“There you are.” Adam’s arms came around her from behind, and he turned her to face him. “I’ve been watching for you all night, wondering if you’d decided not to come.”
He looked more handsome, more alive than she’d ever seen him. His dark blue suit, white shirt and red tie hit just the right patriotic note. “Of course I came. What’s the news?”
“Exit polls have me ahead by six percent.” His wonderful smile broke over her. “Is that g-great, or what?”
Phoebe threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “Terrific,” she lied. “I’m so proud of you.”
“P-proud of us all.” He managed to swing her off her feet, even in the crowd. “Our command center’s over here—we’ve got food and drinks. Come on.”
Insanity reigned as they were swept up in election-night fever. Adam’s crowd cheered each time new numbers appeared on the results board, scoring another precinct in his favor. By eleven o’clock, his victory was all but assured.
At midnight, the crowd hushed as Curtis Tate appeared behind the microphone on stage. Kellie stood at his shoulder, her face stiff and marred by tears.
“I am here to concede the race for mayor,” Curtis said, his voice shaky. “I congratulate Mr. DeVries on running a successful campaign with dignity and honor. And I thank all the citizens of New Skye for allowing me the opportunity to serve them. I hope that I can find a new venue of public service in the very near future.” Deafening applause greeted his statement, both from his supporters and from Adam’s crew. The former mayor raised his hand for silence. “I would like to thank my campaign staff for their heroic efforts on my behalf. My wife, Kellie, deserves a great deal of credit for…for supporting me in my campaign and in my work for the city.” Kellie smiled, her fingers playing with the flashing necklace at her throat.
“Finally, I would like to thank my good friend L. T. LaRue, who has stood by me for many years. His advice and support have been…invaluable. L.T., come up here.” LaRue joined the mayor on the stage and the two men hugged, patting each other on the back. Tate turned to the microphone one last time. “Y’all enjoy the party, now. Hear?”
At that moment, the ceiling full of balloons dropped onto the heads of the crowd and an evening that had been wild exploded into frenzy. Adam had intended to make his acceptance speech, but after watching the chaos, he turned to Phoebe with a grin and a shrug. “Later, maybe. How about some champagne?”
They toasted his staff and all the people who had helped pursue the campaign. The barbecue cook from the Labor Day rally had come to the party, along with those who had stuffed envelopes, posted signs and made telephone calls. Dixon and Kate were there for hugs and handshakes.
“Good job,” Dixon shouted at Adam. “You’re gonna be a great mayor.”
Kate kissed Phoebe’s cheek. “Are you all right?” she said directly into Phoebe’s ear. “You look pale.”
“Just tired. Call me this week so I can see your honeymoon pictures.” Phoebe escaped with evasion and a smile, only to run right into Mary Rose and her husband, Pete. More questions, more hugs, more celebration. Miss LuAnn Taylor was there, along with Daisy Crawford and Judge Taylor, but the pandemonium made any real conversation impossible.
Finally, just when Phoebe thought her head would explode from the noise, Adam leaned close.
“I’m going to commandeer the mike. Then we can get away for a while—I’ve got some rooms upstairs.”
She nodded gratefully and gladly followed him as he wove his way through the throng, stopping every stride or two to receive congratulations from people who had never thought he would actually win.
He kept hold of her hand and drew her with him onto the stage, with Tommy following them. The noise decreased as the crowd caught sight of them, enough that Adam could be heard when he spoke.
“I want to hold with tradition and accept Mayor Tate’s g-gracious c-concession of the election.” Raising his hand, he quieted the cheers. “I am honored and humbled by the c-confidence of the p-people of N-New Skye in choosing me as their next mayor, and I p-pledge to do everything within my p-power to see that our government operates honestly, morally and responsibly.
“Before I leave you to your celebration, I have thanks of my own to offer. This victory, this opportunity, would not have been p-possible without the energy and dedication—not to mention the sheer c-cussedness—of my friend and campaign manager, Tommy Crawford.” Adam motioned Tommy to stand with him and take a bow. “Many, many p-people helped us in this effort, and I can’t name them all right now, but you know who you are and you have my d-deepest g-gratitude.”
