Kristin Hannah's Family Matters 4-Book Bundle: Angel Falls, Between Sisters, The Things We Do for Love, Magic Hour (28 page)

He’d seen it enough times to know the sequence by
heart. The media circus coming to town. “Jesus, Val, what did you do?”

Val lifted his hands, Christ-like. “You’re white-hot, Juli. A few words whispered in a few ears and the story spread like wildfire. I have to admit, I didn’t expect this kind of turnout.”

“Goddamn it, Val, I
told
you not to—” He stopped. It was too late. They’d seen him.

Reporters swarmed through the doorway, microphones at the ready, cameras stationed on their shoulders. Within seconds, Julian and Val were engulfed. Val winked at him. “Too late to hide now, Juli.”

Julian had to get them out of here. He pushed through the crowd and headed outside, into the freezing cold. The locusts followed, firing questions.

“Julian? Is it true? Have you found your Cinderella?”

“How badly is she hurt?”

“Is she still beautiful?”

“How come there’s no Kayla True registered in this hospital? Is this a hoax?”

Julian held up his hands, forcing his trademark smile. Flashbulbs popped like gum in a whore’s mouth, cords slithered across his feet. “There’s no story here, boys and girls. I’m here for the Make-a-Wish Foundation. That’s all.”

Val thumped him on the back. Hard. “He’s too shy to tell you the truth. You all know that Juli’s first wife, Kayla, was the love of his life. Unfortunately, they were too young …” He paused and glanced around.

Val had them—hook, line, and sinker. Julian could
see it in the reporters’ feverish eyes, hear it in the sudden, indrawn silence.

Julian’s best intentions cracked under the strain. God help him, he couldn’t let Val hog the spotlight. “You can imagine how I felt when I heard that she’d had an accident. I rushed up here to be at her bedside—”

“Why did they call you?” someone shouted out.

“I was told that Kayla had suffered a serious head injury—”

“Is she brain damaged?”

“Maybe that’s why she asked for Julian!”

Val touched Julian’s shoulder lightly, taking the reins of the story again. “She was in a coma for a month. For a while it looked hopeless …” He hesitated, shaking his head sadly. “Then the doctors discovered that Kayla responded to only one thing—the sound of Julian’s name.”

A gasp rippled through the crowd; they recognized the taste and feel of it, the
story
that had just been handed to them. Several reporters glanced at their watches, trying to figure out how to get to their editors before the rest of the crowd.

“Naturally, Julian raced up here,” Val said. “He sat with her, day after day, talking to her, holding her hand, reminding her that there was a man who loved her and was waiting for her to waken.” He gave them a brilliant, here-comes-the-good-part smile. “Yesterday she woke up. Julian was beside her. The first person she saw.”

One of the female reporters sighed. “What were her first words?”

Julian started to answer; no one was listening. “She—”

“Is she brain damaged?”

“Is she still in love with you, Julian?”

Julian sighed. They didn’t care about the miracle of Kayla’s awakening. All they wanted was “the story,” the gilt-edged fairy tale—or, better yet, a scandal. A death. Anything sensational.

He looked around, at the faces. A few he recognized. They came and went, these low-rent reporters from the tabloids. It wasn’t a job that any normal human being could stomach for long.

They were a reflection of his life. Funny, but he’d never realized that before. He’d always dismissed the media as a necessary evil; you couldn’t get famous without them. But now he saw the empty black space that ringed the spotlight. Nothing captured in a glass lens was real.

But Julian had no life except that which was filmed, and that made him the blankest spot of all. He’d traded everything real for the split-second brightness of a camera’s flash.

“That’s enough for today,” he said, wishing he’d never talked to them.

Val grinned. “You’ve got your headline, kids. The kiss of True love wakes up Sleeping Beauty.”

As Liam walked out of Stephen’s office, he heard his name paged over the hospital’s system. He grabbed the nearest phone and punched in his code. The message
was from Rosa. She was waiting for him in the lobby. It was an emergency.

