Whispered Surrender Read online

  “Where are we going?” she whispered over the panic rising inside her.

  “Table five.”

  Table five. That had to be one of those ringing the dance floor.

  “Is there something wrong?” Abby asked. “Where is table five?”

  He smiled broadly. “Why it’s the best table in the house, Ms. Granger. Right in the path of Cupid’s arrow.”

  Abby knew she wasn’t the type to swoon when the going got tough. Still her knees began to tremble, and a topsy-turvy feeling roiled up inside her. Who would do this to me? Her mind reeled and settled on the one person who wanted to send a strong message—Jordan Ito.

  “Excuse me, miss.” A waiter carrying a heavy metal tray stood behind her. He nodded toward a table where soiled dinnerware still remained.

  She stepped aside and tried to grapple with her alternatives. Already guests were returning to the dining room after the break. Out the corner of her eyes, she saw Brett and his mother huddled over a clipboard. They stood less than thirty feet away.

  Abby sank into a chair at the special table. To her relief, the wait staff had not lighted the tapers in the candelabrum. While Cupid’s arrow headed straight at her, the drape provided enough cover that if the lights stayed low, and her luck held, no one might notice her. Better still, she remembered a hallway that led to one of the exits while she struggled with the arrangement. At the conclusion of the program, she’d duck around the draped partition and head out the back way. Somewhere she’d find a phone and this dreadful night would finally be over.

  At exactly nine o’clock, Brett ascended the stage and took the mic. What could have been long dull speeches went quickly. Each speaker thanked the committee and their colleagues, accepted their plaques and returned to their seats.

  Brett looked out at the crowd and smiled. “In a moment, the orchestra will begin playing for your dancing pleasure and all the bars will open again. This is your evening and we want you to enjoy yourselves. However, we have one last bit of news we’ve all been waiting for, a short report from the committee and a chance to formally pat yourselves on the back for your generosity. Please join me in showing our appreciation for this year’s Gala Chair and her committee. I’m very proud to introduce a woman who needs no introduction, my mother, Lauren Kincade.”

  Lauren rose from her chair to thundering applause. She glowed, faced the crowd and applauded them in return. Brett met her at the steps to the stage and escorted her across the room. She looked like an angel dressed in a floor length, long-sleeved white gown and a three string choker of bright red crystals. In her blonde hair, she wore a red rose.

  “Thanks, sweetheart.” She caressed her son’s cheek then turned a page on her clipboard. “This has been a year-long journey,” she began after she introduced her committee members and quickly summarized some of the goals they’d set at their first meeting.

  “Our goal was to double the $250,000.00 raised by last year’s committee.”

  Abby saw the people at the table ringside lean in.

  “At three o’clock this afternoon, we did a final audit of all receipts. We were thrilled by the generosity of the citizens of Seaside, but saddened because we’d fallen a little more than $50,000.00 short of our goal.” Lauren turned to Brett and held out her hand. He shook his head and backed a few steps farther out of the spotlight.

  “My son, whom most of you have known all of his life, had questioned our judgment in setting such a high goal. He wrote the first check and said that if we made it, he’d stand up on this stage in front of all of you and do the tango.”

  That brought a hearty round of hoots, laughter and applause from the audience.

  “Beau and I had always congratulated ourselves on raising two very bright children,” Lauren began again. “But somewhere along the way something went off track, because this afternoon, even when he knew he was off the hook as a tango dancer, my son once again took out his checkbook. At this time, I am so proud to announce that we have not only reached that half-million dollar mark, we exceeded it. And tonight, with our committee’s thanks to all of you, and with our gratitude to the health care providers and caregivers at Seaside Memorial, we are pleased to present to Dr. Johnson a check for five-hundred thousand dollars and twenty-five cents!”

  Abby wiped tears from her eyes watching Lauren blow a handful of kisses to the audience while her grandchildren carried a six-foot replica of a half-million dollar check on stage for presentation to Dr. Johnson, the unit’s head.