As Tommy waved to the crowd and stepped back, Adam continued. “I also want to thank my family f-for p-putting up with me all these years. My brother, Tim, and my sister, Theresa.” He looked down at Tim and Theresa in the front row next to the stage…and then paused. Between Adam’s brother and sister stood his father. “And-and my d-dad, who’s here tonight. Y’all come up on the stage.” The three members of the DeVries family climbed the steps and there were hugs all around. Preston DeVries stood beside Phoebe, wearing a red, white and blue sticker that read I voted for honest government. I voted for DeVries. His smile was teary and proud.
“Finally, I want to acknowledge before all of you how much I owe to the woman beside me, the woman who sacrificed more than any of us will ever understand to make tonight a reality.” There on the stage, Adam turned away from the microphone and took her in his arms. “Words aren’t adequate to say what I feel.” His whisper was for her alone. “Will you marry me, Phoebe? Let me spend the rest of my life showing you how grateful I am for everything you are?”
She couldn’t answer, not in front of all of these people, with camera flashes blinding her and the roar of applause stopping her ears. So she smiled and hugged him, and waved to the crowd like a good campaigner should.
And put off the end for a few more minutes, at least.
TOMMY UNLOCKED THE DOOR to his hotel room around 3:00 a.m. He let Sam step in ahead of him, hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the knob and shut the world outside. Then he walked to the bed and dropped facedown, spread-eagled on the mattress.
In another moment, Sam had eased off his suit jacket and somehow, without making him move, managed to remove his tie. His shoes dropped with a thump on the floor. By the rustle of cloth, he deduced that she’d taken off some…all?…of her own suit.
“Damn,” he said with a groan, “I’m too tired to roll over and look at you.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll get there.” The bed dipped, and she knelt beside him. “First, I’m gonna get you to relax.”
Her hands took hold of his shoulders, and Tommy groaned again. Muscles that had been knotted for months started to uncoil beneath her persuasive fingers. His neck resembled a tree trunk, until Sam used her knuckles like twin rolling pins. By the time she’d reached the base of his spine, he thought he might actually survive the night.
Until she made love to him, that is, and destroyed him all over again.
“You are incredible,” he murmured finally, unable to do more than kiss her hand as he held it between his own. “What do I have to do to keep you around?”
“Show up at the right time, at the right place, with a ring in your pocket and a promise you’re willing to make.”
Tommy pushed himself up on an elbow and looked down into her sassy, vulnerable face. “That’s all, huh? A ring and a promise?”
“Too much to ask?”
He dropped back against the pillow and pulled her closer into his arms. “Nah. I can handle it. Just make an appointment with my secretary. She’ll get you on the calendar. I’m a busy man, you know.”
“Oh, I know.”
“And Sam?”
“Mmm?”
“I’m expecting doughnuts at the reception. Chocolate iced doughnuts.”
A chuckle ran through her. “Whatever you want, Tommy. Whatever you want.”
COMPLETELY DISORIENTED, Adam awoke in a stran
ge bed and couldn’t remember where he was, or why. Reality came in pieces—he recognized the hotel room first, and then remembered the election. He’d won, which brought a grin to his face. Winning felt good.
He recalled proposing to Phoebe, which also felt good.
She hadn’t answered, though, and he’d brought her to the hotel room to talk, to celebrate, to plan. So…where was she?
“Phoebe?” He sat up, recognized the pile of his clothes by the bed. They’d gone a little crazy with that first kiss, hadn’t been able to stop or to think or to talk. Adam grinned again, reliving their passion. He’d never known what freedom meant until he’d made love to Phoebe Moss.
“Phoebe, are you here?” Dumb question, since she hadn’t answered him the first time, since her clothes were nowhere to be seen. She’d dressed and gone out. For a sandwich? For a newspaper to read about their win? For another bottle of champagne?
Forever, according to the note he found on the table by the window.
