Touched by Angels Page 0,59

face had knit into a worried frown.

"I'm doing great," she told him quickly, perhaps too quickly, because she felt his close scrutiny. Smiling, just then, would have been impossible.

Trey moved closer to her by the railing. The wind hit against him. His arm came loosely around her shoulder, and, needing him, she pressed her head against his solid strength.

"There's something you should know," she said after dragging a deep breath through her lungs. She closed her eyes, unwilling to continue the pretense any longer. "I'm not what you think."

"Jenny - "

"No, please, let me finish." This was so much more difficult than she'd thought it would be. Trey had come all this way from Montana thinking she was a Broadway star. Either she told him herself or he'd learn it on his own.

A dozen times since his arrival she'd been tempted to blurt out the truth. It had held her prisoner, tortured her, and she couldn't stand the pressure any longer.

"I'm not starring in an Off Broadway production of South Pacific. I'm a waitress, a singing waitress. I lied, and I want you to know how very sorry I am." Her voice pitched and heaved with emotion as she hurried to get all the words out at once for fear she'd break down and weep.

The pressure of his arm around her increased slightly. "I realized that right away."

He knew and hadn't said anything.

"The first place I headed when I arrived in New York was the theater. I wanted to see you perform."

Jenny's throat constricted. "I'm so ashamed to have lied, but I had to tell my family something. It's been so long, and . . . you've got to believe I gave it my best shot, and now, well, now it seems I'm buried neck deep in the lie. Mom and Dad are so proud of me, and they've told everyone, and - "

"Come home, Jenny."

"No." Her response was automatic and sharp.

The brightness in Trey's eyes dimmed, and she turned away, unable to meet his gaze. It sounded as if he were eager to hear she'd failed. Glad of it. Well, she wasn't through yet. She was close, so close she could taste it. If John Peterman didn't want her for this play, then there were other parts, other producers. She wouldn't give up. She refused to turn her back when she was this close. Not even Trey could convince her to do that.

"I may not be the star I led everyone to believe," she told him stiffly, "but I'm an actress, and a damn talented one. I realize I've probably disappointed you, and I'm sorry for that, but I'm not willing to throw in the towel yet."

Trey didn't answer her, and the air between them was strained and tight.

"I shouldn't have asked it of you," he said as the boat neared Ellis Island.

It was as close to an apology as she was likely to get from Trey. She stepped away from him, letting the breeze whip against her face while she mulled over his words.

Trey stepped back, and she noticed the attention he generated with his tall, lean good looks. He was obviously out of place with his scuffed snakeskin boots and weather-beaten Stetson, yet he'd dressed in the height of fashion. Jenny knew more than one male model who would have given anything for that rawboned, natural look.

"Jenny," Trey said, coming to stand next to her, "I don't really think what you did was so terrible. Sure you stretched the truth a bit, but under the circumstances that's understandable."

"But hardly commendable."

Trey didn't agree or disagree. "What you did was burden yourself. It seems to me these New York theater people must have holes in their heads not to realize how talented you are."

This was what Jenny loved about home the most. When it came to talent, the good folks in Custer believed none had more than Jenny Lancaster.

"Those responsible for the theater in New York meet lots of talented men and women with big dreams and a lot of ambition. That was a difficult lesson for me to learn, and I suspect that in some ways I haven't completely accepted it. I'm good, Trey, and I know it, but there are any number of equally talented people just waiting for their big break, the same way as me."

The ferry docked and the passengers disembarked onto the island. Most everyone headed directly for the Ellis Island Immigration Museum.

"There's something I want you to see first," Jenny said, leading Trey