Accepting the Dream

By TJ Yeomans

With the birth of her second son, Jordan must adjust to the changes in her psychic abilities. Seeking answers from the past, Jordan learns of the others who had the Gift through the family history. The research reveals one psychic is born in each generation. Figuring such a child would be born years from now, Jordan is surprised when she senses the one who will carry the Gift next. Knowing his place, Frank begins to guide his wife as the extended family slowly learns of Jordan’s prediction. The news is received with mixed reactions.

The coming child wasn’t the only issue Frank and Jordan had to deal with. When Laura’s biological mother came back into their lives, Laura’s world is thrown out of balance. Turning to her parent, Laura tries to sort out her feelings where Renee is concerned and how to deal with the woman.

Follow along to see how Frank, Jordan, and Laura cope as they learn what the future holds in book six from the Out of Dream series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: TJ Yeomans
• Release date: Jun 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215148709

TJ Yeomans

Having a vivid imagination as a child, I began putting my ideas on paper in 2000. Since then I’ve had a lot of fun working with my characters as they tell their story. Now it’s time for them to venture out into the world for readers to enjoy. When I’m not at the keyboard, you can find me playing with fabrics to create fun and colorful quilts and other sewing projects.

Book preview

WINTER STILL HAD IT’S HOLD on the weather for being so late in February. A current storm was playing havoc with the town of Appian, dumping buckets of rain. And yet the nasty weather hadn’t deterred Tom Welsh from his mission. Traveling in his recently purchased C5 Corvette, he couldn’t help but admire the way even in the rain the silver-blue paint just shined. The storm had him leaving the top up, but he didn’t mind. He liked the way the car handled on the road and when summer came there’d be plenty of time to drive with the top down. Stroking his mustache, Tom coasted to a stop in front of a two-story residence. Flipping off the motor, he stared at the house that was currently a light brown with dark green trim.

The place had changed from the last time he’d seen it. The fresh paint wasn’t the only thing new, for a second level had been another addition. The set of windows on the upper floor sat open and the wind merrily tossed a pair of green curtains round. He wondered if the occupant inside was even aware of the chilly breeze blowing into the room above.

Deciding it was time, Tom reached for the package sitting on the seat beside him. Even though he was close to six feet, his movements were agile. The wind tossed his black hair madly in its fitful breeze. Brushing it out of his face, he wished he’d remembered a hat. Taking quick steps to avoid getting soaked by the rain, Tom made his way to the front door and wasn’t the least bit surprised when it opened, for the woman inside was a psychic.

Jordan Wilson stood there, her dark brown eyes held warmth and welcome. In her arms was a wiggling and rather unhappy infant. Standing under the porch eve, Tom stared at the child in his friend’s arm, then at the package in his hand. The contents inside were for a much older child. For the last few years, Tom had been living in Europe. On one of his trips back to the states, he had learned Jordan had had a son. By Tom’s estimation, the boy should have been a toddler.

Hi, Jordan said warmly. This is a pleasant surprise.

And so is this, Tom said, indicating the whimpering baby. My reports said you had a three-year-old.

Two and a half, Jordan corrected, then the door opened further as if to back up her statement. Standing at his mother’s side was the child in question. His bright hazel eyes stared up at the stranger. Hi, the boy called out happily.

Come in out of the cold and wet, Jordan invited, moving out of the way. Stepping inside, Tom felt the warmth of the house. He had only been in Jordan’s home a few times, but she kept a neat house, that was welcoming as well.

Two, Tom said as he shut the door behind him. You’ve been busy.

Actually three, Jordan corrected proudly, for her daughter was currently in school. Showing off her second son, Jordan titled the fussy baby back so Tom got a good look at the child. As if suddenly aware of a visitor, the baby quieted. Dark brown eyes stared up at the stranger intensely. The child had his mother’s face, but the light brown hair had come from his father. His older brother was the dead opposite, favoring his father, with Jordan’s darker brown hair.

This is Andrew, Jordan said, resting a hand on the boy’s head. And this little guy is his brother Mason. He’s wanting a change and a mid-morning snack.

Well, why don’t you run along. Andrew and I have man business, Tom explained, shaking the package. At the sound of his name, Andrew’s eyes lit up.

Jordan hesitated. She had always trusted Tom, but something was heavy on the man’s mind. Not sadness, but joy and hope. Leaving the two, she slipped into the back, cooing at her younger son.

As the two exited the room, Tom saw the dog, who was stretched out on the couch. Though the animal was relaxed, dark eyes were watchful. He knew of the animal and that the black sheepdog was well trained. To avoid a problem, Tom kept his moments casual.

Slipping off his coat, he laid in on the back of a chair before settling on the floor. Looking at the boy, Tom saw eager eyes watching him. Once down at the child’s level, he held out the package. Andrew was well-schooled when it came to wrapped boxes and energetically tore at the colorful paper. With delight, the boy clapped his hands. Inside the box was a shiny yellow dump truck. With impatience, Andrew tugged at the cardboard surrounding the truck inside. Frustrated, the child let out a squawk of complaint. Wiping out his pocketknife, Tom quickly freed the toy vehicle. Immediately Andrew was off, running happily while he pushed the truck around.

A quick scan of the room told Tom he had been right with his selection, for other vehicles of similar nature were scattered about. At that moment Jordan appeared in the doorway. Mason’s soft cries could be heard. Slightly nervous, Jordan spoke. Andrew, what do you say?

The boy looked up and turning to their visitor, muttered a quick thank you, before returning to his play.

Standing, Tom could see his friend’s uneasiness. If the baby needs to nurse, it won’t bother me, if it doesn’t you.

Smiling, Jordan settled into a rocker. Rising, Rascal trotted over to lay at his mistress’s feet. Tossing a light blanket over her shoulder, she slipped Mason underneath. There’s fresh coffee from this morning in the kitchen if you wish, Jordan invited.

