Forgiven (2 page)

That was another thing. He was angry that his parents hadn’t explained the whole adoption thing to him. It wasn’t enough to 3

tell a little kid that some other mother gave birth to him. What was he supposed to make of that? If he hadn’t run into Luke Baxter at his attorney’s office more than a year ago, he never would’ve known who his biological mother was at all.

But he knew now, and because of the photographers—the parasites that stayed within breathing distance of him at all times—the Baxters might as well not exist. And that made him mad too. But nothing made him angrier than the stalker who attacked Katy Hart and him last month, the lunatic fan who because of some wild delusion actually believed she was married to him. The woman’s case was going to trial in May, and he’d have to see her again. Sit across from her while he took the witness stand. The jury better throw the book at her.

He pictured her, the way she’d jumped out of the bushes, grabbing Katy and holding the knife to her throat. After that there was no way Katy would take the starring role Dayne had offered her. She couldn’t wait to get back to Bloomington, where he’d found her. But the girl had captured his heart and mind and soul. He sighed and stared out the window at the ocean beyond his backyard.

Katy Hart. Even now he couldn’t forget about her.

A week ago something happened that reminded him of how the memory of her had become part of his being. His housekeeper was out sick for three days, and Dayne had tried his hand at a load of laundry. Hidden among a basketful of his white Tshirts was a pair of red Ohio State running shorts. By the time Dayne returned to the washing machine, every one of his white shirts was pink.

In a hurry to fix the problem, he grabbed one of the Tshirts and ran it under cold water. He scrubbed it with his hands and then with a washcloth and finally with a wire brush. He could get the pink out and make the T-shirt white again, he figured, if he rubbed hard enough, if he worked at it, if he put an extra dose

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of effort into the job. But it was impossible. The red had become part of the white, woven into every fiber.

That’s how it was with Katy.

She was there when he woke up and waiting for him when he lay down at night.

Sure, he had hours when she didn’t come to mind, but then she’d rush back in.

Never mind that she hadn’t returned his phone calls or made any contact with him since she returned to Bloomington. Forget the fact that he’d probably never see her again. She was there—nothing he could do about it.

He looked at the back inside cover of the Kabbalah book again. Truths that would set him free? Yeah. He needed freedom, all right. Plenty of it. Freedom from his anger and guilt and ob session with Katy.

And maybe freedom from Kelly Parker too. Living with her was like living a lie, waking up beside her every morning, parrot ing I love you’s every night. When they were done with the film, he’d tell her goodbye. She’d be fine. Her next leading man was only a film away.

The thing was, he didn’t want to wait until they were done filming. Especially when they’d be spending the first two weeks on location in the place he’d pushed for, the place he felt would give the best picture of a small town. The one location where he didn’t want a girlfriend hanging on his arm.

Bloomington, Indiana.

Ashley Baxter Blake had to talk to her husband.

Only Landon could fully understand the importance of the information in her hand. Information that would change all of their lives. All she had to do was find him. Because on this fall day, Landon and Cole, their son, were at Lake Monroe, taking advantage of the summerlike day Bloomington was famous for.

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This was the sort of news that couldn’t wait until they came home, good day or not. Of course, Cole didn’t need to find out, not right away. But Landon? He deserved to know as soon as possible. She stared at the information, tried to absorb the reality of what it meant to all of them. But especially what it would mean to her husband.

He’d stood by her as far back as she could remember, through her darkest hours when she was alone and pregnant with Cole, in the days following September 11

when everything in their worlds felt upside down, and even when her health was in desperate jeopardy.

Landon had been there through all of it.

She made the decision quickly—the way she made most of her decisions. Without stopping to tidy up the kitchen or check her look in the mirror or make sure every door was locked, she snatched her keys from the kitchen desk, hooked her purse on her forearm, and hurried out to her car.

The information was still in her hand, the way it would stay until she reached the lake. On the ride there, she fought tears, refusing them because how could she be crying when she found him? They could cry later, together.

When she finally pulled into the gravel lot at the lake, she parked and ran lightly down the path to the water’s edge, where she saw the shaded backs of Landon and Cole, sitting on the old red ice chest, the one with the plastic hinges and the crack along the right side.

