Heartsong

by Melinda Cross

  She looked up at the beautiful, chiselled face; the green eyes quiet and disturbingly innocent, as if he hadn't just betrayed one woman and used another. It seemed impossible that the mind behind such a face, the mind that created such beauty in music, could ever be capable of treachery, and yet obviously it was. And Madeline had been his partner.

  With all her strength of will she tried to hate him, yet he still had the power to tug at her heart, to twist it in his hands; and so because she couldn't hate him, she ended up hating herself instead.

  When he reached for her shoulder she scrambled backwards, her face contorted with the effort of holding back the tears.

  Startled, Elias reached for her again, then jerked back when she cried out, 'No! Don't touch me!'

  He froze in place and whispered, 'My God, Maddie. What's wrong?'

  She bit down on her lip, swallowing the traitorous sob that rose from her throat. 'It should never have happened—last night should never have happened…you had no right…' Her voice cracked and the dam that had been holding her emotions back for years crumbled, releasing the flood of her tears.

  Elias's expression stilled with shock. 'Maddie, Maddie… I'm sorry. I thought you wanted it, too… I didn't mean to hurt you…' His eyes darted over her face as if they couldn't believe what they saw through the pain. 'Dear God,' he whispered, his lips barely moving. He looked down, touching a hand briefly to his creased brow, and when he looked up again, his eyes were empty as if all the feeling had been drained from him.

  Without another word, he turned and walked away.

  Madeline stood under the hot spray of the shower longer than she should have, trying to steam away the tears and the emotions that prompted them—emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

  You can handle this, Madeline, she told herself, scrubbing at her skin until it flamed red, thinking that maybe if she hurt enough on the outside, the pain on the inside wouldn't seem so bad.

  The prospect of riding to the city in the same car as Elias and Becky horrified her, but there was no time to make other arrangements.

  She towelled dry quickly, combed out her wet hair, then dressed in the floor-length black jersey dress she wore for student recitals. She gazed indifferently at her reflection as she put on a minimum of make-up, remembering that the high-necked black dress always made her look as though she was in mourning. Today that seemed very appropriate.

  The ride to the city was every bit as nightmarish as she had imagined it would be. At her own insistence she sat in the back seat, curled in a corner pretending to sleep, while Becky talked to Elias about everything from village gossip to the musical talent of a young boy they both knew.

  Elias was sullen and withdrawn at first, but eventually Becky's conversational prodding seemed to make him relax. Once it made him chuckle, and the sound tore at the fabric of Madeline's heart. By the time they had reached the city, she had a headache from squeezing her eyes shut, trying to block out the sounds from the front seat.

  'We're here.' Elias parked in the dimness of a city parking ramp, shut off the engine, and turned in the seat to look at her. 'Are you awake?'

  'Just about.' She pretended a yawn that quickly became real.

  'Well, come on, then.'

  Madeline lagged behind the twosome, noticing almost against her will the way Elias looked at Becky, and who could blame him? She was even more beautiful today than usual, if such a thing were possible. She'd worn a smart black suit perfectly tailored to her voluptuous curves, with a skirt short enough to reveal the shapely calves that scissored beneath it. Those snapping, hot eyes of hers were even more dramatic with make-up, and her hair looked like a dark waterfall that sparked with fiery highlights every time she swung her head.

  Even if they'd been three friends with nothing to hide from each other, Madeline would have walked in their shadow. Being close to Becky made her feel uglier than ever.

  The album cover was to be photographed at the very concert hall where Madeline had first played for Elias, and there was a bitter irony to that. As they approached from the wings, Elias and Becky dropped back, and it was Madeline who first recoiled from the chaotic scene that sullied the normally pristine stage. Even the imposing concert grand seemed lost in the clutter of lights and cameras and hurrying, shouting people.

  Suddenly a figure rushed towards her from the confusion, arms outstretched, and Madeline almost wept at the comforting sight of that brilliant, familiar smile.

  'Angel!' David cried a greeting, and Madeline surprised herself by digging deep enough to find a smile of her own.

