Shared Secrets

by Pam Mantovani

  “Mrs. DeLong.”

  She spun around to see a young doctor, tall and thin with his brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, heading their way. The fact that his green surgical scrubs looked freshly pressed, minus any blood stains, helped her find some semblance of composure.

  “I’m Dr. Carlson.”

  “Stephanie?” she asked.

  “Your daughter has a mild concussion and a nasty cut along the hairline of her left temple.” He glanced over at Micah’s jeans. “Head wounds are notorious for bleeding and looking worse than they are. We did routine cat scans, eliminating any worry about severe head trauma. We were able to get her stabilized before the threat of hemorrhaging could become a factor.” Taylor’s whimper had him pausing.

  “X-rays indicate her spleen is ruptured. She needs surgery. As soon as possible.” He offered Taylor a metal clipboard. She could only stare at it as the ramifications of his words echoed through her mind.

  “Taylor.” Lucas stepped up beside her, wrapped his hand around her elbow, and squeezed. “You have to sign the release form before they can operate.”

  She nodded and blindly signed the forms where Doctor Carlson indicated as he continued to explain. From the corner of her eye she saw Lucas support Micah as he eased onto a bench.

  “Your daughter’s youth and general good health strongly enhance her chances for a quick recovery.” He frowned as Taylor handed back the clipboard. “Frankly, our biggest worry concerns are the RH factor of her blood. By any chance, Mrs. DeLong, are you an acceptable donor for your daughter?”

  “No.” She drew in a shallow breath. “Stephanie’s father…” She bit down on her bottom lip. God, the words were harder to say than she’d ever thought they would be. Even knowing Stephanie’s life hung in the balance, it was hard to say aloud what for so long she’d kept silent. The warmth of Lucas’s hand curling around hers did nothing to erase the chill in her blood. “Stephanie’s father has the same blood type she does.”

  “I see. Well, under the circumstances we’ll try and keep her stabilized while we search the blood banks in the area and try to find a suitable match.”

  “Doctor Carlson,” Taylor interrupted. “Can you give me a few seconds? We’ll be right back.” Keeping a death grip on Lucas’s hand, she all but dragged him toward the empty waiting room.

  “Taylor, what are you doing? You heard the doctor. It’s important for Stephanie get into surgery as soon as possible.”

  “Lucas.” She stared into his eyes. Please, she prayed, please understand without making me take too much time to explain. “You have to give your blood. You’re the only one who can help Stephanie.”

  “But—”

  “You’re the only one, Lucas.”

  She saw the moment the realization came to him. “Damn you,” he swore. Quickly he grabbed her arms and shook her. “I’m her father?”

  “Yes.”

  His hands freed her as if he couldn’t stand to touch her. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

  “Yes. I was,” she promised when he swore again. “Today, when I got home.”

  “I wish I could believe you.”

  Taylor wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. She’d known he wouldn’t blindly accept her explanation, knew she deserved every lash of his hurt. All she could hope for was to convince him not to let his feelings toward her cloud his decision.

  “You were right this morning. Trust is more than just a few words. Please,” she pleaded as tears began to run down her cheeks. “You trusted me with Micah’s life, now I’m trusting you with Stephanie’s. Please, Lucas, don’t make my daughter pay for my mistakes.”

  “Our daughter.” Without another word, he turned and went back to Doctor Carlson. “Show me where to go.”

  Lucas lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. The glare of the overhead lights added to the pounding behind his eyes. Still, he found it impossible to lower his lids and shut out the light. Impossible because then he saw too easily the look on Taylor’s face as she pleaded with him to save Stephanie’s life.

  You’re the only one who can help Stephanie.

  His hand squeezed and relaxed on the foam tube the way the nurse had instructed him. The rhythmic motion would help the blood, his blood that Stephanie had inherited, flow faster, filling the plastic bag hanging from the edge of the cot on which he lay. He could hold at bay Taylor’s face, but not images of the past weeks.

