THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER

by Ginna Gray

  Oh, God. A lifetime. A lifetime of yearning and hurting and hopeless striving and always being denied her father's love. When it should have been hers all along. It wasn't fair!

  She looked at her father, felt his frail hand clinging to hers, and so many conflicting emotions swirled in her chest she could barely breathe—anger and acceptance, resentment and relief, unbearable sadness and the sweetest joy imaginable, all tangled together.

  A part of her wanted to shriek and rage at the injustice of it all, the cruelty. But this was her father, the man she had adored from a distance all of her life, and no matter what he'd done or why, she loved him still.

  And he was dying. How could she not forgive him?

  Maggie's tears overflowed and splashed like warm rain onto their clasped hands. Her lips wobbled uncontrollably and her voice quavered, but she forced out the words he needed to hear. "I forgive you, Daddy. It doesn't matter now."

  Jacob opened his eyes and looked at her. Tears streamed from their outer corners and streaked downward, soaking the silver hair at his temples, shocking Maggie to her core. Releasing the envelope, he raised his other hand and stroked her cheek, and the feeble gesture nearly cleaved her heart in two.

  "You're a … good … girl, Maggie. A good daughter."

  "Oh, Daddy…"

  "Come here, child."

  A weak tug on her neck was all it took. Maggie collapsed against his chest, and when his arms enfolded her the sobs she'd been holding in check poured out like water through a bursting dam.

  "My daughter. My own … precious daughter," Jacob murmured, weakly stroking her hair. "I love you, Maggie. I … love you."

  "Da-Daddy. Daddy," she sobbed, clutching him. "I love you, too. Pl-please don't leave us! Oh, please! Not now."

  "Love … you. Love…"

  His hand stilled and slid off her head. Beneath her ear, his heartbeat slowed, then stopped.

  Maggie rose up and looked at her father's still face. "No! No! Oh, please, no … no … no…"

  "Come here, sweetheart."

  Dan pulled her into his arms and Maggie collapsed against his broad chest and wailed out the unspeakable grief that threatened to strangle her. All around her the other women were weeping, too, but Maggie was lost to all but her own staggering pain.

  The wrenching sobs tore from some place deep in her soul. They were harsh and painful to hear and they hurt her throat, but she couldn't stop them. She didn't even try.

  She cried bitterly for the loveless child she had been, for the lost teenager, for the woman who had at last won her father's love, only to lose him. She cried for what could have been, what should have been, for what never would be.

  Finally the first shocking wave of grief spent itself and she gradually calmed. Standing within Dan's strong arms, her cheek resting against his chest, she became aware that they were alone, and no longer in her parents' bedroom. At some point Dan had maneuvered her into the small adjacent sitting room, and she hadn't even known.

  She also realized that she was clutching the envelope from the medical lab.

  A cheery fire crackled in the fireplace, and the room smelled of her mother's favorite potpourri. On the mantel her great-grandmother's clocked ticked softly.

  "You okay now?" Dan asked, nuzzling the top of her head.

  Maggie released a shuddering sigh, but she was too exhausted to move. "No, but I will be. Oh, Dan, it hurts so much," she whispered, blinking back a freshet of tears. Beneath her cheek, his shirt was already soaked and plastered to his chest.

  "I know, sweetheart. But at least now you know that he was your father. And you got to hear him say he loved you."

  "Yes, there is that," she said in the same listless voice. She had finally gotten her heart's desire, but oh, how bittersweet it was.

  She sighed again. "I just wish it hadn't taken indisputable proof that I was his flesh and blood for him to love me. Why couldn't just being me be enough?"

  Grasping her shoulders, Dan eased her back a bit and looked into her eyes. "I don't know, sweetheart. I'd never understa—" He stared at the envelope clutched in her hand. "Wait a minute. Look at that."

  Following the direction of his gaze, she looked down at the crumpled envelope. A prickly sensation crawled over her skin, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. "It's still sealed." She looked up at Dan, her eyes wide with disbelief. "He never looked at the results."

  He smiled at the joy dawning in her eyes. "Looks like just being you was enough for him, after all."

  "I can't believe it. This was the proof he wanted."

  A quick frown replaced her smile. "What if … what if I'm not his daughter? What if I don't have a right to the name Malone? Or to ran the company?" She stared at the envelope. "I really should look."

  She slipped her thumbnail under the flap, but before she could tear it open Dan put his hand over hers.

  "Maggie, does it really matter? You needed him to accept you for you. Maybe he needed you to accept him the same way. It's true that he wasn't the father he should have been to you, but like I always told you, Jacob was a good man. In the end he didn't need proof because he'd come to value you, and love you, for the woman you are. Isn't that all that really matters?"

  The question hung between them, and as Maggie met Dan's steady gaze she felt all the tension drain out of her. She looked down at the envelope in her hand. After a moment, she smiled. "You're right."

  She walked over to the fireplace and tossed the envelope into the flames. She watched it wither into a charred curl of ash and felt immense relief.

  Dan pulled her back into his arms. "That's my Maggie."