  Look at him, she thought as he approached, the sight of his dark, unruly curls and the merry sparkle of his eyes somehow comforting her. Could it be so hard to love this particular man? After all, Elias said that David was in love with her; surely she could learn, in time, to return the feeling…but then she glanced back at Elias, at the crisp, ascetic line of his profile, the black slash of his swept-back hair, and realised she could never love another man…not while Elias Shepherd lived in the same world.

  'Hello, David.' She smiled with genuine affection, more grateful than he would ever know for the gift of his love, even if she couldn't return it. Her smile faltered when he folded her into an embrace, because somehow it was different from the way he'd held her at Rosewood. It seemed a little stiff, almost distant, as if he, too, were pulling away from her. In the next moment, she realised why.

  'David?' Becky's voice came from just behind her, and Madeline watched David's face as he looked over her shoulder. The sparkle in his brown eyes seemed to melt with the unmistakable warmth of love, and his smile softened.

  Madeline watched in amazement as he stepped quickly around her, then swept Becky into an embrace she suspected didn't feel distant at all. She'd seen it in his eyes, and now she saw it in the tender, reverent touch of his hand on Becky's cheek.

  In that moment Madeline felt the fires of resentment flame high within her, and she had to bite down on the impulse to cry out against the unfairness of life. It was so simple for Becky—not only did she command the adoration of the man Madeline loved, but of the only man who might have loved Madeline.

  She stood in numb disbelief as David guided Becky and Elias on-stage before the camera, then scurried off to the other side.

  Time had no meaning for Madeline as the photographer shouted instructions, adjusted and readjusted lights, shot picture after picture of Becky sitting at the piano with Elias behind her. She saw everything that happened, but it was as if she were seeing it through a veil; removing herself to a distant place where pain could not reach her. She came to full attention only when the photographer finally shouted in frustration, 'Dammit, I can't get it. It's just not there. Have that girl play the music; maybe that'll get them into the mood, and then we'll try again.'

  Madeline sighed and moved woodenly across the stage to sit at the piano. She stared down vacantly, as if she'd never seen a keyboard before.

  'Play "Heartsong", Maddie,' Elias's voice came from somewhere behind her. 'Heartsong'—so that was what he'd named the theme song for the movie. Her hands lifted automatically and she wondered if she would always obey that voice, no matter what it asked, and then her left hand came down on the keys in a powerful bass chord that seemed to cry from the depths of a tortured man's soul. Every voice in the hall immediately fell silent.

  The first part of the overture was dark and full of thundering pathos, mirroring Madeline's own despair—exactly the kind of music that had first drawn her to Elias's compositions, with one exception. Unlike the ponderous, brooding scores the critics had panned, there was a counterpoint in this piece—a trembling treble dance that rose lightly, delicately over the pounding bass chords like the hopeful promise of spring after a late winter storm.

  Transported by the music, Madeline bent earnestly over the piano, her long, pale hair shimmering like a fall of crystal beneath the bright lights. In this, if in nothing else—as long as the music he wrote found its voice throug
h her hands—she and Elias were irrevocably joined.

  Her concentration was so great that she never noticed the rapt attention of everyone in the hall, the sense of so many holding a collective breath, waiting, waiting for something…nor did she wonder whose hand it was, suddenly pressing lightly against her shoulder. But then the music began to rise, lifting in a dance of melodic brilliance that fulfilled its earlier promise, and she knew it was Elias's hand on her shoulder. Once again she felt the current of his spirit flowing from his hand through her body to the keyboard, making her his instrument just as the piano was hers.

  The feeling was so intense that a shudder passed through her, but she knew that feeling would last only as long as this particular performance.

  Let it happen, she told herself, filling the air with the musical flight of her fantasy. Pretend for this one last time that the music is only the sound of the two of you loving each other.

  It was easy, then, to close her eyes and let her heart rise with the sounds of joy her fingers were making. It was easy to pretend that the fingers on her shoulder were pressing harder into her flesh, lending her his power, somehow joining his spirit with hers and taking them both higher than they had ever been before.

