A Kingsbury Collection

  Jordan … her long-ago best friend …

  When he finally spotted her she knew that she’d been right that first night in the diner parking lot. No matter what words came out of his mouth when the cameras were rolling, he was the same Jordan Riley she’d loved as a girl. When he patted the empty place beside him on the bench, she came to him willingly.

  “I thought it was you.” She took the seat, careful to keep her distance, angling her body so she could see him. Although they sat in darkness, the stars cast enough light so she could make out his features.

  “I must have walked right past you. Were you sitting on the bench over there?” His voice was quiet and kind, and Faith felt herself relax.

  “Yeah. It’s been kind of crazy lately.” She stared across the expanse of frosty grass toward the towering plywood walls. “I guess I needed some time alone.”

  Jordan followed her gaze and waited a moment. “I know what you mean.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence, and Faith could sense him searching for something to say. Something that didn’t involve the statue or the fact that common sense said they were crazy to be sitting on a bench in a hidden corner of the park in the middle of the night.

  He turned to her and seemed to force a smile. “Tell me about the little Asian girl.”

  Her gaze fell, and she tried to still her racing heart. “Rosa Lee?”

  “I don’t know … ” He changed positions so that he was closer than before. “She was by your side at the protest the other day. I saw her with you on the news.”

  Faith gulped and tried to concentrate. Something about being in his presence was making her feel thirteen again, like they were only pretending to be adults locked in a legal battle. “She’s … she’s a foster child. Sometimes she reminds me of you.” Suddenly her heart soared at the chance to share her deepest feelings with him. “She wants me to adopt her.”

  Jordan’s smile seemed more genuine this time. “That’s wonderful. Will you? Adopt her, I mean?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She felt the corners of her mouth lift some. “Actually, I’m praying about it.” Faith thought of the little girl and how close they’d grown in the past weeks. “I keep waiting for a real family to show some interest. You know, with a mom and dad. I think she deserves that.” She hesitated, not sure if she should tell him. “Besides, my next job might take me away … ”

  He searched her eyes. “Away?”

  She nodded. “I got a call today from the station’s competition. A national network. They’re considering me for a spot.”

  Jordan’s eyes lit up, and for the first time that night his grin reminded her of the boy he’d once been. “For the national news? Faith, that’s great!” He reached for her hands and squeezed them, then as the moment faded he let go and crossed his arms tightly against his chest.

  Faith couldn’t bring herself to tell him the rest of the conversation. The network executive had acknowledged that Faith was embroiled in a national legal battle. “Be careful,” he’d told her. “Don’t do anything too extreme. And keep a low profile. I have to be honest with you, prayer rallies, protests, that kind of thing won’t look good, Ms. Evans.”

  She and Jordan fell quiet, and an icy breeze kicked up a pile of long-dead leaves. Faith angled her head, studying Jordan. She wanted desperately to know the thoughts that filled his head. Was he here to strategize his next move? Or was he drawn to the past the way she was so often these days? Talk to me, Jordan … like old times … “What are you thinking?” Her voice was soft, allowing him the right to refuse to answer.

  He shrugged and met her gaze. “About Heidi.”

  Faith’s heart melted. He was the same; deep inside he was still the same. “I think about her a lot. Especially since … ”

  “I know,” Jordan finished for her. Their voices were quiet, like the night around them. Even the breeze had stilled, and time seemed strangely suspended. “Since that night at the diner.”

  Faith nodded. “She loved you very much, Jordan.”

  He sighed and narrowed his eyes. “It was my fault what happened. I let her down.”

  Faith shook her head. “None of it was your fault. The state took you to separate homes and even if you’d—”

  “No.” His tone was gentle but insistent. “You don’t know the whole story.”

