THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER

by Ginna Gray

  Maggie noticed that she wasn't the only one surprised by Lily's uncharacteristic firmness.

  Martin was so taken aback he was speechless for a full five seconds. Then he clenched his jaw and stalked to the window, presenting his rigid back to the room as he stared out.

  Laurel's face turned even paler than before, something Maggie hadn't thought possible. Her sister darted a worried look at Martin, then she turned away and needlessly fiddled with the items on the nightstand beside Jacob's bed.

  To break the tension, Maggie turned to the teenager sprawled in the room's only chair with her legs draped over one of the arms. Small, dark-haired and pixie cute, in looks, her seventeen-year-old baby sister favored their father as much as Laurel favored Lily.

  "Don't tell me this is little Jo Beth? I can't believe it."

  The girl rolled her eyes and made a disgusted face.

  "For heaven sake's, child, stop that slouching and come here and say hello to your sister," Lily ordered.

  "I can do that from here. See." She barely spared Maggie a sidelong glance. "Hi."

  "Jo Beth." The warning in their mother's voice was unmistakable, and instantly the teenager's attitude turned from surly to belligerent.

  "What? You want me to turn cartwheels for her? Why should I? She hasn't bothered to visit us in seven years. Miss Big Shot Supermodel thinks she's too good for her family and Ruby Falls."

  Martin turned from the window with a smirk on his face.

  Laurel gasped. "That's a terrible thing to say!"

  "Jo Beth!" their mother snapped. "What? It's the truth!"

  "Really, child," Lily scolded, wringing her hands. "You should be ashamed of yourself, speaking to your sister that way. Now, be nice and apologize."

  "When pigs fly!" The girl shot out of the chair, glaring at Lily. She clenched her fists at her sides and her face screwed up in over-the-top teenage outrage.

  "Jo Beth! How dare—"

  Maggie touched Lily's arm. "No, Momma, please. It's all right. She's entitled to her opinion."

  "I don't need you to defend me," the girl snapped.

  "Good, because I'm not. Just your right to speak your mind. Look, if you want, we'll have this out later. You can take your best shot." Maggie glanced at their father and tipped her head in his direction. "But now isn't the time for this kind of discussion."

  The girl looked as though she was about to argue, but after a few seconds she flounced back to the chair, plopped herself down and sulked.

  Unable to avoid it any longer, Maggie looked directly at her brother-in-law for the first time. "Hello, Martin."

  His mouth tightened, but he gave a curt nod. "Maggie."

  The terse reply made no attempt at civility, and that suited Maggie just fine. The less he said to her the better. She'd be happy if he never spoke to her at all.

  "Has he wakened since I left?" Lily asked in a whisper, moving to stand beside her husband's bed.

  Laurel shook her head. "No. He's really sleeping soundly. He hasn't even stirred."

  Maggie joined her sister on the opposite side of the bed from Lily. Laying one forearm along the side rail, she reached out and smoothed her father's hair away from his forehead.

  He, too, was thinner. And older, she thought with a pang.

  Deep lines scored his forehead and bracketed his mouth, and his once-dark hair was now salt-and-pepper. Maggie had always thought of her father as strong and invincible, and it came as a shock to realize that he wasn't.

  In the faded blue-and-white-striped hospital gown he looked old and sick and vulnerable. His eyes seemed to have sunk into his head and the exposed skin on his neck and arms appeared soft and crepey. Even the hair on his chest, visible through the V-neck gown, had turned white.

  Tears threatened, but Maggie blinked them back. Time and illness had taken their toll, certainly, but Jacob Malone was still a big man. So what if his shoulders were a bit bony and his chest not quite as broad or as firm as it had once been? Both were still wide enough to nearly span the narrow bed, weren't they?

  A terrible longing twisted inside her as she gazed at those shoulders, and a sad smile quivered around her mouth. How many times had she longed to be held in her father's strong arms? To put her head down on those broad shoulders and be cuddled? To hear him say "I love you, Maggie girl"?

  She battled back the wave of grief and pain and clenched her jaw.

