40

Despite Carolyn Hawley’s carefully planned glass-jaw approach, the media story was not easily clamped down.

In addition to local outlets, the media-created scandal made the front pages of the Dallas Morning News and the Houston Chronicle, including several photographs of Nate and Leta together. The thought that cameramen were hiding and watching them completely creeped her out.

Pundits on the popular Inside Texas Politics broadcast out of Dallas debated whether or not a man who traded girlfriends so quickly could just as easily flip-flop on important issues like immigration and economic commitments important to the state. Did the fact he so carefully kept his key relationships hidden mean he was hiding other matters Texas voters cared about? And what kind of first lady would an uneducated grocery store clerk make? Could Leta Breckenridge even understand the issues and speak intelligently in front of the cameras?

Everyone seemed to have an opinion and felt free to share.

Sadly, the story had hit at a time when there were no other dramatic stories to fuel ratings, and the networks milked this one for everything—and more.

The story headlined every news program for nearly a three-day news cycle, and even then there were no signs of the story dying down.

The inability to shift focus left everyone a bit testy, none more than Nathan.

Leta knew none of this could happen at a worse time than when he needed to have a clear mind to prepare for the debate.

“Don’t forget to smile,” Janesa admonished. “You don’t want to appear angry in front of the cameras. Especially when you’re talking about compassion for immigrants contrasted with the need for reform.”

“I know.” Nate immediately seemed to regret his sharp response. “Look, I’m sorry. Maybe we’d better take a break.”

Leta made her way to his side. “You okay? Want to go for a walk or something?”

“And have cameras flashing the minute we step outside these doors? No thanks.”

She followed him down the hall. “Are you mad at me?”

Nate stopped and turned. “What? No, baby. No. I’m not mad at anyone. Just frustrated, that’s all.” As if to punctuate his proclamation, he slipped his hand into her own and squeezed.

She squeezed back. “I’m not an expert here when it comes to campaigning, but it seems to me we did everything we could to adequately respond to this mess. Your mom hired the best crisis management firm money could buy. Carolyn Hawley came up with a brilliant strategy. We can’t control the public’s lust for gossip. That’s all this is, really.”

They went into his office, and he closed the door. “Gossip that has the power to hurt a lot of people.”

She buried her head against his chest. “My mother used to tell me if you did the right thing, God would do the rest. I think all we can do now is believe that will be true.”

Nate kissed the top of her head. He circled his desk and sank into his chair. “I just can’t help feeling like I made a severe miscalculation and let a lot of people down—including you.”

Leta took a deep breath. “Look, Nate. I really need to say something. Something I believe you desperately need to hear—especially before you head in front of those cameras tomorrow night.” She paused and let her words sink in. “Listen to me. The world does not rest upon your shoulders. There is no finer man with any more integrity than you, Nate. You’ve offered voters a choice, an opportunity for change. If the majority of the electorate fails to get that, if instead the masses choose to believe slimy charlatans who hire people like Bernard Geisler to assure a win, using any level of dirty tactics—if that ends up being the case—frankly, the people of Texas get what they deserve.”

Surprisingly, Nathan said nothing. Instead he stared out the window.

“You stood in front of those cameras and said what was on your heart. You explained your relationship with Tiffany, and me. How love doesn’t always play by tidy rules.”

His eyes filled with emotion. “Leta Breckenridge, you are a remarkable woman. I want you to know that if I could turn back the clock, I would choose to fall in love with you all over again.”

She moved into his arms. “What? You’ve fallen in love with me? I don’t think I got the press release,” she teased.

Nate traced her jawline with his finger. “It’s not a talking point, Leta. I knew very early that you were special. I love you.”

Her heart pounded with emotion. She was on the verge of telling him she loved him as well, but a knock on the door interrupted. Still, she couldn’t let the moment pass, so she mouthed the words.

He smiled.

Nathan Emerson loved her.

She felt like a schoolgirl who had gotten a valentine from the most popular kid in class. No matter how many years they had ahead, she would never forget the tiny thrills chasing up and down her spine, how her palms had turned sweaty when he said those words. How no amount of media hullabaloo could shrink her euphoria.

He loved her.

Leta hummed as she made her way to the entrance of Heritage House. She couldn’t wait to tell her mom, even if she couldn’t really comprehend the meaning of the news.

A siren in the distance grew closer, more insistent.

Leta glanced around, saw nothing. She shrugged and scurried up the steps and through the front door, and immediately into a scene of controlled chaos.

Lucy nearly knocked her over as she passed by and ran for the door. “I see them. They’re coming!” She opened the doors and waved.

“What’s going on?” Leta asked, alarmed.

An ambulance pulled into the parking lot and slammed to a stop under the front portico, the revolving blue lights and dwindling siren casting an eerie sense of distress.

“They’re here,” Lucy announced. She raced to the door and called out to the EMTs, “Hurry, this way!”

Leta took in the emergency scene. “What—who is it?”

Behind her, two EMTs pushing a gurney blasted into the front lobby.

A look of relief passed over Penny Murdock’s face as she tossed her clipboard on the receptionist’s counter. “Okay, everybody. Stand back!”

Lucy quit wringing her hands and pointed to the bank of elevators. “Room 5C, fourth floor.”

Leta’s head jerked up. “That’s Mom’s room.”

Without another word, she dashed after them, ignoring that Penny Murdock called out her name. Her hands slammed against the elevator doors as they closed behind the EMTs. Frantic, she looked around and sprinted for the door leading to the stairwell.

Taking the stairs two at a time, she rushed up several floors until she hit the fourth level. Winded, she struggled to open the thick, heavy metal door and then raced down the shiny tiles to her mom’s room just as the EMTs wheeled the gurney inside.

“Mom!” Leta cried, racing for the door.

One of the EMTs stopped her. “You’ll have to wait here.”

“But that’s my momma!” She pushed forward.

At the same moment, Penny Murdock exited one of the elevators with Lucy close behind. “Honey, it’s not your momma,” Lucy assured her. “It’s her roommate, Mrs. Hunt.”

Leta’s hand went to her mouth, emotion washing over her. For a minute, she thought she might be physically sick with relief.

Thank you, Jesus.

When the EMTs finally wheeled Mrs. Hunt out into the hall, Leta quickly brushed past them and made her way inside the room. Her mother sat in her chair, staring blankly at the muted television screen. She gently rocked back and forth, seemingly unaware of all the excitement happening around her.

Leta knew from all the literature and websites she’d studied that this was a sign her mother’s disease was advancing, her mental state deteriorating. Even so, Leta felt nothing but the need to wrap the older woman in her arms.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sank to her knees and buried her head in her momma’s lap.

If not today, someday that scene would play out and it could easily be her mother. The thought terrorized her.

Her mother’s hands sifted through her hair. Leta didn’t move, savoring the feel and remembering what life used to be like, when her mom could communicate and comfort her.

She hated dementia.

Perhaps it was too late for her own mom, but she couldn’t help but pray that Nate won this election. As governor, he would make sure more studies and programs were funded to counter this horrible affliction, which was critical as funding options became more limited in the current economy.

How long before her mother dribbled from her mouth, had trouble swallowing and even breathing? Someday her brain function would simply give out—and the end would come.

Until then, she intended to cherish every moment of the time she did have with her mom.

Leta stood and gently took her momma’s hand in her own. “Hey, Mom,” she whispered against her ear. “I brought your glass slippers. You want to dance?”