Heartsong Read Free

ago.
    “Lombard Street.” He groaned at his own stupidity. “I’d heard so much about San Francisco’s famous curved street and decided to take it as fast as possible. I didn’t make the last curve.”
    Skye had read an account of the accident in the morning paper. The crazy fool was lucky not to have been killed—or to have killed someone else. Lombard Street, with eight consecutive turns at ninety-degree angles, was difficult to maneuver at the best of times. “Did you enjoy the novelty of reading about yourself this morning?” she asked, hiding her disapproval of such irresponsible behavior.
    Some emotion flickered in his eyes, and for a brief second Skye thought it might be alarm.
    “Are you a teacher, like Skye?” Billy interjected his own curiosity.
    “No. I work for a radio station.”
    Billy’s voice rose eagerly. “Are you a disc jockey?”
    The pause was only momentary. “Among other things,” he remarked absently. “You say there was an accident report in the morning paper?”
    “Would you like a copy? I’m sure there’s an extra paper in the lobby. I can get itif you like.”
    “Please.” He sounded grateful.
    Skye returned a few minutes later with a section of the paper. It was only a short account of the accident, a few sentences that didn’t give his name.
    Jordan seemed to relax and joked, “What does a man have to do in this town to get his name in the paper?”
    Gently Skye placed her hand on his arm. “Has your family been contacted?”
    The slant of Jordan’s mouth became cynical. “As there is only my mother, I can’t see much point in distressing her over a few scratches.”
    A badly broken arm could hardly be considered a scratch. Nonetheless, Skye laughed lightly. “Obviously the poor man has been jilted, Billy. He just hasn’t learned to trust again. Or as Sally would say—you’re either separated, divorced, or just plain unmarriageable.”
    “At thirty-six, I suspect she’s right.” But Jordan didn’t enlighten her about which category he fit into.
    Betty Fisher, Billy’s mother, arrived as Billy finished his meal, and she wheeled her son into the large recreation/visiting room at the end of the hall.
    “You coming, Skye?” Billy asked, eager for her to join the children and play the piano.
    “Not until later; I’ll only be a few minutes,” she promised.
    Giving Jordan the last bit of his dinner, she asked, “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
    “When do I get dessert?” The inflection of his low voice said he wasn’t asking about the apple pie.
    “Soon,” she lied. “I’ll take your tray to the cart and be right back.”
    Skye lingered outside the room for several seconds gathering her courage. The I ATE THE WHOLE THING button was clenched tightly in the palm of her hand. Unsteady fingers looped a long strand of honey-blond hair behind her ear. Jordan Kiley wasn’t going to find humor in her little deception.
    His eyes probed her as she entered, but she purposely avoided eye contact with him.
    “I didn’t think you would come back.” His voice was cool.
    “Of course I was coming back. I always keep my promises,” she said, finding it difficult to resume her charade. “Now, close your eyes,” she whispered seductively, and bent over him.
    He complied, surrounding her lithe form with a bandaged arm.
    For a fleeting second Skye considered kissing him, but quickly changed her mind. Instead she attached the button to his hospital gown and easily slipped from his arm.
    Jordan caught his breath and lunged for her. The attempt to catch her was ludicrous, and Skye stood only inches from his reach, her blue eyes triumphant. A certain pride at having outwitted him prompted her mouth to curve into an irritating Mona Lisa smile.
    Jordan grinned suddenly; all signs of anger were quickly erased from his features. “Clever trick, Pollyanna, but have no doubts I will collect what is due me.”
    Skye realized he was the type of man who ultimately got what