Lacey had felt awful, knowing that he’d been embarrassed in front of his friends just for coming to her rescue. She had given him a hesitant smile and felt her eleven-year-old heart tumble at the impish, unworried grin he shot her in return.
From that moment on Kevin Halloran had been her protector, her knight in shining armor. He’d withstood a lot of teasing for befriending her. He’d fought a lot of playground battles on her behalf, had chosen her for teams when others wouldn’t, had badgered her to try out for cheerleading when she’d known she wasn’t pretty enough or popular enough to make it. To her amazement, he’d been right. She had cheered loudest and longest when he’d raced for the goal line.
Later, he’d ignored a lot of wealthy, admiring teenaged girls to date her, apparently preferring their quiet, serious talks to the adolescent wiles of her peers.
Then he’d dared to fall in love with her.
Brandon Halloran had thrown one of his inimitable fits about the engagement. He’d declared that no son of his was going to marry some little nobody who was only after his money. He’d vowed to do everything in his power to see that they split up. In the lowest moment of her life, he had offered her a bribe. When that hadn’t worked, he’d sent Kevin off to college at Stanford, hoping that distance would accomplish what his ranting and threats had not.
None of it had dimmed Kevin and Lacey’s determination or their love. Sometimes it astonished Lacey that at that age they had stood firm against the power of Brandon’s opposition. In anyone else it might have been sheer stubbornness, but with Kevin it had been a deeply ingrained conviction that Lacey brought something into his life that he could never hope to find with another woman. At least that’s what he’d told her when he’d insisted that they would get married with or without his parents’ approval. He’d defiantly exchanged his class ring for a tiny chip of a diamond, rather than use parental funds for something splashier.
Where had that steadfast sense of commitment gone? The love hadn’t died. As she sat in a corner of the cold, dimly lit hospital waiting room, terrified of losing him forever this time, Lacey could admit that much. She also knew that they couldn’t go on as they had been, drifting farther and farther apart with each day that passed, fighting bitterly at every turn.
Jason returned just as Dr. Lincoln Westlake came out of the cardiac unit. Lacey froze at the sight of his grim expression. Even Brandon looked uncertain. It was Jason who finally dared to ask how Kevin was doing.
“I won’t lie to you. He’s in pretty bad shape. If I had to guess, I’d say he didn’t take that last attack seriously and did everything in his power to ensure he’d have another one.”
Brandon gazed at him in astonishment. “Are you saying he tried to bring this on?”
“In a way.”
“That’s absurd. Why that would be the next best thing to suicide.”
“Mr. Halloran, your son is a bright man. He knew the risks and he did nothing to minimize them.” He glanced at Lacey, and his tone gentled. “Did he?”
She sighed. The truth was that he’d even canceled half a dozen follow-up appointments with the doctor. She’d finally given up trying to make them.
“No. Nothing,” she admitted. Damn him, she said to herself. Damn Kevin Halloran for trying to play God with his own life!
“Can I see him?” she asked, when she could keep her voice steady.
“For five minutes. He’s resting now and I don’t want you to wake him. If he’s to have any chance at all, he needs to stay as quiet as possible.”
Lacey nodded. “Thanks, Linc. If anyone can pull him through this, I know you can.”
“I’m going to do my damnedest. If he’ll give me a little help, we might have a chance. You come on in, when you’re ready.”
As he walked away, Lacey started toward the cardiac unit after him. Brandon stepped into her path. “Remember what the doctor said, girl. Don’t you go upsetting him!”
“Granddad!” Jason warned.
Lacey put her hand on her son’s arm. “It’s okay.” She met Brandon’s gaze evenly and saw the worry and exhaustion in his eyes. “I’ll tell him that you’re here and that you’re praying for him.”
Brandon nodded, then sighed heavily and sank into one of the cushioned chairs. He motioned for Jason to sit next to him, then looked up at her. “You tell him we’re all praying for him,” he said.