He saw Rosa before she saw him. She was standing in the center of the room—unusual for a woman who always sat in a corner with her head down—with her arms crossed. Even from this distance, he could see the way her mouth was drawn into an angry line.

Something was wrong.

Up close, he could see the worry lines etched around her eyes and mouth. “Rosa?”

“You see what he has done?”

“What are you talking about?”

She took a deep breath. “I am
muy
upset. I am listening to the radio at home while I make the tortillas for tonight’s supper,
sí
? And I hear the local news.” She cocked her head toward the hospital’s front doors, where a crowd was gathered around Julian. “It is the big story, Dr. Liam. They are saying that Julian brought his true love out of a coma.”

“Damn it.” Liam ran down the hall and into the lobby. He saw the crowd gathered outside, and headed for the doors.

Reporters circled Julian, angled toward him like supplicants, microphones instead of prayer books in their outstretched hands. They all talked at once, their questions climbing over each other in a frenzied outburst.

“When will we get to interview Kayla?”

“When will we get a shot of the two of you?”

“What has she been doing all of these years?”

“Are you two going to get married again?”

Liam grabbed Julian by the arm and spun him
around. Trying not to look at the reporters, he said in a quiet voice, “I need to speak to you. Now.”

Julian had the grace to look embarrassed. “Sure thing, Doc.” He threw the crowd a false smile. “This here is Liam Campbell. He’s Kayla’s … doctor.”

The crowd had a dozen simultaneous questions. Liam ignored them. Hanging on to Julian’s arm, he dragged him into the lobby, past Rosa, and into an empty examining room.

An instant later, the door opened and Rosa walked in.

“Hi, Rosa,” Julian said, then turned to Liam. “I’m so sorry, Liam. I told my agent to keep the press away, but he ignored me. Really, I’m sorry. And believe me, they’re like termites—once they infest your house, you have to deal with them. If I didn’t talk to them, God knows what story they’d come up with. At least this way it’s the truth.”

Liam looked at him. “
Your
truth, maybe.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve spoon-fed them a romance, haven’t you, with you as the hero of the piece, the white knight who arrived in a black limousine and pulled her back from the brink of death.”

“You have not heard the worst of it, Dr. Liam,” Rosa said, shuffling toward the two men. “When I was walking into the hospital, I heard the questions. The reporters were asking about his daughter.”

“Jesus
Christ
.” Liam grabbed Julian by the shoulders and shook him. “Tell me you protected her. Tell me you didn’t say a goddamn word about your daughter.”

Julian winced. “I protected her—honestly, but
Val … he told them that she was a cheerleader at the high school.”

For the first time in his life, Liam punched a man. He drew back his fist and slammed it into Julian’s pretty-boy jaw. Pain radiated all the way up his arm. “There are only eight cheerleaders at the high school.”

He turned to his mother-in-law. “You stay here with Mike. Keep the press away from her. I’ll get the kids and be back as soon as I can. We’ll come in through the back way.”

Please let me get to her in time
.

Liam glanced at the clock on the Explorer’s dashboard: 3:05. Cheerleader practice ended five minutes ago …

He pressed harder on the gas. At the entrance to the high school, he knew he was going too fast. When he turned the wheel, the tires skidded sideways. For a split second, he lost control of the car. Then the tires grabbed hold. The car hurtled down the driveway and into the parking lot.

He was too late. Already there was a crowd of reporters outside the school’s front doors. Klieg lights stood on their perimeter like black insects. They were all talking at once; their combined voices sounded like the start-up of a buzz saw.

Liam lurched out of the car and ran toward them. The ground was slick and mushy with old snow, and twice he almost fell. By the time he reached the sidewalk, his heart was hammering.

“Jacey!” His voice was lost in the din.

Reporters circled the small group of cheerleaders like a pack of wolves, jockeying for position, making it impossible for Liam to get through. They were shouting out questions, one after another.

“Which one of you is Juliana?”

