It Started at Christmas...

by Janice Lynn

  Cecilia had arranged a voice coach who’d worked with McKenzie every night that week. Cecilia had called a client who happened to be one of the female singers in the show and arranged for McKenzie’s surprise performance. Lanette had been thrilled to help because she’d seen McKenzie and Lance save the mayor’s life and had thought them a perfect couple even back then.

  Now it was all up to McKenzie.

  She hated people looking at her and the entire room’s eyes were all trained on her, waiting to see what she was going to do. To see if she was going to cry or scream out like her parents.

  No, that’s not why they were here. That’s not why they were looking at her. They were here for entertainment. Entertainment she was about to add to, and perhaps not in a good way.

  She couldn’t sing.

  A week with a voice coach wasn’t going to fix that. A year with a voice coach couldn’t.

  But she’d learned what her voice’s strengths were and what her weaknesses were. Her performance wasn’t going to have any agents lining up to sign her, but hopefully her putting herself out there for him would impress a certain man enough for him to rethink two months, for him to open up his heart and let her inside, to at least give her, give them, a chance.

  The music started up as she made her way up the steps to the stage. One step. Two steps. Three steps. On the stage without falling. Yes, now, if she could just stay upright during her song, she totally had this.

  She made her way over to Lance, smiled at him suggestively as she ran her finger along his shirt collar. His body heat lured her in, making her want to touch him for real, but common sense said she was on a stage, everyone was watching, the show must go on and this wasn’t that kind of show.

  Taking a deep breath first that she hoped the microphone didn’t pick up, she broke into a song about going after what she wanted and making it hers.

  If he walked away from her, she’d look a fool.

  She’d feel a fool.

  But, even more, he might not forgive her for interfering in his show.

  Still, she agreed with Cecilia. She had to make a grand gesture to show Lance that she was serious about wanting him in her life, that she was willing to take risks where he was concerned, that she’d fight for him.

  That she’d sing for him.

  So she sang.

  His eyes searched hers and she couldn’t quite read his expression.

  Fine. She was going to do this, was going to put her heart into it, and whatever happened happened.

  She played her eyes at him, did her best to be sultry and seductive without being trashy, and felt a huge weight lift off her when Lance grinned.

  Thank God. At least he wasn’t going to have her look a fool on the stage.

  To those in the audience he looked believable. To McKenzie he looked more beautiful than anything she’d ever seen.

  She finished the song.

  Shaking his head, he wrapped her into his arms, spun her around, and kissed her forehead.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Dr. McKenzie Sanders.”

  The room filled with applause.

  “Bow,” Lance whispered, squeezing her hand.

  Feeling a bit silly, she did so.

  He led her off the stage and round to the back as Lanette took to the stage again to perform another song.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked the second they were out of sight of the audience.

  Ouch. Not exactly what she’d hoped to hear him say. Then again, what had she expected? For him to immediately know what her song had meant? He was a man. Sometimes men had to be hit over the head with the obvious for them to recognize the truth, or so her best friend had told her repeatedly.

  “I’m here to sing for you.”

  His brow lifted. “I thought you didn’t like singing?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then why?”

  “Because I want to be a part of the things you enjoy. Two months wasn’t enough time. I want more. I need more.”

  He considered her a moment, glanced at the other crew members who were backstage, then pulled her toward the back. “Obviously we need to talk, but this isn’t the time or the place.”

  “Obviously,” she agreed, knowing the other cast members were watching them curiously.

  “I have to be there for the last song. All the cast members will be onstage for it. I give my thanks to the cast and the Senior Citizen Center, and then we’ll take our bows.”

  “I can wait.”

  The others lined up to take the stage as soon as Lanette’s number ended. Lance glanced toward her and looked torn.

  “Go. I’ll be here when you’re finished.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “In case you haven’t figured it out just by my being here, I’m planning to stick around, Lance. Two months wasn’t enough time. At least, not for me. Unless... You’re not seeing anyone else, are you?”

  She’d not even considered that he might already be seeing someone else. She couldn’t imagine it. Not with the way he looked at her. But sometimes people did stupid things.

  “There’s no one else, McKenzie. Just you.”

  Although his face went a ghostly white at his own words, they put such joy into her heart that she threw her arms around him and kissed him, letting every bit of feeling inside her show in her kiss.

  One of the other singers cleared his throat, reminding them that Lanette’s number was coming to an end.

  “Sorry,” McKenzie apologized, then took it back. “No, I’m not sorry. Not that I kissed you anyway. Just that I haven’t kissed you every night for the past month. I’ve missed you.”

  * * *

  Lance pulled away from McKenzie without saying anything.

  He’d already said enough.

  He’d said there was no one else.

  Just her.

  How could he have said that?

  His insides shook.

  A crushing weight settled onto his chest.

  One that made breathing difficult, much less saying anything as he took to the stage.