Lacey nodded. She pressed the button that allowed the automatic doors to the unit to swish silently open, then stepped into a high-tech wonderland that was both magnificent and frightening.
Like the spokes of a wheel, small, softly lit rooms surrounded a central desk banked with monitors. Hushed voices competed with beeping equipment and the steady gurgle of oxygen.
She spotted Linc through one of the doorways, a chart in his hand, his troubled gaze riveted on the bed. Drawing in a deep breath, she walked to the doorway. Linc gave her a reassuring smile and motioned her in. Her steps were halting, but she finally approached the bed.
It took every last ounce of her courage to glance past the tangle of wires, IV tubes and oxygen to her husband.
Against the startling white of the pillow, Kevin’s handsome, angular face had a grayish cast. His golden hair, shot now with silver, was mussed, its impeccable cut wasted. Without the armor of his custom-tailored suit, his designer shirt and silk tie, he looked vulnerable, every inch a mortal, rather than the invincible hero she’d always thought him to be.
He was so terribly still, she thought, fighting panic. The man who had always seemed so alive, so filled with energy looked like a shadow, quiet and lifeless. Her gaze shifted desperately to a monitor and fixed on the steady rhythm. She had no idea what the up-and-down movement of the lines meant except that they were proof her husband was still clinging to life.
Lacey stepped closer and took Kevin’s one free hand, curving her fingers around his, trying to share her warmth with him. Her own heart lurched anew at his vulnerability, then filled to overflowing, first with love, then with rage—at him and at her own impotence.
Damn you, Kevin, she thought. You were always my strength. I’m not sure I know how to be yours.
She whispered, “Fight, Kevin. Dammit, you have to live. You have a grandchild on the way. You have to be here to teach him how to ride a bicycle, how to throw a ball. You know I’m not good at things like that.”
She closed her eyes and thought of all the plans they’d made. She kept her voice low as she reminded him, willed him to live to see them come true.
“Don’t you remember how we always looked forward to spoiling our grandchildren? There were so many things we were going to do. We were going to spend long, lazy days walking on the beach. We were going to read Shakespeare’s sonnets and visit Walden Pond. Don’t you dare make me do those things alone.”
She felt Linc’s hand on her shoulder. “That’s enough for now,” he said gently. “Let him rest.”
“Not yet,” she pleaded, terrified Kevin would slip away if she weren’t there to hold on to him. “Another minute, please. I won’t say another word. Just let me stay.”
Linc studied her silently, then nodded. He reached for a tissue and handed it to her. “Another minute,” he agreed. “No more.”
Lacey brushed away the tears she hadn’t even realized were there until she had the tissue in her hand. Very much aware of her vow to remain silent, she tried bargaining in her mind with Kevin and then with God.
With her gaze riveted on her husband’s face, she was aware of the first subtle blink of his lashes. Hope burst inside her. That’s it, she cried in her heart. You can do it, Kevin. I know you can.
She knew her minute’s reprieve was long over, but she didn’t budge, waiting. It was a minute more and then another before Kevin’s eyes finally blinked open and his gaze searched the room before finally focusing on her.
He managed a feeble smile that was only a faint shadow of the smile that had captivated her heart all those years ago. Even so, Lacey’s heart fil
led to bursting and she felt tears of relief spill down her cheeks. In that instant she knew beyond a doubt that whatever it took, her husband was going to make it. He would fight to live.
But the struggle to save their marriage was yet to come.
Chapter Three
Lacey spent a long, uneasy night in the hospital waiting room, refusing to go home, desperately needing the few precious minutes every couple of hours that Linc allowed her to visit Kevin. She couldn’t rid herself of that first sense of shock at his pallor, that initial horror that he might give up and slip away. Fear welled up inside her and abated only when she was by his side, willing her strength into him.