  Faith thought about that for a moment and angled her head, trying to understand. For all the success Jordan had managed to achieve professionally, she suddenly knew he had no one to talk to, no friend like she’d been to him that year before he was taken from his home. She thought of a hundred things she could say. Talk to me, Jordan. Share your heart with me. So what if we’re enemies in the morning? Right now we’re thirteen again, and you can tell me whatever’s on your heart. She swallowed hard and let her thoughts fade. “Tell me, Jordan. I have all night.”

  And to her surprise, he did.

  Drawing a slow breath he stared straight ahead and talked as though the events were only just now happening, as though he could see them unfolding before his eyes the way they had that terrible year. “They put me in a foster home, and every hour I asked about Heidi. Two days passed, and then three, and I overheard the lady on the phone. I don’t know who she was talking to, but she said she didn’t think they could find a place for Heidi and me, for both of us. She said it could be weeks before I saw my sister again.”

  Jordan paused, and Faith allowed the silence. He closed his eyes as though the events of the past were settling into their proper order. Finally he looked at her and exhaled, his breath hanging in the air. “On the third day I set out on my own. The man of the house had told me where Heidi was staying—with a family on Birch Street. I figured I knew my way to Birch Street and even if I had to knock on every door I’d find her eventually.” He released a frustrated huff. “I should have known better. One call to my social worker, and I might have had a visit with her that night. Maybe they didn’t know how badly I needed to see her.”

  Without thinking, Faith reached out and took Jordan’s hand in hers, wrapping her gloved fingers around his. “That’s why you got sent to the boys’ camp?”

  Jordan gripped her hand, his gaze still straight ahead. “I wasn’t gone an hour when the police came cruising up behind me. I’d almost made it to Birch; I was so close I could practically see Heidi waiting for me, calling my name. When the police asked me to get in the car, I ran the other direction.” He released a sad laugh. “I was thirteen. What chance did I have at outrunning two police officers? They caught me, cuffed me, and tossed me in the squad car. That afternoon I was shipped thirty minutes away to the Southridge Boys’ Camp.”

  Faith felt suddenly awkward holding Jordan’s hand and she quietly pulled it back. “You can’t blame yourself for that, Jordan. You were doing what you thought was best.”

  “I should have been patient. Who knows?” He turned and locked eyes with her. “Everything might have been different.” He paused, his eyes more intense than they’d been all night. “Absolutely everything.”

  Faith thought she understood what he was saying. If he’d had the chance to grow up alongside Heidi he would not have held the anger he held today. He might not have become a human rights attorney, and perhaps … perhaps she and Jordan might even have stayed friends or … She refused to dwell on the possibilities. “Did you … at the camp, did they tell you anything about Heidi?”

  “Not a thing.” The muscles in Jordan’s jaw flexed and he fell silent. He turned his attention to the spread of grass in front of him. “The camp was like a prison. Up at seven, chores till nine. A bowl of slop for breakfast each morning, lessons through the early afternoon, and four hours of hard labor before dinner.”

  Faith felt tears in her eyes. That was the type of life he’d been forced to live in the months after losing his mother? After losing Heidi? After losing his home and Faith’s family and everything that had mattered to him? The reality of it tore at her heart, and she pictured Rosa Lee … stranded
in the system, without a family. Where would she wind up when she got old enough to have a bad attitude? At a similar camp, fighting for her place among a houseful of angry young women? The thought made her shudder. “Oh, Jordan … I had no idea.”

  He nodded, his expression unchanged. “The boys at the camp were tougher than I was—serious hard-core kids. Most of them were drug addicts or thieves, guys destined for prison. I thought about Mom and Heidi—” he looked at her—“and you … every day, every hour. But there was nothing I could do about it. It took all my strength just to survive.”

  She always believed he’d remembered her, that he thought of her in those days after he was taken from his home. But this was the first time he’d said so, and a warmth made its way from Faith’s heart out across her body. “You thought of me, Jordan? Really?”

  He stared at her, and there were tears in his eyes. “Every day, Faith. I kept thinking … ” He swallowed hard. “I kept thinking you and your parents would show up at the camp and take me home, rescue me from that awful place and help me find Heidi.”