She slowed, and when she was ten yards from them she stopped and took in the picture of them. Landon, tall with muscled shoulders, elbows resting on his thighs, the fishing pole out in front of him; and Cole, his blond hair sticking out from under his baseball cap.

They were something together. Ashley never missed the fact, never got tired of watching the way Cole thrived in Landon’s

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presence. She closed her eyes, and for a moment she let the breeze off the lake wash over her.

A single deep breath and she stared at the information in her hand one more time. It was really there, shouting up at her that everything was about to change. Even the picture of Cole and Landon in front of her. When she took another step, a few early fallen leaves crunched beneath her feet.

Landon turned around. “Ashley …” His smile lit his face. “You came!”

She hid her hand behind her back. “I, uh…” Think, Ashley, think of something to say. “It was too nice to stay home.”

Cole turned around, and as he did, he dropped his fishing pole. “Mommy!” He scrambled off the ice chest, ran to her, and flung his arms around her waist. “I caught a fish! It wasn’t the biggest guy in the lake, but Daddy says we can keep it and eat it for dinner!” He tugged on her arm, leading her closer to the wa ter, and pointed at a string of fish anchored on the shore. “See it! It’s the very first one, the one with the little rainbows on it.”

“Wow, Coley!” She stooped down, careful to keep her hand hidden from both of her guys. “He’s perfect for dinner.”

Cole puffed out his chest. “That’s what Daddy said.”

Ashley turned to Landon. “So…” She couldn’t last much lon ger. Not only did he deserve to know, but she couldn’t feign con versation when all she could think about was sharing the news. She shrugged and pointed up the hill toward the parking lot and the kids’ playground adjacent to it. “How ‘bout you two fisher men take a break so Cole can play on the swings?”

Landon must’re read her eyes, because his smile faded. He looked at her as if to say, What, Ashley? What is it now? But none of that came from his mouth. Instead he gave a slow nod and looked at Cole. ‘!Let’s leave our gear for a few minutes, buddy. Okay?”

Cole’s expression fell a little. “How ‘bout we play later?”

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“Well—” Landon was gentle but firm—”Mommy and I need to talk, so let’s take a break. Just for a little bit.”

“Okay.” Cole set his face, resigned. “But the fishes stay here, right, Daddy? In this very spot?”

“Right.” Landon set his pole down on the ground. He winked at Cole. “But here’s the secret—the fish are always right here.”

Cole found his smile as they started up the hill. “Maybe we’ll catch a bigger fish ‘cause this way the fishes will all get tricked that we’re leaving.”

“Exactly.” Landon put his arm around their son and slowed so Cole could keep up.

Ashley’s heartbeat kept time with her feet, thudding through her entire body.

All the while she kept the hand with the news in it behind her back. When she couldn’t stand the slow pace another minute, she leaned down and grinned at Cole. “Race you to the top!”

Cole jumped in the air as he took off through the trees, weaving and hopping and getting to the top a few seconds before Ashley. “You’re pretty fast for a girl, Mommy.” He was out of breath, giggling at her. “Maybe next time.”

Landon jogged up to them just as Cole was making the comment. “I’d say she’s pretty fast, period.” He chuckled.

After talking for a few minutes about whether the bigger fish would come back while they were gone, Cole ran off and found a boy his age to swing with.

As soon as he was gone, Ashley looked up at Landon. Her air seemed stuck near the base of her throat, as if she could neither speak nor draw a deep breath.

“Ash—” Landon searched her face—”what is it?” Concern and surprise filled in the slight lines above his brow. “What’s going on?”

She laughed, but it sounded more like a gasp. “I had to come.” Her arms were shivering, even with the sun directly overhead.

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She fingered the information in her hands, and then in a rush she held it out to Landon.

He glanced at it and then back at her. Then he looked down and squinted, trying to make it out. “What is it?”

“Take it.” She was unable to breathe. “Read it, Landon.” “I’m trying.” He took it from her and narrowed his eyes. Then like the slow lighting of a fluorescent lightbulb, somewhere in his heart it registered. She knew this for one simple reason:

Landon was crying.