Giving her some space, Tom wandered into the room. Sure enough, the pot on the coffee maker was more than half full, and still plenty warm. Unbeknownst to him, Jordan had taken to the habit of leaving it on until close to noon, for she often had company stop by. Even so, Tom quickly deduced the coffee was for visitors, for Jordan’s preference was tea. Glancing into the den he saw a cup resting on a stand that housed her computer. Curiosity had him wandering into the room.

Work was neatly laid out. Currently, she seemed to be constructing some type of catalog for a local store selling educational supplies. There was also a flyer next to the computer. Studying it, Tom remembered she did volunteer advertising work for a local acting guild running a summer program for children who were interested in performing in live theater. Picking up her mug, Tom returned to the kitchen. Quietly he set about freshening up his hostess's cup of tea.

There’s fresh cookies in the jar, Jordan called out.

The mention of food had her older son making a beeline for the kitchen, with Jordan’s four-legged companion right behind him. Tom let out a chuckle for both turned on the charm. Staring up at him with pleading eyes, both boy and dog waited patiently.

He can have one, and there’s a dog brisket tin on the counter.

Obliging, Tom handed the child what looked like a cookie with chunks of butterscotch morsels scattered through the treat. Unable to resist, Tom bit into one himself, while taking a treat out for the dog. With grace, Rascal took his milk bone, then dashed after his young master. Setting a few more cookies on a plate, Tom carried the refreshments into the living room.

Rocking gently, Jordan accepted the tea with her free hand. After sitting down on the couch, Tom snagged up a second cookie and bit in. God these are good. Tom watched as his friend smiled in appreciation of the compliment.

Sipping his coffee, Tom leaned back. So, how’s business?

Now the smile Jordan wore became awkward. Up and down, she said, patting the baby’s bottom. I had similar trouble when Andrew was born. People think it's so sweet when they hear you’ve had your baby, but want to know when you’re going back to work. Some get impatient, choosing to go elsewhere, while others keep calling daily until I get back onto their account. Mason is a month old now. Just the other day I let the word out that I’m starting things up again. Since then, the phone hasn’t stopped ringing.

Tom cocked his head as if listening, but didn’t hear any calls. Jordan giggled. I let most of them roll over onto voice mail. Letting out a sigh, she continued. I’m trying to set a routine, but you know kids.

All Tom could do was grin. I do. Got a couple of those myself, he said pointing to the child in Jordan’s arms. Surprise flashed on Jordan’s face. Tom had been seeing someone just before she had conceived Andrew. Things had looked pretty serious back then. He had told her, Ghislaine had two children of her own and he had been crazy about them. We hadn’t planned to have the little ones so close together, but I’ve now got two of each. And like any proud father, Tom pulled out his wallet.

The snapshot had been recently taken, showing off a very plain looking woman, who was impeccably dressed, holding two very young children in her lap. The boy looked to be about eighteen months, while his sister dressed all in pink had to be just a few weeks old. To the right and behind Ghislaine stood her son. From the age, he looked to be about twelve with his sister sitting in front. Jordan estimated the girl to be about ten. Tom himself stood next to the boy, one hand resting on the youngest’s shoulder, while the other lay lightly on his wife.

The couple had met while Tom had been doing a winery tour in France. Just before leaving, he told Jordan he had purchased a winery. Wanting to delve into something new, he was going to try his hand in the business. So, she mirrored back, how’s business in your neck of the woods?

The slight frown on his face told her the man wasn’t pleased. I’ll admit, it’s not what I expected. In the end, I left the winery in Ghishlaine’s brother’s hands. He’s making a pretty good go of it. If he plays his cards right, I might let him buy in, making him a partner and letting him have a bigger piece of the profits.

So, I take it you’re missing the states? Jordan surmised.

Light danced in Tom’s eyes. He had forgotten how easily Jordan picked up impressions. Busted. Actually, I am moving back. Ghislaine and the kids will join me as soon as I find a house.

And her family? Jordan inquired, for she couldn’t imagine making such an adjustment.

She has three brothers. The oldest I just told you about. Ghislaine’s next in line. The second brother is already here in the states, with the youngest in the France armed forces. As for her mother, she’s coming with us. I’ve got a lead on a house with a mother-in-law cottage attached to the garage. It’s a great place, already in pretty good condition. Needs a little work here and there, but I think Ghislaine and her mother will approve.

Shifting Mason up to her shoulder, she gently rubbed the baby’s back until there was a soft little burp. Taking advantage of Andrew running to Tom, distracting the man for a few seconds, Jordan shifted her son to her other breast.

So what has your interest now? Jordan asked.

Sidestepping the question, Tom asked, You heard about Hurly.

The name of their former boss was a jolt to Jordan’s system. Yes, she replied softly as grief for the loss of what she considered a great man washed through her. And I rest the blame squarely on his son. Sebastian should be drawn and quartered.

Drawn and quartered, Andrew repeated happily, then subside when his mother shook a finger at him. Laughing, Andrew took off with his new dump truck.

Turning back to her friend, Jordan continued. His father spent a lifetime building up Art Works and in less than a few years the son destroyed it. Hurly believed in his employees by giving them the freedom to do their best. In return, most of us gave him our loyalty. Instead of following his father's footsteps, Sebastian comes in heavy-handed and turns the place into a prison. In disgust, Jordan shook her head. You know he had a daughter, who believed in what her father was trying to do. Make a place pleasurable to work, then it becomes profitable for all involved. Did you ever meet her?

Once. She lives at the other end of the state and works for a very good advertising agency. She took the loss of her father almost as hard as her mother did. I was surprised you didn’t show up for the funeral.

A quick smile creased Jordan's lips. The day of their former boss’s death, Shannon had stopped by the house to tell Jordan. Luckily Frank had been home, for the news took her feet out from under her. I was busy that day, Jordan explained, as she once again patted her youngest’s bottom. She had wanted to go say her final farewell and had even argued with Frank to do just that, but Mason had other plans.

Oh, Tom said resigned to her absence, then it registered what she had been implying. OH!

This little guy was born at seven forty-one in the evening. The same day Hurly was buried.

Life, Tom chuckled and fell silent.