He heard Mrs. Kurek, the cheerleader adviser, answer, “There’s no Juliana here, now go away.”

Liam tried to see above the crowd, but there were lights and cameras everywhere, and the reporters knew how to close access.

He screamed his daughter’s name, trying to push through the sardine-packed bodies. It was impossible.

“Which one of you has a mother in a coma?”

He knew that all it would take is a look at Jacey …

“There she is!”

The mob shifted, separated, and came back together around Jacey, cutting her off from everyone else with practiced ease. Wolves separating a baby lamb from the herd.

“Are you Kayla’s daughter?”

“Are you Juliana?”

He could see that Jacey was breathing heavily. She was afraid. “I’m Jacey,” she answered softly. “My mom’s in a coma.…”

A microphone flew at her face, almost hit her in the nose. “How does it feel to be his daughter?”

Liam screamed her name. He grabbed hold of the cameraman in front of him and shoved. The camera fell to the ground, the man stumbled sideways.

Liam surged through the opening. “Jace—come here!”

Above the crowd, their gazes met. Liam saw the fear in his daughter’s eyes. He saw when she gave way to panic; not all at once, but in little breaths. He plowed through the crush of bodies. She held out her hands toward him.

He pushed and shoved his way forward, his hands outstretched, fingertips straining to touch hers.

“How does it feel to be Julian True’s daughter?” someone yelled out.

A hush fell. Jacey looked at Liam, her mouth open, her eyes widening in shock.

“Jesus Christ, she doesn’t know—”

“Move in, Bert, get a shot of her face
—now—
”

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Liam screamed the words. He threw himself forward, knocking people aside, ramming them with his elbows.

At last he was at her side. He slipped an arm around Jacey and pulled her close. He could feel her trembling. “It’s okay, honey,” he whispered in her ear, even though he knew it wasn’t true.

“Who are you?” someone shouted at him.

“It’s the doctor,” someone else said. “What are you—”

“She has no comment.” Liam heard the snarl in his voice; it was an unfamiliar sound that came from a dark place deep inside him. He dragged a dazed Jacey through the crowd and helped her into the Explorer.

The reporters followed them all the way, still shouting out questions and popping photographs. The last thing
Liam heard as he slammed the car door was “Get the license plate number.”

He started the engine and hit the gas. The car surged forward, tires spinning on the slushy snow, and spun out of the parking lot.

His heart was hammering, and there was a coppery fear taste in his mouth. He’d never felt so ashamed and defeated in his life. He had failed to protect her. It was his fault. The daughter he loved more than his own life had been hurt.

Jacey twisted around in her seat, watching the road behind them. “They’re not following us,” she said in a watered-down version of her ordinary voice.

Liam veered left onto the snowy, unmaintained forest service road that led to Angel Falls State Park. He chose this road because it only appeared on the most detailed maps of the area. No one would follow them here.

When they reached the end of the road, they found the empty parking lot as pristine as a new sheet of paper. In the late afternoon it was dark in these deep woods.

He parked near the information board, a rough-hewn wooden pyramid that told the story of these falls, discovered and named by Ian Campbell in honor of his beloved wife.

Liam took a deep breath and turned at last to his daughter. “I couldn’t get to you fast enough.”

She looked at him, her dark eyes confused and afraid. “Is it true, Dad?”

He wanted to be angry with Mike right now, but as
it was, all he felt was cold and hollow. “It’s true. Your mom was married to Julian True.”

The color faded from her cheeks. She looked impossibly young and vulnerable. “He’s my father?”

Father
. The word hit Liam like a blow to the larynx. For a moment he couldn’t speak, and when he did find his voice, it was dull and flat. “Yes.”

Her eyes rounded. “Oh, my
God …
”

He waited for her to say more, but she remained silent. It felt to Liam as if seawater were rising between them, rising, becoming a rippling wall that distorted their images. He tried to think of what it was that he should say, but that emptiness was inside him again, bleeding into the silence. Finally he told her the only truth that mattered. “I should have told you—”