  For an interminable time they held each other close and let the profound silence envelop them. "I've got a suggestion," Dan said finally.

  "Oh? What's that?"

  "If it's okay with you, I'd like to name our first-born son Jacob?"

  Maggie leaned back in his arms, and despite her red-rimmed eyes, she managed a weak attempt at a saucy look. "Why, sugar. Is that a proposal?"

  "Yeah, it is. So what's your answer, Red?"

  "Well, I don't know," she drawled, and pretended to think it over.

  "Maggie," Dan said in a warning voice.

  "Although … I do like the name Jacob."

  "Dammit, woman—"

  Grinning, she flung her arms around his neck. "Yes. Yes. Yes!"

  "Don't worry. It will go fine."

  "Easy for you to say. They could vote against me. They could vote to hire an outsider to run the company. They could even vote to sell. Remember, between them they have more shares than I do."

  "For Pete's sake, Red, they're your sisters."

  "Dan's right," Anna said.

  "Yeah, well, in this case, I'm not sure how much that means." Maggie paced to the end of the long conference room and back. "Laurel still acts standoffish around me, and with Jo Beth … well, you never know how she's going to react."

  It had been ten days since Jacob's funeral. Maggie had delayed this meeting as long as she could, partly to give them all time to grieve, and partly because she was apprehensive of the outcome. Today marked the first convening of the new owners in a shareholders' meeting.

  The faint smell of charred wood still lingered in the air, and the sound of power saws and hammering could be heard through the closed door. Down the hall the construction crew was busy rebuilding the burned offices. Most of the smoke had been sucked out of the broken glass wall in Maggie's office, and for the past two weeks a crew had been cleaning up the smoke damage in the cannery itself. If all went right today, Maggie hoped that within a week or so, the refitting would begin.

  Maggie twisted her hands together and paced the room again.

  "Sweetheart, will you quit worrying. Remember what they say. 'Never let 'em see you sweat.' Just sit down and relax. They'll be along in a minute."

  Giving Dan and her secretary a wan smile, Maggie went to the head of the conference table. She had just taken her seat when the door opened and her sisters,
followed by Art Buchanan, the company attorney, walked in.

  When they were seated, Maggie cleared her throat. "Well, now that we're all here—"

  The door opened again, and Laurel made a distressed sound. Dan shot to his feet.

  "Martin! What are you doing here?" Maggie demanded. "Your employment with this company has been terminated, as you well know. I must ask you to leave at once." She had known he was out on bail, pending trial, but it had not occurred to her that he would dare to would show up at the cannery.

  "You heard her," Dan growled. "Get out."

  "I have every right to be here. When I married Laurel she signed her shareholder voting rights over to me. I've had a seat on this board ever since."

  "That can be remedied." Maggie turned to the attorney. "Mr. Buchanan, please do whatever is necessary to rescind Mr. Howe's voting rights and return them to Laurel."

  "I have the form with me." He snapped open his briefcase, removed a sheet of paper and a pen, marked the signature line with an X and slid both down the table to Laurel.

  An angry flush reddened Martin's face. "Laurel, don't you dare sign that."

  "Jesus, Martin. You have the hide of a rhinoceros." Dan shook his head. "Hell, man, you were served with divorce papers a week ago. You can't come in here ordering her around."

  "We're not divorced yet, and if Laurel will listen to reason, we never will be." He focused on his wife, and Maggie grimaced as she watched him turn on the phony charm. "Laurel, sweetheart, you know I love you. You can't just walk out on me like this."

  "I didn't 'just walk out,' Martin. You cheated on me, remember? And when I found out, you beat me."

  "All right, maybe I got a little rough—"

  "A little rough? My nose is broken and I have three cracked ribs and a bruised kidney. Not to mention the other cuts and bruises."

  Martin's mouth flattened, and for an instant fury flared in his eyes. Maggie knew that if he and Laurel had been alone he would have struck her again.

  With an effort, he managed to conceal his anger and force a placating tone. "Sweetheart, the affair with Elaine meant nothing. I had to string her along. I needed her to doctor the books."

  Art Buchanan cleared his throat. "Mr. Howe, you really shouldn't be making such statements in front of an attorney. As an officer of the court, I must warn you, doctoring company books is a crime."

  "Only if you use them to steal. The records I gave the Bountiful people were legit. The doctored ones were just to convince Jacob to sell out."

  "Even so, if the Malone family wants to pursue the matter, I'm sure a case can be made against you."

  Maggie looked at her sister. "Laurel, it's your call. What do you want to do?"

  "I just want him out of my life."

  "You heard her. Personally, I don't know how you have the gall to even show your face around here, after what you did to her," Maggie said. "Not to mention everything else you and your father tried to do."

  "I'm not responsible for my father's actions. The crazy old fool took it on himself to get rid of you. I had nothing to do with starting that fire."

  Martin's callous dismissal of his father so stunned Maggie and the others they could only stare at him, speechless.

