Behind the Shadows (40 page)

“Then it's over,” her mother said.

“Yes.”

“I'm so glad you're both okay.”

“Mom, she's a match. She wants to give you a kidney.”

“No!”

Kira had already prepared her speech. She'd prepared it ten days ago when she'd been tested.

“I never thought you were selfish,” she said.

“Don't try to play me,” her mother said. “I told you …”

“When I thought I might be able to give you a kidney, it was one of the happiest moments I've ever known. My worst day was when I discovered I couldn't. It's incredibly selfish of you to deny either of us that chance. It's particularly selfish with Leigh. She never knew you. She hasn't had a mother since she was six years old. No father, either. Are you going to let yourself die, never knowing her or allowing her to know you? It's not fair to her.”

A tear started down Katy's check. “It's
not
unfair. She's young. If anything happened to her remaining kidney …”

“Then we will find another one for her. She's going to be here in the morning, Mom. Don't break her heart.”

Her mother didn't answer, but Kira knew from her eyes she was at least reconsidering her position.

Kira leaned over and kissed her. “The nurses said I could only stay a moment. Just wanted to say I love you.”

They all met at the hospital early the next morning. The doctor had already looked over the results. “We need to do more testing on Ms. Howard, but it does seem we have a match.”

Leigh went into the room. Katy Douglas—her mother—was awake. Kira had already filled her in on the conversation she'd had with her—their—mother the night before.

Katy was sleeping. Leigh touched her hand, and Katy jerked awake, then focused on Leigh. She held out her hand. “I am so glad you're safe, you and Kira. I'm so happy you're friends.”

Leigh took it. It was so frail. It was her mother's. Her heart beat rapidly. She had a chance to save this woman's life. A sense of wonder spread through her.

She suddenly understood that all the guilt she felt all these years didn't belong to her. It belonged to mistakes other people made. As she looked around the room, she didn't feel the fear that had haunted her for so many years.

“You know I'm a match for a kidney.”

“Kira told me. I told her I didn't want it.”

“You're going to take away my chance to know my mother?” Leigh asked. “I barely remember my mother—oops, this gets messy, doesn't it? Anyway, I always longed for a mother, for a family. You'd be doing me no favors by taking that chance away from me.”

“You and … Kira conspired together,” Katy charged.

“Yes, and … we're formidable.”

Katy searched her face. “You're sure?”

“I've never been so sure of anything in my life.”

Katy smiled. It was a smile that melted Leigh's heart. Full of love and pride. The latter made her heart warm. She impulsively leaned down and kissed the woman on the bed. Not just a woman now. Her mother.

“I'll go out and tell Kira,” she said.

She left the room and went over to where Kira waited. “She'll sign the consent forms.”

The three of them—Chris, Max, and Kira—huddled together in the surgical waiting room awaiting news of the transplant. They had been there three hours.

Kira was restless. She'd never been good at waiting. Neither, apparently, was Max. He hadn't stopped pacing, or wandering down the hall, or getting coffee for them. He was not a still man. Chris, on the other hand, simply sat stoically. Years of police work, Kira thought.

She stood. Things had moved quickly once Leigh was found in good health and determined to be as perfect a match for her mother as anyone could be.

They'd both been wheeled into the operating room three hours ago.

It had been an incredibly busy few days. She'd written four stories so far on the events. Now she was working on a series about organ transplants.

With Leigh's support, Max was representing Mrs. Baker, who had been charged with accessory to murder. With the agreement of Max and Kira, Leigh planned to use trust money for bail when she was released from the hospital. Mrs. Baker wasn't a danger to the community. She'd started a string of actions that resulted in murder, but murder had never been her intent. And Kira suspected that Rick hadn't needed that kick. That he'd just been waiting for an opportunity.

But in the days since the shooting, the explosive lovemaking between Kira and Max hadn't been repeated. It was as if Max had looked into an abyss and backed away. Maybe he still worried that she would take Leigh's inheritance, although she had absolutely no interest in it. She hadn't earned it, and it was tainted by generations of tragedy. She had what she wanted. A kidney. Her mother back.

