Forgiven (9 page)

FORGIVEN

the man wasn’t convinced about Dayne’s promise. That’s what he loved about working with Mitch. He demanded a lot, but when it came down to it, the guy understood he couldn’t control every aspect of his life.

Dayne winked at him. “You got it.” He snagged his cap from his head and waved it once. “See you next week.”

Less than an hour later when he walked through the door of his Malibu house, he saw Kelly sitting on the deck in a bikini, reading. She rose and came through the patio door. “Hi.” Her swimsuit covered almost nothing, and as she stood there with her hair spilling over her tan shoulders, she looked irresistible.

She set the book down on the counter. “How was your meeting?”

“Good.” He stuffed his keys in his pocket and let his eyes travel slowly down the length of her. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks,” she said it in a cutesy, confident tone. “You too.”

“Hey…” He put his hands on her hips and kissed her. “I’m leaving a few days early for Bloomington.”

She grew slowly rigid and took a step back. “By yourself?”

“Yeah. I need a few days to clear my head before filming starts.”

Kelly picked up the book she’d been reading and held it up for him to see. “What about all the Kabbalah talk? I wanted to go to the service with you this weekend.”

“We’ll go when we get back.” He took a glass from the cup board, set it on the counter, and snagged the jug of carrot juice from the fridge. This was the part he didn’t like about Kelly. Why’d she have to ask so many questions?

“Okay, then I’ll go with you.” She rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped a foot from him. Her tone softened. “Maybe we could both use the time away.”

Dayne ignored her. He poured the juice and returned the jug to the fridge.

“Look.” This time he kept his distance. Her body wasn’t the distraction it had just been. “I need the time to get

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ready for the film. It’s something I always do. A little time by myself to get in the right mind-set, make sure I’m on top of my game.”

“Fine, Dayne.” She slammed the book back down and crossed her arms. “I’ll stop hinting around.” Her expression was dark, angry, and insecure. This was the Kelly Parker he’d seen more often, not the girl with the flirty tone from a few minutes ago. “You want to see her. That’s why you’re going.”

“Who?” The question was an automatic response, and right away Dayne knew it was the wrong one. They both knew who lived in Bloomington. He took a long drink of the carrot juice, his eyes still on hers.

“You know who.” Her voice was thick with sarcasm. “Katy Hart. The sweet, small-town girl who should’ve gotten the part in Dream On. Her, Dayne, remember?”

He took a step closer. “I can’t help it if she lives there. I haven’t talked to her since she went back.” This was ridiculous. He’d just had the same talk with his director. He didn’t have the energy for another one. He drank the rest of his juice, set his glass down near the sink, and hesitated only a moment as he walked past Kelly. He softened his expression. “Look, this isn’t about us. It’s about the film. I just need time, that’s all.”

“Really?” She was all little girl now. Her hand caught his elbow. “You’d tell me… right, Dayne? If your feelings for me changed?”

What was it the Kabbalah book said about times like this? Be honest.., there was freedom in honesty; wasn’t that it? He opened his mouth to tell her that she’d hit it on the head, that, sure enough, that’s exactly what had happened. He’d lost feelings for her. But instead he said, “Of course I’d tell you.” Then he kissed her, hating the way his body still responded to her. After a minute, he pulled back and gave her the slightest grin. “See? Everything’s fine.”

“Well, then…” She pressed herself against him and traced 68

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her finger down the side of his face onto his chin. “Wanna take a nap?”

He shot a quick look at the clock on the microwave. It was al most eleven.

“Actually, I better get my jog in.” He caught her fin ger and kissed it, slow in a way that held promise for later. “Maybe we’ll turn in early tonight.”

She laughed, and he went to get his running shoes. He hadn’t planned on jogging, but he didn’t want to climb into bed with Kelly either. A jog would clear his head, help him understand what he was doing, usually without too much interference from fans or paparazzi. It was a Monday morning, after all. Most of the tourists went home when summer ended, and he knew how to disguise himself like other beachgoers. Especially when he was jogging.

