Family Page 8

  “Yes.” Her smile remained, but her eyes grew watery. “We share what matters most, so there has to be a way, right? Maybe we need to ask God.”

  He had planned to kiss her, longed to take her in his arms and show her how much he felt for her. But her idea was even better. In his life, physical love had always come easy. It was this—a connection of his soul with the soul of someone he loved—that had been missing. He swallowed hard, giving his desire a chance to cool. Then he took her hands in his. “Let’s do that.”

  She looked surprised but only for a moment. “Pray?”

  He closed his eyes and bowed his head. “Lord, I’m new at this. But Bob tells me it’s as easy as talking to You. So here goes.”

  Katy tightened her hold on his hands.

  “We believe You’ve brought us together for a reason, God.” He exhaled, and it held all the frustration of the reality that still existed once they left the rooftop. “The thing is, my life won’t let me have what I want with her. Still, I read in the Bible the other day that nothing is impossible with You. So . . . we come here tonight asking You to show us a way. Please, God. No matter how out of control life seems in the coming days, help us keep our eyes on You. Help us remember this moment, this feeling. This prayer. And please, God, help us believe that somehow—someday—we can act on the feelings we have for each other. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  When they opened their eyes, he saw tears on her cheeks.

  Katy smiled at him. “That was perfect.”

  He grinned, but he took a step back. If he was going to keep things clean, keep them on an emotional level, he needed distance. Especially now. “You know what we need to do?”

  “What?” There was humor in her voice, and it lightened the mood.

  “We need to eat.”

  They both laughed and returned to the glider. They began eating without talking about the trial or Margie Madden or the fact that the rooftop was the only place they could find a moment of sanity. Instead Dayne told her about his conversations with his birth father. Already she knew that the two of them had met—though he’d kept all other details to himself. She knew Ashley after all. There was no reason to make the situation more complicated by letting her know that his family was the Baxters.

  She had her sandwich on the open wrapper, spread out on her lap. “Really? So you’ve been talking?”

  “Every few days.” He took a bite and realized how hungry he was.

  “So tell me about him.” She picked up her sandwich. “Do you like him? Are you feeling close to him?”

  Dayne nodded. “He’s the most amazing guy—strong in his faith. Wiser than anyone I know. His kids adore him—I can tell.” He felt the familiar winds of what might have been. “Makes me wish I’d known him all my life.”

  “He and his wife, they had no choice, right? They had to give you up?”

  “Yes. They would’ve given anything to keep me. But she was young, and her parents wouldn’t hear of it.”

  Katy already knew that his birth mother was dead. Dayne had shared that with her.

  They finished their sandwiches, talk between them slow and easy. The conversation shifted from Dayne’s birth father to Narnia, the play Katy’s kids were working on.

  “You were right that day.” He wadded up his sandwich wrapper and tossed it in the paper sack. “The scene where Aslan comes back to life, it’s the most powerful in the story.”

  “You didn’t want to talk about it.” Katy eased her knees up onto the glider and tucked her feet beneath her. “I could tell.”

  “I know.” He remembered that afternoon. They had been driving through a terrible storm, heading toward the Flanigans’ house when Katy brought it up. But he hadn’t wanted to think about Aslan or Narnia. He had been angry at God, still hurting badly over the areas in his life where he felt God deserved the blame. So he’d fallen quiet when she talked about the scene from the play. “I wasn’t ready to talk about an allegory about Christ, not back then. Too many questions in my mind, I guess.”

  She shifted so she was facing him. “I wasn’t going to push. I figured God could take care of that part.”

  “He did.” Again Dayne had to fight the urge to reach out to her, hold her close, and give in to the feelings raging in his heart. What had Bob Asher, his missionary friend, told him last time they talked? “Take things slow, buddy. Let her know your priorities have shifted.” Yes, that’s what tonight was about. Letting Katy see that even though he kissed her on the beach last night, his priorities had indeed shifted. He kept his distance.

  Another hour passed with easy talk and laughter, and then Dayne looked at his watch. “You need your sleep. It’ll be a long day tomorrow.” He patted her knee. “Let’s call it a night, okay?”

  Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but it lasted only a moment. “Good idea.” She stood, pushed her sandwich wrapper into the same paper sack, and smiled at him. “If I can fall asleep at all.”

  “You will.” He pointed up. “God’ll take care of that too.”

  She looked surprised, but her eyes danced. “He will, won’t He?”

  “Yes.” Dayne took her hand and led her slowly across the roof back to the stairwell. Before they walked down, he stopped and turned toward her. “Come here, Katy.”

  Her expression told him she’d been waiting for him to ask all night. She circled her arms around his neck, and he eased his around her waist. For a long time they held each other that way, swaying slightly in the cooling breeze.

  He brushed his cheek against her hair and whispered close to her ear, “Tonight was amazing. Just being with you, alone like this.”

  “It was.” She searched his eyes. Neither of them said anything for half a minute. Then she exhaled and eased back a little. “You’re not going to kiss me, are you?”

