Restoring His Heart

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Restoring His Heart Page 17

by Lorraine Beatty


  A month ago Adam would have called all this the worst kind of corny, but now he wanted to soak it all in. The music, the sights, the delectable smells all gave him a sense of belonging. Of home.

  “Adam.”

  He turned, coming face-to-face with Shaw McKinney. He braced. Had he come to warn him away from Laura again? “Shaw.”

  McKinney smiled and extended his hand. “Good to see you here.”

  Adam nodded, sensing there was more to come.

  “I wanted to let you know I’ve changed my mind about some things.” He slipped his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and inhaled a slow, measured breath. “You did a good job on the gazebo. Better than I expected. And you worked hard to get it done. That means a lot. Mostly, I wanted to tell you that I was wrong about you and LC. Forget what I said. You’re a good man.”

  Stunned, Adam took a moment to find his voice. “Thanks, but I don’t think I understand.”

  Shaw smiled and punched him lightly on the shoulder. “I saw for myself how much you love her, man. That’s all that matters.”

  “Shaw, sweetie, I got your drink.”

  A fiery redhead in skinny jeans and a flouncy top sidled up to Shaw and smiled. “Thanks. Tell LC I said hello. You planning on staying in Dover, Adam?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Well, if you do, you’d be a welcome addition.”

  Speechless, Adam watched the couple walk away.

  “Was that Shaw?” Laura appeared at his side.

  Adam nodded. “He said to say hello. I think that’s the first time I’ve seen him smile. He was always so sour when we worked together.”

  “Are you kidding? Shaw is as easygoing as they come. And the most eligible bachelor in Dover. I doubt if there’s a woman alive who could get him to settle down.”

  A slow smiled moved his lips. “That’s what they used to say about me, too.”

  Laura blushed and took his hand, glancing at the gazebo. “So what do you think?”

  Arm in arm they strolled slowly toward the cherished landmark, an odd mixture of pride and affection swirling in Adam’s chest. The gazebo had been completely transformed. All signs of construction had vanished. The once-trampled and muddy ground around the site was now covered with thick, lush sod. Small shrubs and colorful flowers encircled the foundation like a living wreath. A necklace of bunting in green and gold draped around the lattice inserts at the roofline and wrapped around the thick turned posts.

  They stopped at the base of the steps. Laura squeezed his arm.

  “What do you think?”

  “It looks like it’s never been touched.” He gazed down at her. “You do amazing work.”

  “You helped. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Laura started up the steps, the ones he’d help build. Inside the gazebo, Adam made a slow tour of the structure. He ran a hand along the handrail and over one of the posts, remembering the work he’d put into it. A swell of pride expanded his chest. The accomplishment was a turning point in his life. He understood now the importance of the landmark and what it meant to Dover.

  Laura slipped her arm around his waist. “You’re a part of us now, Adam. Every time you think of Dover, you’ll remember the work you put into this gazebo. You’ll carry us with you wherever you go and we’ll always have a part of you here with us.”

  With a fresh coat of paint covering the entire gazebo, he could almost believe nothing had happened. But a great deal had happened. This little building had changed his life. He turned to face Laura, looking deep into her eyes, watching them turn deep purple. Was she remembering the kiss that day in the rain? He started to pull her closer only to remember there were no tarps to shield them today.

  He took her hand and started toward the steps. He wished he could capture this moment. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he turned on the camera, flagging down a passerby to take their picture in the gazebo. He pulled Laura to his side, gazing down at her, knowing in his very depths that he belonged at her side. If only he had the courage to tell her how he felt.

  *

  Laura gazed out over the courthouse square now bathed in the warmth of streetlights and strings of twinkle lights. The gazebo lights had blinked on, casting a romantic curtain of light down along its sides. From the balcony of her father’s store she had a panoramic view of the downtown. Music from the stage across the square floated on the air, underscored by the tinny sound of the carnival rides a few blocks over. The white canopies over the vendors glowed in the waning daylight. She inhaled a deep breath, smiling at the tantalizing aromas of the carnival foods available below.

  She smiled when Adam join her, laying his hand over hers on the rail. “This is one of my favorite days of the year. I love the festival.”

  “I think it’s become one of mine, too.”

  They watched in companionable silence a moment. “We have one more thing to do.” She turned and looked at him. “The balloon glow.”

  “Don’t think I’ve ever been to one.”

  “What? A world traveler like you?”

  “I’m beginning to see my world was missing some key stops. When and where do we view this spectacular sight?”

  She pointed toward the southwest side of town. “There’s an open field where the balloons are set up. Once it’s dark they’ll fire up the burners and inflate the balloons. I heard there are going be nearly two dozen this year. It’s my favorite part.”

  Adam slipped an arm around her waist. “I think every part of the festival is your favorite.”

  Laura giggled. “Guess so.”

  They caught the tractor-pulled shuttle at the edge of the square and took the bumpy ride to the field. Adam took her hand as they followed the crowds gathering for the event. “I know a good spot to watch from. It’s a longer walk, but it’ll be worth it.” She took a path away from the crowds and up a slight slope. When they reached a rustic wooden fence, she bent down and slipped between the rails. Adam raised an eyebrow. “It’s all right. This is part of Uncle Hank’s land.”