“It won't be long now,” Max said as he held out yet another cup of coffee.

But it was. Probably another hour. And her anxiety deepened. What if there were complications? What if the kidney didn't take? What if …

She looked up, and Max's eyes were on her. They were expressionless, just as they had been when they first met. She didn't even want to think what emotion her eyes held. Hurt. Anger. He'd awakened something in her, given her a hint of what they could have, and now seemed to be withdrawing away.

“Let's go for a walk,” he said.

“I don't want to leave …”

“Chris will get us.” Chris had gone from being Burke to Chris in the past several days. He'd worked on Mrs. Baker's case and felt as they did—that a prison term wouldn't do anyone any good.

Kira didn't want to go with him. She was glad he was here. No, her body was excited that he was here. It was acting in irresponsible ways. It was her brain that was trying to be responsible, that warned her that she'd known from the beginning that he would be short-term. She didn't want to trust him with her emotions again.

But he took her arm and guided her out, and she didn't want to make a scene. Not now. Not here.

He led her down a hall to a small room. She suspected he'd scouted ahead. She'd discovered he was always prepared. Once inside, he closed the door.

“I've tried to stay away from you,” he said. “I can't. But you have to know everything about me. It will probably come out eventually, and I don't want you touched by it.”

“Touched by what?”

“Payton isn't my real name. I legally changed it when I was twenty-one Ed Westerfield helped me do it.”

She didn't ask why. He was about to tell her. Her breath caught in her throat.

“I was Joe. Joe Cantwell. The name probably doesn't mean much to you, but it was all over the newspapers years ago. I killed my dad. Some police officers thought I killed my mother as well.”

The floor started to fall under her. “Was that what pointed the police toward you?” she asked. She hoped her voice didn't tremble as much as she feared it did.

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“I was ten. My dad was beating the hell out of my mother. He turned on me, and Mom hit him with an iron. He took out a knife and stabbed her. I grabbed his gun and shot him.” He said the words coolly. Dispassionately. As if it had happened to someone else.

She hurt for him. Desperately. For him. For that boy all those years ago.

She waited for him to continue.

“My father had a long, violent record, and I had a juvenile one. He would disappear for weeks, leaving us without food or money. I would sometimes lift a package of hotdogs or a box of cereal. I was caught twice.”

“You were only ten.”

“Yeah, but my mom died, and no one wanted me. I was a troublemaker. I was put in a group home. Then a series of foster homes, each one worse than the last. At sixteen, I ran away. Lived on the streets, then a streetwise con told me how to get a new identity. Max Payton. It sounded like class to me.

“By then I discovered I didn't want to be a petty thief. Or drug dealer. I found a job as a janitor at Westerfield Industries, went to night school, and got my GED. Ed discovered me reading when I should have been scrubbing floors. Instead of firing me, he took me under his wing.”

“I think he got a good deal on his investment,” she said, her voice trembling.

“If it becomes public … Westerfield attorney murdered father.”

“I don't care about that. You were a kid.”

“There's another reason,” he said quietly. “I come from a long line of abusers. My dad. His father. From what I hear beyond that. It seems it's passed on from father to son.”

“Not always. Not even usually,” she said. “I've done some articles on it.” She peered up at him. “Is that why you never married?”

He shrugged. “I never met anyone I really wanted to share my life with. Until now.”

“And now you want to scare me away?”

He smiled then. “No. But you had to know.”

“Why now?”

“I was going to wait until after the surgery, but I want you to … know that I'm here for you. If you still want me.”

That was like asking her if she wanted the moon and stars. She'd always been attracted to him. More than attracted. But now she admired him more than ever. She reached up and kissed him, long and hard. “I want,” she said simply.

A knock at the door interrupted his reply.