  He couldn't die, dammit. The doctors had to be wrong. Fifty-eight wasn't old. He could still fight this.

  Oh, God, Daddy, please don't die.

  "Laurel, it's time to go," Martin announced. "I have to get back to the cannery. Jacob is depending on me to look after the business now. I can be more help to him there than standing around here."

  "You go on, Martin. I can take Laurel home when visiting hours are over."

  "No, thanks, Lily. She has things to do, as well. C'mon, Laurel, let's go."

  "I'll go with you, too," Jo Beth announced, bounding up out of the chair. "You can drop me off on your way."

  "Call me tonight when you get home, will you, Momma, and let me know how Daddy's doing?" Laurel asked, casting one last worried glance at their father.

  "Of course I will, honey."

  "Laurel, I haven't got all day."

  "Coming." Snatching up her purse, she kissed Lily's cheek and scurried out the door her husband held open without so much as a "goodbye" for Maggie.

  "Does he always treat her like that?" Maggie asked when the door swung shut behind them.

  "Hmm. Most of the time he's a bit more subtle about it, but, yes, Martin tends to be bossy. I'm afraid I haven't set a very good example, always deferring to your father, but I do so because I love and respect your father. Jacob has never demanded blind obedience the way Martin does."

  Lily shook her head. "I've tried to talk to her. I've told her she shouldn't let him dominate her the way he does, but she just laughs and brushes my concerns aside. She claims she's perfectly happy and says I'm worrying over nothing. Jacob's no better. He says that Martin simply believes that a man should wear the pants in a family."

  "Huh. If it were me I'd strangle him with them. How does she stand it?"

  "She loves him, I suppose."

  "Daddy loves you but he's never treated you that way."

  On the contrary, Jacob adored her mother, and even after almost twenty-nine years of marriage he still treated her as though she was the most precious thing on earth. Maggie was quite certain her parents could count the few serious arguments they'd had on the fingers of one hand. Neither she nor her sisters had ever heard a cross word pass between them.

  Lily sighed. "I know. But everyone is different, Maggie. And as much as Martin's attitude concerns me, a marriage is between the two people involved. It's not our place to interfere."

  "I'll never understand what she sees in him," Maggie said, giving a little shudder of distaste.

  "Now, Maggie—"

  Jacob made a small sound and shifted, and both women forgot all about Martin Howe as they leaned anxiously over the railings on either side of the bed.

  "Well, now, did you finally decide to wake up?" Lily teased, and slipped her hand into her husband's.

  Jacob blinked twice, then focused on his wife's face. His eyes warmed with so much love that Maggie felt her throat close up. His mouth twitched in an attempt at a smile. "Hi, love."

  "Hi, yourself." Lily squeezed his hand. "Look who's come to see you, dearest." She glanced across the bed at Maggie, and he slowly turned his head.

  Shock raced across Jacob's face.

  Maggie's stomach took a fluttery jump, but she managed a smile. "Hello, Daddy."

  "You." His face hardened and his eyes turned to ice. "What the hell are you doing here?"

  * * *

  Three

  « ^ »

  Maggie's gaze flashed to her mother.

  It was all a lie, her eyes silently accused. He didn't want to see me. He doesn't want me here at all. You lied to me!
>
  Lily at least had the grace to look guilty, but that was small consolation to Maggie.

  Hurt and disillusion sat on her heart like wet cement. There were only two people in the world whom she felt she could trust without question—her mother and Aunt Nan. Now her mother had lied to her. Tricked her.

  Oh, God. What a fool she'd been. She should never have come. And to think, she'd been so elated that her father had finally wanted to see her. Fool! Fool! Fool! When will you ever learn?

  "I asked you a question. What are you doing here?"

  Ruthlessly tamping down her hurt and disappointment, Maggie flashed her father a cheeky smile and drawled, "Well now, Daddy, you know what they say about a bad penny. It just keeps turning up."

  Jacob's mouth tightened. "I might have expected a flippant remark from you. You haven't changed a bit, have you. You're still the same disrespectful smart mouth you always were."

  She shrugged and flashed another smile. "Works for me."

