen, damn his gold-chipped eyes, was far too discerning not to notice.

But even if by some miracle of nature she’d gone through childbirth three times and emerged a toned, bouncy-buxom, red-hot mama, she doubted that she’d be better equipped mentally to go about ending her celibate status.

What was she supposed to do? March up to Owen and demand to do it on the Oriental? Yeah, right.

Which meant her new mean-bitch attitude was here to stay.

Perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing, she thought when Friday afternoon arrived alarmingly quickly and Kate and Max had now become as off-kilter as she, rushing to the window every other minute in the hopes of catching sight of Richard’s car emerging from the allée of chestnut trees. Olivia, who, of course, had no real conception of what was going on, happily joined in the tearing to and fro of her older siblings. When their twentieth trip to the window hit the jackpot, Kate and Max let loose with happy cries of “He’s here! Daddy’s here!” as their sneakers pounded the parquet in an ecstatic jig. It was only the foulness of her mood that kept her from bursting into tears and clutching her babies to her breast.

Richard had a new Volvo SUV that would easily hold the kids and their paraphernalia. She steeled herself for the sight of him and Cynthia exiting the upscale family car, ready to take her children away and begin their new happy
shiny relationship, and expelled a relieved breath when she saw that instead of Cynthia it was Susannah, the sitter they’d had in D.C., who was accompanying him.

Nonetheless it was like having a hundred needles pierce her heart as she made herself greet her ex-husband and former babysitter.

“Hi, they’re all ready as you can see.” Kate and Max had dragged their small nylon bags onto the porch and down the steps. In his enthusiasm, Max had even gone back for Olivia’s bag. “Susannah, it’s good to see you. I love your new hair style. You look great.” Richard did, too, with his Hawaiian tan, but she tried to avoid looking at him.

Bringing Susannah was actually an inspired idea, Jordan realized. She dispelled the awkwardness that threatened by rushing over to Jordan and kissing her. “It’s great to see you, too,” she said, beaming. “And the kids, they’ve gotten so big! Gosh, I’ve missed you guys!” she said, bending down to give Max and Kate two quick hugs. To Olivia, she gave another broad smile. “Hi, Olivia, my name’s Susannah. I used to take care of you when you were a little baby.”

Olivia, bless her sunny disposition, shoved her Elmo doll at Susannah and began, in her inimitable fashion, to tell her all about how much she liked Elmo and Cookie Monster.

While Susannah nodded and made the appropriate noises, Richard was busy fielding questions from his two older children, who wanted to know about Hawaii and the new house they were going to. But Jordan caught the quick glances he stole at Olivia while talking to his two older children. He hardly knew his youngest daughter.

The bitch in Jordan wondered whether he was going to follow Susannah’s example and bend down and reintroduce himself to his daughter. It would serve him right to have to say the words, “Hi, remember me? I’m your daddy. I took you out to the Shake Shack for ice cream the last time I was here.”

But while it would have given her a certain vindictive
pleasure to make this difficult for him, she had to do her part for the children’s sake, for their happiness and ease, and ensure this crucial step in the transition went smoothly.

“Olivia, sweetie, why don’t you show Daddy Elmo, too? He loves
Sesame Street.
”

Always happy to expand the
Sesame Street
fan base, she toddled over to Richard, Elmo in her outstretched hand.

She was unable to do more than watch Richard’s sandy brown head meet Olivia’s tow-headed crown as he knelt to better examine the plush toy before she had to avert her gaze, blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay at the sight of him attempting to bond with his little daughter. Turning away, she began carrying the bags Max had dropped on the ground over to the rear of the Volvo. Following her cue, Susannah opened the rear passenger door that already had a booster seat for Kate and two car seats for Max and Olivia.

“Max, your dad placed you and Kate on either side of Olivia because he thought you might like to look out the window. Is that okay?”

Max looked into the car’s interior and solemnly nodded his approval of the seating arrangements. He was so sweet and loving, Jordan thought, her throat tightening dangerously. Determined not to break down in front of them, she swallowed forcibly.

“Okay, then,” she said, managing to sound fairly normal, “let me give you a kiss good-bye before you go with Daddy.” Kate came running over.

“Bye, Mommy.”

“Good-bye, sweetheart,” she whispered fiercely. “You be good and help Daddy and—Cynthia—with Max and Olivia.”

She said much the same to Max, and by the time she held Olivia to her, kissing her chubby neck that smelled of the baby powder she’d used to change her, she felt like she was about to shatter into tiny pieces. Passing Olivia into Richard’s waiting hands, she met his gaze briefly before looking away.

“Jordan, both Cyn and I are really grateful for how generous you’re being. Cynthia particularly wanted me to make sure you knew how much we appreciate this.”

She nodded jerkily.

“We’ll call as soon as we arrive,” he said quietly.

The arm that waved good-bye as the car doors were shut and Richard drove away with her children was as leaden as her heart.

It was a very good thing that Margot, Travis, and Jade had tactfully decided to absent themselves, remaining down at the barns while Richard collected the children. The car finally out sight, they weren’t there to witness Jordan crumpling onto the porch’s bottom step and bawling like a baby.

If they noticed her swollen, red-rimmed eyelids when she entered the main barn an hour and a half later, her sisters wisely avoided any remarks. “Did the kids get off all right?” Margot asked.

“Yes, I just spoke with them. They’ve arrived safe and sound and are going out for ice cream after dinner.”

“Huh. Well, Olivia won’t sleep a wink with all that sugar messing with her system,” Jade predicted darkly.

Jordan’s brows rose in astonishment. But she decided it wasn’t worth mentioning that this was a bit rich coming from someone who could easily lay claim to the title of Miss Sugar Consumption.

Jade’s comment achieved the near impossible: Margot looked distinctly unmodel-like, her mouth hanging open in dumb shock. And Jordan caught Travis hiding a grin as he made a careful study of the toe of his field boot.

Seconds passed with no one knowing quite how to respond to a Jade from an alternate universe, one who sounded like the FDA’s newest spokesperson, when Ned cleared his throat.

“Glad you came down, Miss Jordan. Andy was supposed to take Saxon out for a hack this afternoon but Night Wing’s come into heat, so Travis needs him to ride Nocturne before
his date with her in the breeding shed. Nocturne’s a little less rattled about doing the deed when he’s been worked first.”

He pulled out his tin of tobacco and busied himself with scooping out a fingerful, but Jordan didn’t miss the color on his cheeks. That the old man who’d been breeding horses for more than fifty years could still blush was incredibly sweet. “So do you mind taking Saxon out for a spin? It’s a beautiful afternoon. He really needs a break from the exercise ring to keep him fresh during the show season.”

She wondered how long it had taken Ned, Andy, and her family to come up with this idea, and while part of her longed to point out that a good gallop over hill and dale would
not
heal the pain ripping through her, she recognized that taking Saxon out for a ride would get her away from their collective and, at the moment, suffocating concern. “Of course, Ned. Anything to help Night Wing and Nocturne’s afternoon fling in the shed.”

“That’s swell of you, Miss Jordan. I’ll go get him tacked for you.”

“Thank you, Ned, but I can do it. You have enough to do getting Night Wing ready,” she replied. And if she were busy grooming and tacking Saxon, she wouldn’t be subjected to any more of her sisters’ worried looks.

It was irksome to admit that Ned’s solution to life’s ills—hop on a horse and go for a heart-racing gallop—could improve her mood, but the cross-country ride did help.