Chris opened it, looked from one to the other. “Glad you guys got things straightened out. You both have been looking like hell.”

“Is there news?”

“Both came through just great,” Chris said with a grin.

Max put his arm around her shoulders. “Let's go see our family.”

She looked up at him and blinked. A few weeks ago she had a dying mother. No one else in the world. Now her mother would be with her for a long time. And she had a sister. Of sorts. Probably a brother-in-law of sorts, too.

And Max.

She wrapped her hand in his. “Let's go do that,” she said.

Epilogue

NINE MONTHS LATER

Kira Douglas Payton stood hand in hand with Max as they watched the sign go up over the driveway into the Westerfield estate.

Westerfield Riding Camp, it read. The sign itself was made of wood with the words burned into it.

Kira smiled at Leigh, who stood in front of the sign, studying it from every angle before nodding her head.

The sign had taken the place of the forbidding gate that once regulated visitors. Now it welcomed them.

The camp would officially open in two weeks. It would offer day classes during much of the year and a weeklong camp experience during the summer, mostly for kids with disabilities. The Westerfield trust financed the expansion of the stables and renovation of the big house. The first floor had been transformed into rooms for the kids, as well as a kitchen, dining room, and physical therapy rooms. Katy Douglas had a suite of rooms above with her own kitchen. She'd claimed the title of House Mother.

The trust also would provide funds for staff as well as scholarships for kids who couldn't afford the experience.

After the sign was up properly, the small group of attendees trooped inside Max's house for lunch.

Congressman Seth Westerfield turned to Leigh. “Good job, Cous. But you should have let me notify the media.”

“I think we've had enough publicity, thank you,” Leigh said wryly.

Seth shrugged. “But this is
good
publicity.”

“No,” Leigh said sternly, then glanced at Kira.

Warmth filled Kira as her fingers tightened around Max's. Leigh's confidence had grown noticeably in the past months, and never more so than the day four weeks earlier when she'd married Chris, three months after Kira had wed Max.

Chris smiled down at his new wife. He hadn't stopped smiling in the past months. The grief in his eyes had faded, though Kira knew Risa would always hold a place in his heart.

The relationship hadn't been easy for Leigh in the beginning. It was hard for her to trust, to believe that he wouldn't come to hate her scars, both physical and emotional. Leigh had surmounted far more obstacles than Kira. And now they were like sisters, the sister each had always wanted but never had.

Mrs. Baker was an invisible presence. She had been invited but declined. The prosecution had decided not to press charges after hearing all the facts, and she'd retired to her cottage.

Kira's mother came into the room carrying a large casserole she'd made earlier, along with a bowl of salad. Max opened a bottle of champagne and another of sparkling cider. He poured the contents into flutes, then raised his own glass. “To Leigh's dream.”

Kira took a sip and looked around. David and his wife were there. He raised his glass but his eyes were somber. His father had flown back after receiving a telegram about the events. He'd confessed to all of them that he'd been responsible for the switch.

It had been a momentary decision that had haunted him the rest of his life. His cousin, Karen, had already had three miscarriages and this had been a risky pregnancy. Michael had always loved Karen, and when he saw that her child had what he believed was a fatal illness and would live no longer than a few days, he made the decision to switch the child with one born at the same time to a very young girl who had no money and whose husband obviously didn't want a child.

The young mother—Katy Douglas—would have other opportunities. His cousin wouldn't. He made sure Katy Douglas and the ill baby had the best medical care possible, and he paid the costs.

When Karen and her husband died and Leigh was so badly injured, he stayed to make sure she had the best care, then joined Doctors Without Borders. He'd thought then about confessing his action, but he feared he would make everything worse.

Kira and Max, Leigh and Chris held a meeting. They'd already informed a grateful hospital administration they had no intention of suing. They didn't need the money, and it would hurt the hospital's spiraling insurance costs. They decided to let everyone to believe the switch was an accident rather than drag the Westerfield name through the papers for months, maybe years.