  Inside, she was shattered and fighting to hold herself together. The only way she could do that was to act blasé.

  The instinctive response bothered her, though not for the same reason it annoyed her father.

  Why did it matter so? Why did she let it matter?

  Dammit! She was a grown woman. A competent, intelligent, successful woman, a woman with the poise and confidence to hold her own in any society. She had rubbed elbows with all manner of celebrities, from movie stars to politicians to the power brokers of the world. She was a celebrity in her own right, for Christ's sake!

  Yet, one harsh word from her father and she reverted to the hurt child she had once been.

  And like that hurt child, her instinctive defense against his dislike and the pain it brought was the same one she had employed as a teenager—irreverent humor and in-your-face provocation.

  It was childish and nonconstructive, but it was either that or cry. Damned if she would let him see how much she longed for his approval.

  Jacob's mouth tightened. Even as weak and sick as he was, his animosity was so strong it was palpable. It radiated from him like hundreds of tiny poison darts stinging her skin, making her stomach cramp. Shredding her heart.

  "I made it clear when you left that you were no longer welcome here, Katherine."

  "Jacob!"

  He ignored his wife's shocked exclamation. Maggie barely heard it herself. Her focus was centered on her father. "Oh, yes. You certainly did that."

  Trust him to call her Katherine, she thought. At her mother's insistence, as firstborn, she had been named after the family matriarch, his grandmother, Katherine Margaret Malone, who had also gone by the name Maggie, but from the time she was born Jacob had stubbornly insisted on calling her Katherine. He had never actually said so, but Maggie suspected that Jacob hated the idea of her carrying his beloved grandmother's name.

  Catching her lower lip between her teeth, Lily wrung her hands and shifted from one foot to the other. Her worried gaze darted back and forth between Jacob and Maggie.

  "Knowing that, you have a lot of gall showing up here. Did you think I'd be too sick to toss you out again?"

  "Jacob, please." Lily's face was white with distress. "If you're going to be angry with anyone it should be me. I asked Maggie to come. I told her you wanted to see her."

  "What! Dammit, Lily, you shouldn't have done that! You know—"

  The door swung open, and a young man in his mid-thirties strode into the room. "Afternoon, Mr. Malone. How're you feeling today? Better, I hope."

  Even had he not been wearing a long white medical coat with a stethoscope stuffed into one pocket, Maggie would have known he was a doctor. He had that scrubbed, antiseptic look.

  He stopped in his tracks and gaped when he spotted Maggie. Accustomed to the poleaxed reaction, especially from men, she pretended not to notice and even managed to force a smile.

  To his credit, he recovered his composure quickly and stepped forward, extending his hand. "Hello, there. I'm Dr. Neil Sanderson. Dr. Lockhart's new partner. Say, aren't you…?"

  "This is our daughter Maggie," Lily supplied in a quick, nervous voice, anxious to dispel the angry tension in the room. "Maggie is a model, Neil. You've probably seen her picture somewhere."

  "Yes. Of course. I should have realized. Your face is on the cover of over half the magazines in the waiting rooms." Dr. Sanderson's blue eyes glowed as he flashed her an eager smile. "It's a pleasure, Miss Malone."

  Maggie shook his hand and murmured something in return. What, she couldn't have said. It took all her concentration to maintain her nonchalant expression.

  "Maggie has just arrived. She flew in all the way from Greece."

  "I see. Well, I wouldn't want to interrupt your visit. Why don't I come back later?"

  "You're not interrupting." Jacob's gaze pinned Maggie. "She was just leaving."

  Maggie forced a chuckle and sent the young doctor a twinkling look. "Not very subtle, is he? That's Daddy's way of telling me to get out while you examine him." She winked and whispered behind her hand, loud enough for everyone to hear, "I think he's afraid your delightful hospital gown might be too revealing for my delicate sensibilities."

  Dr. Sanderson looked appalled. "Oh, no, please. Don't go on my account. I can just as easily stop by at the end of my rounds."