  He went through the motions, had the cast bowing at the appropriate times, the crowd applauding, and the cast applauding the Senior Citizen Center. But he couldn’t keep his mind on what he was doing, no matter how much he tried.

  Just her. Just McKenzie.

  Not Shelby.

  How could he have said Just McKenzie?

  How could he feel that?

  He owed Shelby his dedication, his life, because he’d taken hers.

  Then it was time for Lance to thank everyone for attending and for their donations to Celebration Graduation.

  Only when he went to thank them did more words spill out than he’d meant to say. Words he’d never spoken out loud. Not ever.

  “I’ve had people ask me in the past why I’m so passionate about Celebration Graduation,” he began, staring out into the audience without really seeing anyone. “Most of the time I come up with an answer about how I believe in the cause and want to do my part. The truth goes much deeper than that. The truth is that I’m the reason programs such as Celebration Graduation need to exist. At the end of my junior year my girlfriend, who’d just graduated from high school, was killed in a car crash because I made the bad decision to drive while under the influence of alcohol. I lost control of the car and hit a tree. We were both airlifted to a trauma hospital. She died later that night.”

  * * *

  McKenzie covered her mouth with her hand.

  Oh, God. She should have known, should have figured out the truth behind Shelby’s death. Only how could she have?

  “So the truth is that my passion about Celebration Graduation, which gives teenagers an alternative to how they spend t
heir graduation night, comes from my own past mistakes. I lived through what I hope to prevent from ever happening again.” Lance’s voice broke and for a moment McKenzie didn’t think he was going to be able to say more, but then he continued.

  “Through Celebration Graduation I hope to keep Shelby’s memory alive, to make her life, her death matter, for her to make a difference in others’ lives because she was a very special person and would have done great things in the world had she gotten the chance.”

  Tears ran down McKenzie’s face. Dear Lord, she was devastated by the pain inside him. By the guilt inside him. She could hear it wrenched from him. He had loved Shelby.

  He did love Shelby.

  Lance’s heart belonged to another. Irrevocably.

  “Thank you for being here today, for helping me keep Shelby alive in my heart, and for making a difference in our youth’s lives through this wonderful program.”

  At first there was a moment of silence, as if the audience wasn’t sure whether to applaud or just sit there, then a single person clapped, then the room burst into applause.

  McKenzie watched Lance say something to Lanette. She nodded, and he disappeared off the opposite side of the stage.

  McKenzie waited at the side of the stage, but Lance didn’t reappear. After they’d mingled with the crowd, the other performers returned.

  “He told me to tell you he was sorry but that he had to leave,” Lanette told her in a low voice so the others couldn’t hear.

  “He left?” McKenzie’s heart pounded. He’d left. How could he do that, knowing she was backstage? Knowing she’d come to fight for him?

  But she knew.

  She recognized exactly what he’d done, because it was something she excelled at.

  He’d run.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  LANCE KNELT BESIDE the grave, thinking himself crazy for being at a cemetery at this time of night. The show hadn’t ended until after nine, and by the time he’d realized where he’d been headed it had been almost eleven.

  He hadn’t consciously decided to go to Shelby’s grave, but it’s where his car had taken him. Maybe it was where he needed to go to put things into proper perspective.

  Because for a few minutes he’d allowed himself to look into McKenzie’s eyes while she’d sung to him and he’d acknowledged the truth.

  He was in love with her.

  Right or wrong, he loved her.

  And she loved him. Perhaps he’d always known she felt that way, had seen the truth in her eyes when she’d looked at him, had felt the truth in her touch, in her kiss.

  She looked at him the way her mother looked at Yves. The way his mother looked at his father. The way his grandmother looked at his grandfather.

  Tonight, while she’d sung to him, McKenzie had looked at him with her heart shining through every word.

  In the past she’d fought that feeling, had been determined not to allow herself to be hurt by making the mistakes her parents had made. Tonight she’d put everything on the line and he’d felt exhilarated to realize she was there for him, that she loved him and wanted him.

  Then reality had set in.

  He wasn’t free to accept her love, to return her love. He’d vowed his love to another he owed everything to.

  And he’d resented his vow. He’d resented Shelby.

  The guilt of that resentment sickened him.

  “Forgive me, Shelby. Forgive me for that night. Forgive me for not keeping you safe,” he pleaded over the grave, much as he had many times in the past.

  “Forgive me for still being here when you’re not.”

  Wasn’t that the crux of the matter?

  He’d lived and Shelby hadn’t.

  How many times had he wished he could give his life for hers?

  Standing at this very graveside, he’d vowed that his heart would always belong to her, that he’d never love another, never marry another. Even at seventeen he hadn’t been so naive as to think he’d spend his life alone, so he had dated over the years, had been in relationships, but not once had he ever been tempted to sway from his promise to Shelby.

  Until tonight.

  Until McKenzie.