  “We wanted to … ” Her voice drifted. “I talked to my mom … she’s in Chicago helping my aunt. She said they hadn’t called social services because they were afraid once the state got involved it would be impossible to adopt you.” She looked at the tops of the distant trees. “I guess my dad wanted to talk to an attorney friend of his about adopting both of you privately. But the state stepped in before he could do anything.”

  Jordan shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Things happened the way they did for a reason, right?”

  Again she wanted to take him in her arms and hold him until the hurt faded from his heart. But she had a feeling it would take a lifetime, and they didn’t have that. Morning was fast approaching. In six hours this strange time between them borrowed from a place where yesterday lived would be all but forgotten.

  Come morning, they’d take up their places on opposite sides of the battle once more.

  She decided to be honest with him. “Jordan … ”

  He turned to her and smiled sadly. “I’m sorry. It’s late and cold. I’m sure you don’t want to hear all this.”

  “No, I do … I just … ” He was looking at her, waiting for her to finish. “I thought about you, too. Every day.”

  He searched her eyes. “I always wondered if you heard about the accident. For a month after it happened I expected to see you and your family.” He smiled and gazed up at the midnight sky. “I pictured your dad striding up to the front office, demanding they let me go, insisting that the camp wasn’t a safe place for kids like me.” He shook his head. “But the truth is you probably never even heard about it.”

  Faith’s eyes grew wide. An accident? At the camp? “Wait a minute, I do remember something about it.”

  Jordan lowered his eyebrows and bit his lower lip, stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his parka. “It was awful, Faith.” Even in the shadows she could see heartache settle over his face. “There was a cave built into the side of a ravine, maybe a hundred yards from the main camp. Over the years people used it as a trash dump.” He paused and released a long breath, gritting his teeth in a way that made his jaw more pronounced. “That afternoon … the owners of the camp decided it was time to clean it out.”

  Faith racked her brain, trying to remember where she’d heard these details before. She waited while Jordan found the strength to continue. “The cave was more of a tunnel … I don’t know, maybe twenty feet straight into the side of the ravine. Trouble was it’d been raining for three weeks before they ordered the cleanup. We were an hour into the job when dirt began falling from the ceiling.”

  Jordan shook his head, and his features looked chalky white, even in the shadows. “I remember every horrifying detail.” He paused and looked at her again. “Another boy and I were near the entrance. We barely got out. I mean, we had dirt on our backs and our legs were buried as the cave collapsed.” He stared at the ground near his feet. “They used shovels and got me and the boy next to me out first. Then they started digging for the others. Seventeen boys. All of them trapped beneath tons of dirt.”

  He was silent for a moment, lost in the memory, and Faith barely noticed the tears that trickled onto her cheeks. No wonder Jordan’s so angry … She wanted to ask the Lord why—why had He allowed the string of tragedies to happen to a boy so young, one so new in his belief? But something deep inside her lacked the confidence to even approach God with the issue. She shifted her attention back to Jordan. “I can’t imagine.”

  Jordan nodded slowly, thoughtfully and brought his eyes back up to hers. “For ten minutes we could hear the faint, muffled cries of the trapped boys. The camp owner dug as fast as he could, and after a few minutes firemen arrived and joined the effort.” He shook his head, his eyes flat. “There was nothing they could do; it was too late.”

  Suddenly she could see the headlines, hear her parents talking about the accident. As she drifted back to that year, she gasped and her hand flew across her mouth. “I remember it now! The newspaper said you died!” She stared straight ahead, digging her fingers into the roots of her hair, searching her mind for details she hadn’t remembered until now. Her eyes flew back to his. “My parents read the article and told me that night. They said they weren’t sure it was true and the next day they made some calls and found out you were okay.”

  “The paper said I died?” Jordan’s eyebrows lifted. “You’re kidding?” He bit the inside of his lip and his eyes grew even wider. “Hey, what if Heidi heard the same thing?”