It had been nearly midnight when she had insisted that Jason take Dana home. She tried futilely to get Brandon to go with them. She was worried about the exhaustion that had shadowed his eyes. It reminded her all too vividly of those first grief-stricken weeks after he had lost his wife. For all that Brandon thought otherwise, he was not invincible.
Now, even though he was resting, he looked miserably uncomfortable on the waiting room’s too-short sofa. Lacey couldn’t help thinking he would have been far better off in his own bed, in his own home with Mrs. Farnsworth, his housekeeper of thirty years, fussing over him. Still, she could understand his need to stay close to Kevin. Despite all she and Kevin had been through lately—all the bitterness and recriminations—she’d felt the same way.
Though Kevin hadn’t awakened again through the long night, Lacey had been comforted simply by seeing him, by listening to the steady sound of the monitor tracking his heartbeat. Now, her throat dry, her stomach growling, she went off in search of tea and toast for herself and her father-in-law. If Brandon was going to insist on staying until the crisis passed, he would need all his strength.
Brandon was awake when Lacey returned, his cheek bearing the pattern of the sofa’s piping, his clothes rumpled to a state that would have given his personal tailor palpitations. His eyes were brighter, though.
“Wondered where you’d gone,” he said, accepting the cup of tea and ignoring the toast.
Even in this crisis he obviously had no intention of veering from his Spartan routine, Lacey thought with a mix of admiration and frustration. No wonder Kevin found his father such a tough act to follow.
“The doctor was by a minute ago,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “Can’t believe that boy who used to climb trees in my backyard is a cardiologist these days. You suppose we ought to call in someone else?”
“Linc is one of the best and you know it.”
“I suppose.” He still looked doubtful.
“What did he say?”
“He thinks the worst is past. If Kevin stays stable another forty-eight hours, he’ll consider moving him to a private room.”
“And then what?” she asked, more to herself than Brandon.
His sharp gaze pinned her, the blue eyes glinting with a challenge. “Then we’ll all do whatever it takes to help Kevin get his health back. All of us, you hear me?”
Lacey shook her head ruefully. An order like that was all too typical of her father-in-law. “Brandon, you can’t bully us into a happy marriage.”
He scowled and waved a finger under her nose. “Maybe not, but I can damn well see that you stick it out until this crisis is past.”
Determined not to let him see how his threat disturbed her, Lacey returned his fierce expression.
“I will not argue with you about this,” she said, carefully setting her tea on the table, then turning and walking away. Maybe it was the cowardly thing to do, but she couldn’t see any other choice. The stress of the present on both of them was bad enough without battling over the future.
Outside the hospital, where winter hadn’t quite given way to spring, a bed of purple crocuses were forcing their way through the still-icy earth. Lacey circled the grounds, holding her thin jacket closed against the damp breeze. The nip in the air cleared her head. She reminded herself that for all his blustering, Brandon couldn’t control whatever decision she and Kevin reached about their marriage.
That decision, however, was far in the future. Brandon was right about one thing: the most important task now was to see that Kevin pulled through, that he took this latest warning more seriously than he had the last. She, more than anyone, wanted to see his masculine vitality restored, to see his pallor replaced by the healthy glow he’d once had.
She recalled the way he’d looked on their wedding day, his hair too long by his father’s standards and tousled by a spring breeze. Used to seeing him in jeans and denim jackets, she’d thought he looked outrageously sexy and impressive in custom-tailored gray slacks and a blue dress shirt. She’d never guessed he owned clothes like that, though it stood to reason he would, given the family’s business in textiles and their social standing. Usually, though, Kevin had rebelled at anything that hinted at his privileged background.
Most of all, Lacey recalled the expression of adoration on his face when she’d joined him on that blustery hillside. She had been so proud to become his wife, so touched by the tender vows he’d written himself. The emotions she had felt that day had only deepened with time. In the end she had loved him enough to leave, loved him enough to risk everything she cared about on the one slim chance that the desperate measure would force him to face the dangers of his present life-style.