  With McKenzie everything had changed.

  With McKenzie he wanted everything.

  Because he really did want McKenzie.

  “Forgive me, Shelby. Forgive me for the way I feel about McKenzie. You’d like her, you know. She’s a lot like what you might have been at her age. She loves to run, just as you did. And she’s a doctor, just as you always planned to be. And I love her, just as I planned to always love you.”

  Guilt ripped through him.

  He swiped at moisture on his face.

  This was crazy. Why was he here? Then again, he felt crazy. He’d told everyone at the Senior Citizen Center his most guarded secret. He’d told them he’d essentially murdered Shelby.

  The authorities hadn’t seen it that way. Neither had Shelby’s parents or his own family. She’d been eighteen to his seventeen. She’d been caught drinking in the past, he’d been a stupid kid trying to fit in with her older friends, but he knew that he shouldn’t have been drinking or driving.

  Memories of that night assailed him. For years he’d blocked them from his mind, not wanting to remember.

  Shelby dancing. Shelby smiling and laughing. Shelby so full of life. And liquor. She’d been full of that, too.

  She’d wanted more, had been going to take his car to get more, and he’d argued with her.

  Even with being under the influence himself, he’d known she’d been in no shape to drive. Unfortunately, neither had he been and he’d known it, refusing to give her his keys.

  She’d taken off running into the darkness, calling out over her shoulder that if he wouldn’t take her, she’d just run there.

  He should have let her. She’d have run herself sober.

  Instead, to the teasing of her friends that he couldn’t control his girlfriend, he’d climbed into his car and driven down the road to pick her up.

  But he hadn’t been taking her to the liquor store when he’d wrecked the car.

  He’d been taking her home.

  They’d been arguing, her saying she should have known he was a baby, rather than a man.

  He’d been mad, had denied her taunts, reminded her of just how manly she’d said he was earlier that evening, and in the blink of the eye she’d grabbed at the steering wheel and he’d lost control of his car and hit the tree.

  The rest had come in bits and pieces.

  Waking up, not realizing he’d wrecked the car. The smells of oil, gas and blood.

  That was the first time he’d realized blood had such a strong odor. His car had been full of it. His blood. Shelby’s blood.

  He’d become aware of people outside the car, working to free them from the crumpled metal, but then he’d lost consciousness again until they’d been pulling him from the car.

  Shelby had still been inside.

  “I can’t leave her,” he’d told them.

  “We’ve got her, son,” a rescue worker had said. “We’re taking you both to the hospital.”

  “Tell her I love her,” he’d said. “That I will always love her.”

  “We will, son. They’re putting her in the helicopter right now, but I’ll see to it she gets the message.”

  “Tell her now. Please. Tell her now.” He’d tried to get free, to go to her, but his body hadn’t worked, and he’d never got to tell her. He had no idea if the rescue worker had carried through with his promise or not.

  But as soon as Lance had been released from the hospital, he’d told Shelby himself.

  Kneeling exactly where he currently knelt.

  He’d been guilt-ridden then. He was just as
guilt-ridden now.

  “I’m so sorry, Shelby. I love her. In ways I didn’t know I could love, I love McKenzie.”

  He continued to talk, saying all the things that were in his heart.

  For the first time peace came over Lance. Peace and self-forgiveness. Oh, there was a part of him that would never completely let go of the guilt he felt that he’d made such bad choices that night, but whether it was the late hour or his own imagination he felt Shelby’s presence, felt her forgiveness, her desire for him to let go and move on with his life.

  Was he being self-delusional? Believing what he wanted to believe because he wanted McKenzie?

  “I need a sign, Shelby. Give me a sign that you really do forgive me,” he pleaded into the darkness.

  That was when he looked up and saw a ghost.

  * * *

  McKenzie couldn’t stay in the shadows any longer. For the past half hour she had leaned against a large headstone, crying, not knowing whether to make her presence known or not. She hadn’t purposely tried to keep her presence from him initially. He just had been so lost in his thoughts, in his confessions that he hadn’t noticed her.

  Lance had run away from her.

  Only he loved her. She’d known he loved her even before she’d heard his heart-wrenching words, and she hadn’t been willing to give him up without a fight. Especially not to someone who’d been gone for over fifteen years.

  She’d listened to him, cried with him and for him from afar, and had prayed for him to find forgiveness, to be able to let his guilt go.

  When he’d asked for a sign she’d swear she’d felt a hard shove on her back, making her stumble forward, almost falling in the process.

  “Shelby?”

  Her heart broke at the anguish in his voice. “It’s McKenzie, Lance.”

  Wiping at his eyes, he stood. “McKenzie? What are you doing here?”

  “I followed you.”

  “You followed me from the Senior Citizen Center?”

  “It wasn’t difficult as slowly as you drive.” Which she now finally understood. He liked his fast sports car, but never got it up over the speed limit.