The water was colder than she’d expected.
Kayla shivered, and dug her toes into the sand as another wave rolled
past, threatening to knock her down.
"You okay?" Allie and Brigit were hovering
nearby, ready to grab her arms if she staggered. "Next time, turn
sideways. The waves don’t hit you as hard that way."
"It’s not that!" Her teeth were starting to
chatter. "I’m freezing!"
Alex’s bark of laughter warned her that he’d waded
over to join them. She wrapped both arms around her ribs, as much
to combat her suddenly pounding heart as to counter her shivering.
"You’ll adjust quick enough," Brigit predicted
with a grin. Moonlight shimmered on her freckled face, making her
look like one of the mystical fairy-folk. "You just have to plunge
all the way in!"
Laughter and splashing all around them proved that
it was possible to submerge, and not turn into a solid block of ice.
But Kayla wasn’t feeling quite that brave just yet. "I’ll take it
slow, thank you!" she laughed. "You go ahead, I’ll be fine!"
"I’ll warm you up." Before she could jolt
away, Alex’s long arms encircled her, and she was drawn back against his
hard bare chest. She gasped at the shock of his long, muscular
frame. Her heart began to thunder like a team of galloping horses.
And she knew that he could feel it, through her thin damp t-shirt.
"Mac, don’t." Her protest was so weak, she
barely even heard it herself. "I can’t, I need time to..."
"What you need," he murmured in her ear, "is
someone to bring you back alive."
He turned her around, and felt her small hands
curl instinctively around his shoulders. Every nerve in his body
began to hammer with need.
A surging wave thrust them together, and he
tightened his grip to steady her. Allie and Brigit exchanged a
single knowing glance, then tactfully vanished into the darkness.
"I don’t know what you mean," she stammered when
the wave receded, and she regained her shaky footing. "I am
alive! More alive than I’ve ever been before!"
He gently cupped her face in his hands. "No,
you’re not. Look at me, Kayla."
The silvery moon made a halo of his thick black
air. Kayla’s breath caught in her throat as she hesitantly lifted
her gaze. Something fierce was burning in his eyes, something that
kindled a blazing inferno deep inside her own trembling body.
"You’re alive in every way but the most important
part," he told her. "There’s a part of you, deep inside, that’s
been turned off for so long, you’ve forgotten how to let yourself feel,
and want, and need! And until you stop hiding from the pain, and
learn to face it, you’ll never be fully alive again!"
She wanted to pull away from him, and laugh at his
fanciful imagination. A muffled sob emerged instead, and her eyes
shimmered with brimming tears. "I can’t! Don’t you see that
I can’t?" she cried, helplessly clenching her fists. "You don’t
know what it was like, you can’t possibly imagine how it felt to
know that my whole life was suddenly destroyed! That there was
nothing I could do to stop it, or change it! That every dream I’d
ever had was gone, and the rest of my life was going to be empty and
alone!"
She didn’t know how long the words had been buried
inside her, screaming for release. She hardly even knew what she
was saying as she rocked back and forth, impotently pounding her fists
on his broad shoulders. "I can’t take a chance on letting that
happen again! If it did, it would destroy me!"
She wrenched away so suddenly that he stumbled,
and was gone before he could regain his footing. He was tempted to
follow, if only to make sure she wasn’t hurt in her wild scramble down
the beach.
But common sense won out. She needed more
time. She needed to accept, in her own heart, that Patrick was
truly dead. And with that knowledge would come the inevitable need
to grieve.
She’d found comfort through the years by believing
that a part of him was still with her. But it was time to move on. Time to let him
go. Time to let another man into her heart.
So Alex stood in the churning surf, and watched
her run away.
It was a small island. She couldn’t avoid
him forever.
• • • • • •
Kayla didn’t know which
way she was going. In her blind panic, she let instinct turn her
feet north. The cool sand gave beneath her weight as she staggered
on, dashing fiery tears from her cheeks.
He didn’t understand.
He couldn’t! He’d never suffered what she had. He’d never
lost his entire world in one shrieking moment of twisted steel and
shattered glass!
For one terrifying
moment, she saw Anthony’s sleek red sports car veering out of control,
streaking through the pouring rain to smash headlong into Patrick’s
battered old station wagon. Her hands flew up in a vain attempt to
avoid the sickening impact.
