head, his eyes a well of sadness. “They prob-ably told your parents I was a risk. By that point they'd already moved me to the boys’ camp.”
How awful that Jordan had been sent to a camp for delin-quent boys when all he'd wanted was a chance to be with his sis-ter.” I'm so sorry, Jordan.”
He drew a deep breath and smiled—but the smile didn't seem genuine. It had a polished, practiced look about it—as though he were familiar with masking his real feelings. “Enough about me,what about you?” He reached across the table and squeezed her hands gently before pulling back and finishing his coffee. The feel of his fingers against hers sent electrical currents up her arms and down her spine. “What's the long story behind not being married?”
Faith was completely flustered. The touch of Jordan's hands on hers had brought back feelings for him she hadn't known still existed. Logic told her that at twelve, thirteen years old one wasn't wise enough to understand love. But the reality lay in the feelings assaulting her heart. She had cared for Jordan deeply, with a wholehearted innocent devotion that is possible only for young people. Indeed she had loved him at a time when life was most impressionable. Now that they were adults, the memory of those earlier feelings—combined with the heady closeness of sit-ting across from him—left her unsure what to say or do next.
Help me get a grip here, God…
.
He was waiting for her response. “Okay but tell me if you get bored.” She grinned at him and the way he looked at her made her cheeks grow hot again.
“Trust me, Faith, nothing you say could bore me.”
She inhaled and forced her heart to beat normally Then she told him how she'd studied journalism in college and started as a sports reporter. Two years later she fell hard for a professional football player.
Faith hesitated and Jordan raised an eyebrow. “Anyone I'd know?”
Everyone knew Mike, but Faith wasn't ready to go into details about her relationship with him. Even now it was too hard to share over a casual cup of coffee. Especially with Jordan Riley “It isn't important.”
The warmth in his expression told her he understood.
“Then I had my accident.”
Concern fell across Jordan's face. “Accident?”
She nodded. “Three years ago. I was driving home from work and a little boy ran out in front of me. I swerved and missed him, but hit a power pole. Wrapped the car around it. They pried me from the wreck, and I was in a coma for two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” He ran his hand over his hair. “Faith, you're lucky you lived.”
Faith pictured the people who had filled her room the day she came to, people who had been holding vigil since the acci-dent.” Not lucky, blessed. I had people praying for me around the clock, Jordan.” She hesitated, surprised at how emotional she still felt when she thought back to that time in her life. “My dad put together a prayer chain, and for two weeks people took half hour shifts praying for me. Not a moment went by when some-one wasn't praying.”
“Hmm.” The muscles in Jordan's jaw flexed. “That's nice.” Something hard flashed in his eyes, and Faith couldn't decide what it was—but she had the oddest feeling that she'd offended him somehow. Strange. Jordan was a believer; certainly he wouldn't have been put off by prayer.
“The doctors said it was a miracle. It took nearly a year of operations and therapy for me to learn how to eat and walk and be independent again. When I got out of the hospital, I moved back in with my parents, and two years ago I finally felt good as new. That's when I took the job at WKZN.”
Jordan eased himself forward as they both accepted coffee refills from the waitress.” Lots of people are never the same after an accident like that.”
“All credit goes to God. Without His help I wouldn't have made it. That's for sure.”
“Right.”
An awkward silence filled the distance between them, andFaith studied him
How awful that Jordan had been sent to a camp for delin-quent boys when all he'd wanted was a chance to be with his sis-ter.” I'm so sorry, Jordan.”
He drew a deep breath and smiled—but the smile didn't seem genuine. It had a polished, practiced look about it—as though he were familiar with masking his real feelings. “Enough about me,what about you?” He reached across the table and squeezed her hands gently before pulling back and finishing his coffee. The feel of his fingers against hers sent electrical currents up her arms and down her spine. “What's the long story behind not being married?”
Faith was completely flustered. The touch of Jordan's hands on hers had brought back feelings for him she hadn't known still existed. Logic told her that at twelve, thirteen years old one wasn't wise enough to understand love. But the reality lay in the feelings assaulting her heart. She had cared for Jordan deeply, with a wholehearted innocent devotion that is possible only for young people. Indeed she had loved him at a time when life was most impressionable. Now that they were adults, the memory of those earlier feelings—combined with the heady closeness of sit-ting across from him—left her unsure what to say or do next.
Help me get a grip here, God…
.
He was waiting for her response. “Okay but tell me if you get bored.” She grinned at him and the way he looked at her made her cheeks grow hot again.
“Trust me, Faith, nothing you say could bore me.”
She inhaled and forced her heart to beat normally Then she told him how she'd studied journalism in college and started as a sports reporter. Two years later she fell hard for a professional football player.
Faith hesitated and Jordan raised an eyebrow. “Anyone I'd know?”
Everyone knew Mike, but Faith wasn't ready to go into details about her relationship with him. Even now it was too hard to share over a casual cup of coffee. Especially with Jordan Riley “It isn't important.”
The warmth in his expression told her he understood.
“Then I had my accident.”
Concern fell across Jordan's face. “Accident?”
She nodded. “Three years ago. I was driving home from work and a little boy ran out in front of me. I swerved and missed him, but hit a power pole. Wrapped the car around it. They pried me from the wreck, and I was in a coma for two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” He ran his hand over his hair. “Faith, you're lucky you lived.”
Faith pictured the people who had filled her room the day she came to, people who had been holding vigil since the acci-dent.” Not lucky, blessed. I had people praying for me around the clock, Jordan.” She hesitated, surprised at how emotional she still felt when she thought back to that time in her life. “My dad put together a prayer chain, and for two weeks people took half hour shifts praying for me. Not a moment went by when some-one wasn't praying.”
“Hmm.” The muscles in Jordan's jaw flexed. “That's nice.” Something hard flashed in his eyes, and Faith couldn't decide what it was—but she had the oddest feeling that she'd offended him somehow. Strange. Jordan was a believer; certainly he wouldn't have been put off by prayer.
“The doctors said it was a miracle. It took nearly a year of operations and therapy for me to learn how to eat and walk and be independent again. When I got out of the hospital, I moved back in with my parents, and two years ago I finally felt good as new. That's when I took the job at WKZN.”
Jordan eased himself forward as they both accepted coffee refills from the waitress.” Lots of people are never the same after an accident like that.”
“All credit goes to God. Without His help I wouldn't have made it. That's for sure.”
“Right.”
An awkward silence filled the distance between them, andFaith studied him
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