  “No.” He angled his head, willing her to understand. “What I feel for you . . .” He drew a slow breath and gathered his senses. He studied her face and spoke to a place he hoped belonged only to him. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Not ever.” He let his forehead rest against hers. “I’m trying to listen to God, Katy, trying to let you see it isn’t about stealing kisses and letting my body lead.”

  She was captured, holding on to every word. Her eyes told him that much.

  “Tonight we asked God to lead . . . so I am.”

  Katy didn’t blink, didn’t seem to want the connection between them to end. But her lips curved into a smile and she nodded. “Good enough.”

  “So—” he pulled her close once more—“even though I want to stay up here like this all night, I’m going to go.” He stepped back and took hold of her hands. “And tomorrow when things get crazy—” he grinned—“and they will . . .”

  “For sure.”

  He chuckled. “Tomorrow when that happens, just know I’ll be praying and that somehow . . . someway we’ll find ourselves in a sane place like this again. Because God will be leading us.”

  She looked like she wanted to say something, but the stars in her eyes—far more than the paltry few in the sky overhead—were enough.

  Dayne gave her a last look and led her down the stairs. They rode the elevator to her floor. He squeezed her hand just once. “Good-bye, Katy.”

  She smiled. “Good night.”

  And then she was gone. The elevator doors shut, and he leaned against the cool back wall. He’d told her the truth; that much was sure. His heart and mind and soul, all of it swirled together in the most amazing feeling he’d ever known. No one had made him feel this way, and suddenly he knew without a doubt that the decision to not kiss her tonight had been more God’s than his.

  “Keep talking to me, Lord,” he whispered as the elevator made its way down to the main level. “I’m listening.”

  His prayer from earlier came back. The things he’d asked for, a way to make his feelings for Katy real, could happen only through God’s intervention. But here, now, with her smile still fresh in his memory, Dayne believed with everything
in him that God would make it happen. And that somehow—somewhere down the road—he wouldn’t feel caught between two completely different lives. But rather the man he was in the quiet places on the beach and at home would win out. And the public persona would have to find a way to fall in line.

  So that he could spend forever acting on the deep things he had been allowed to feel for a few hours on a private LA rooftop.

  The night had been sheer magic. Never for a minute had Katy dreamed that after the horrific events of the day somehow she would wind up alone with Dayne in a rooftop garden overlooking the Hollywood Hills. As she stepped off the elevator, she breathed a dozen thanks to God for allowing them those precious hours, the chance to connect if just for a night—without the glare of the cameras.

  She slipped her key into her door and went inside. The most wonderful, unbelievable part was this: Dayne Matthews was a changed man. She could tell herself as much during their phone calls, convince her heart that the meeting he’d had in Mexico with his friend Bob Asher had truly changed him. But only after spending the past few hours with him could she be absolutely sure.

  She went to her window and leaned against the sill. When he’d taken her hands and prayed with her, she was sure she’d faint from the shock. She had to work the whole time to focus on what he was saying and not the more obvious fact—Dayne Matthews was praying with her!

  The view below was the same one they’d had from the roof, but this time the traffic and confusion didn’t feel overwhelming. It felt like a sea that could be bridged, an ocean that could be crossed. Yes, Dayne was living two lives. But at least one of them was like hers—passionate for God and desperate to find a way to work things out. They’d committed their future to God, and now it was up to Him to lead them.

  A smile lifted her lips as she thought about what Dayne had said, how he had made a decision not to kiss her so he could show her how much he cared. A part of her had wanted to take over, lean up, and kiss him first, before he could object. But almost as quickly she realized what he was doing. The decision was Dayne’s attempt at trying to follow God’s will where she was concerned—maybe for the first time.

  She hugged herself, warmed by the memory. In that case, she felt wonderful about his decision, safe and protected and more cared for than she could’ve described. She drew the curtains, turned, and looked at the phone on the table between the two beds. Jenny or Ashley or Rhonda, any of them would’ve been dying to know the details of her first full day in LA. Any other day she would call them, but not tonight. She yawned and headed for the bathroom instead. They would find out in the morning along with the rest of the country.

  For now, she wanted only to get ready for bed and turn in, her memory of tonight vivid and consuming. She refused to think about Margie Madden or the outbreak in court or the photos and press conference that might even now be coming together in a front-page story. All that mattered were Dayne’s words, his prayer.

  Fifteen minutes later she tucked herself beneath the crisp, cool sheets and closed her eyes. But the whole time she was back in Dayne’s arms, in a rooftop world of their own, believing that God would lead the way to a future that neither of them could quite see.

  No matter what the morning papers held.

  Sunlight slipped through the crack in the heavy curtains, and Katy woke with a start. Through bleary eyes she found the digital clock on the table near her bed. Six fifteen. The paper would be at her door, no doubt, and with it the answers to questions she refused to entertain the night before.

  But now in the light of day, there was no running from the facts. She would appear in court today along with Dayne and the rest of the team of lawyers and prosecutors, and whatever today’s news held would be common knowledge for everyone in the courtroom. Everyone in the country.

  God . . . go with me. Whatever the paper says, help me remember that my identity is in You alone.

  I am with you, precious daughter. Peace I give you.