  She stopped beneath a live oak, pointing toward the field. “You can see all the balloons from up here.”

  Adam took her hand in his, pulling her against his side. “I can see all I want to right here.”

  Now was her chance, the opportunity she’d waited for all day. She’d tell him how she felt, ask him to stay. “Adam, I want to talk to you about something.”

  “All right. As long as it’s nothing bad. I don’t want anything to spoil this day. I want to concentrate on you and make each moment count.” He held her gaze a moment then glanced off toward the field. “I think your glow is starting.”

  She turned, finding herself in the circle of his arms, her back resting against his chest.

  In the field below, the balloons started to billow and move as the propane burners coughed hot air inside them. The flames from the burners flashed in spurts of gold like fireflies.

  First one, then another slowly inflated, their large envelopes coming to life. Some were a solid color, some multicolored stripes, others carried company logos. A few were in whimsical shapes. A house. An animal. Even an oddly shaped balloon tree. The field suddenly exploded in glowing color.

  Within minutes the balloons were upright, tethered to the ground, but their expanded envelopes rising like glowing mushrooms side by side across the field. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

  Adam wrapped his arm tighter around her. “It is, but not as beautiful as you.”

  “Tomorrow morning they’ll all take to the air and float over Dover. I love waking up to the sound of the burners. They drift on the wind so silent and beautiful. I think riding in one might be a small adventure I’d like to try someday.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Laura closed her eyes, imprinting this day in her memory. A perfect day. A perfect man. Now was the time to say the words. “Adam…”

  A jarring blast of sound broke into the quiet. Adam pulled his phone from his poc
ket and turned away. She heard him mutter under his breath, then groan. “What is it?” The look on his face scared her. “Adam, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s my father. He’s suffered a heart attack. He’s in critical condition. I have to go, Laura. I need to be there.”

  Her disappointment was quickly replace with concern. “Of course you do. We’ll head back right now.” She pulled her own phone from her pocket and touched her travel app. “I’ll see if I can get you a flight out of Jackson to Atlanta tonight. It’s the closest airport, but there aren’t many flights. If we can’t get a flight out of there, we’ll try New Orleans, but it’s a two-hour drive from here.” Adam took her arm, guiding her through the fence and back down the hill. The shuttle returned them to the square. Back in her father’s house, Adam stopped and placed his hands on her arms.

  “I wanted to talk to you. I had so much to say, but now…”

  She shook her head. “It’s all right. We’ll talk when you come back. You will come back, won’t you?” He hesitated before replying, sending her heart into a deep chill.

  “I’ll try.” He kissed her forehead, then hurried upstairs to pack. Twenty minutes later he was gone, leaving her alone and with a mountain of doubt weighing down her heart.

  Chapter Twelve

  The antiseptic smell permeated everywhere, even the elevator. Adam doubted he’d ever get used to it. The doors slid open and he stepped out onto the fifth floor of Hillside Hospital, heading toward his father’s room. The sight of Orson Gould standing outside filled him with a surge of alarm. He quickened his steps. “Orson, what’s happened?”

  The slender man, his father’s longtime legal counsel and close friend, held up his hand. “He’s fine. In fact, it’s good news for a change.”

  Adam released a heartfelt sigh, resting his hands on his hips. In the weeks since he’d come home, his father had suffered another heart attack and major surgery. It would be nice to get some encouraging news for a change.

  “I spoke with his physician a few minutes ago, and they believe he’ll be able to go home in a few days. I’m going to start making arrangements for his care. Will you be staying on?”

  “No. If he’s improved that much, there’s no reason for me to stay in Atlanta.”

  Orson stared at him a moment. “Adam, I want you to know, I tried my best to get him to change his mind about the will and the trust fund, but he’s stubborn. Once he makes up his mind…”

  “I know.” He patted the man’s shoulder. Orson was his only contact to his father, the only one he could call for help. “I appreciate it.”

  “Perhaps now that he’s had this brush with death, he’ll be more amenable to change, at least to restoring your trust fund.”

  Adam shook his head. “I don’t care about the money, Orson. I’ve found something better.”

  “Better?”

  “I’ve found peace. And hopefully a home.”

  Orson nodded. “Ah. You’re referring to that matter I helped you with recently in Duncan, Mississippi?”

  “Dover. Yes.”

  “Well, I sincerely hope it works out. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Adam stood outside the room for a moment, praying for another dose of patience and understanding. So far his visits to his father had all started and ended the same way. A less-than-welcome greeting and an order to stay away. He pushed the door open.

  His father was sitting in the chair today, a vast improvement. “Hello, Dad. It’s good to see you out of that bed. How are you feeling?”

  He cursed and glared. “You back again? I don’t need you here.”

  Adam swallowed the knot of hurt and moved to the chair beside his father. “They tell me you’re going home soon.”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “I’m concerned.”

  “Concerned about your money. I told you, you’re not getting it back.”

