by Lonely Lady
The Killains were somber at the dinner table on Sunday. It was the first time in days they'd all been together, with the boys home, as well. It was more like a wake than a meal.
"Natalie graduated yesterday," Bob said coolly, glaring at Mack and Vivian, who wouldn't look at him. "My friend Gig's sister was in her class. She said that Natalie didn't have one single person of her own in the crowd for baccalaureate or graduation. Viv?"
Vivian had burst into tears. She pushed away from the table and went upstairs as fast as her healing lungs would allow.
Mack threw down his napkin, leaving his supper untouched, and stalked out of the room, as grim as death itself.
Bob looked at his brother and grimaced. "I guess I should have kept my mouth shut."
"I don't see why," Charles replied irritably. "Natalie belongs to us, to all of us. But the two of them behave as if she's at the top of the FBI's most-wanted list. It's that damned Whit, you mark my words. He did something or said something that caused this. He's going around with old Murcheson's daughter now, and she's grubstaking his gambling habit. Everybody knows it. He even said that our sister was only a means to an end, so if Natalie was the cause of that breakup, good for her! She saved Viv from something a lot worse than pneumonia. Not that anybody but us cares, I guess," he muttered as he attacked his steak.
In the hall, Mack overheard and scowled. He'd thought Whit had left Vivian for Natalie, so why was he going around with the Murcheson girl? First Natalie's impassioned denial, now Viv's hysterical retreat. Something was wrong here.
He followed Vivian upstairs to her room. She was sitting in the chair by her bed, tears rolling down her pale cheeks. He sank down on the bed facing her.
"Why don't you tell me why you're crying, Viv," he invited gently.
She wiped at her red eyes with a tissue to catch the tears. "I lied," she whispered.
His whole body stiffened. "I beg your pardon?"
"I mean, Natalie was pretty disheveled and Whit's hair was ruffled. They looked like they'd been making out," she said defensively. "I didn't actually see them, though. But there was nobody else in the house except the two of them and they were down there for almost an hour." Her face hardened as she said it, so she missed the sudden pallor of her brother's face.
"I was down there," he snapped. "Whit went out to get cigarettes. He'd just come back and made coffee when he and Natalie went up to your room."
She gaped at him. Her jaw fell. Horror claimed her face. "Oh, no," she whispered. "Oh, dear God, no!"
"She did nothing. With Whit," he added, averting his gaze to the window. He looked, at that moment, as if he'd never smiled in his life. He was hearing himself accuse Natalie on the street in front of half a dozen bystanders of being a faithless tease.
Now it made sense. Mack had gotten drunk because he thought Natalie had gone straight from his arms to Whit's. Vivian had told him so, believing that Natalie and Whit had been alone for that hour. Whit had admitted it. And all the time...
"I'll go to her," Vivian said at once. "I'll apologize, on my knees if I have to!"
"Don't bother," he said, getting to his feet. "She won't let you past the porch. I told her she wasn't welcome here ever again." His fists clenched at his hips. "And several other things that were...overheard," he added through his teeth. "She went to her graduation all alone." He had to stop because he was too choked to say another word. He went out without looking at Vivian, and the door closed with a jerk behind him.
Vivian put her face in her hands and bawled. Out of her own selfishness, she'd destroyed two lives. Mack loved Natalie. And she knew—she knew—that Natalie loved Mack, had always loved him! It wasn't Natalie who'd betrayed them. It was Vivian herself. Her pride had been hurt because Whit preferred Natalie, but she'd been done a huge favor. She was besotted enough with the man to have given him all the money he'd asked for. She'd had a narrow escape, for which she had Natalie to thank. But they weren't friends anymore. They'd pushed Natalie out of their lives. It was wishful thinking to suppose she'd forgive them or ever give them a chance to hurt her again. She'd never really been loved, unless it was by the parents who'd been so tragically killed in her childhood. She was alone in the world, and she must feel it now more than ever before. Vivian took a deep breath and dried her eyes. Surely there was some way, something she could do, to make amends. She had to.
Mack went off on a prolonged business trip the next day. He barely spoke to Vivian on his way out, and he looked like death warmed over. She could only imagine how he felt, after the way he'd behaved. Natalie might forgive him one day, but she'd probably never be able to forget.
It took her two days to get up enough courage to drive over to Natalie's house and knock on the door. She got a real shock when the door was opened, because there were two suitcases sitting on the floor, and Natalie was dressed for travel.
"Natalie, could I speak to you for a minute?" Vivian asked hesitantly.
"A minute is all I have," came the cool, distant reply. "I thought you were my cab. I have to get to the airport. One of my college professors is letting me fly with her to Dallas."
"What's in Dallas?" Vivian asked, shocked.
"My new job." Natalie looked past her at a cab that was just pulling into the driveway. She checked to make sure she had her purse and all the documents she needed before she lifted her suitcases and put them on the porch. She locked the door while Vivian stood nearby, speechless.
"I've put the house on the market," she continued. "I won't be coming back."