  The audience rose to its feet, Abby along with them. In her mind, she clearly heard Judy’s words from last night, “Family’s everything to him.”

  “We’ve presented our plaques, we’ve made our speeches. Before the orchestra starts playing again, I’ll ask your indulgence for a bit of comic relief.” She turned to Brett.

  From her vantage point, Abby saw a genuinely puzzled look on Brett’s face.

  Lauren faced the audience again and shrugged. “Apparently my son’s forgotten the promise he made.” She turned to Brett and once again held out her hand. This time he walked slowly to her side, shaking his head. “A bet’s a bet,” she said. “The ball’s in your court, son,” and to the orchestra’s leader, “Maestro, strike up the band!”

  Lauren Kincade left the stage amid gales of laughter and applause. Brett stood at the podium, looking as if he hadn’t a clue about what do next—until the orchestra began playing up the opening bars of Hernando’s Hideaway.

  At that, Brett smiled broadly and waved them into silence.

  “We have a problem,” he said into the mic. “My sister Melanie has always been my dance partner.”

  Melanie blew him a kiss from the ringside table and patted her protruding tummy. “But with her due date only a couple of weeks away, I don’t think she wants to try that tonight.” He unhooked the mic and began walking the length of the stage and back. “I wonder if there’s another young lady present who might want to have her toes stepped on by a flat-footed ex-jock.”

  Abby had to look away. She couldn’t bear to watch Brett take Jordan in his arms and dance what should have been their dance.

  The house lights went down, and the spot that had highlighted each table during the unmasking ritual, shone only on Brett. “Oh, I think I’ve found her.”

  Abby dared to open one eye and to her enormous surprise, Brett hadn’t taken Jordan’s hand and brought her up on stage. Instead he was walking straight to table five.

  Abby’s jaw dropped. He stood in front of her holding out his hand and asking in that sweet potato pie southern drawl he used the morning they met. “Miz Lily Granger, would you do me the honor of partnering with me for this dance?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Without hesitation, Abby slid her hand into Brett’s. His touch felt warm and soft and safe. With a rush of both relief and excitement, she walked alongside him to center stage where she pressed against him in the classic tango embrace. Brett nodded to the conductor, and as they had on Wednesday evening at Whispers, the first notes of Kiss of Fire filled the ballroom.

  Abby didn’t know if they danced for two minutes or ten. Whether they stayed on the stage or soared over the rooftops among the stars. She was in Brett’s arms. That’s all that mattered. She’d seen something in his eyes when he held out his hand to her, something that sent tiny shivers of hope and anticipation far beyond a dance.

  Too soon it ended. He spun her gently away so that they both faced the appreciative audience and bowed. Some shouted “Bravo!” Others, “Encore!” They applauded each other as well and once again their audience.

  Abby’s heart roared inside her chest until she thought it might burst. She stood in a spotlight, surrounded by strangers who seemed more like lifelong friends, in the arms of the man she loved. At the same time, they stood alone, oblivious to the buzz and racket going on around them.

  Still holding Brett’s hand, Abby followed him to the podium where he gathered up the portable mic. She also noticed that only Jordan s
at at the table where Brett and his family had only minutes ago. That is Jordan and one of the most handsome Asian-American men Abby had ever seen. They sat with their chairs touching, and with his arm draped across the back of her chair while his fingertips caressed her shoulder. Jordan even smiled at her, and this time her smile looked sincere.

  Abby smiled back until another movement caught her eye, off to her right. The Austrian drape in the panel behind her seat had begun to rise.

  Oh my god!

  It had been no more than a few seconds since their dance ended. Now everything was happening so quickly, she wasn’t sure what was real and what was mirage.

  As automatically as if she’d been doing it all of her life, she turned to Brett to find the answers. He grinned at her, amusement twinkling in his blue eyes.

  “Hang on, sweetheart, this is just the beginning.”