He slipped on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and adjusted his North Carolina baseball cap. He also wore a pair of sunglasses. If he kept up his pace, almost no one would have time to decide whether he was or wasn’t Dayne Matthews. And if the photo hounds snapped a picture of him running on the beach, so be it.

The sun was warm on his shoulders as he trudged down the sandy slope to the shore. He kept his head low, another trick he’d learned over the years. The beach was clear, just a few fish ermen sitting on the distant pier. Dayne kicked into gear, his stride steady. He was fifty yards out when his mind began to clear.

What was he doing, telling Mitch and Kelly all he needed was a little time away when all he could think about was Katy Hart, seeing her again and catching up with her? Had she found some one in Bloomington by now? Did she ever think about him and how close they’d come to working together? And how was her kids’ theater troupe doing?

His feet pounded out a muted rhythm on the sand, and Mitch’s words came back to him. The director was right. What tabloid wouldn’t have a feeding frenzy over the idea of Dayne’s

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meeting again with the woman who’d been with him at Paradise Cove when the attack happened?

At this point the rags only knew that Dayne had been having a meeting with an unknown woman, someone he was considering for the lead role opposite him in Dream On, when a fan wielding a knife jumped out and threatened to kill the young actress.

The story wasn’t about Katy—Mitch was right on. She wouldn’t become interesting unless the paparazzi became convinced that some sort of relationship had developed between her and Dayne. Of course, they could reach that conclusion merely by seeing Dayne with her again.

A seagull swooped low in front of him, squawking, as it headed over the gentle surf. Dayne kept running. If the magazines figured out his interest, the swarm of stories would affect the film. He wiped a layer of sweat off his forehead.

Mitch thought the media attention would hurt the movie. How could the public buy into a love story between Dayne and Kelly if their real-life relationship wasn’t even real?

Dayne picked up his pace. Ahead on the beach, a couple sat on a blanket, too caught up in each other to notice him. The pier was still half a mile ahead, so he kept running.

Mitch was wrong about the publicity. The old adage was still true when it came to getting media attention. Any ink was good ink. So what if they linked him to Katy, right in the middle of filming a movie with the girl he was living with?

All that talk was bound to make people more interested in seeing the film.

No, it wouldn’t hurt the movie, and it wouldn’t hurt him. He’d ridden out the gossip on a dozen young actresses. Anything they could say about Katy Hart would never affect his place in the public eye, his stature in Hollywood. The only person it would

hurt for sure was her.

Katy Hart.

She was a private girl, someone whose life didn’t involve daily scrutiny or public commentary. The paparazzi would catch him 70

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talking to her and they’d start speculating: Does Dayne Matthews have a new love interest? Who is she? What’s happening between the two of them? What does Kelly Parker think?

The stories would come in a barrage, several each week, splashed across every magazine in the genre. That kind of attention could ruin Katy’s place in the kids’ theater company. He reached the halfway mark, just before the pier, and slowed to a stop. The T-shirt was too hot for the run back, so he pulled it over his shoulders, careful not to knock off his baseball cap.

As he did, he heard a distant voice shout, “Dayne Matthews! That’s Dayne Matthews!”

He didn’t turn around, but he caught a glimpse. The voice came from a teenage girl standing between two adults near the Malibu Beach public parking lot.

Straggling tourists, no doubt. The girl wasn’t about to run after him, and the few fishermen making their way to and from the pier didn’t pay any mind to a screaming out-of-towner. Even if there was a movie star on the beach.

Dayne tucked the T-shirt partway into his shorts and began jogging in the opposite direction. After a few minutes he felt his shoulders relax. The girl hadn’t caused a chase to develop, and he’d been right. She wasn’t following him.

He gazed out at the crystal blue water as he ran.

The kindest thing he could do for Katy was to stay home next weekend and hit the Kabbalah service with Kelly. This was his life, here in Malibu. The life Katy lived in Bloomington was something he’d never know anything about. Looking her up now wouldn’t change that.