  The words washed over her soul, and in the quiet of the hotel room they sounded almost audible. She smiled as she felt the familiar, otherworldly peace. No matter what happened today, nothing could take away the safety and certainty she carried within her.

  As she swung her feet over the edge of the bed, Dayne’s face came to mind, his face and his tender voice, his prayer from the night before.

  Lord, help Dayne remember the things he asked You last night. Let him know You’re working things out for us, please, God.

  There was no answer this time, but Katy smiled anyway. She stared at her hotel door and breathed in. This was it, her hour of reckoning. Dayne had told her that whatever the newspapers said, the story would be tame compared with the articles that were bound to show up early next week in the tabloids.

  She stood, opened the door, and picked up the copy of the Los Angeles Times lying just outside her room. Even with everything she’d been expecting, with Dayne’s warning and the prayer she’d just uttered, nothing could’ve prepared her for the picture on the front page.

  Just beneath the fold, a headline ran across the entire page: “Crazy Fan Lashes Out at Victim.” Below that a smaller headline read “Dayne Matthews’ Mystery Woman Revealed in First Day of Dramatic Testimony.” Three photos accompanied the story. The first two Katy would’ve expected. A stock headshot of Dayne, next to a close-up photo of Katy sitting in the courtroom during testimony.

  It was the third photo that made her start shaking there in the doorway. Somehow the Times had gotten hold of the paparazzi photo, the one taken the first night she was in town. The picture was of her and Dayne on the beach, the two of them caught in an embrace that left no doubt about the identity of either of them.

  Katy’s hands shook as she stepped back into the room and made her way to the edge of the bed. How in the world? The photographers must’ve sold the photo to everyone willing to pay—and the Times had clearly been willing. Beneath the photo a caption said, “Dayne Matthews embraces Katy Hart near his Malibu home Sunday night.”

  Katy let the paper fall to her lap. Great. The whole country was waking up to the reality that she and Dayne were involved in what? A tryst? A backstreet affair? Just one more wild night of reveling on the part of playboy Dayne Matthews? How could she ever face her CKT families now? She hugged herself and tried to ward off the pains in her stomach.

  She needed to read the story, but she wasn’t sure she could. God, where are You? Where’s the peace I felt earlier?

  She heard no words, no reassuring whispers. But the comfort from minutes ago returned. God was with her; she knew His peace was working its way into her soul even if she couldn’t feel it. She picked up the paper and tried to still her hands enough so she could make out the words.

  The article was fairly straightforward. It began with a recap of the day’s testimony. Katy scanned ahead and held her breath. Nothing, no mention of Christian Kids Theater. She felt her lungs start to work again. For now, anyway, at least that one detail was sacred.

  She found her place in the article and continued to read. Once the facts from the case were made clear, including the death threat by Margie Madden and the detail that attorneys for both sides had agreed to continue on with the trial, the article went into greater description about the background of the case.

  For months, tabloids have speculated about the identity of the young female victim with Dayne Matthews the night of the attack at Paradise Cove. When court proceedings convened Monday, Dayne Matthews’ attorney Joe Morris held a press conference on the steps of the courthouse and confirmed the identity of Katy Hart, an actress and theater director from Bloomington, Indiana.

  Katy’s stomach hurt more with every sentence. The next paragraph talked about the fact that Katy had been in town reading for the lead role opposite Dayne in his movie Dream On.

  The part was later given to A-list actress Kelly Parker, who was at the time and for the next several months romantically involved with Matthews.

  Next came the part that Ka
ty dreaded most.

  Attorney Morris said that Hart was not romantically involved with Matthews at the time of the attack at Paradise Cove. However, tabloid reports show that Matthews was caught on camera kissing a woman who resembled Hart just minutes before the attack.

  Lord, what am I going to do?

  Be still, and know that I am God.

  She closed her eyes and held on to that. It was a verse she’d read the night before her flight to Los Angeles. No matter how out of control things got she needed to remember that God was in control. He was in charge. Even now. She managed the slightest breath and kept reading.

  Morris also denied that Hart was the reason Matthews chose to film his location shots for Dream On in Bloomington, Indiana. He further said that the two are not currently romantically involved, despite a photo taken of Hart and Matthews Sunday night at Malibu Beach.

  “My client and Katy Hart are good friends,” Morris said. “Their relationship should be respected as such.” He refused to comment on the photo taken Sunday or speculation of a photo taken of the pair the night of the attack. Matthews was living with his costar Kelly Parker at the time of his location filming in Bloomington, Indiana.

  There the story came to a merciful end.

  The reporter didn’t say that Katy and Dayne were involved in a relationship while he was in Bloomington. It didn’t have to. The points were as easy to connect as a child’s puzzle. There was a picture of them kissing the night of the attack. He was in her hometown during his location filming, and there was a second picture of them embracing just days ago.

  The deduction for anyone reading the article was clear—of course they had been in a relationship. Because Katy’s identity had been left a mystery, the implications were that she and Dayne were together not only during the attack but ever since. And the conclusion most people would draw was that Katy had been sneaking around with Dayne even while he was living with Kelly Parker.