  With everyone seated and the ballroom quieted to a low buzz, Brett began, “I know we’re here tonight to honor the staff of the Cardiac Care Unit and to thank all of you for your caring and generosity.” He grinned. “But you know us Kincades. We’re the bunch who takes a mile when someone gives us that proverbial inch.”

  Although cooled to a comfortable temperature, the room exuded warmth that came from the hearts of the people. Abby saw deep affection in their faces and smiles. The Kincades gave their all to Seaside, and tonight she saw that Seaside returned their love. She’d grown up on military bases, where friendships and bonds were formed in good times and bad. Tonight she saw that same kinship.

  “I’ve known most of you my entire life. You’ve been there when I’ve been up and when I’ve been down. And tonight I want to share something very special with you.”

  Even while her mind reeled on emotional overload, Abby saw Brett held the audience in the palm of his hand. “First, I want to introduce my beautiful tango partner.”

  When he smiled at her, she melted but how she wished he’d stop talking and kiss her instead. Friends were fine, but seven-hundred-fifty-plus at one time stretched her definition of intimacy.

  “She’s Abby Horton now, but most of you know her as Rose Granger’s niece, Lily Granger.”

  He released Abby and swept his arm toward Cupid’s table.

  In the time Abby had left her seat and climbed onto the stage, someone had lighted the tapers in the candelabrum and trained a second spot on the table. The roses and stephanotis looked as fresh as if they’d been hanging only a few seconds, with Cupid’s arrow glittering in the light of the spot.

  Two rows of chairs now stood where the Austrian drape had hung. In the back row, Abby saw her Aunt Rose, who wriggled her fingers and beamed a smile that could have lighted up the room. When had she returned from Rio?

  Rose waved to her friends and sat down again alongside a woman who looked oddly familiar. It took Abby a moment to realize where she’d met her. It was Madame Duvalier, the woman Judy and Ronn had described as Rose’s archenemy.

  Oh my. Judy and Ronn, decked out in gala finery, sat beside the French designer.

  In the front row, Abby saw Beau and Lauren. Seated to their left, Brett’s sister and her family, and to their right, the biggest surprise of all, Abby’s parents.

  In his dress blues with a chest full of ribbons and medals, her father, Sgt. Major Joseph Granger, sat tall, straight, and smiling the smile that always warmed Abby’s heart, the one that said, “I love you, gal.” Next to him, with her arm looped through his, and dressed with her usual understated elegance, Janine Granger dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief.

  For two days, Abby had fought tears, doubts and misgivings. Now she let her tears fall freely. Not from heartbreak, but from joy and love.

  She knew Brett must have sensed the emotions coming at her from so many directions. He slipped his arm around her waist. If he hadn’t, she might have flown away. She had no idea how he’d orchestrated this. Every moment they shared together, he surprised her more. She only dared dream and hope what other surprises still lay ahead for her—for them.

  “Okay, a little memory test,” Brett said to the crowd. “Show of hands. How many of you remember The BIG Storm?”

  Abby looked out at a sea of raised hands. No one had forgotten it.

  “It happened on a Friday, May third. My senior year at Seaside, football season long over, and as far as I was concerned, so was my high school career.” He looked over Abby’s head at Beau. “Sorry, Dad, I cannot tell a lie—I cut class almost every day.”

  “You think I didn’t know that?” Beau laughed and nudged Abby’s father with a friendly elbow.

  “I was throwing a few hoops in the gym when suddenly I heard a roar I never want to hear again. A storm had been predicted for a couple of days, but this wasn’t lightning and thunder. This sounded like a locomotive headed straight at me.” He swallowed hard. Abby knew exactly what he was thinking. She was reliving the terror too.

  “I think I hurled the basketball in the direction of the roar and took off running. Got about ten feet from the door and almost crashed into this skinny little girl who was just standing there. It took me a second to realize she was so scared she couldn’t move. The roar got louder and closer. By then, I knew it was a tornado and that we had only a second or two to find shelter. Instinctively, I just ran right at her, grabbed her and rolled under the bleachers. A second later all hell broke loose.”