Curiosity had Jordan asking. So whatever became of Art Works? Setting down his mug, Tom turned. As he grinned at her, Jordan felt a door slowly open.

HE BOUGHT ART WORKS? FRANK questioned as he worked alongside his wife fixing their evening meal.

The scene was one that happened many a night in the Wilson’s home. With the rice pot steaming on the counter, Jordan chopped vegetables, while Frank prepared the fish that would be part of a stir-fry. It was one of the family’s favorite meals. As the adults worked, Laura, the couple’s thirteen-year-old daughter was finishing setting the table. Andrew had started to help, but the youngster soon lost interest. Since one of his trucks had been close at hand, he was off filling it with blocks to be dumped at another part of the living room.

Sliding the sliced zucchini aside, Jordan reached for a bell pepper. That’s what Tom said. And the announcement still hadn’t settled with her. He’s offering me, Shannon, and George a chance to buy one-fifth of the company.

That’s an odd amount? Frank responded.

Not really dad, Laura said while sliding onto a stool. The girl had come into their lives just before Laura’s ninth birthday. Adopted two years later she was loved as much as either of their sons. Now as tall as Jordan, the two could easily pass for mother and daughter. The funny part of the whole affair was in reality Laura was a very distant cousin to Jordan. The child had a slightly slenderer build than Jordan, but the same dark brown eyes and hair. It’s kind of like checks and balances we have in government. She gave the division some thought. Tom would have the controlling factor with two-fifths of the company, but if the three of them joined forces, they could outvote him. Right? Laura beamed at her deduction.

How did you get so smart? Jordan said, reaching across the counter to tap Laura on the nose. Turning attention back to her husband, Jordan continued. That, in a nutshell, is what he said. And there’s more. Tom wants me back. He’s offered to upgrade my software here at the house, for he understood that I’d want to do most of my work here for now.

There was reservation in her voice. Frank could hear it. You’re just not sure you want to go back to work.

Annoyance flickered across Jordan’s face. And you think staying home day after day is so much fun?

Realizing he put his foot in his mouth, Frank treaded lightly. With Jordan’s hormones still not leveled out from the pregnancy and her psychic ability being out whack, her moods had a tendency to swing. This time Frank knew what to expect where Jordan’s Gift was concerned. His wife saw future events through dreams, but while carrying both boys this part of her psychic ability had shut down and would remain closed for quite some time. That was good in his opinion. Unfortunately, for some reason, her perceptual ability was heightened.

I didn’t mean you don’t work, it’s just are you willing to change location?

Seeing where his questioning was leading, Jordan gave it some thought. I’m not sure, she muttered.

Reaching for the sliced vegetable, Frank made a suggestion. Play the pros and cons game with me?

The what?

List the good reasons for taking up Tom’s offer and the bad, Laura chimed in. It’s always a good idea to start with the good. She smiled proudly.

The girl has a point.

Following along, Jordan started to line up the two different points. To start with I explained to Tom that I’d always be doing some part of the job out of the house. Even as the boys got older, I want to be available to do things at their school and I have Laura to think about. He’s fine with that. I’d still have to go into the office one morning a week for a management meeting and twice a month in the afternoon to meet with staff.

Doing some quick math, Frank responded, That only involves six half days out of the month.

Right then an old thought crossed his mind. And before he could voice it, Jordan was responding. No! his wife stated firmly.

Now it was Frank’s turn to be annoyed. Do you remember our rule?

Taking a deep breath, Jordan started to argue, but her husband simply held up a hand. Giving in, she stated. If you don’t say it out loud it doesn’t count, but .., then added a quiet apology. Deciding it was best to return to their discussion, she added the next pro. The one thing wrong with working on your own is there’s no sounding board.

What are we? Laura exclaimed.

Customers, Frank replied, and seeing the wok was hot enough, dumped in the vegetables.

Laura’s indignant expression made Jordan laugh. Think of it this way. When something going on at school, who do you want to talk to about it most of the time?

Resting her head on her hand, Laura saw her point. My friends.

Same goes, only with dad and I, it’s our co-workers. When I worked at Art Works, we traded clients, sounded ideas off each other, and when necessary, backed each other. With my little business, I’m completely on my own. Taking a deep breath Jordan switch gears. Now the cons.

At that moment Andrew raced into the kitchen, with Rascal hot on his trail.

I hungry! he stated, as the dog danced around everyone’s feet.

I’m hungry, Jordan corrected.

Instead of repeating his mother’s words, he replied, Cookie? with a hopeful grin.

Frank instantly scooped up his son. How about some fish.

Fish! Want fish! Umm, Andrew called out happily, then rubbed at his belly.

Shifting the boy to his hip, Frank gave their dinner a quick stir. List the cons.

I can only think of one. The kids. I don’t want to miss the milestones in their lives. Tenderly Jordan looked over to where Mason sat in his baby swing. There was one of those activity bars dangling right in front of him. When the baby jerked, things wiggled, tootled, and made other sounds. With big eyes, the little boy only stared. I was there with Andrew when he took his first steps, his first word and I want to be there when Mason does those things. When school starts in September, I want to be the one taking Andrew on his first day of pre-school. And I hope to be involved in some of the activities through Laura’s new school. All this tugged a little at her heart. All three children were growing up so fast. In the fall Laura would be starting high school. It just seemed like yesterday when Jordan had brought the girl into her home.

And from what you said, the setup Tom is offering will allow you to be there for all that. When Jordan frowned, Frank pushed. So you plan to tie them to your apron strings.

Shooting her husband a sarcastic expression, Jordan stated tartly. I’m not wearing an apron.

Sure you are. Every time you try to do this all by yourself. I’ve said it before, you don’t have to carry the full load. I know I’m not much help. After Andrew was born, I agreed to do the laundry and how many loads have I done? His wife’s snicker didn’t help, for Frank had ruined several articles of clothing. Narrowing his eyes, he set Andrew down. Giving the boy a soft pat on the butt, sent him off to play. My point is that I’m no help. And my time will even be more crammed when I make lieutenant. With Mark shooting for captain, I’ll be breaking in a new partner. Hopefully, it will be Baker.