  “I’m not here for the money, Dad. I’m here for you. For us.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  They’d been down this same road before. Adam rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. Maybe it was time to lay things on the line. “I came to ask your forgiveness, Dad. I know I haven’t been the son you wanted and I’m sorry. I’m hoping you’ll forgive me.”

  Arthur Holbrook jerked his head around. “If this is some of that religious junk you’re trying on me, I won’t have it.”

  “No, Dad. I just don’t want us to be angry at each other anymore. I’m accepting my part in our strained relationship and I’ve forgiven you for yours.”

  “Forgive me. For what?”

  “Not being there. Not being a father when I needed it.”

  “I gave you everything you needed. You threw it all away on fool stunts. Without my money you’ll be nothing.”

  Adam stood. There was no point in continuing. He’d done what he’d come to do. “You’re wrong. I’ve found everything. My faith, a home and someone I want to spend my life with.”

  “She only wants your money. Once she knows you’re penniless she’ll leave.”

  “She already knows and it doesn’t make any difference.” He walked to the door, all hope of reconciling gone. “I’m going back to her as soon as I can make arrangements. Goodbye, Dad. Take care of yourself.”

  He had one foot in the corridor when he heard his father call his name.

  “You ever coming home again?”

  He turned to face his father, surprised to find the stern features had softened a bit, and a faint pleading in his dark eyes. A grain of hope, smaller than a mustard seed, sprouted in Adam’s heart. “I’d like you to meet her. Her name is Laura and I think you’d like her.”

  Arthur Holbrook turned his head. “Suit yourself.”

  It wasn’t much, but it was something. Adam strode down the corridor. He’d done all he could. Now it was time to return to Dover and talk to Laura. He just prayed he hadn’t stayed away too long.

  *

  On Thanksgiving Day, Laura slipped away from the kitchen and sought out the quiet of the formal living room in her parents’ home, tucking herself into the corner of the sofa. Normally this was one of her most cherished family holidays. Having her family gathered around, talking, laughing, sharing a turkey dinner filled her heart to overflowing. But this year something, no, someone, was missing, and it was hard to enjoy the day not knowing where he was or what he was doing. More important, why hadn’t he contacted her since leaving Dover?

  Laura fingered her cell phone a moment, then pulled up her contact list. She paused with her finger on the call key. All she had to do was touch it and wait for him to answer. She could say she wanted to know how his father was. It was the truth, but not as much as she wanted to know about him.

  The only message she’d received was the photo he’d sent of them taken in the gazebo at the festival. He’d captioned it with the words Perfect Day. She’d examined the photo dozens of times, looking for some reassurance in his smile, his eyes. One time she’d thought she saw love in his green eyes. But the next time she didn’t see anything but a man having a nice day with a friend.

  Closing her eyes, she let her hand fall to her lap, her conflicted emotions immobilizing her once again. She’d tried to call him several times in the last three weeks, but her courage had always failed at the last moment. What was the point, after all? Eventually she’d had to face the truth. Once he’d returned to his life in Atlanta, he’d realized the differences between them were too great.

  “Why won’t you call him?”

  Laura opened her eyes. Her new sisterin-law, Shelby Russell, no, Durrant, was frowning at her. “What good would it do?”

  “Maybe none. Maybe a lot. But you won’t know until you try.”

  She shook her head. “It’s all my fault. I was asking him to be something he wasn’t. I misread everything.” She drew her knees up under her so Shelby could join her on the sofa. “What’s that old saying? You can take the man out of the city, but you can’t take the city
out of the man?”

  “I don’t think that’s the way I’ve heard it, but I get your point.” She rested a hand on Laura’s. “You miss him, don’t you?”

  Laura blinked as tears stung her eyes. “Only every time I see that stupid gazebo. I dialed his number once, at your and Matt’s reception.”

  “But you didn’t wait for him to answer, did you?”

  “No, I chickened out. I thought he cared, but it’s been weeks now without a call. All he’s sent is one stupid picture.”

  “What picture?”

  Laura pulled it up on her phone and handed it to Shelby.

  “Uh, Laura, honey, that is a picture of a man crazy in love.”

  She took the phone back. “A man in love calls. How lame is that? I believed him when he said, ‘I’ll call you.’ There’s only one way to interpret that, Shelby. He’s moved on.”

  Shelby exhaled a grunt of frustration. “Laura, the man bought you a building. I’d say that was a pretty good clue that he loves you.”

  Laura nodded in agreement. “That was very sweet.”

  “You really don’t know what he’s dealing with right now. He’s probably tied up at the hospital with his father. You said he was in critical condition.”

  She drew her legs all the way to her chest and laid her head on her knees. “I know. And I feel awful for focusing on me and not him. I’ve prayed that his father will be all right and they can find a way to reconcile, but it would help if I knew what was going on.”

  “I know. But I’d be willing to guess that he’s been so tied up with his father he just hasn’t had time to call.”

  “Or it could be that I’m a really lousy judge of men.”

  “If you mean to say Adam wasn’t worth your affection, then yes, you are.”

  “You didn’t know him like I did.”

  “Maybe not, but your parents and your brother thought well of him and I trust their judgment.”

  Laura glanced over her shoulder. “Right. Like Dad showed good judgment when he put the store up for sale?”

 

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