Dance to the Piper (26 page)

Then they were standing, first one, then two, then a dozen. Hundreds of people rose up to their feet and shouted for her. Stunned, she could only stand there and look.

"Take another bow," Wanda said to her in an undertone. "You earned it."

Maddy broke out of her trance and bowed again before linking hands with Wanda and her partner. The cast as a unit bowed again, and the curtain came down. The applause kept coming, wave after wave, as Maddy threw her arms around Wanda and squeezed.

The unity was there, a line of dancers, a group of actors, all of whom had worked and studied and rehearsed endless hours for this one moment. So they held on to it as the curtain, for a moment, cut them off from the audience and ranged them together.

"Here we go again," Maddy said, and locked her hands tight.

The curtain rose and fell twenty-six times.

It took Maddy some time to work her way back to her dressing room. There were people to hug and a few tears to be shed. Macke scooped her up in his arms and kissed her full on the mouth.

"You better be just as damn good tomorrow," he told her.

It was a riot backstage, with dancers whooping around and planning a big celebration. They were a hit. Whatever adjustments, polishing or tightening that would have to be done before Broadway couldn't take away from the fact that they were a hit. No one could take it away from them. The hours and hours of work, sweat and repetition had paid off.

Feet clattered on stairs as members of the chorus scrambled up to their dressing rooms. Someone had a trumpet and was blaring out reveille. Maddy squeezed through the crowd in the hall and into her own room. There she collapsed on a chair and stared at her own reflection.

There were pots and tubes jumbled over the surface of the table. Greasepaint, powder, every color of the rainbow. Above it, she studied her own face, then broke into a grin.

She'd done it

Her dressing room door opened, and part of the riot slipped in. She saw her father first, the boa slung around his shoulders like a mantle of victory. Energy poured back into her as she jumped out of her chair to fling herself into his arms.

"Pop. It was great. Tell me it was great."

"Great? Twenty-six curtain calls is better than great."

"You counted."

"Of course I counted." He squeezed her hard until her feet left the floor. "That was my girl out there. My baby girl knocking them dead. I'm so proud of you, Maddy."

"Oh, Pop, don't cry." Sniffling herself, she reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. "You'd have been proud of me if I'd flopped." She dried his eyes. "That's why I love you."

"How about a hug for your mother?" Molly held out her arms and gathered Maddy close. "All I could think of was the first time we put you in dance shoes. I could hardly believe it was you, so strong, so vital. Strong." Molly drew her back by the shoulders. "That's what you are, Madeline O'Hurley."

"My heart's still racing." Laughing, Abby embraced her sister. "Every time you came out, I'd grab Dylan's hand. I don't know how many fingers I broke. Ben kept telling the woman beside him you were his aunt. I just wish—"

"I know, I wish Chantel could have been here, too." She leaned down to hug Ben, then glanced up at Chris, who was nestled droopy eyed in Dylan's arms.

"I didn't fall asleep," Chris told her with a huge yawn. "I watched the whole thing. It was pretty."

"Thanks. Well, Dylan, do you think we're ready for Broadway?"

"I think you're going to rock Broadway back on its heels. Congratulations, Maddy." Then he grinned and let his gaze slide down her. "I also liked your costumes."

"Flashy, but brief," she said with a chuckle as she glanced down at the red merry widow she wore.

"We have to get the kids back." Abby looked at Ben. His hand was already caught in Dylan's. "We'll see you tomorrow, before we go. Call me." Abby touched

Maddy's arm in a gesture that said everything. "I'll be thinking of you."

"We'll be going, too." Frank sent Molly a sidelong look. "You'll be running out of here to celebrate with the rest of the cast."

"You know you're welcome to come—" Maddy began.

"No, no, we need our rest. We've got a gig in Buffalo in a couple of days. Come on, let's leave the girl to change." Frank nudged his family along, then paused at the door. "You were the best, turnip."

"No." She remembered everything just then—his patience, the joy he'd given to her, the magic he'd passed on when he'd taught her to dance. "You were, Pop."

Maddy sighed and sat again. She drew a rose out of its vase to hold it to her cheek. The best, she thought, shutting her eyes. Why wasn't it enough?

When the door opened again, she straightened in her chair and had her smile ready. Reed stood in the doorway, with noise and confusion reigning behind him. Very carefully Maddy set the rose back in place. The bright smile didn't seem so necessary now.

"Do you mind if I come in?"

"No." But she didn't look at him. Deliberately she turned to the mirror and peeled off her lashes.

"I don't have to tell you how terrific you were." He shut the door on the stream of noise outside.

"Oh, I don't get tired of hearing it." She dipped her hand into a pot of cold cream, then smeared it on. "So you stayed for the show."

"Of course I stayed." She was making him feel like an idiot. He'd never pursued a woman before, not this way. And he knew if he made another mistake he'd lose her for good. When he came up behind her, he saw her hand hesitate, then tremble before she continued to rub in the cream. It eased the tension at the back of his neck. He hadn't lost her yet.

"I guess you know you got your money's worth." Maddy pulled out a tissue and began to wipe off the cream and layers of makeup.