To distract her husband, Jordan fluttered her eyes. Why not Peterson.

Frank had worked with Robin Peterson on different cases for years. She was the only female detective in the department and was currently on an extended maternity leave. There had been some rumors she might not even return. Some of the guys were even taking bets on that.

The distraction hadn’t worked, for Frank put them both quickly on track. What we need is some help here in the house. Someone who came come in and do a few loads of laundry, some light housekeeping, keep the boys out of your hair while you work and when the kids enter school, take them. As Frank listed the jobs, Jordan was adamantly shaking her head no!

While she had been listening to her parents’ debate, Laura had picked up one of the drawing pads she had lying around the house. Idly she began sketching them. Now Laura chimed in. Dad, I’ll be driving.

Not until your junior year, he said with some frustration, then turning to his wife demanded, Why not?

E S P! Jordan stated with irritation. I don’t want some stranger in this house when things start happening.

Knowing how sensitive she was in this area, Frank treaded lightly once again. Things are always happening, inside and outside this house. That’s a fact.

Fine, Jordan snapped. What about the boys? Neither Andrew nor Mason are old enough to tell us if they’re being mistreated.

Shoving the vegetables aside, Frank slid in the chunks of white fish. Then set the lid over the whole works, dealt with his wife. Resting hands on her shoulders, Frank waited until her eyes locked onto his. If you can’t find someone who will fit nicely into our family, then your Gift isn’t worth two cents. Heat flashed in her eyes. To silence the matter, Frank kissed his wife long and deep. Let’s just table that for now. Tomorrow go and see what Tom has to offer. And leaving it at that, went back to fixing dinner.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING JORDAN FOUND herself driving over to her cousin’s house. The night before Frank had made two strong suggestions. The first had been to dress professionally. That had been a given, but easier said than done.

With her figure still out of shape from Mason’s birth, Jordan was limited in her selections. Hopefully, that would be rectified with proper exercise and a few additions to her wardrobe. Still, she had been able to find something that fit and was appropriate. The skirt she had chosen was soft shades of brown had an adjustable waist and went well with the beige blouse. To complete the ensemble Jordan had added an off-white blazer and just a touch of simple jewelry.

Now the second had produced an argument. Her original plan had been to bring the boys, but Frank had pointed out that in a sense this was an interview. Not a place for children, had been one of his more pointed comments. Though Jordan didn’t see the harm, he did make sense the more she thought about it. Andrew would have become bored within five minutes once the adults started talking. So she had called her cousin’s wife, asking if the boys could stay with her. Ellen jumped at the idea and Jordan knew why.

With her second off to pre-school, Ellen was experiencing the empty nest syndrome. Though she still had one child at home, the change was taking its toll.

Play with Noah, Andrew piped up from the back seat.

Jordan glanced at her son through the review mirror. Noah’s at school, Jordan explained. But Frankie will be there.

Frankieeee, Andrew cried out happily. Then his little hands became busy.

Andrew James! His mother sharply warming caused the boy to freeze. The child was a busy one and as of late he’d taken to playing with the buckle of his car seat. Though his fingers weren’t strong enough to pop the buckle, it was just a matter of time. You know better. Immediately the boy shot an innocent look at his mother. Behave yourself, Jordan said as she pulled to a stop in front of Allen’s home.

Getting out of the car, Jordan headed for the passenger’s rear door. After swinging the boys’ diaper bag over her shoulder, she reached over to release Andrew from his restraints. The boy was out of his seat like a shot, rearing to go. Gently Jordan lifted a dozing Mason out of his carrier. The baby whimpered. He was usually down for a nap at this time of the day. I’m sorry, Jordan crooned. I bet Auntie Ellen will have a nice soft bed for you. In response, Mason yawned hugely.

Go play with Frankie, Andrew demanded with impatience.

Holding out his hand, Andrew eagerly pulled his mother towards the front door. As Jordan walked, her senses told her that their house wasn’t the only one in turmoil. There was an air of tension here as well. Before they reached the front door, it opened. Ellen, a short pretty brunette stood there waiting for them. Let me have my newest Godson, she said holding out her arms.

Andrew in the meantime had torn free of his mother. Dashing inside, he saw Frankie standing in the room. Dressing in jeans and a pretty pink top, the little girl let out a squeal of delight at having a playmate. Turning the two youngest raced for the trucks scattered around the room.

As Jordan transferred Mason into his soon to be Godmother’s arms, Ellen let out a little sigh of frustration. Problem? Jordan asked.

She’s supposed to be a girl. Glancing over, the women saw that each child had grabbed a large toy truck and were currently driving them recklessly around the room.

Look at what my daughter chooses to play with. To comply with Ellen’s request Jordan glanced around the room. Boy toys were scattered about. There was only one doll, which currently sat limply on the floor. Ignoring it, Frankie happily played with her brothers’ trucks.

She’s a girl. Jordan's statement had Ellen giving her an exasperated look. She’s just not very dainty.

Letting out a huff, Ellen walked over to a rocker. Irritably she settled in the chair with the baby. Deciding to drop the matter, Jordan headed for the kitchen. I fed him just before we left, but I brought milk just in case. Opening the freezer section of the fridge, Jordan set a bottle of breast milk inside. I don’t know how long I’ll be. Will that be a problem?

No, Ellen said from the other room. Allen said he’d swing by Noah’s school and pick him up. Matthew doesn’t get out until almost three. He’s been walking home with a buddy from school the last few weeks.

Glancing at the time, Jordan made a decision. She had heard the edginess in her cousin’s wife’s voice. Walking back into the living room, she sat on the couch. Ellen was looking so longingly at the baby, it tore at Jordan’s heart a little. So when did you start?

Last night after you called. Allen is somewhat annoyed at me right now. But we’ve been trying for so long. You’d think after conceiving three, the fourth one would be a piece of cake.