  Faith caught his enthusiasm. “You know, you might be right. Maybe she thinks you’re dead, and that’s why she hasn’t tried to find you.”

  “I’ve looked up her records, but never mine. What if somehow they got it mixed up and—” He stopped, and his shoulders slumped as he leaned back against the bench once more. Faith watched the despair settle over his face. “They wouldn’t have gotten a thing like that wrong. The papers might have made a mistake, but not the state.”

  He looked at his hands. “I spent a night in the hospital while they looked me over. The next day I was moved to a boys’ camp in New Jersey.” He leaned his head back some and looked at Faith again. “I asked about Heidi every day for three months until finally the camp warden told me not to ask anymore.” Jordan huffed, and Faith could see the bitterness in his tensed features. “He threatened to send me to a camp in Montana if I spoke her name again.”

  Faith pictured him, only months after losing his mother and sister, stuck at a camp so far from home with people who neither knew nor loved him. “I wish … I wish we could have found you, Jordan.”

  He shrugged, and she knew he was letting her see into the very depths of his heart. “I kept thinking they’d bring Heidi to me, find us a home together. But one year led to the next, and in no time I was finished with high school and playing college baseball. By that point I think I figured no one wanted to find me. I sort of had to let the old Jordan Riley die … ” He studied Faith’s eyes. “Know what I mean?”

  She shook her head and felt her heart sink. This was his way of telling her he’d changed, at least from his perspective. But it wasn’t true; the old Jordan hadn’t died. She’d sat right next to him for the past half hour.

  Jordan’s heart raced deep within him at Faith’s nearness, at the desire he felt for her. How had he gotten in this position? How had things gotten so mixed up, so far from what he wanted?

  He wanted to pull her close and tell her the way he was feeling, but how could he? Nothing lasting could ever come from a relationship between them. They were complete opposites.

  But, oh! What she did to him, sitting so close he could smell the subtle sweetness of her skin.

  “What are you thinking?”

  Jordan looked at her, and a flash of anger pierced his soul. What was he doing here, anyway? This was all about the court case. Faith didn’t have feelings for him. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

  Sh
e jerked back an inch or two and knit her eyebrows together as though he’d suddenly switched languages on her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He expelled the air in his lungs and dug his elbows into his thighs. “I’m sorry. I’m not making sense.”

  Faith was quiet for a minute. Then in a voice soft as silk she whispered words that felt like balm to his empty heart: “The old Jordan isn’t dead. He’s right here.”

  Get up and leave! She’s trying to change you, make you into something you’re not! She’s one of them, remember?

  The silent, angry whispers pecked at his soul, but he ignored them. It didn’t matter what her motives were, or what she was trying to do to him, or which side she was aligned with. He looked up and their eyes locked. Slowly she slid closer and slipped off her gloves. Then she lifted her hand to his face, framing his jaw with the most delicate touch he’d ever known. “He’s not dead, Jordan.”

  He searched her eyes, painfully aware he was losing control at an alarming rate. His words slipped out before he could stop them. “Sometimes I think, maybe … maybe you’re right.”

  Faith’s eyes filled with tears, and suddenly Jordan was sure beyond any doubt that the woman before him had no ulterior motives. Rather the two of them were caught in a time warp, transported back to that long-ago summer when they were two kids learning about love.

  “Until tonight,” she went on, “I thought it might be true, that the old you really had died. But now … ”

  He drew closer to her, savoring the feel of her hand on his face as she talked.

  “Seeing you here, like this, I realized that somewhere inside of you the old Jordan Riley still remembers.”

  The night air was cold and oddly calm. Jordan looked into Faith’s eyes, trying to memorize the moment and wondering if it wasn’t all some kind of a dream. Finally, when he couldn’t hold back another moment, he took her chin in his hands, allowing his fingers to caress the sides of her face. “I wanted to win this battle, Faith. For a long time I’ve wanted to win it. But I never meant to hurt you. I had no idea … ”