Dear Adam,
I wish I could marry you, but I’m selfish, I guess. You’ve chosen a path I can’t follow without giving up myself. Hard as it will be, I’d rather live without you than spend my life trying to be someone I’m not. I’m so very, very sorry.
I do love you.
Phoebe
P.S. This officially breaks our “engagement.” I’ll let you make the announcement.
Adam sat for a long, long time with the note in his hands. Then he got up, got dressed and went home to listen to the messages of congratulations on his answering machine.
And to start his first day as mayor-elect of New Skye, North Carolina, with the ashes of victory bitter in his mouth.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BY THE WEEKEND AFTER THE election, Phoebe had begun to wonder if she’d dreamed the entire campaign experience. Except for those times when she was unwise enough to turn on local news reports or read the paper—and she’d quickly learned to do neither—she hadn’t seen or heard from Adam DeVries, his family or his friend Tommy since Wednesday morning. She went to work, resolutely keeping her gaze averted from L. T. LaRue’s construction site, and came home again to take care of herself, her farm and her animals. That was the life she’d desired, had built for herself. Should be satisfied with.
And she was, for the most part. The weather had warmed, giving her golden, if short, afternoons and a beautiful Saturday for riding and working. She cleared the pastures of sticks brought down by the wind and finally coaxed Samson into taking pieces of apple from her hand. The dogs all got baths and the horses received a good brushing.
Saturday night the weather turned wet, and then cold, so feeding the horses on Sunday morning wasn’t quite the usual pleasant experience. She’d just dumped alfalfa over the fence rail when a sleek silver car appeared at the turn of the driveway. She only knew one person with a silver Lexus.
“Hi, Tommy.” Meeting him without Adam seemed strange. But at least it wasn’t too painful.
“Hey, Phoebe. How are you?” He looked more rested than she’d seen him in weeks, more relaxed. She realized suddenly, and with no little guilt, how much the campaign must have taken out of Tommy himself. He’d probably worked harder than any of them.
She invited him inside and poured them both a cup of coffee. “I came to apologize,” he said, sitting at the kitchen table in the same chair where Adam had worked on his stutter. “Things got really tense those last few weeks. There were times I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.”
“That makes at least two of us. I’m sorry, too, Tommy. I know you were trying to do your best for Adam’s campaign.”
“I was. And I could never figure out whether you were an obstacle or a help.” He shrugged and gave her his sideways smile. “Guess it doesn’t matter now. He won, and that’s all there is to it.”
“Here’s to Mayor Adam DeVries.” She lifted her mug and Tommy joined her in the toast. “I hope he can make the changes he thinks are important.”
“He’s a stubborn cuss. I imagine he’ll get just about everything he wants.”
She ignored the glint in his eye. “Good for him. How’s Sam?”
“She’s great, working on analysis articles of the election. Seems that Adam won with a heavy margin of the middle income voters, who got really fed up when Tate won the car in the raffle. They started paying attention to our ads at that point, and sixty-five percent of them decided to try out a new mayor. Combined with the high-income voters and a reasonable percentage of lower income votes, we came out a comfortable fifty-five to forty-five. We really did okay.”
Phoebe listened to him ramble, realizing that this was, to a large degree, Tommy’s achievement and he deserved to brag about it. When he left, she gave him a hug and a promise to come into town some time for dinner.
Then, ordering herself not to cry and not to look back, she returned to cleaning the house. She was flat on her stomach on the bedroom floor, vacuuming up the dust bunnies under the bed, when she heard the rumble of truck tires on the driveway.
Scrambling clumsily to her feet, Phoebe went to the window, where the sight of the white DeVries Construction vehicle drove her heart into a gallop. As she walked slowly, almost reluctantly, outside, her throat closed with something that felt like fear and hurt like hope.
Adam dropped out of the driver’s seat with a thud of his boots on the hardened ground. “Hi.” He didn’t smile, and he had his arms crossed over his chest in a stiff pose. “How are you?”
“O-okay.” Which was more or less true, although she probably had dust in her hair and dirt on her face and these were her oldest jeans and sloppiest sweatshirt. And her heart was breaking, just looking at him. “How are you?”