It had actually been five, but Jordan wasn’t about to point that out. Between her first and second sons, Ellen had a miscarriage. The whole ordeal had been very traumatic for Allen and his wife. What Jordan now was keeping to herself was Ellen had conceived three months ago, losing the baby by the fifth week, but from the beginning that had been a bad pregnancy. For the sake of the couple, she hadn’t mentioned it. Ellen’s hopes had begun to stir during that time, then dashed when her period had just shown up late. At least that was what Ellen had thought.

Suddenly Ellen’s eyes shown very bright. Reaching out a hand, she seized Jordan’s. Will I get pregnant again? she demanded.

At these times, Jordan hated when friends and family knew about her Gift. Ellen, she said gently, my Gift doesn’t work that way.

But you see into the future, Ellen argued.

I do, but only where the living is concerned. Thankfully she was given a reprieve from answering more. Squabbling over a toy, Frankie slugged Andrew and sent both children tumbling to the floor. Now Andrew was no pushover. With a shove of his own, the boy stood his ground. After a few second seconds of pushing on each other, their attention shifted. With laughter, the children were off once more playing happily. But with Ellen, it was another matter. Again she sighed and this time Jordan chose to address this. She just likes playing on the rough side.

She’s a tomboy, Ellen stated gruffly.

I was a tomboy, Jordan protested.

Blushing slightly, Ellen quickly added. Frankie is the only girl in a whole lot of boys.

What do you call Laura and Linzee. Jordan was referring to the girl Allen’s older sister had adopted. Linzee was a few years younger than Laura. While Vicky and her husband Richard were in the process of adopting Linzee’s two-year-old brother Lucas, they had discovered he had a sister. After doing some soul searching the Sangers had agreed to offer both children a home. Though it hadn’t been a paradise living with the older child, the relationship was working.

It’s not the same thing, Ellen complained.

I beg to differ. It was the same with me. Except for Alice, the other girls were so much older than I was. Even back then, Jordan stated. Other than Alice, Vicky was the only one closest to my age. It’s only been in the last few years that we’ve become close friends. And Allen’s twin sister Alice was a prim prima donna even back then. Once she got soaked with a hose and screamed for hours. Frankie may be rough around the edges, but she’s still a girl.

Ellen sighed. My luck I’ll have another boy. When Jordan frowned, her cousin’s wife again blushed. I mean ... well. Don’t take this wrong, but I wish you’d had a girl. I love Mason, Ellen said, hugging the sleeping baby to her chest. But don’t you wish you had a girl.

I have one, Jordan said rather sharply. The tone had Ellen’s face began to crumble. Pushing her annoyance aside, Jordan reached over and took Ellen’s hand. All I can tell you is to be patient. You have to remember that babies come in God’s time.

Now tears began to run down Ellen’s cheeks. I know. It's just Allen is getting tired of it. He’s even saying we have three and maybe we should stop.

Then do that. When Ellen’s mouth dropped open, Jordan quickly explained what she meant. Focus on the children you do have. Lock the thought into your head that you’ve had all the children that you’re going to have. I’m not predicting any such thing, but if you could do that and relax, it will happen.

Nodding, Ellen cuddled the baby closer.

OUT IN HER CAR JORDAN felt miffed at Ellen. Damn it, she did have a girl and that girl was Laura. Ellen wasn’t the only one thinking those thoughts, for even though the child was much loved, she still held adoption static in the eyes of some of their extended family. Linzee fell in the same category. Shoving the whole silly conversation out of her mind, Jordan headed downtown.

As she turned into the parking garage near Art Works, it was like coming home. Smiling, Jordan even recognized the welcoming party. Fred had been a fixture here for as long as she could remember. He was the head of security for the building as well as the parking facility. He would be considered short for a man of today, standing no more than five-six, but there was no mistaking his strength. Somewhere in his sixties, Fred’s ruddy complexion and nearly bald head added character to the man.

Slowing her car to a halt, Jordan rolled down her window. It’s been a while.

The man grinned in welcome. Heard a rumor you might be coming back, Fred replied. Glancing in the backseat, he saw the two children’s carriers. I see your family has grown. What’s that make.

Three, Jordan said proudly. A girl and two boys.

That has to keep you busy, the security guard chuckled. And how have you been?

Fine and yes they do. Jordan started to ask about Fred’s wife. She had been frail for years. As the question formed, Jordan saw it. The grief of the loss of a loved one had its own shade. Shifting the question, Jordan asked. And how have you been?

Like many men, Fred wasn’t one to show his emotions. He had tensed slightly in anticipation of the question, then relaxed. Can’t complain. It doesn’t do any good to.

I guess I need a place to park, Jordan said, sensing the conversation was coming to a close.

You know, your old space was vacated just last week. Must be a sign. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a special pass. You lay this on the deck back there. No one will bother you. Mrs. Douglas is here. She got her old space back as well. Handing the square piece of paper to Jordan, the security guard stepped back.

Now meeting Fred was just the first of many surprises. As Jordan pulled into her spot, she thought of other people that had made up the Art Works crew. Tom had said he had even found Kevin.

The young man who Jordan figured had to be approaching thirty was a master at running the printing section for Art Works. He ran the department with a steady hand and a cheerful personality. If Jordan had to say there was any strike against him was the man’s size. The last time Jordan had seen him, Kevin was pushing well into the three hundred.

Stepping into the elevator, she pushed the button for the top floor. The garage was connected to the building that housed Art Works. The business occupied the entire fourth floor, with the reproduction department covering the better part of the third. As the doors opened to the lobby, she saw Tom had already been busy.

Fresh carpet had been laid. He had changed it from the dark brown to a deep mossy green. Laura would have approved since green was her favorite color. The walls too had been freshened up. Painted a soft yellow, the place seemed to shine. Even the ART WORKS logo had been changed or better yet modernized. The new symbol had been done in tones of copper, nickel, and silver. And yet with the new, came the old.

Sitting behind an updated reception area were two familiar faces. Cheryl and Margaret sat working away. Pausing, Jordan waited until they looked in her direction. Smiles broke out as the two women scurried around their desks to greet her. Hugs quickly were exchanged.