"Oh, Nat," Vivian whispered miserably. "I lied. I lied to Mack. I thought... You were downstairs and so was Whit, for an hour or more. Whit didn't deny what I accused him of doing with you. But I didn't know Mack had come home."
Natalie looked straight at her. In that instant she looked as formidable as Vivian's taciturn brother. "Mack believed you," she said. That was all. But it was more than a statement of fact. It meant that he didn't even suspect that Natalie might be innocent. She was tarred and feathered and put on a rail without qualm.
"I'm his sister. I've never lied to him before," she added. "Nat, I have to tell you something. You have to listen!"
"Are you the lady who wants to go to the airport?" the cabdriver asked.
"Yes, I am," Natalie said, carrying her bags down the steps without another word to Vivian.
"Don't go!" Vivian cried. "Please don't go!"
"There's nothing left in Medicine Ridge for me, and we both know it, Vivian," she told the other woman without meeting her eyes as the cabdriver put both her bags in the trunk and then went to open the back door for Natalie to get into the cab. "You've finally got what you wanted. Aren't you happy? I'll never be even an imagined potential rival for any of your boyfriends again."
"I didn't know," Vivian moaned. "I jumped to conclusions and hurt everybody. But please, Natalie, at least let me apologize! And don't blame Mack for it. It's not his fault."
"Mack doesn't want me," Natalie said heavily. "I suppose I knew it from the beginning, but he made it very clear the last time I saw him. He'll date Glenna and be very happy. Maybe you will, too. But I'm tired of being the scapegoat. I'm going to find a new life for myself in Dallas. Goodbye, Vivian," she said tersely, still without looking in Vivian's direction.
Vivian had never felt so terrible in all her life. She stood on the steps, alone, and watched the best friend she'd ever had leave town because of her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to the retreating cab. "Oh, Natalie, I'm so very sorry!"
She had to tell Mack that Natalie had gone, of course. That was almost as hard as watching Natalie leave. She found him in his study, at the computer, making decisions about restocking. He looked up when he saw her at the door.
"Well?" he asked.
She went into the room and closed the door behind her. She looked washed out, miserable, defeated.
"I went to apologize to Natalie," she began.
His face tautened, and he looked a little pa
ler. But he gathered himself together quickly and only lifted an eyebrow as he dropped his gaze to the computer screen. "I gather that it didn't go well?"
She fingered her wristwatch nervously. This was harder than she'd dreamed. "I was just in time to see her leave."
He frowned as he lifted his head. "Leave?"
She nodded. She sat in the chair beside the desk, where she'd sat and watched him the night he got drunk. She hated telling him what happened. He'd had so much responsibility in his life, so much pain. He'd never really had anyone to love, either, except for his siblings. He'd loved Natalie. Vivian had cost him the only woman who could have made him happy.
"Leave for where?" he demanded shortly.
She swallowed. "Dallas."
"Dallas, Texas? Who the hell does she know in Texas?" he persisted, still not understanding what Vivian was saying.
"She's got a job there," she said reluctantly. "She's...selling her house. She said she wouldn't be coming back."
For a few seconds, Mack didn't speak. He stared at his sister as though he hadn't understood her. Then, all at once, the life seemed to drain out of him. He stared at the dark paneling of the wall blindly while the truth hit him squarely in the gut. Natalie had left town. They'd hurt her so badly that she couldn't even stay in the same community. Probably the gossip had been hard on her, too, because Mack had made harsh accusations in front of everyone. And how did you stop gossip, when it was never spoken in public?
He sank down into his chair without a word.
"I tried to explain," she continued. "To apologize." She swallowed hard. "She wouldn't even look at me. I don't blame her. I've ruined her life because I was selfish and conceited and obsessed with jealousy. Now that I look back, I realize that it wasn't the first time I saw Nat as a rival and treated her accordingly. I've been an idiot. And I'm sorry, Mack. I really am."
His chest rose and fell. He toyed with the pencil on the desk, trying to adjust to a world without at least the occasional glimpse of Natalie. Now that he'd lost her for good, he knew how desperately he loved her. It was a hell of an irony.
"I could go to Dallas and try to make her listen," Vivian persisted, because he looked so defeated. Her brother, the steel man, was melting in front of her.
His shoulders seemed to slump a little. He shook his head. "Let her go," he said heavily. "We've done enough harm."
"But you love her!"
His eyes closed briefly and then opened. He turned to the computer and moved the mouse to reopen his file, his face drawn and remote. He didn't say another word.
After a minute of painful silence, Vivian got up and left him there. She loved her brother. It devastated her to realize how much she'd hurt him lately. And that was nothing to what she'd done to Natalie. She could never make up for what she'd cost Natalie and her brother. But she wished she had the chance to try.
Natalie, meanwhile, had settled into a small apartment near the school. She'd interviewed for the position and after a few days, she was notified that she had the job. The teaching roster had been filled for the year, but one of the teachers had come down with hepatitis and couldn't continue, so there was a vacancy. Natalie was just what they wanted for the third graders, a bilingual teacher who could understand and communicate with the Hispanic students. She was glad she'd opted for Spanish for her language sequence instead of German, which had been her first choice. It had been one of only a few good moves she'd made in her life.