Warm wind brushed over
her, like a soothing caress. Blinking, she slowly opened her eyes
again. She was huddled down, like a frightened child, in the
powdery sand. Safe. Alive. But oh, so alone!
For a long time she
remained frozen, barely daring to breathe. The pain was so vivid,
she could feel anew each gash and laceration marring her body. She
could feel the hot blood trickling down her face. And she could
feel the raw ache at somehow knowing, without ever having been told,
that her beloved husband and son were gone.
Darkness had been a
blessing that she’d embraced willingly. Even after they’d restored
her face and body with surgery’s finest miracles, she had stayed hidden,
cowering, in the comforting darkness.
Until she’d heard Troy
MacAllister’s rich voice. Until his compelling memory had reached
through the protective fog, touching a piece of her heart that she’d
thought dead forever.
Only he could have drawn
her back from the endless abyss. And only he had the power to send
her there again.
She couldn’t allow that
to happen.
Slowly she stood, and
brushed sand from her hands and knees. She’d wanted to see more of
the filming. But there was one place she needed to visit alone,
without any curious or sympathetic eyes following her every move.
In her screenplay, the
island’s mysterious upper cave was home to ancient microscopic spores
with incredible healing powers. She couldn’t count the number of
times she’d imagined herself there, inhaling the spores’ rejuvenating
pollen, to restore the life in her useless legs. If miracles
really could happen, she’d always mused, tapping industriously on
her laptop, surely that would be the place.
Well, she’d made the
miracle happen without any magical prehistoric spores. But the
cave was still waiting up there, calling to her.
She’d been searching for
peace and happiness for so very long!
Maybe, if miracles really
could happen, she could find them both up there.
• • • • • •
The ski lift was shut
down for the night. Kayla stared up at the motionless chairs, and
groaned with frustration. There was no way she could climb the
mountainside, not after dark and certainly not when her legs were
already aching from the day’s exertions.
But she just had to get
up there somehow!
A soft footfall made her
turn. Alex was quietly watching her from the shadows. "I
thought you might come here eventually," he murmured, stepping closer.
"Can I give you a lift?"
Mac’s flippant query made
her heart ache. "I want to go up alone."
"Sorry, no can do," he
replied with a cheerful smile. "We work on a buddy system here.
No one goes traipsing off into unfamiliar areas alone."
She stared up at him in
silent confusion. "Are you my buddy?" she whispered.
"I’m whoever and whatever
you want me to be."
Alex’s sober answer
brought fresh tears to her eyes. Blinking hard, she turned away.
"If you can work this thing, be my transportation engineer."
• • • • • •
She should have expected
that he’d follow. Hadn’t he warned her, in no uncertain terms,
that he wasn’t going to let her wander alone again?
Maybe he did care, just a
little, after all.
But she still didn’t want him
to ruin her first glimpse of the mysterious spores’ cave. That was
something she needed to do by herself. So she bravely
marched into the darkened tunnel alone, before he could scramble off the
ski lift.
Dr. Bob’s sfx wizardry
would have nebulous shadows, faces that MacAllister and Conners would
recognize from their past, floating along the rocky walls. Someday
she’d take special pleasure watching it on the silver screen, and
remember walking that same narrow corridor herself, with only her own
special ghosts for company.
Thick blackness slowly
gave way to a faint greenish glow that grew stronger as she ventured
deeper. That was another sfx miracle, one created to her unique
specifications. Dr. Bob had talked her ear off one night,
describing how they’d installed motion sensors that would brighten the
cave’s ‘natural’ luminescence smoothly, no matter how fast or slowly a
person moved through the tunnel. She hadn’t understood all the
technical terms--but she could definitely appreciate the finished
product.
The inner cave was fully
lit, glowing like a giant emerald, by the time she finally reached its
low rounded entrance. Like MacAllister and Conners would, she
stopped and stared in wonder. It was exactly as she’d imagined it.
The curving walls were
layered in some sort of textured crystal. Vivid green light
glittered on all sides. Like a leprechaun’s paradise, she
thought with a whimsical smile.