Please say you’re coming back, Cheryl cried out. She was a tall woman, reaching close to six feet. Thin as a rail, Cheryl's hair was cut in a short bob. Today the color was a soft sable brown. Over the years, she had changed it to blond, black, and once bright red. Jordan wasn’t sure what color it really was.

I’m thinking very hard in that direction. So, Jordan laughed, "still looking for Mr. Right."

To answer the question, Cheryl held up her bare left hand. I’m still looking, she sighed. I beginning to think the man doesn’t exist.

The sad part was he did. Kevin had often tried to work up the courage to ask Cheryl out, but had always lost his nerve. It was good he never had, for Cheryl couldn’t get past the weight. Though she was polite to his face, Jordan had heard on more than one occasion the snide remarks about the man’s size.

And you? Jordan asked Margaret.

With pride, the other secretary turned to walk back to her desk. Snagging up a joined set of picture frames, she presented them to Jordan. Margaret had married after Jordan herself had left the old Art Works. Since then the two had lost contact. Now as Jordan studied the pictures, she saw two beautiful girls, who looked to be about three.

Twins, Jordan stated in surprise.

Twins. Taping each picture, they were introduced as Ruth and Leah. The names made sense since Margaret was Jewish. Even though Margaret was on the liberal side of things, she did practice her faith.

And you? Cheryl asked eyeing Jordan’s left hand. Unable to resist, Jordan pulled pictures out of all three of her children. You still have Laura, Cheryl exclaimed and earned a jab in the rib from Margaret.

Keeping her annoyance in check, Jordan answered evenly. Why wouldn’t I?

Well, Cheryl began, while Margaret rolled her eyes. It’s just I always heard that when people have their own children, the foster kids get the boot.

Sighing, Jordan said, Laura isn’t a foster child. She’s our daughter. And left it at that.

Awkwardly, Cheryl shifted the subject. Shannon’s here. She’s in the back.

Taking the hint, Jordan stated she was glad they had returned, then thanking them for rejoining the team, headed down the hall where the offices were. In the background, she heard Margaret’s scowling and Cheryl’s awkward reply of, Well, I didn’t know!

Tuning that out, Jordan hadn’t gone far when George flew out from one of the doorways, nearly plowing into her. Jordan! he cried out. Heard you were coming back. Great news. As he spoke, George danced around her. We had to do lunch. Talk and get caught up on old times. Call me. I’m late for a meeting. And before Jordan could respond he’d dashed off.

Continuing her journey, she stopped in the doorway of her old office. Inside Shannon was up on a chair hanging a picture.

Studying the art, Jordan tried to figure out what it was. As far as she could tell it was an abstract beach scene. You know you should hang that on my side of the room. The sound of her voice had Shannon whirling around. That way you can look at the picture and not me.

Jumping down, Shannon ran across the room. Before Jordan knew it, she was engulfed by her friend. The question was on the tip of Shannon’s tongue. Holding up a hand, Jordan gave the standard answer. I’m thinking very hard in that direction.

Biting her lip, Shannon watched as Jordan scanned the room. It was set up similar to what it had been when she had left. Their two desks butted up to each other head-to-head and sat dead center of the room. Behind Shannon, a workstation had been assembled, complete with a computer. Currently, there was nothing behind what would be Jordan’s desk. On the far wall was the old counter. Part had been converted to hold a printer/scanner that both workers would use. At the other end was a new coffee pot with a selection of teas beside it. Underneath was the refrigerator Jordan had left behind.

I hope you don’t mind, but I offered to share, Shannon stated nervously. Tom said until your boys got older, you’d be working mainly from home.

That will be fine, Jordan stated while entering the room. The desk that had been hers looked like it had been through a war zone. Whoever had used it had left it heavily scared. Frank was good at restoring things, so she’d have to talk her husband into refinishing it. Besides you won’t be here much either.

Shannon giggled. And why not?

Turning Jordan blinked slowly as her Gift automatically opened. Don’t you want to stay home with the baby?

What baby? Shannon asked in surprise. Realizing what had just happened, Jordan tried to backtrack, but it was already too late. What baby! This time the question was asked with a demand.

Reaching over, Jordan closed the door. You’re pregnant, she stated carefully. Maybe about three weeks along.

Shocked, Shannon leaned against the desk. Her skin had gone pale. Are you sure? She watched her friend nod slowly. I’m late, but that’s not unusual. Rubbing her stomach gently, Shannon stated. It does explain why I was queasy this morning. Oh boy.

Puzzled, Jordan tried to give the situation some thought. As far as Jordan knew Mark had been the only man her friend had been with. Even though the couple had hit a rough spot last year, she was sure her friend wouldn’t stray. I thought Mark took care of things? Jordan asked carefully.

In response, Shannon blushed. No, she said sheepishly. After Tera was born, Mark started to and I ended up crying, thinking I wanted another child down the road. Then about six-seven years ago, we realized that we didn’t want another one, so he set things up to ... then Shannon made a scissor motion of cutting with her fingers to make her point. "I tell you if they give him the captainship in the detective department, I hope he knocks some of those stupid guys' heads together.

He scheduled vacation time and told Frank what he was doing. Mark’s sure Frank didn’t say a word, but someone found out and blabbed. Anyway, a week before the procedure, they teased him so badly, Mark canceled the surgery and vacation time he planned to take off.

Frank too had had his share of harassment over the years and some of it got out of hand.

They did things, Shannon complained, like hang a pair of those plastic doggie balls on his locker and leave condoms in his desk drawer. There’s only a few of them that does this stuff, but those guys are really sick.

In disgust, Jordan shook her head. Since Mason was born, Frank had been looking into a vasectomy, but had cautioned her not to say a word to anyone about it. Now she knew why.

So, what are you going to do? Jordan asked.

Have a baby, Shannon said with delight, now that the idea was settling in. Then all at once she grabbed Jordan’s hand. What am I having.

Unable to resist the request, Jordan blinked slowly again allowing her Gift to channel. A boy.

Happily Shannon clapped her hands. Won’t Mark be pleased. Don’t get me wrong, he loves his girls, but deep down he’s always wanted a son.

