Through Jenna's Eyes. KRISTI GOLD

followed Avery inside the house, hoping to discover Jenna waiting nearby so they could get the hell out of there. But the expansive foyer was deserted, with the exception of a few pieces of pricey artwork and Fordyce, who turned and said, “I don’t like this, O’Brien.”

      Logan didn’t have to ask what Avery didn’t like. “It’s only lunch.”

      “So you say. Just remember, Jenna means everything to me, son. She’s an exceptional young woman. Fragile in many ways. If you mess with her feelings, you mess with mine. Understood?”

      Avery’s meaning couldn’t be clearer if he’d carved it into stone—or into Logan’s flesh. Still, Logan had a hard time believing Jenna was as fragile as her father had claimed. But if he screwed up with Avery’s only child, he’d be out in the cold when it came to future contracts. “Understood.”

      “Now that you know what I expect, you may wait for Jenna in the study.” He pointed to his right before pivoting around like a drill sergeant and heading down the lengthy hall.

      Logan wandered into the room Avery had indicated, expecting to find a collection of books stacked on rows of shelves, maybe even an office setup. Instead, the area held a grouping of casual rattan furniture and plenty of pictures, but not the kind displayed in a trendy gallery. Portraits depicting a dark-haired boy spanned the length of the room. One showed a sleeping newborn lying on a blue blanket; another featured a toothless, smiling infant on his belly in a field of wildflowers, and beside that, a toddler dressed in a red baseball uniform with a miniature wooden bat.

      Even if he didn’t know the kid’s identity, Logan suspected he was someone special. Possibly a member of the extended family—or immediate family.

      “His name is John David.”

      He turned at the sound of the familiar voice to discover Jenna standing in the open doorway wearing a pale yellow, sleeveless dress, her dark hair secured atop her head. The sunshades covering her eyes and the white cane in her hand were the only indications she was anything but a healthy, beautiful woman. In fact, she looked so damn good, for a moment Logan had trouble responding to her comment. “Who took all these pictures?”

      “I did. I used to own a small photography studio in northwest Houston before my eyes started giving me grief. I consider these portraits some of my best work.”

      That explained the quality of the photos, even if it didn’t explain Jenna’s relationship to the child, although Logan had his suspicions. “You must have really liked this particular subject.”

      “More than you know.” She crossed the room, removed a framed photo from a table before returning and offering it for his inspection. “This one’s my favorite.”

      Logan studied the picture of Jenna turned profile to the boy, their foreheads touching. The perfect depiction of a woman’s fondness for a child. Or maybe a mother’s love for her son. Then again, he could be mistaken since she hadn’t mentioned having a child, nor had her father in the years he’d known him. But when he turned his attention from the photo to Jenna and saw the moisture dampening her cheeks, Logan sensed he was on the right track. And affirmation came when she said, “He’s my son.”

      She raised the glasses and swept a fast hand beneath her eyes before replacing the shades again. “I’m sorry. It’s very difficult to talk about him without my emotions going haywire.”

      Although he was tempted to ask exactly what had happened to the boy, Logan decided not to pressure Jenna for more information than she was willing or able to give. Instead, he said the only thing he could think to say. “He looks like you.”

      She gave him a tentative smile. “He definitely inherited my brown eyes, but his hair is lighter, like his dad’s. Or it was the last time I could see it.”

      “How long ago was that?”

      “He’s three and a half now, so that would have been about a year ago, right before my vision took a severe turn for the worse. He went to live with his father not long after that. We share joint custody.”

      At least Jenna hadn’t suffered a traumatic loss of her child, although Logan couldn’t imagine how she’d tolerated a year without him. “When will he be back with you?”

      She clutched the frame to her breasts, as if she were holding her absent son. “As soon as I have the corneal transplants. Since he’s so active, I thought it best he stay with his dad a little longer than the usual six months. But it’s been difficult since he’s so far away.”

      “How far?”

      “In Tennessee, outside of Memphis. I do talk to him every night, though.”

      A sorry substitute for physical contact. “I’m surprised Avery never mentioned him to me.” Most grandfathers Logan had known doted over the grandchildren, including his own father.

      “It’s not that Dad doesn’t love J.D.,” she said. “In fact, he adores him. But he’s never accepted the fact that J.D.’s father and I divorced.”

      Logan could see how that wouldn’t go over well with a traditionalist like Avery Fordyce. Or his own parents, who’d had a hard time with his sister’s divorce. “How long were you together?”

      “I’d known him four years, and we’d been living together for three when I found out I was pregnant. We married five weeks later. Right after J.D. turned six months old, we realized it wasn’t going to work. But David’s a good father, and that’s all that matters.”

      From the sadness in Jenna’s tone, Logan gathered that maybe the divorce hadn’t been her idea. He wanted to ask if she’d loved this David and if the guy had treated her well. If he’d accepted her blindness, or if that had been the reason for the split. “I guess marrying for the sake of a child isn’t always a good thing.” And he’d almost found himself caught in that trap.

      She shook her head. “No, it’s not. Particularly if two people are less than compatible, something we should have realized in three years. But sometimes you get stuck in a comfort zone with no desire to leave. Unfortunately, accidents happen, although I wouldn’t change anything as far as my son’s concerned.”

      Uncomfortable with the course of the conversation, Logan decided to turn the topic to their plans for the day. “Are you ready to go now?”

      “Do you still want me to go?”

      “Yeah. Any reason why I wouldn’t?”

      “I could think of several reasons why you might reconsider. Introducing a blind, divorcée with a child to your parents, for one.”

      “My parents aren’t judgmental, Jenna.” In fact, they would probably fall in love with her after five minutes in her company—and immediately start jumping to conclusions.