Against the back wall, a
thick stone ridge circled a low, sweeping pool of water that steamed and
slowly bubbled. Shimmering droplets tumbled over the time-worn
edge, puddled on the ground, then lazily meandered out through the
tunnel and down the steep mountainside.
That murky water, infused
with the spores’ thick pollen, would have remarkable healing properties.
But the spores themselves, which would turn from electric green to vivid
blue when touched, had the power to cure any disease known to man.
And quite a few that hadn’t yet been classified.
Even knowing that it was
all artificial didn’t lessen the dramatic impact. Kayla felt awed,
swept away with speechless delight.
Breathlessly she lowered
herself onto the edge of the pool. It looked like ancient stone,
felt like ancient stone beneath her spread palms. By some miracle,
had it already existed before they’d chosen to use this cave for the
movie?
Alex hesitated in the
entryway, and silently watched her. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d
known that she’d come here tonight. Mac had a bizarre way of
‘knowing’ things that charmed the audience, and baffled his enigmatic
partner. Was he absorbing so much of Mac’s personality that
prescience was becoming an ingrained trait?
Kayla looked up then, and
saw him. He hadn’t wanted to intrude, but the rapturous light in
her eyes made him feel ten feet tall. "Oh, Mac, it’s perfect!" she
laughed, throwing her arms wide. "Better than perfect! It’s
like something out of a dream! You can feel it, can’t you!"
He could. There was
magic here. Not the sort where you waved silly wands and chanted
tongue-twisting incantations. This was something deeper, more
profound. Something that touched the depths of his soul.
"You’re beautiful."
It wasn’t at all what
he’d intended to say, but the startled pleasure on her face made him
glad that he had.
Kayla shyly smiled at
him. "I wasn’t always, you know. Back before the crash, I
really looked quite plain. But my face was totally destroyed by
shattered glass. The Templetons wanted only the best--to make up
for what Anthony had done, I suppose," she sighed, and rubbed a weary
hand over her eyes. "So they hired the world’s finest plastic
surgeons to fix the damage.
"Back when we first got
married, I had this glamour picture taken for Patrick, you know the kind
where they make you up to look like a sex goddess? The surgeons
used that picture for a model, and then improved on it in a dozen ways.
Sometimes it still shocks me to look in a mirror."
Instinctively he scanned
her face for any telltale scars. But there were none. Kayla
Farrell was exactly as she appeared--fresh, wholesome, breathtakingly
gorgeous. Even in the lurid green glow cascading over them both.
"How did it happen?"
He hadn’t meant to pry, but the question escaped before he could draw it
back. And somehow, it no longer seemed quite so taboo.
Another pensive sigh
escaped her. Turning, she trailed one slender finger through the
cool bubbling water. "It was all my fault, really," she murmured
over her shoulder. "There was this delightful little Irish pub
that played live music every Sunday night. I liked to go, and play
my pennywhistle, and dance the night away. Patrick enjoyed it well
enough, but it was my passion. I just couldn’t get enough!"
The eloquent sadness in
her eyes, for all she’d had--and all she’d lost--nearly broke his heart.
He wanted to sweep her up, hold her close, protect her from the pain.
"Normally I went alone,
but that night I asked him to come. And so of course we brought
Sean with us. He loved to jump up and down on the stage, and
pretend he was a famous dancer." A reminiscent smile curved her
lips. "No matter what he was doing, he always enjoyed life so
much!
"It had started raining
by the time we left, and the roads were slippery. It was very
late." She shut her eyes, half-expecting that blinding moment of
terror to sweep over her again. To her relief, only the peaceful
green glow seeped through her closed eyelids. "Suddenly there was
this flash of light, and squealing brakes, and then the whole world went
crazy. The car spun sideways and tilted, and we went over an
embankment. I remember hearing Sean scream, and the sound of
breaking glass."
Alex’s arms were around
her, warm and comforting. She leaned against him, and felt his
heart beating rapidly. Without thinking, she raised a hand to
stroke his angular face. "The next thing I knew, it was three
years later, and Mac was on the television, staring down and talking to
me. And the rest, as they say, is history."
He hadn’t meant to kiss
her, but her sweet gesture was impossible to resist.
Kayla’s lips parted, welcoming,
warming, under his. Her hands tightened, pulling him closer.