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KATY HART HURRIED DOWN THE AISLE of Bloomington Community Church and glanced over the list of kids waiting to audition for the musical production of Annie. One hundred and thirty-eight names, more than at any show so far. Chaos reigned throughout the building, but Katy felt a sense of calm.

Something special was about to happen. She could feel it. Two months earlier she had been ready to accept a leading role in Dayne Matthews’ upcoming film, Dream On, ready to leave Christian Kids Theater and start a new life. But God had showed her where she needed to be, and the answer was clearer than water. She reached her table near the front of the sanctuary and scanned the room. This was her place—she had no doubts.

And because of that, she had the feeling that this play was going to be different from the others, that her purpose as director of CKT in Bloomington was about to be made crystal clear.

“Hi, Katy!” Three girls bounced past her, arms linked. They were fourteen or fifteen, always bubbly and excited.

“Hi, girls.” Katy set her clipboard down. “You ready?”

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FORGIVEN

“Oh, my goodness.” The one with red hair fanned herself, her words fast and breathy. “I’m scared to death. I hate auditions.”

“You do not.” The blonde beside her gave her a light shove. “You just told me you love your song.”

“I love it, but I mean…” She made an exasperated sound and tossed her hands in Katy’s direction. “I’m still scared to death.”

The third girl had short-cropped brown hair. She leaned in and grinned. “Have you seen the new boy?” She pretended to go weak at the knees. “He’s from the public school downtown.” Her voice fell a few notches. “He’s gorgeous, and everyone says he can sing like a dream.”

“He’s not as cute as Tim Reed.” The blonde put her hands on her hips. “No one ever will be.”

The brown-haired girl looked offended. “I’m not talking about just looks here.

The new boy can sing. There’s no one close.”

Katy loved this part, the way the kids confided in her. She raised an eyebrow.

“Well, then, I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?”

The girls giggled in unison, and in a rush they were off. Katy looked to the back of the sanctuary at the kids still streaming in, each with a number pinned to his or her shirt. She hopped onto her chair and clapped her hands, the special clap that all CKT kids were familiar with. As she finished, everyone turned and repeated the clap, leaving a silence over the room.

“Okay.” Katy smiled and made eye contact around the room, spotting the Flanigans and the Reeds and a dozen other families she knew well. “Welcome, everyone. Most of you know the rou tine. I’ll take the first group in just a little bit.”

She paused and a wave of emotion welled in her chest, catch ing her off guard and making it hard for her to talk. It was the feeling of being home. She coughed and found her voice. “Let’s pray.”

They all bowed their heads, and the clusters of kids spread 11

KAREN KINGSBU RY

out across the sanctuary linked hands or put arms around each other.

Katy closed her eyes and began. “God, thank You for every one here today. I pray You will be with the kids auditioning and help them do their very best. For You and because of You, in Jesus’ name, amen.”

The noise immediately picked up, but Katy didn’t mind. Not really. It was a beautiful sound, the mix of kids laughing and singing and delighting in the adventure of musical theater. She squinted and tried to see past the open doorway at the back of the room. Rhonda Sanders, her best friend and assistant direc tor, should have been here by now. Rhonda was choreographing the show, and she would take part in the casting process as well. Kids probably had her cornered in the foyer somewhere.

Heath Hudson walked up behind Katy and put his arm around her. “We’ve got the soundboard ready.” He released her and stood inches away, his eyes on hers.

“How’re you doing?”

“Good.” Katy gave him a warm smile. She liked Heath, liked that he was her age and one of her friends. But she had no feel ings for him beyond that. Part of it was that Rhonda was crazy about him, not that he felt the same way about her.

“It’s you, Katy,” Heath had told her last summer. “I think God has us working together for a reason. I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to feel the same way.”

Yes, Heath had been openly smitten with her since they met a year earlier. He was nice and funny, a successful salesman in his late twenties with a strong faith and sense of family. But the feel ings simply weren’t there for her. The plan this fall was to help turn his interest toward Rhonda.