“Lousy. But I had to bring you something.”
“Oh.” Had she left a piece of clothing at his house, and he couldn’t wait to get rid of it? He should have just thrown it away. “Come on in.”
Once he’d followed her onto the porch, though, he stopped. “We might want to do this here. And keep the dogs out.”
Turning back to him, Phoebe gave up even trying to figure out what was going on. “That’s fine.” She didn’t know whether to hold out her hand or just stand there.
“I didn’t know what else to do with this,” Adam said, unzipping his jacket. He put a hand into one side, and pulled out a small brown ball. “So I brought it to you.”
As she watched, the ball moved in his palm. A head emerged, sharp brown ears, two hazy eyes in that peculiar shade of newborn blue.
“Adam! Oh, what is this?” She reached out and cupped the ball of fur, felt slender bones under the fur against her skin. “A puppy? You brought me a puppy?” Backing up, she dropped onto the sofa without jarring the dog. “Why?”
Adam sat down beside her. “I found it. In the middle of the street near one of my housing sites.”
“This poor little thing in the middle of the street? Today, in this weather?”
He nodded. “I thought it…he…was a rock…or maybe a turtle…until he moved. And I couldn’t just leave him there, sick or starved, or who knows what. The only solution I could think of was to bring him here. To you.”
“You brought me a dog.” She blinked back tears. And smiled.
Adam gazed at her a moment, then stared down at his hands, gripped together between his knees. “I don’t hate dogs. Or cats. I just… See, we had P-Pixie, and she was mine. Tim and Theresa liked her and played with her, but she was my dog. She slept on my bed, waited outside the bathroom door while I took a shower. We did everything together except school. And she waited for me at the end of the driveway each day. The sun shone through the trees in the afternoons, and she liked to take a nap in that spot till I got home.”
He cleared his throat. “One day, when I was eight, I came home and she wasn’t there. I called, and she didn’t come. That hadn’t happened since I’d started kindergarten. When I got inside, my mother said…” His deep breath shook. “Said P-Pixie had been run over as she slept. And
she was dead. My mother took her to the vet so I wouldn’t see. My d-dog just d-disappeared.”
“Oh, Adam.” In the cup of her hands, the puppy had curled back to sleep.
He shrugged, pretending not to care. “Life g-goes on. I started stuttering. And we n-never got another d-dog. I couldn’t.”
“I’m sorry. I know how much you must have hurt.”
“I grew up, learned how to bury the hurt. But your dogs, your cats…your life…showed me that it’s possible to feel the joy without dreading the loss. And so when I found the puppy, I knew he belonged in your world.”
“Don’t you want him?”
“With my life? He wouldn’t be happy living the way I do. Any more than you were.”
Phoebe nearly doubled over in pain as the truth hit her. Like his beloved dog, she’d simply disappeared.
But Adam had found the strength to rise above that betrayal, and to come here with an offering she couldn’t refuse. Did she have the strength to match his generosity? Could she reject her own fears and become the person she wanted to be?
She set the puppy down in the corner of the couch, where he simply curled tighter, slept harder. Then she turned back to Adam. “How’s life as mayor-elect?”
“Slightly less hectic than life as a wannabe. Tommy and I declared a m-moratorium on politics for at least two weeks. He and Samantha are planning a wedding instead.”
“That was fast.”
“Tommy wastes no time, once he knows what he wants.”
“Some of us aren’t so smart.”
“You have what you want and I…” He dragged in another deep breath and got to his feet. “I do, too.”
She wanted to keep him talking. “How are your parents? What happened after the fundraising dance?”
“I had lunch with m-my d-dad this past week. He’s still f-furious with my mother, but m-mellowing. They’re two halves of a person—I don’t think either could survive without the other. I suggested maybe they need some c-counseling. I know how helpful a g-good therapist can be.” His smile flashed briefly, then was gone. He looked around the porch, as if he’d lost something and was trying to find it. “I-I guess I’d better get back to town.”
The Last Honest Man Page 25