  Behind her closed eyes she saw stars going nova, the dazzling explosion of fireworks against a night sky, and her heart and her hands and the music rode up to greet them. Somewhere beyond the song, as if from a great distance, she heard someone shouting, 'That's it! That's perfect! Don't stop!' but the voice seemed part of a dream that only ended when her hands struck the final, triumphant chord.

  And then there was silence.

  Madeline slumped on the bench, her eyes still closed, feeling that at last she had given everything she had to give, and now she was empty.

  She was vaguely aware of low murmurs finally breaking the silence, gradually increasing in volume until it seemed that everyone around her was shouting with excitement—everyone but Elias. He was still behind her; she could feel his presence like the heat of the sun on her back; but he said nothing.

  She looked up at the sound of feet pounding across the wooden stage, and saw the photographer racing towards them, David and Becky and other people she didn't know close behind. Their faces all looked so strange, she thought; caught in that odd, tight expression that lay halfway between laughter and tears.

  'For God's sake, why didn't the two of you pose together in the first place?' the photographer demanded breathlessly.

  Madeline blinked at him, baffled by the question. Behind her, she heard Elias clear his throat nervously.

  'I'm telling you,' the photographer babbled on, 'I got more shots of the two of you in sixty seconds than I got in that whole first hour…' He turned quickly to Becky, apologising. 'No offence to you, miss. You're about as pretty as they come, but…'

  Amazingly, Becky grinned at him. 'You don't have to apologise to me. I saw what—'

  'What do you mean, you got shots of us?' Madeline interrupted.

  'The pictures, angel.' David moved to sit next to her and took her hand. 'Didn't you see the flashbulbs going off?'

  Madeline shook her head wordlessly, wondering how she could have missed anything as vivid as flashbulbs—and then her expression cleared as she remembered the stars going nova; the fireworks she'd seen behind closed eyes.

  'Now, I know you weren't too keen on the idea of posing for the album cover,' David was saying, 'but there wasn't a person in this room who didn't see on this stage exactly what should be on that album…you and Elias. Together.'

  The photographer chuckled. 'You can't fool the camera, you know. You want a picture of two people in love? Take a picture of two people in love!'

  Madeline stiffened on the bench, her hand going suddenly cold in David's. Dear lord, had she been so transparent? Could everyone see how she felt about Elias, merely by looking at her face? 'No,' she said quickly, wanting desperately to deny it before Elias did. 'That's not what you saw. We love the music, not each other.'

  Becky knew she was lying; Madeline could see it in her face. The beautiful brown eyes snapped with icy hatred that seemed to be a warning.

  Don't worry, Becky, Madeline thought with a rueful smile. I may love Elias, but you'll get no competition from me. You're the woman he loves.

  Suddenly Becky's eyes jerked to look behind Madeline, widened with something like alarm, then narrowed when they shifted back to her again. 'Nice work, Madeline,' she spat viciously, then she pushed her way around the bench and disappeared.

  Madeline sighed and closed her eyes, trying to slip down into that place deep inside where pain didn't reach, but David wouldn't let her. He was still next to her on the bench, and now his arm was around her shoulders and he was whispering into her ear. 'You're killing him, angel. Can't you see that?'

  She frowned hard, wondering why nothing anyone said today made any sense. If only they would all leave her alone; if only she could just disappear…

  She heard Becky call to David from somewhere off-stage, smiled sadly at how quickly he jumped to answer the call, then watched in indifference as the others drifted away from the piano one by one. Show's over, folks, she thought bitterly.

  She didn't know how long she had been sitting there alone when Becky appeared suddenly at her side, her face set in a rigid mask of fury.

  'All right, come on,' she snapped, jerking her thumb towards the door. 'Thanks to you, we'll have to drive ourselves home in David's car. Eli left without us.'

  Madeline frowned at yet another development that didn't make sense at all. Elias might have been embarrassed by what the photographer had said; perhaps even angry that such a thing had been said in front of Becky; but that wasn't much of a reason to storm off and leave them both behind.