  His hand squeezed tighter, more rapidly, as he remembered instructing Stephanie in the workshop on how to sand wood. Was that light touch of hers, the artistic leaning that showed in her photography, something he’d passed on to her? He recalled the look on her face, and the feel of her in his arms, when he told her to keep his camera as an early birthday gift.

  Lucas also remembered the way tears had filled Taylor’s eyes when she’d commented Stephanie was so much like her father. Who had Taylor meant—him or Stephen DeLong?

  Damn it. How could she not have told him? How could she have married another man knowing she carried his child? Lucas’s hand stilled a second and then began to pump faster.

  How could he resent her for doing almost exactly the same as he’d done with Micah?

  That was why she’d been so adamantly against the idea of Stephanie and Micah growing close. She’d believed they were half brother and sister.

  Oh, God. He closed his eyes. What had they done to one another? How had they gotten to the point where they were both so afraid to be truthful? Could he put aside pride and forgive Taylor for denying him the chance to be part of his daughter’s life? Could he forgive her for passing Stephanie off as Stephen DeLong’s daughter? And really, how could he not? All she’d done was make the decisions and choices she felt was best for their daughter. She’d done nothing less than he would have expected.

  “Almost finished, Mr. Black,” said a nurse as she made another routine check on him. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine,” Lucas answered, although he felt anything and everything but that simple emotion.

  “Dr. Carlson’s a good surgeon,” the nurse reassured him. “I know he looks a little different, what with that ponytail and all, but he knows his business. That girl’s in good hands.”

  That girl. My daughter. My flesh and blood.

  Despite the surprise, and all the conflicting emotions, Lucas felt a burst of pride. Oh, he loved Micah no less than he ever had, or ever would. But Stephanie was his. His and Taylor’s, conceived from a night of purest love.

  The soft chink of a dropped weight indicated the bag had filled. His arm jerked a little, and he winced at the quick stab of pain from where the needle remained embedded in his vein.

  “No need to get jumpy on me now. You’re all through.” The nurse smiled. “You can stop squeezing,” she instructed as she slipped the foam from his grasp. She began to fasten a clamp on the tube and stop the blood flow.

  Lucas felt an instant of panic with the realization that he didn’t want to stop. To stop meant he’d done all he could for Stephanie.

  Just as it meant he was free to return to where Taylor and Micah sat in the waiting room.

  She had no more fingernails to bite. Taylor looked at her hands, the fingers spread wide and trembling, and nearly let loose the tears she’d managed to keep dammed up.

  When Lucas first walked away with Dr. Carlson, she’d kept busy by filling out insurance forms and relating Stephanie’s medical history. The routine busy work had kept her mind blessedly blocked of guilt and fear. Now with nothing else to do but wait, both came back.

  Her fingers curled into her palms, bringing no biting sting to relieve the worry. Or the images.

  She remembered lying on the delivery room table, hearing Stephanie’s cries for the first time. For a moment, pure joy had filled Taylor. Then there had been a sudden, fresh pain; a pain surpassing those that had given her a daughter. Lucas’s daughter.

  “I thought you might like some tea, Taylor.”

  She looked up to see Mi
cah standing before her, a white Styrofoam cup in his hand. He looked tired and she could see the glaze of pain dulling his eyes.

  “I talked to a nurse. Dad finished donating the blood. He should be here in a few minutes.”

  Her hands circled the cup of hot liquid as Micah sat beside her. She simply couldn’t stomach the thought of swallowing anything.

  “My dad,” Micah began, and then cleared his throat. “He’s Stephanie’s biological father, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  Micah sat quietly a few moments longer. “This is my fault.”

  Taylor looked at him and saw the cloud of regret in his blue eyes. In a reverse situation she believed Lucas would do whatever he could to calm and soothe Stephanie. So, she placed the filled cup on a table bearing an assortment of magazines, then reached for both of Micah’s hands. Her fingers grazed the rough plaster of his cast.

  “How can you say this is your fault?”

  “I’m the one who let Stephanie talk me into going to the mountainside. She thought we both needed to get out of the house while you were in town. You know, to try and not think about everything that was going on.”

  “Micah, you should have learned by now that when Stephanie has her mind set on something it’s next to impossible to stop her.”