Mark, Jordan thought. He had always been funny when it came to her Gift. To him, it was just a bunch of nonsense. Ah, Jordan stated and watched puzzlement cross Shannon’s face. Do me a favor. Take a pregnancy test first before you tell him. In fact, take two. You know how he is where this area of my life is concerned. And don’t tell him about the sex. He might not believe you, or I should say me.

Her friend did have a point. I will about the pregnancy, but I doubt I’ll be about to keep the baby’s sex a secret. Mark will just have to live with it.

It always felt good when someone believed her, Jordan thought, but still wasn’t ready when the next statement hit.

So, Shannon continued, since you two have boys are you going to shoot for another? You know try to have a girl this time.

Once again annoyance stirred. What was Laura, a turnip? I have a girl, Jordan stated a little gruffly.

Realizing she’d put her foot in her mouth, Shannon shifted gears. I meant ... Oh, never mind. Of course you have your girl. And once again the subject was dropped. So are you joining us or not? As you guess, I quit working for the city the minute Tom made me the offer three weeks ago. That night, I got a really good bottle of Champagne, so Mark and I could celebrate. We got carried away and forgot to use protection. She stared down at her belly, and baby makes three. Or in our case five.

The time frame caught Jordan off guard. Tom talked to you three weeks ago.

Realizing she’d put her foot in her mouth again, Shannon grimaced. He did, she replied sheepishly. He was going to go over and talk to you the next day, Shannon quickly explained, but I guess Ghislaine called and Tom had to fly back to France. He asked me not to mention anything to you because he wanted to do that himself.

Seeing the spot her friend was in, Jordan shifted back to their former topic.

Protection?

Now Shannon blushed. I was on the pill twice and it failed both times. That’s why I have two daughters so close together. So over the years, we used ...

TMI, Jordan said waving her hands in front of her face. When Shannon only gawked, Jordan laughed. Too much information.

Well, Shannon said getting back on track. I liked working downtown. They are a great group of people to work with, but too often I had something dumped on me that had nothing to do with my chosen field. This, she said gesturing around the room, is like coming home.

As Shannon rattled on, Jordan’s mind flashed on her own employment history. After college, she had worked for Art Works’ competitor in a dog-eat-dog environment, until she became burnt out. Luckily there had been friends and family to support her as Jordan began to search for a job that would suit her better. In time and through the help of a dear friend, Hurly had given her a chance to prove herself, and here Jordan had shined.

We’ve had to take a second on the house, but in the end it will be well worth it. So, Shannon started unable to resist asking the question out loud. Are you seriously thinking, or just exploring?

Let’s just say, I’m about ninety percent here. Glancing at her watch, Jordan added. Before I make up my mind on the last ten, I better get down there and talk to Tom.

AS JORDAN HEADED IN TOM’S direction, she found her mind unsettled by the fact that Tom had talked to Shannon three weeks ago and her friend hadn’t breathed a word. It just showed how much out of touch the women had become. Once upon a time, they’d had been very close. Working together once again should renew their friendship.

Now, other changes were underfoot. When Jordan got to the end of the hallway, she expected to come to the door that had once been Tom’s office. Instead, she was facing a wall.

Hurley had tried on more than one occasion to have his own personal secretary back here, but no matter how he rearranged the offices, it never worked for him. Apparently Tom had figured out how to accomplish that task. By taking the second office, he had walled off part of it, opening up one end to make a small alcove where a desk and workstation could be placed.

Now a brunette who looked to be in her late twenties sat working on a computer. She was petite, with a heart-shaped face and soft brown eyes. As Jordan approached, the woman looked up. Hello, she greeted Jordan with a warm and professional smile.

And yet the smile sent a shiver down Jordan’s spine. The warning hadn’t been very strong, but enough to get Jordan’s attention. Glancing at the nameplate, Jordan responded in kind. Hello Audrey. Is Mr. Welsh in?

Yes he is. Audrey remained pleasant, but there was something there that Jordan couldn’t quite put a finger to. Automatically she reached, sensing the pull of a puppet master’s string. That made no sense. Adding to what flowed through her was greed. This emotion she couldn’t understand, for it didn’t fit the polite woman before her. You must be Jordan, Audrey said breaking into Jordan’s thoughts. Tom’s expecting you.

So the place was to have a casual atmosphere, Jordan thought, shifting her mind to this space and time. Hurley had tried to maintain one, but he was the boss, so it was always mister.

Just go on in, Audrey stated and returned to her typing.

Glancing in the direction the woman had pointed, Jordan saw the door was indeed open. From where she stood, she could hear the sound of men’s easy laughter. As she headed towards what appeared to be a conversation, once again she felt the tug from her Gift, only this time it was much stronger. Like a cold finger had just raked down her spine, Jordan shuttered. Obviously it was a warning, but from what?

Stepping into the doorway, she saw that Tom had completely remodeled their former boss’s office. He had moved the desk to the far end of the room and created a sitting area directly in front of the window, that used to sit behind Hurley’s desk. The two high back leather chairs sat facing each other and a low table between them gave an atmosphere of ease. Currently, the two men were enjoying expresso from the minibar Tom had also installed. Though Jordan had a bird’s eye view of Tom, his company remained slightly out of sight. Once again the warning went off in her head. This time the impression hit hard, for though she couldn’t see the face, the man’s emotions were like a tiger stalking his prey.

Ah, Tom cried out when he noticed Jordan just standing there. I was hoping to see you today.

He stood and so did his companion. The stranger before her was tall and rather nicely built. It was obvious he kept fit. His black hair was long, and neatly tie back, surrounding a strong face, but the eyes seemed strangely familiar. She had seen them before. Though he moved with elegant grace, Jordan could easily see the hunter within. Like a blast from the past, those dark blue eyes took her in. Behind them, the cunning emotion washed through her. Well schooled at keeping her reaction suppressed, Jordan smiled softly.

Crossing the room, Tom gestured her in. Jordan Graves ... this is Russell Davenport.