"Yes, I do." He set a large blue box on the table at her elbow. She forced herself to ignore it. "But my father's taking over the show-business side. He wanted me to tell you how much he enjoyed tonight, how incredible he thought you were."

"I though he'd come back."

"He knew I needed to see you alone."

She tossed tissues in the wastebasket. Mary was gone, and there was only Maddy now. Rising, she reached for a robe. "I need to get out of costume. Do you mind?"

"No." He kept his eyes on hers. "I don't mind."

Because she decided he wouldn't make it easy, Maddy simply nodded and moved behind a Chinese screen. "So, you must be going back to New York tomorrow."

"No."

The hooks slipped out from between her fingers. Setting her teeth, Maddy attacked them again. "If your father's taking over, there's no need for you to stay."

"I'm not going anywhere, Maddy. If you want to make me crawl, I guess you're entitled."

She slammed the costume over the screen. "I don't want to make you crawl. That's ridiculous."

"Why? I've been a complete fool. I'm ready to admit it, but if you're not ready to accept it, I can wait."

She yanked the tie on her robe before she came around the screen. "You don't play fair. You've never played fair."

"No, I haven't. And it's cost me." He took a step toward her but saw from the look in her eyes that he could go no farther. "If it means I have to start over, from this point, I'll start over. I want you, Maddy, more than I've ever wanted anything or anyone."

"Why are you doing this?" She pulled a hand through her hair and looked for a way out. There wasn't one. "Every time I convince myself it's done and over with, every time I say okay, Maddy, give it up, you pull the rug out from under me. I'm tired of falling on my rear end with you, Reed. I just want to find my balance again."

This time he went to her, because nothing could stop him. His eyes were very dark, but she didn't see the panic in them. "I know you can live without me. I know you can shoot right to the top without me. And maybe, just maybe, I can walk away from you and survive. I don't want to risk it. I'll do whatever I can not to."

"Don't you understand, if the foundation isn't there, if we don't understand each other, don't trust each other, it won't ever work? I love you, Reed, but—"

"Don't say anything else." Though she held herself stiff, he drew her close. "Let me hang on to that for a minute. I've done a lot of thinking, a lot of changing, since I met you. Things were pretty black-and-white before you came along. You've added the color, and I don't want to lose that. No, don't say anything," he repeated. "Open the box first."

"Reed—"

"Please, just open the box first." If he knew her as well as he thought, as well as he hoped, that would say more to her than he could.

Strong. Her mother had told her she was strong. She had to believe it now. Maddy turned away and lifted the top on the box. For a moment, she could only state.

"I didn't send you flowers," Reed began. "I figured you'd have plenty of them. I thought—I hoped—this would mean more. Hannah had a hell of a time getting it up here."

Speechless, Maddy lifted the plant out. When she'd given it to him, it had been soggy and yellowed and already rotting away. Now it was green and vivid, with strong young shoots. Because her hands were unsteady, she set it down on the table.

"A minor miracle," Reed murmured. "It didn't die when it should have. It just kept fighting, just kept thriving. You can make miracles happen if you want them badly enough. You told me that once, and I didn't believe it. I do now." He touched her hair and waited until she looked back at him. "I love you. All I want is for you to give me a lifetime to prove it."

She stepped into his arms. "Start now."

With laughter and relief he brought his lips to hers and felt the welcome. She drew him closer with a sigh, holding on with all the love, all the strength, she would promise him.

"I never had a chance," he murmured. "Not from the first minute I saw you. Nothing, thank God, has been the same for me since." But he drew her away, needing to pass the last hurdle. "Those things I said this afternoon—"

Placing a finger over his lips, she shook her head. "You're not going to try to back out of marrying me now."

"No." He held her close again, then let her go. "No, but I can't ask you until you know everything about me." It was hard, harder than he'd thought it could be. He let his hands drop away from her. "Maddy, my father…"

"Is an exceptional man," she finished for him, taking his hand. "Reed, he told me everything weeks ago."

"He told you?"

"Yes." She reached up to soothe the tension before it could form. "Did you think it would make a difference?"

"I couldn't be sure."

She shook her head. Rising on her toes, she kissed him again, letting the love pour out "Be sure. There's no candlelight," she pointed out. "And I don't want you to get down on one knee. But I do want you to ask me."

He took both of her hands, and as he brought them to his lips, his eyes never left her. "I love you, Maddy. I want to spend my life with you, have children with you, take chances with you. I want to sit in the front row and watch you explode on the stage and know when it's over you'll come home to me. Will you marry me?"

The smile came slowly, until it lighted her whole face. She opened her mouth, then let out a groan as a sharp knock sounded at her door.

"Get rid of them," Reed demanded.

Maddy gave his hands a quick squeeze. "Just don't move. Don't even breathe." She yanked the door open, prepared to shut it again just as quickly.

"Your five, Miss O'Hurley." One of the stagehands grinned at her and offered her a bill. "Mets took it 4-3. Looks like you just can't lose tonight."

She took the bill and ran it through her hands. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled at Reed. "You're so right."