  His lips curved a little.

  “More importantly, Stephanie wanted to be with you.” Taylor paused, then added, “She’s in love with you.”

  “You don’t approve.”

  “I didn’t.” She realized Micah didn’t deny Stephanie’s feelings. Nor did he indicate his own. If her daughter recovered, when she recovered, would Stephanie then have to face the hurt of a broken heart? Taylor knew she could help Stephanie heal physical wounds from a fall, but how could she help her daughter repair damaged feelings?

  “I thought you were Lucas’s biological son.” Micah’s gaze, guarded, met hers. “Stephanie told me. Last night.” An eternity ago.

  “It’s because Lucas is Stephanie’s biological father that I didn’t want you and her together. I thought you were half brother and sister.”

  “But I’m not his,” Micah said, his voice low and full of uncertainty. “Not the way Stephanie is.”

  “You may not be Lucas’s flesh and blood. But here…” She freed a hand, lifted it to his chest, felt the hard thump of his heart. “Here is where no one, not even Stephanie, can take your place. And that is something you should never, ever, forget.”

  “She’s right, Son.”

  Taylor and Micah looked up to see Lucas listening to them. There was a gauze wrapped around his right elbow and someone had placed a red heart sticker bearing the logo Be nice to me, I’ve given blood today on his white shirt. Her legs were unsteady when she and Micah stood.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Fine.”

  As Lucas pulled Micah close for a fierce hug, Taylor struggled to not resent his one word reply and his attention on his son. If the situation were reversed, she imagined she’d do the same.

  “I love you, Micah. Don’t ever forget that.”

  “I love you, Dad.”

  With an arm staying around Micah’s shoulders, Lucas looked at Taylor. “Have you heard anything?”

  “No. One of the nurses said Dr. Carlson would come talk with me…us, as soon as the surgery is completed.” Her breath hitched as she caught the sob before it broke free. She didn’t know how much longer she could stand by and not know what he was thinking. “Lucas, I…”

  He released Micah and took her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist, not caring if she clung or not. “Not now, Taylor,” he whispered. “Let’s wait until we know for sure that Stephanie’s going to be all right.”

  Taylor eased out of his arms. “I can give you both this much at least. This morning, Rebecca admitted Tommy raped her. The charges against Micah have been dropped.”

  She spent the next hour explaining the morning events, answering Lucas and Micah’s questions. Finally, Micah slumped back on the seat.

  “I can’t believe it’s over.”

  “Actually, it’s not.” Taylor swept back her bangs and glanced out toward the hospital corridor. “The press has already contacted me. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear they’re outside now. Eventually we’ll need to make a statement.” She sighed and rubbed at her temple. “They’ll want to talk to Stephanie about her role in this.”

  “What are you going to tell them?” Lucas asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  When she glimpsed Dr. Carlson come through wide automatic doors, Taylor jumped out of the chair and took a few steps. “Stephanie?” she asked. Lucas and Micah stood behind her.

  “Your daughter’s in recovery. The surgery went well, and I don’t anticipate any complications. Of course, we’ll need to keep her here for several more days until we’re sure she’s not at any risk of developing an infection.”

  Taylor closed her eyes and whispered a prayer of thanks. Even as she acknowledged the physical complications could be far easier to deal with than the emotional upheaval that was sure to follow.

  “Can we see her?” Lucas asked.

  Dr. Carlson scrubbed his hands down his face. “She’s going to be in recovery a little longer, but I’ll have a nurse show you which room they’ll be moving her into.”

  They had to wait another long forty minutes in the empty room, with Taylor pacing and Lucas and Micah leaning against a wall, before Stephanie’s bed was wheeled in. She had only a quick glimpse of her daughter against the stark white sheets before the nurse asked the three of them to leave the room while she took Stephanie’s vital signs and checked on her dressing.

  In the hallway, Taylor very nearly broke down. The sight of Stephanie in that bed, looking so pale and weak, reminded her of those first few days of Stephanie’s life. Twice now, she’d come close to losing her daughter. She studied Lucas and feared she still could.