He had less energy today, less spring in his step. Maybe there was more to it than Katy Hart. Maybe she was only part of it. As he finished his run and trudged back up the sand to the steps of his beachfront deck, he remembered something. Mitch and Kelly didn’t know all the reasons he had for going to 71

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Bloomington. And he would go, no matter what. He would go on Thursday even if no one understood.

He would take Mitch’s advice and stay low, under the paparazzi radar, making sure he was smarter than last time. The photographers wouldn’t be expecting him there until Monday, the day the rest of the cast and crew flew in for the shoot.

Even then there wouldn’t be as many media hounds as there were in Hollywood. It was just a two-week location trip.

He would go because even if he didn’t see Katy again, he could be near the people who were never far from his thoughts. The people whom he’d seen that afternoon in the Bloomington hospital parking lot. Even if not one of them knew who he was. Those were the people Mitch and Kelly knew nothing about. His father and brother, his sisters and nieces and nephews. His family.

The Baxter family.

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ASHLEY BAXTER BLAKE FOUND OUT about the accident over the weekend when her father called and asked her to pray. All day Sunday she’d wanted to go and visit the two families, see what she could do to help. But she resisted. They would have other people there, people closer to them.

Now, though, it was early Monday afternoon, and she couldn’t paint or read or run errands without seeing for herself how the Strykers and Hanovers were doing.

She had worked with Mrs. Hanover on the sets committee for Tom Sawyer, and Sarah Jo Stryker had found a special place in her heart once dress rehearsals began the week before the play.

Cole was playing at a friend’s house and Landon was at work, so if she was going to make a visit to the hospital it had to be now. Without giving the idea much more thought, she grabbed her car keys and headed for the garage. She was backing out when she stopped and gazed into the gray sky. “God… use me.” It was a prayer she uttered often now that she understood life better. God had a purpose for everything, and on this day-74

as difficult as it would be—He would have a reason for her being there.

She pulled into the hospital parking lot, found a space to park, and walked into the lobby. They were in regular rooms now, and only Sarah Jo was still in intensive care, which meant limited visitors. Sometimes none. That part didn’t matter, because Ashley wasn’t planning to visit the injured. She wanted to see Katy Hart and the families, make sure everyone was okay and let them know she cared.

She made her way up in the elevator and past the desk. Her father had told her that while the others were improving, Sarah Jo’s condition remained extremely critical. Ashley moved quietly down the hall of the intensive care unit and into the waiting room. It was empty except for Katy.

“Ashley…” Katy stood and hugged her. There was a catch in her voice. “You missed the crowd.”

“Crowd?” Ashley sat down next to Katy and turned slightly so they were facing each other.

Katy’s eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. “A bunch of the teens from CKT came down for about an hour.” She shrugged and tried to smile. “Just praying, being together. Hoping they could make a difference somehow.”

“Who was here?” Ashley set her bag on the floor. She still wasn’t sure she should’ve come, but at least she was the only other one in the room. Maybe Katy needed someone to talk to.

“Tim Reed and Bailey and Connor Flanigan. Four of the Pick kids and the Shaffers.”

Ashley nodded, allowing silence for a moment. Then she looked back through the door toward the hallway. “What’s the latest?”

“Alice Stryker’s in and out of consciousness, but they’re seeing improvements.

Her husband’s in with her.” Katy folded her hands tightly. Her knuckles looked white against her jeans.

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“Actually he goes back and forth between Sarah Jo’s room and his wife’s.”

“What about her brother, Joey?”

Katy’s eyes lit up some. “He’s doing better. They’ll probably discharge him today.” A shadow fell over her expression. “He’ll stay with the Reed family so his dad can be with Alice and Sarah Jo. They don’t have any other family in the area.”

Ashley stared at her shoes. The poor boy. How would Cole handle that? Staying with people he didn’t know, being out of touch about what was happening at the hospital, not knowing when his family would be together again or if they ever would. She shuddered and lifted her eyes to Katy’s. “What about the Hanovers?”

“Brandy should be released today too. Her leg’s in a cast, and she has a wrap around her rib cage. They told her about Ben last night.” She shook her head. “I saw her this morning, and she was still crying. The two of them.., they were very close.”