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CHAPTER ONE
“All right, I’ll play your little game,” Jordan Larabee said from between gritted teeth. He paced the carpet in front of Ian Houghton’s shiny mahogany desk. “Where is she?”
“I presume you mean Molly?”
Ian could be a real smart aleck, and apparently he’d turned that ability into an art form since their last meeting.
“Might I remind you that Molly isyourwife?”
“She’s your daughter,” Jordan shot back. “You’re the one she went to when she left me.”
As Ian relaxed in his high-back leather chair, he seemed to enjoy himself. An insolent half smile curved the edges of his mouth. “It was my understanding that Molly’s leaving was a mutual decision.”
Jordan snickered. “By the time she moved out, there wasn’t anything mutual between us. We hadn’t spoken in days.” Any communication between them had died with their six-month-old son. The autumn morning they’d lowered Jeffrey’s tiny casket into the ground,they’d buried their marriage, as well. For eight months afterward, they’d struggled to hold their lives together. But the grief and the guilt had eaten away at them until there was nothing left but an empty shell, and eventually that had crumbled and scattered like dust.
Ian stood, looking older than Jordan remembered. He walked over to the window and gazed out as if the view was mesmerizing. “Why now?”
“It’s been three years,” Jordan reminded him.
“I’m well aware of how long it’s been,” Ian murmured, clasping his hands behind his back.
“It’s time I got on with my life,” Jordan said coolly. “I want a divorce.”
“A divorce,” Ian repeated. His shoulders sagged.
“Don’t tell me this comes as a shock. I should have filed years ago.” Jordan started pacing again, the anger simmering just below the surface. His annoyance was unreasonable, he realized, and directed more at himself than his father-in-law. He’d delayed this confrontation far longer than he should have. The divorce papers were in his briefcase, and all he needed was Molly’s signature. After three years, he didn’t expect any argument. Actually he was surprised she hadn’t initiated this herself.
Ian moved away from the window and glanced at the framed picture on his desk. Jordan knew it was a portrait of him and Molly taken shortly after Jeffrey’s birth. He remembered it well. He was standing behind Molly, who held Jeffrey in her arms; his hand was on Molly’s shoulder and the two of them were smiling down on their son. They had no way of knowing thattheir joy would soon turn into the deepest grief they could possibly experience.
“I’d always hoped you two would patch things up,” Ian said, his voice tinged with sadness.
Jordan pressed his lips together and thrust his hands inside his pockets. A reconciliationmighthave worked earlier, but it was too late now; the sooner Ian accepted that, the better. “I’ve met someone else.”
Ian nodded. “I guessed as much. Well, you can’t blame an old man for hoping.”
“Where’s Molly?” Jordan wasn’t enjoying this any more than Ian was. Time to cut to the chase.
“The East African Republic,” Ian told him.
Jordan’s head snapped up. “Africa?”
Ian nodded. “She’s doing volunteer work with some church group. The country’s desperately in need of anyone with medical experience, and working there has seemed to help her.”
Jordan splayed his fingers through his hair. “How long has she been there?”
“Over two years now.”
“Twoyears?” Jordan felt as if he’d taken a blow to the stomach. He slumped into a nearby chair. It was just like Molly to do something that impulsive. The East African Republic had been in the news almost nightly, with accounts of rebel unrest, drought and disease.
“I’ve done everything I can think of to convince her to come home,” Ian said, sitting back down, “but she won’t listen to me.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Jordan demanded.
“The same thing that’s wrong with you, I suspect,”Ian said without rancor. “You buried yourself in your work, and she’s dedicated herself to saving the world.”
“Any fool would know that place isn’t safe,” Jordan said heatedly, furious with his soon-to-be ex-wife.
Ian nodded. “She says otherwise. She’s working in a hospital in Makua City, the capital, for two weeks of every month. Then she commutes into the backcountry to a medical compound for another two weeks.”