  “You can go in,” the nurse said as she left Stephanie’s room. “But don’t stay long. Sleep is her best medicine right now.”

  Stephanie’s eyes opened when they entered the room. “Mom?”

  “Oh, baby.” Taylor rushed to the bed, softly brushing a kiss on Stephanie’s cheek. If not for the tubes, she would have gathered her baby into her arms and held on. Instead, she settled for stroking a hand on Stephanie’s cheek.

  “I guess this is where I say I’m sorry. Again.”

  “No,” Taylor corrected. “This is where I say I love you. Always.”

  Stephanie’s eyes filled with tears as her gaze shifted, moving over Lucas to stop at Micah. “You’re hurt.” The tears slid down her cheeks.

  Micah went to her, gently settling the fingers showing at the end of his cast onto her arm. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” His fingers moved up to catch a tear, then to stroke down her now bare earlobe. “You can be the first to sign my cast.”

  Her lips curved ever so slightly as her lids lowered. “We were having such a nice morning.” When her eyes popped back open and she looked at her mother, her dark green eyes were filled with a combination of a child’s innocence and a woman’s love. “Becky?” she asked, her eyes bright and alert for a moment. “What happened?”

  “Your pictures did the trick, baby. The charges against Micah have been dropped.”

  “Good.” Again, her lids drifted shut, then, immediately opened. “My camera?”

  Micah shook his head. “Smashed to pieces. I’m sorry, Steph.”

  “I’ll get you another one,” Lucas offered from where he stood at the end of the bed.

  “It won’t be the same.”

  “No,” Lucas agreed, his gaze locking with Taylor’s. “It won’t be the same.”

  “Can I have something to drink?” Stephanie asked.

  “Of course.” Grateful for the excuse to pull away from Lucas’s commanding stare, Taylor poured water out of the plastic pitcher the nurse left bedside. Adjusting the flexible straw, she cautioned, “D
rink it slow.”

  Stephanie grimaced as she shifted her legs under the blanket. “How bad was I hurt?”

  “You have a nasty gash on your head.” Taylor stroked a gentle hand over the bandage. Stephanie’s eyes closed.

  “Guess it’s a good thing I have such a hard head.”

  Taylor bit down on her lip to keep the chuckle contained. She was afraid if she relaxed, she’d lose control. “I’ve never been more thankful for it.” She kissed Stephanie’s forehead. “You also ruptured your spleen. They had to operate and…” The explanation caught in her throat.

  “Great, just great.” The words were haltingly offered, a sign of the drugs running though her, but Stephanie persisted. “Now I’ll never be able to wear a bikini again.”

  “Hey,” Micah said. “I’ll let you model one for me anytime.”

  “Deal. Soon as I get out of here.”

  It was obvious Stephanie was exhausted and uncomfortable. Taylor wondered how she could add to her daughter’s pain by finally being honest about her biological father. And yet, wasn’t that what she’d been doing all these years by continuing to hold back the truth?

  Lucas moved to the bed side, his hand lowering to cover the one holding tight to Stephanie’s.

  “Why don’t we leave and let Stephanie get some rest?” Lucas suggested.

  Taylor looked at him, her breathing strained, regret like a boulder in her stomach. For the past eighteen years, she’d studied and worked in a career often marked by slanting of words in order to defend a person’s action. Now that she had to do so in her own defense would she be able to find the right words?

  “Go home, Mom,” Stephanie said. “You look awful,” she added, though her eyes remained closed.

  “Gee, thanks.” Taylor bent down to kiss Stephanie’s cheek. She knew her daughter would rest better without her hovering but it was hard, so very hard, to walk away.

  “I love you, baby. Get some rest.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Taylor watched, her heart hammering in her chest as first Lucas and then Micah each leaned down to kiss her daughter’s cheek. She saw the searching look in Lucas’s gaze as he whispered something that had Stephanie grinning. She watched as Micah gently squeezed her fingers with his—and how Stephanie’s fingers tightened to keep hold of him a little longer. Taylor turned her back and took a hasty swipe at her tears.