  Maggie laughed again and gave his arm a pat. "I'm kidding, Doc. Daddy's just being thoughtful. The only sleep I've had in four days has been catnaps on airplanes. Jet lag is catching up with me. If I don't find a bed soon I'm going to drop in my tracks. I just stopped by on my way home to let my folks know I had arrived."

  "Oh. I see. Well, in that case, it was a pleasure meeting you. Perhaps I'll see you again before you leave."

  "Perhaps," she replied with a flirtatious smile, and had the pleasure of seeing color rise in his neck.

  For the first time in her life, Maggie was furious with her mother, but for Dr. Sanderson's benefit she gave her a quick hug. "I'll see you at home later."

  Leaning down, she kissed her father's forehead, ignoring the way he stiffened at her touch. She winked at him and drawled, "Now, Daddy, don't you go chasing any pretty nurses, you hear?"

  Pretending she didn't see Jacob's mouth tighten, Maggie sauntered out the door with her head high, as though she hadn't a care in the world.

  The nonchalant pose vanished the instant the door swung shut behind her. She slumped against the wall next to her father's room and clamped her hand over her mouth. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

  The pressure in her chest was unbearable. A sob forced its way up past the knot in her throat, and though she struggled to hold them back, tears filled her eyes, blurring the long hallway.

  Maggie's face contorted. Her shoulders hunched forward and began to shake. She fought for control, but she was no match for the unspeakable sorrow. With a great, gasping sob the last of her composure crumbled, and she turned her face to the vinyl-covered wall and gave in to the flood of tears.

  That was how Dan Garrett found her when he arrived a few minutes later.

  He spotted her the instant he stepped off the elevator and came to an abrupt halt, stunned. The last thing he expected was to find Jacob's audacious, self-assured daughter huddled in a ball of misery.

  Dan darted a quick look around. The three nurses behind the station were busy and hadn't yet noticed her. The youngest one looked up and smiled as he strode past, but he merely nodded and kept going.

  As Dan walked he positioned himself to shield Maggie from the nurses' view. Not for her sake. He didn't particularly like the woman. But she was Jacob's daughter, and any gossip about her would probably upset him.

  There was no one in the world Dan respected or admired as much as Jacob Malone. He owed the older man a lot. Others had dismissed him as no-account trash from the wrong side of town, but not Jacob. He had given him a chance when no one else would. Dan would do whatever it took to protect him.

  Maggie was so distraught she didn't hear him approach. Her s
obs were barely audible, but the effort at silence was costing her. The awful, muffled sounds threatened to choke her, and the force of them shook her whole body. They sent a chill down Dan's spine. What the hell had happened?

  He hesitated, then touched her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

  Maggie jumped like a scalded cat. She bolted away from the wall, straightened her spine and stood tall. Lifting her chin, she squared her shoulders and busied herself with fluffing her hair and brushing imaginary lint off her knit top. "Of course I'm all right."

  "Then why are you crying?"

  "I'm not crying," she denied vehemently, even as she swiped at her wet cheeks with her fingers.

  "Yeah, right." He had a sister. He'd seen the signs enough to know a weepy female when he saw one.

  Maggie sniffed and shot him a killer look out of the corner of her eye, but before she could voice a comeback he stared at the door to her father's room and frowned. "Ah, hell, is it Jacob? Is he worse?"

  "Oh, my father is in fine form, I assure you."

  "Then why are you upset?"

  "I am not upset. I told you I wasn't crying. Not that it's any of your business."

  "Then why're your eyes red and your eyelashes spiked with tears?"

  "If you must know, I had something in my eye. I was trying to get it out."

  "Uh-huh." He stared at her, making no attempt to hide his skepticism. Something in her eye, be damned. He'd seen plenty of tears, some out of anger, some out of frustration or hurt feelings or deep sorrow, but in his experience, women didn't cry like that over something trivial. Or over a cinder in the eye.

  Maggie bore his scrutiny in silence for as long as she could. Then she lifted her chin at a haughty angle. "If you'll excuse me, I was just leaving."

  He had her hemmed in, but she shoved him aside with surprising strength, brushed past and headed toward the elevator with that leggy model stride, her hips swaying enticingly.