She thought about Vivian's painful visit and the admission that she'd lied to Mack about Natalie and Whit. So Mack knew, but he hadn't tried to stop her. He hadn't phoned or written. Apparently she didn't even mean that much to him. He must have meant all the terrible things he'd said to her on the street, where everyone could hear him.
Part of her realized that it was for the best. He'd said that he didn't want marriage or an affair, which could only have led to more misery for both of them. It was just as well that the bond was broken abruptly. But their history went back so far that she couldn't even conceive of life without Mack. And when Vivian was herself, they'd had such wonderful times together, along with Bob and Charles. Natalie had felt as if she belonged to the Killains, and they to her. Now she was cut adrift again, without roots or ties. She had to adjust to being alone.
At least she had a job and a place to live. She'd found work with a temporary agency for the summer so that she could save up for a few additions to her meager wardrobe for the beginning of school in August. She would survive, she promised herself. In fact, she would thrive!
But she didn't. The days turned to weeks, and although she adjusted to her new surroundings, she still felt like an outsider. When she began teaching, she was nervous and uncertain of herself, and the children knew it and took advantage of her tentative style. Her classroom was a madhouse. It wasn't until one of the other teachers, a veteran of first days on the job, came to restore order that she could manage to teach.
She was taken gently aside and taught how to handle her exuberant students. The next day was a different story. She kept order and began to learn the children's names. She learned to recognize other members of the staff, and she enjoyed her work. But at night, she lay awake remembering the feel of Mack Killain's strong arms around her, and she ached for him.
By the second week of school, she was beginning to fit in. But on the way home she passed a small basketball court and noticed two boys who looked barely high-school age pushing and shoving each other and raging at each other in language that was appalling even in a modern culture. On a whim, she went toward them.
"Okay, guys, knock it off," she said, pushing her way between them. Unfortunately she did it just as the hand of one boy went inside his denim shirt and came out with a knife. She saw a flash of metal and felt a pain in her chest so intense that it made her fall to the ground.
"You've killed her, you fool!" one of them cried.
"It was your fault! She just got in the way!"
They ran away, still arguing. She lay there, feeling a wetness on the concrete around her chest. She couldn't get air into her lungs. She heard voices. She heard traffic. She saw the blue sky turn a blinding, painful white....
Mack Killain was downloading a new package of software into his computer when the phone rang. It had been a busy summer, and the unwelcome bull roundup was under way, along with getting fattened calves ready for market and pulling out herd members that were unproductive. He'd worked himself half to death trying not to think about Natalie. He still did. She haunted him, waking and sleeping.
He picked up the receiver absently on impulse, instead of letting the answering machine take over, still loading his program while he said, "Hello?"
"Mack Killain?"
"Yes?"
"This is Dr. Hayes at the Dallas Medical Center," came a voice from the other end of the line.
Mack's heart stopped. "Natalie!" he exploded with a sense of premonition.
There was a pause. "Well, yes, I am calling about a Miss Natalie Brock. Your name and number were on an accident card in her purse. I'm trying to locate a member of her family."
"What happened? Is she hurt?" Mack demanded.
"She needs immediate surgery or she's going to die," the doctor said frankly, "but I have to have written authorization for it, and she can't sign anything. She's unconscious. I have to have a member of her family."
Mack felt his heart stop. He gripped the receiver tightly. "I'm her cousin," Mack lied glibly. "I'm the only relative she has. I'll sign for her. I can be there in two hours."
"She'll be dead in two hours," came the sharp reply.
Mack closed his eyes, praying silently. "I've got a fax machine," he said. "I can write out a permission slip on my letterhead and sign it and fax it to you. Will that do?"
"Yes. But quickly, please. Here's our fax number."
Mack jotted it down. "I'll have it there in two minutes," he promised. "Don't let her die," he added in a tone as cold as ice before he hung up.
&n
bsp; His hands shook as he stopped the loading process and pulled up his word processor instead. He typed a quick permission note, printed it out on ranch letterhead, whipped out two pens before he found one with ink, signed it, and rushed it into the fax machine. In the time he'd promised, he had it on the way.
He cut off the computer and picked up the phone, calling a charter service in a nearby city. "I want a Learjet over here in ten minutes to take me to Dallas. Don't tell me you can't do it," he added shortly. "I'll be waiting at the local airport." He gave the location and hung up.
There was no time to pack. He went barreling out of the office just as Bob and Charles came in behind a stunned Vivian.
"What's going on?" Vivian asked in concern, because Mack's face was white.
"I have no idea. But Natalie's in a Dallas hospital about to undergo emergency surgery. I had to sign for her, so if anybody calls here and asks, we're her cousins."
"Where are you going?" Bob asked.
"To Dallas, of course," Mack said impatiently, pushing past them.
"Not without us, you aren't," Charles told him bluntly. "Natalie belongs to all of us. I'm not staying here."
"Neither am I," Bob seconded.
"Where one goes, we all go," Vivian added. "I'm the one who caused all this in the first place. Natalie needs me, and I'm going. I'll make her listen to my apology when she's well."