But then a surge of blinding panic overwhelmed the drugging pleasure.
Heart thudding, she jerked back and convulsively shook her head.
"Please, Mac, no! I can’t do this," she gasped, raising both hands
to ward him off.
She was trembling.
He’d frightened her again. Alex cursed under his breath, and slid
his hands down her arms in a soothing caress. "Kayla, don’t be
scared. I swear I won’t hurt you!"
She forced the terror
back under control, and mustered a wavering smile. "I know you
won’t. The problem isn’t you, Mac. It’s me." Her
cheeks began to burn with embarrassment, and she nervously turned away.
"They fixed my face and replaced a bunch of organs, but the damage went
a lot deeper than you know. I can’t..."
There simply wasn’t any
easy way to say it. Before she lost her courage completely, she
blurted, "I can’t make love to you. To anyone. I’m sorry!"
That was not what he’d
expected to hear, and he blinked in surprise. "Why not? They
didn’t accidentally slip with the knife, did they, and turn you into a
man?"
She spun back around and
stared at him in shock, then burst into tearful laughter. "No,
they didn’t turn me into a man! Honestly, Mac!"
"Then what?" His
dark eyes were gentle with compassion as he drew her close again.
"Kayla, if I don’t know, I can’t help. And I do want to help."
"I don’t think you can
help with this." Her voice was muffled against his bare chest.
She tried very hard to keep from wrapping her arms around his lean
waist. And almost succeeded. A heavy sigh shuddered through
her as his heartbeat quickened against her cheek. "I can’t...feel
anything. Down there." It was easier to force the words out
when she couldn’t see his face. "God knows I’ve tried. But
those nerves, they haven’t rerouted, like in my back and legs."
"You can’t feel
anything?"
He was stroking her hair
with those long, clever fingers. Oh God, she wanted to melt into
him, and leave the world behind!
"A little. Not
much. Not enough." She didn’t dare risk looking at him,
certain his navy-blue eyes would be filled with revulsion. Hot
shame scalded her cheeks as she haltingly forced the words out.
"Trying only makes it worse. Mac, don’t you see? It wouldn’t
be fair to start something I can’t finish! You deserve so much
more than that!"
Righteous anger
overwhelmed his initial shock. "I deserve! How about
what you deserve?" he demanded, holding her at arm’s length.
"Are you content to drift through life always settling for second best?"
"Of course not!"
She jerked free, and fierce resentment sharpened her voice. "I’m
here, aren’t I? I fought for three long years to make this movie a
reality! Even getting Jerry to look at the script was a
major triumph! But you wouldn’t understand that, because
everything comes so easily to you! You’ve never been sick a day in
your life! You’ve never had to struggle against a handicap so
severe, it made you wish you were dead!"
Sick dread pooled in his
guts, and he grabbed her arms tightly enough to hurt. "Don’t ever
talk that way, Kayla. Not ever!"
He was furious--but his
churning rage was for her, not at her. Kayla’s own
spiraling anger dissolved in a rush of mute gratitude. Had anyone
besides Brigit ever cared this way, so intense and protective? Had
anyone else ever understood so clearly?
"I don’t feel that way
anymore," she reassured him with a wan smile. "But at first..."
She turned away again,
and restlessly paced across the small chamber. "You can’t possibly
imagine what it was like, waking up to a totally different world," she
whispered, swallowing hard to hide the betraying tremor in her voice.
"Everything had changed! I’d lost three whole years of my
life. We had a different president. I’d missed the terrorist
attacks, the Twin Towers were destroyed, our country was in another war
with Iraq. Even my own face belonged to a glamorous stranger.
It was terrifying!
"At first, MacAllister
and Conners were all that kept me fighting. All that kept me
alive! And I hated you just as much as I loved you, for everything
you were, that I could never be again."
His heart clenched, but
he had to know. "Do you still?"
"No." A slow,
bittersweet smile curved her lips. "I don’t hate you. I
can’t hate you. But I can’t be what you need, either. So I
think we should go back down now. Before anything happens that
we’d both regret."
"I don’t regret kissing
you."
Stinging tears blurred
her vision. She turned away again before Alex could see. "If
it happens again, you will."