The man gave her a pleasant smile, but inside she sensed the tiger turn its eyes onto new prey. Davenport had been only slightly surprised to see her, but he had obviously been pleased, with his thoughts quickly shifting in a different direction. It was like Jordan’s appearance had been a bonus, but to what she had no idea. Studying her, the man said, Graves? The name sounds familiar. Have we met?

He was fishing and Jordan knew it.

I don’t think so, Jordan said easily enough, but hadn’t bothered to correct Tom’s mistake about her last name.

Well I see you have business to tend to, Russell said to Tom. I’ll let you get to it. Nice meeting you Ms. Graves.

Jordan hadn’t missed the slight pun, for the man knew perfectly well who she was. What bothered her was Davenport’s reaction to her presence. Opening to her Gift, she sensed he was trouble, but as to what end she just couldn’t see.

CHAPTER 2

DURING THE DAY FRANK HAD expected to hear something from Jordan, but his wife hadn’t called. When he stepped into the house later that evening a light sense of tension seemed to hang in the air, telling him something was up. While they prepared dinner, he broached the subject of what happened at Art Works, only to have Jordan shake her head to warn him off, so Frank left the matter rest.

With the kids tucked in for the night, Frank chose to do a workout. as he thought the situation through. Using the portable gym in the garage, he tried to decide how best to approach his wife. When something was bugging Jordan, the harder Frank pushed, the more she clammed up. Deciding to let her come to him, he slipped a towel around his neck.

Working with wood was one of Frank’s great loves. Over the past few years, he had gotten into building wooden boxes with a hidden drawer. Years earlier, Jordan had given him a book with many designs that had been passed to her from another branch of her extended family tree. Frank's older brother Jake would build the metal framework and Frank added the wood, creating the unique boxes. The whole project was very time consuming, and not very profitable. It was the pure joy of doing that kept the project going.

Setting one of the panels in place, Frank saw it needed a little work. Picking up a piece of sandpaper, he gently stroked down one side. The movement at the doorway had him looking up. Jordan stood there was some uncertainty. In her hands, she carried two mugs, with a small plate balanced on top of one. Continuing his work, Frank called out, I don’t bite.

Feeling awkward, Jordan stepped into the room. Studying his current project, Jordan noted several pieces were already in place. She wondered what color stain he’d use and knew she was avoiding what was on her mind.

Glancing at the plate, Frank saw only one cookie. So is this a peace offering, or are we going to break this one in half as sort of a truce from last night’s argument?

What? Jordan asked, then stared at the lone chocolate chip. The batch was one of Frank’s favorites and she had baked them fresh after coming home. My mind’s not with it, she muttered.

Setting aside his work, Frank picked up the treat and broke it in half. How about we call it a truce and you tell me what you didn’t want to say in front of Laura and the boys.

Biting into the offering he held out, Jordan pondered her question. Will you tell me what happened to McKindly?

Out of all the responses she could have made, it was the question that caught him by surprise. Drawing on his training as a police officer, Frank chose not to react outwardly. Why? he asked, then bit into his portion of the cookie.

Inwardly Jordan had sensed his reaction and fed off the energy. Anxiously, she pressed, You never said what happened to him after the arrest.

Letting his mind flip back. Frank remembered his investigations of a series of home robberies. They had become serious with each other about the same time Ely McKindly had walked into Jordan’s life. The man presented himself as running a business that installed home security systems, but in reality, he had an inventive way of breaking into people’s homes. Taking him on as a client had proven to be both a challenge and a bucket load of trouble for Jordan because the man’s extra activities had entered into her dreams. It was the sequence of these two events that forged the couple’s relationship.

Why? Frank repeated.

Because I want to know. What prison did he end up in and how much time did he get.

Neither, was Frank's bland response as he polished off his share of tonight’s treat.

Neither? What does that mean?

He poofed before they brought him to trial.

Now Jordan stood there with her mouth gaping open. I don’t understand, she stated, trying to make sense of what her husband was saying. You’re saying he just up and vanished? Frank only nodded once. Then they held the trial without him?

This time Frank shook his head. The DA decided not to pursue the matter.

Why not? she demanded.

The evidence wasn’t solid enough to suit him.

With her mind racing, Jordan tried to understand the system they called justice. But ... she stammered. You found the hidden wall in his office, the one all that stuff was behind .... You know, the one I found when we used my Gift. The expression on her husband’s face was placid. As if he needed an explanation, she continued. When we used my Gift to make a connection with McKindly.

So, Frank replied almost indifferently.

Stunned, Jordan pressed on. What about the jewelry ... the book ... I even gave you a description of that funny device he used to break into people’s homes. You know, the one we figured out turned off the alarm system. To each statement, Frank had repeated the same answer with a callous tone.

In his mind, he flashed on the device that had been confiscated from McKindly’s two thugs. At first glance, it looked like a unit that played CDs, but actually was a short-range scanner. When the men realized they were being left flapping in the wind, they turned on their former boss, stating he was the inventor of the device. But McKindly was no dummy and through his lawyer said he had no idea what the men were talking about and furthermore didn’t even know who these people were. Being reminded of the case had put Frank’s back up. Why are you bringing all this up now?

She hadn’t planned to tell him this way, but it simply blurted out. Because I ran into his brother in Tom’s office.

Now Frank jerked to attention. Today! The sharpness of his tone of voice had Jordan taking a small step back. With her eyes on her husband, she nodded. Why was he there? Frank demanded.

Tom didn’t say.

With his mind whirling on this tidbit of news, Frank made a decision. Did you sign anything?

The intensity of the question slapped at Jordan. Now temper flashed in her eyes. I did not. You asked me to bring the contract home. I had one of the secretaries in the front make a copy. That I dropped off at Vicky’s for review. The original is here at the house, as per your request.

Good, Frank stated. Then tomorrow you can contact Tom and tell him you’ll pass.

Now Jordan's stubborn streak jumped in there. "And who appointed you to make decisions as to where my career is concerned."

Holding up his left hand, Frank tapped his wedding ring with his thumb.

That makes you my partner, not my keeper.

"And as your partner, I say this is a bad idea. What gives?