  No matter how wrong and misguided, Rupert had always been fanatically devoted to his son. All of Martin's life, his father had ran interference for him. Whenever he'd landed in trouble Rupert had used his influence to smooth things over. If Martin wanted something, his father employed whatever means were necessary, whether it was a little arm-twisting or coercion or subtle threats, to see that he got it. Some even claimed that Rupert wasn't above paying bribes.

  That he could so coldly turn his back on his father now was a shocking betrayal, even for Martin.

  "Laurel, don't be a fool. Before you make a hasty decision, hear me out. I can make you all filthy rich. We change the company charter and sell the cannery to Bountiful Foods. They don't grow their own produce, so they're not interested in the orchards, just the cannery complex, which means we keep the land.

  "Now, here's where the good part comes in. My dad has inside information that a major software company is moving into the area. They're going to build a huge complex and move in a whole army of high-salaried employees who are going to want upscale homes. We can subdivide the orchards into one-acre residential lots and sell them for eighty or ninety thousand apiece. Malone Enterprises has over fifteen hundred acres under cultivation. We'll all be filthy rich in no time."

  "So it was the land you wanted all along," Maggie said. "The sabotage, the altered books, the scare tactics—that was all just to panic us into changing the charter."

  "Yeah. The profit from the cannery sale will be peanuts in comparison. And since Jacob wouldn't listen to reason, I had to do something."

  "It was a wasted effort, Martin. Malone Enterprises was started by our great-grandmother. Four generations of Malones have poured their hearts and souls into the business and it supports a good portion of the people in this area. It is not now, nor will it ever be, for sale."

  If looks could kill, the one Martin gave Maggie would have annihilated her on the spot.

  "Don't pay any attention to her," he urged, turning to her sisters. "You don't have to let her ran the show. Between the two of you, you have the controlling shares. You can do whatever you want."

  He turned a coaxing smile on his wife. "Laurel, honey, you can't be serious about leaving me. Not after all we've meant to each other. I love you, baby. We've got problems, sure, but we can work them out. I promise.

  "And Jo Beth, with your share of the money you can forget about college. You can go anywhere you want, do anything you want. You don't owe Maggie anything. Hell, you don't even like her."

  Maggie held her breath and watched her sisters. She had no idea if family loyalty and tradition would be enough for them to say no to a fortune.

  In the past the cajoling tactic had always worked for Martin when dealing with Laurel. She was silent so long, Maggie began to fear it would again.

  Finally, without a word, Laurel rose and walked around the table. Standing behind Maggie's chair, she looked straight at her husband and put her hand on her sister's shoulder.

  A moment later, Jo Beth did the same.

  Martin looked ready to explode. "You're idiots!" he shouted. "All of you. You're sitting on a gold mine and you're letting stupid family tradition keep you from cashing in on it!"

  He stormed out, and the instant the door slammed behind him Maggie shot out of her chair and embraced her sisters. "Thank you! Oh, thank you so much."

  "Maggie, surely you didn't think we'd side with Martin against you?"

  "Yeah, especially after what he did to Laurel."

  "Well … he was talking about a lot of money."

  "We're not exactly poor as it is. And Jo Beth and I are Malones, too, you know."

  "Yeah. Besides, sisters stick together," Jo Beth said. "And I say good riddance. Martin's an asshole."

  Maggie laughed. "I have to agree, but I wouldn't let Momma hear you use that expression if I were you."

  Jo Beth rolled her eyes. "She'd have a hissy fit."

  Laurel squeezed Maggie's hand. "Sis, I never have thanked you for helping me—"

  "Shh. You don't have to thank me. As Jo Beth said, sisters stick together."

  They hugged again, but when tears threatened Anna stepped in. "Now, now, none of that. We've still got business to attend to. Mr. Buchanan is a busy man. I'm sure he doesn't have time to sit around and watch the three of you get sloppy."

  Their equilibrium restored, Maggie and her sisters grinned at one another and took their seats.

  The meeting went smoothly. Unanimously, they decided to refit the cannery with modern equipment and make Maggie president and CEO, although her sisters did voice some concern about the last.

  "Are you sure this is what you want to do, Maggie? What about your modeling career?"

  Maggie laughed. "Trust me, running Malone's is what I'
ve always dreamed of doing. As for the modeling, if I scale back a bit I can handle both. I've already been doing that for the past four months and I can continue for as long as it lasts. Believe it or not, at the ripe old age of twenty-seven, my modeling days are numbered."

  "Why, that's terrible!" Laurel protested.

  "It's plain stupid, if you ask me," their younger sister declared.

  "True, but that's the reality of the fashion world. Anyway, it's not important. Everything that really matters to me is here. My family. This business." Her eyes sought Dan's across the table, and she smiled. "And the man I love. What more could I ask for?"

  Once again, Anna took charge and defused the emotional moment.

  "Well, then, it's all settled," she announced, snapping her steno pad shut. "Why don't you bang that gavel so we can all get out of here."

  Maggie laughed and gave the table a rap. "Meeting adjourned."

  When the others had left, Dan came around the table and pulled Maggie into his embrace. With his arms looped loosely around her waist, he looked deep into her eyes. "It's taken a long time, but you've finally made it. Welcome home, my love."

  * * * * *