  Dizziness swam through her head as all her emotions battled with each other. She’d told him her first name in the darkness, but she’d never known his. It had been Brett in the gym with her during the storm. All these years, she’d dreamed of finding the one who had saved her life so long ago. Now he was here, holding her hand in a firm grip.

  “I’ll never understand how we were spared,” Brett said. “Looking back, the bleachers were probably the worst place to run and hide. Especially after the roof collapsed. The bleachers were trashed, twisted and broken all around us, but by some miracle we were still alive.” He looked down at Abby and smiled. She saw so many things in his eyes, so many memories they’d shared.

  “The good news is that about three hours later someone figured out we were missing and came looking for us. Electrical lines were down everywhere, making it one of the darkest nights ever when they pulled us out of what was left of the gym. We were bruised and still pretty darned scared, but like everyone else at the scene, astonished that we walked away from it.”

  Brett slid his hand along Abby’s arm and pulled her close to him. She’d never told anyone what happened during those hours.

  “I know this will come as a shock to you,” Brett continued, “but in those days, I was a pretty cocky guy.” He laughed, and everyone laughed with him. Everyone but Abby.

  “Once the twister had moved on, I realized that my left arm and my leg were caught under a part of one of the bleacher benches. I was sure they were broken, or worse that when someone found us, I’d be paralyzed. What would happen if I could never run or throw again? I was due in South Bend to start practice in two weeks. There was a Heisman in my future—my dad had told me that all of my life. And an NFL contract. And there I was, caught under a piece of wood all because some skinny little girl had blocked my way out of the gym. I remember I was scared and furious, and I couldn’t feel my leg. How could this have happened to me? I was Brett Kincade, for god’s sake, and bad things didn’t happen to Brett Kincade. They happened to other people.”

  Abby remembered those moments as if they’d happened yesterday. The room had fallen silent.

  “Then this skinny little voice from that skinny little girl said, ‘Don’t be scared. I’m pretty strong and I earned a merit badge in first aid. You’re going to be okay.’ I realized then I was crying, bawling like…like a girl…and she was there telling me to be strong. That she’d make sure I was okay.”

  For a moment, Abby regretted that the cameras were trained on them and their giant-sized reflections projected onto the three screens. But Brett didn’t seem to mind that a tear rolled down hi
s cheek. He swiped it away and continued.

  “Talk about a ‘gotcha’ moment. That was mine. True to her word, that girl was stronger than she looked and in about ten minutes, she’d managed to free my arm so we could move the lumber aside without bringing down the rest of the bleachers.

  “Obviously, I hadn’t broken any bones, but I’d sure had a ‘come to Jesus’ that day. At about ninety pounds soaking wet, she was twice the hero I’d ever been or would ever be. I’d accomplished a lot on a football field but not so much in the humility and humanity departments.” He rubbed her arm and pulled her even closer.

  “For the next three hours, we held onto each other. Part of the time we prayed and hoped for someone to come looking for us. The rest of the time, we truly shared the secrets of our souls. Not before that day or since have I ever spoken to another girl or woman like that. Maybe it was the darkness that hid our faces, or the idea that at any moment something could happen and we’d be gone.”

  Abby slipped her arm around him. The memories were still so fresh and brutal.

  “I knew only her first name and that she was a freshman. But I also knew by the time the rescue workers pulled us out of the rubble, that I’d found my soul mate.” He looked up and laughed. “I remember wanting to kiss her so badly before the ambulances took us away, but I was afraid to, afraid I might scare her away from wanting to see me again.” He looked back at her and whispered, “As much as I want to kiss you now.”

  As much as she wanted him to kiss her.

  “I remember thinking, I have to get her number or find out where she lives, but the television stations had sent crews over to film the big football hero’s rescue, along with about a hundred other people, all pushing and shoving, wanting to make sure I was okay. No one even looked twice at her. The last time I saw her, she was walking away, alone.”