Steeped in bittersweet memories, Lacey walked until it was time to go back in to see Kevin. She avoided the waiting room and Brandon, going instead straight to the cardiac unit.
She found Kevin with his eyes closed, his expression more peaceful. His jaw was shadowed by the first faint stubble of a beard that under other circumstances she might have found sexy because of its ruggedly sensual look. It would have reminded her of the rebellious, bearded young man who’d marched for peace at a time when his father was backing the Vietnam War. Today it only reminded her of how sick he was, because that shadow emphasized his pallor.
Seated by his bed, his hand in hers, Lacey’s thoughts began drifting back again. She was startled when she heard him whisper her name.
“Lacey, is that you?”
“It’s me, Kevin.”
“You stayed,” he said, gently squeezing her hand. He sounded surprised.
“I stayed,” she murmured, then added wearily, “but dammit, Kevin Halloran, did you have to go to this extreme just to get my attention?”
“You’re here, aren’t you?” he responded with that familiar teasing note in his weakened voice. His tone sobered. “What’s Linc saying?”
“He says you’re going to be all right, if you take care of yourself and slow down.”
A faint twinkle sparked in his eyes as his gaze met hers. “Sounds like a fate worse than death.”
“Don’t you dare joke about it,” she said furiously, jerking her hand from his and poking it into her pocket. “You scared the daylights out of all of us.”
“Does Jason know? He came to see me at the office. Was it last night? Or before? I’ve lost track of the time.”
“It was two nights ago. He came to see me last night. He was with me when the hospital called.”
“I’m afraid we had words.”
“So he mentioned. He’s frustrated and confused. He wants to help, but he doesn’t know how.”
Kevin sighed heavily. “That makes two of us.”
Lacey bit back a retort that would match the faint edge of bitterness in his. If she started saying all that was on her mind—the whole jumble of fury and regrets—Linc would throw her out of intensive care.
“Lace?”
She met Kevin’s troubled gaze. “Yes.”
“You haven’t forgiven me, have you?”
Faced with that unblinking, uncompromising stare, she could only shake her head. Instead of saying more, she deliberately changed the subject.
“Your father is outside. He’s been here all night. In fact, he was driving the staff crazy because he had to wait to find out what was going on. I think he thought
he ought to be in here telling them how to get the oxygen started.”
Lacey waited for Kevin’s familiar grinning response to tales of his father’s efforts to manage life on his terms. Instead he winced. Lacey caught his effort to hide it and asked, “Are you in pain? Should I call the nurse?”
He grimaced. “I feel as if I’ve been run over by a truck.”
“You look like it, too.”
He reached for her hand again and when she finally placed it in his, he held on tight. “You were right, weren’t you, Lace?”
“About what?”
“The work. I got my priorities all screwed up.”
Lacey hadn’t wanted to wring an admission from Kevin like this. Besides, the truth of the matter was that work was only part of the problem. Worse was the fact that the man who’d been her lover and best friend had too often seemed little more than a stranger.
“Now’s not the time to talk about that,” she told him.
“Can we talk about it, though?” he said, a sense of urgency in his voice.
“I always thought we could talk about anything,” she replied softly, unable to hide the regret.
Blue eyes pinned her. “Until I shut you out,” he said.
“I never said that.”
“But it’s the truth. I did. I’m sorry.”
“Kevin—”
“I want us to start over. When I get out of here, I want to go away, take a long vacation and make things right between us again. I’ve missed you these past months, more than I can say.” His voice faltered. “I just…I wanted you to know.”
When she didn’t say a word, couldn’t squeeze a sound around the tears that clogged her throat, he prodded, “Lace, what do you think? Can we give it a try?”
A part of her thought it was too late. A part of her wanted to scream that this sudden change of attitude was too easy, a quick reaction to a health crisis that would pass as soon as he felt more like himself again.
And yet a part of her yearned for the way it used to be between them, wanted to believe it was possible to recapture the richness of their love.
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