  As it turned out, it wasn't. The real reason was worse.

  'Why would he leave us stranded?' she asked Becky in a small voice.

  'Because he can't bear to be with you,' Becky said coldly. 'That's why. Not let's go.'

  Madeline nodded absently, shrugging into that old cloak of indifference that had protected her for so many years.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Madeline sat rigidly in the passenger seat as Becky drove David's car towards Rosewood in furious, tight-lipped silence. What does she have to be angry about? Madeline thought, bitterness pricking through the numbness she felt. At last she's getting everything she wanted—Elias back at Rosewood, me out of the way…

  Her thoughts paused, as if to give her time to examine them. She hadn't realised until that moment that she had finally surrendered to the inevitable; she was ready to leave Rosewood.

  She sighed and turned her head to watch the countryside race past her window, thinking of the first time Elias had driven her to Rosewood. Had it really been less than a month ago? The world had seemed as bright as her future that day, with spring exploding everywhere she'd looked. This afternoon low-hanging clouds rested fat, dark bellies on the horizon, and Madeline seemed to feel their weight on her shoulders.

  'How will David get his car back?' she asked at last, not really caring, just weary of the strained silence.

  Becky's mouth twitched irritably. 'I'll take it back in tonight. I was supposed to stay in and have dinner with him anyway.'

  Madeline turned to look at her, pale brows arched slightly. 'You were going to have dinner with David?'

  'Yes-I-was-going-to-have-dinner-with-David,' Becky parroted sarcastically. 'What of it?'

  'Well…doesn't Elias mind?'

  'Why should he?'

  'Why should he?' Madeline echoed weakly. 'How can you ask that? He even told David you were off limits, the day they went to your house to talk about the album cover…'

  Becky's mouth tightened with impatience. 'No wonder David was so nervous that day,' she mumbled, more to herself than to Madeline. 'I should have guessed Elias had said something like that.'

  'He should have married you in the first place,' Madeline muttered, looking down at where her hands twined together
in her lap.

  'Wha-at?' Becky almost shouted, and the car swerved as her hands jerked convulsively on the wheel. 'Good God, Madeline! What an awful thing to say!'

  Madeline blinked at her, bewildered. 'Why? What's so awful about it?'

  'What's so awful about it?' Becky demanded. 'Are you out of your mind? Marry my own brother?'

  Becky was still talking—ranting, really, if the look on her face was any indication—but Madeline could no longer hear her. For a moment she heard nothing but the frantic scrambling of her own thoughts, trying to make sense of a world suddenly turned upside down.

  'Your brother?' she finally managed to whisper. 'Elias…is…your. . .brother?'

  Very slowly, Becky turned her head to look at her, dark brows tipped suspiciously. 'Of course he's my brother,' she said carefully. 'Well, half-brother, actually—you knew that…' When she saw Madeline's wide eyes, her head shaking back and forth in mute astonishment, the suspicion in her face was replaced by angry disbelief. 'How could you not know that?' she asked, glaring at the road ahead as if there were great sin in Madeline's ignorance.

  'No one told me,' Madeline whispered, barely moving her lips.

  'But you knew who I was when I came to the house that first day,' Becky insisted, scowling. 'You said Elias told you I was coming…'

  'He said you were coming; that you'd drive out from the village every day to cook and clean…he didn't say you were his sister—'

  'Half-sister,' Becky corrected automatically. 'We had the same father—different mothers.'

  Madeline sat motionless, trying to remember to blink, to breathe. 'You didn't grow up together?' she whispered.

  Becky shook her head. 'After Elias's parents were divorced, Dad married my mother and they had me. We lived further upstate and I never even met Elias until he and his mom came to the funeral…' Her voice began to crack and she had to pause a moment to collect herself. 'I'd just finished college when my folks were killed in a car accident—my whole family gone in the blink of an eye—or so I thought. At the funeral Elias and his mother told me I had family in Brighton Square, and it was time I got to know them—can you imagine that? I moved there a year later, and until the day she died I loved Elias's mother almost as much as I'd loved my own.'