Adam looked blank, then rueful. “Of course. I'll get the key and lock up.” At her questioning glance, he added, “Rusty and I are supposed to go for a drink, to talk about what we're going to do. I don't want any surprises waitin’ on me when I get back."
"Oh.” Lacy took a deep breath, fear lancing through her. “Please ... be careful, Adam.” For an answer, he sidled up behind her, pressing into her and bending his head to nibble her neck right in front of the open door.
Right in front of God and everybody.
"Why? Would you miss me, darlin'?"
How could he joke at a time like this? she wondered, getting angry. Sharply, she said, “That's not the point...."
Warm air stirred the curls at the nape of her neck as he breathed in her ear, “Forget me already? Shall we go back in and reacquaint ourselves?"
"Adam...!"
He laughed, his mood changing so swiftly Lacy could scarcely keep up. “No matter how hard you try to ignore it, it's not going to go away."
Forcing herself to move away from the tempting warmth of his body, Lacy stepped onto the boardwalk and turned to watch him lock the door. She pasted a prim expression on her face that made him laugh again—and sparked her temper. “Adam Logan, you behave yourself,” she whispered, glancing around to see if anyone was watching.
He joined her on the boardwalk and took her arm, careful of the bandage beneath her dress sleeve. With a jaunty smile and a step to match, he led her down the street. After a moment, he grinned down at her face. “You know,” he began with a casualness that immediately made her suspicious, “Rusty warned me that his old shotgun still worked."
Lacy tripped over her feet. Her startled eyes flew to his smiling face. “He didn't!"
"He did,” Adam said, his expression smug. “If he knew about our ... tumble in the hay—"
Lacy jerked to a stop. “You wouldn't!” Suddenly, his words registered. Tumble in the hay? She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She tried again, but just as she found the appropriate words to describe what a low-down, dirty dog he was, she saw the laughter in his eyes. “Oh, you! You make me so mad sometimes I could—” She ended her frustrated spurt of words abruptly as the lamplighter called a greeting to them from across the road.
Adam tipped his hat and waved. Lacy smiled and returned the greeting to the old man, then shot Adam a look that should have felled him on the spot. When he offered her his arm again, she stuck her nose in the air and ignored it.
She'd taken no more than ten steps before she stopped again. She froze with her hands holding the edge of her dress out of the dirt. The lamplighter.... The lamplighter!
"Adam.” Her voice came out hardly above a whisper. Adam continued walking. She cleared her throat. “Adam!"
Adam halted and turned. “Hmmm?” When he saw the expression on her face, he reached her in two long strides. “What is it?” he demanded, reaching for his gun as he scanned the area around them. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, no lurking shadows at the corners of the buildings. He turned back to face her, a question hovering on his lips.
She looked like a statue, as if she were frozen in time.
Chapter Fifteen
The lamplighter! The words tumbled around and around inside her head. She grew dizzy with the effort it took to remember if she'd seen him that evening so long ago. The memory whispered into her mind, then danced away. She was almost certain she'd seen the lamplighter. Almost. The old man was a common sight, scurrying up and down the street in the late evening and again in the early morning to extinguish the flames. She hardly noticed him anymore unless he called out to her.
Meeting Adam's impatient gaze, she said, “I think the lamplighter was there. His name is—"
"Noel. I know. Go on to the house. I'll be there directly,” he ordered, his gaze going to the old man across the road.
Reluctantly, Lacy did as he said, glancing back once to note that Noel and Adam appeared to be in deep discussion. Maybe Noel would be able to help where she had failed, she thought hopefully.
Her grandfather was waiting for her on the front porch. He met her before she could reach the steps, guiding her up the wooden planks. “Watch your step—noticed a loose board there today. I'll fix it up right good tomorrow."
Lacy was too distracted to pay much attention to his ramblings. She stepped where he instructed. “Adam's talking to Noel, Grandpa."
"Noel?” Her grandfather opened the door for her, his bushy eyebrows topping his forehead. “What for?"
"I think he might have been lighting the lamps when ... when Sheriff Murddock was killed.” She hadn't realized her choice of words until her grandfather clapped her on the back so hard he nearly sent her sprawling into the living room.
"I knew my gal would come around! I jus’ knew it. You know ole’ Colt didn't kill himself."
Lacy rolled her eyes to the ceiling, admitting defeat. There was no use wasting her breath trying to explain that she had never really thought about it one way or the other. She had been in shock, and later she had tried to block it from her mind.
"Come on, let's get some coffee going. ‘Magine Adam'll want a swig when he gets here.” Her grandfather sprinted ahead of her in the direction of the kitchen.
Frowning, Lacy followed. She took a chair at the table and watched him stoke the fire beneath the coffee kettle. “Adam said something about you and him going for a drink?"
The fire door slammed shut with a bang. Her grandfather darted his eyes to her, then quickly away again. Lacy knew the signs. It meant he was hiding something. “Grandpa? Did you hear what I said?"
"What? Oh, that. I forgot, is all. Well.” He dusted his hands on his trousers. “You'll be wantin’ some coffee, won't ya?” He shook his head, muttering, “I must be losin’ my memory these days."
Now Lacy was very suspicious. Her grandfather didn't forget anything, to her knowledge. And sometimes to her regret. “Grandpa.... “The warning in her tone came through loud and clear.
Before he could come up with a believable explanation, they heard a crash, followed by a pain-filled curse. Exchanging a startled glance, Lacy and her grandfather raced to the sound and found Adam sitting on the porch steps, his right leg stretched out before him.
Beneath the light of the porch lamp, his face was a mask of pain.
"What on earth—Adam? What happened?” Lacy crouched beside him, attempting to examine the ankle he was clasping with both hands.
Her grandfather answered for him. “I'll tell you what happened. He fell through that damned broken board on the steps. I shouldn't have put it off. Ain't that right, Adam?"
"Yeah, that's what happened."
With Lacy and her grandfather's help, Adam tried to stand. He grunted as he tried to put his weight on his ankle. Her grandpa grunted along with him and announced, “Looks like you'll be stayin’ the night here, Adam. Can't walk to the jailhouse on that injury. Might do more damage."
Lacy tried to keep the joy from her face, but some of it bled through in her voice. “Guess you're right, Grandpa. We'll have to take care of him tonight."
Adam grumbled, looking from one to the other. “Is this a conspiracy?” he demanded in mock anger.
Lacy blushed and quickly covered her discomfiture with a brisk manner. “You flatter yourself, Sheriff.” She absolutely refused to look at his face because she knew she'd find a knowing smile on his lips.
Ha! She wasn't so certain it wasn't a conspiracy, but if it was, she had played no part in it!
* * * *
Her grandfather went to the saloon alone, which Lacy thought was a little odd. Before he left, he helped Lacy settle Adam onto the sofa and brought in a pan of cold well water so Adam could soak his ankle.
After he had gone, Lacy became fidgety. Ben had gone to bed, tired from a hard day's work helping Ida and Kent down at the general store, and Takola was in her room working the soft leather that Lacy had purchased for her into a new dress.
It was too early to go to bed, y
et she felt nervous with her grandpa gone. She hesitated in the doorway of the living room. “You're sure you don't want me to fetch Doc Martin?"
Adam shook his head, smiled and winced. “Yes, I'm sure. Just a little sprain. Hardly any swelling at all."
Lacy toyed with the end of her braid, still undecided about what to do. Normally at this time of night, she would sit in the living room sewing, or reading. If Grandpa was home, they would talk for a while. “Well ... if you're sure."
"I'm sure.” Adam smiled and patted the sofa beside him. “Come here. You're as nervous as a cat."
"Oh, I don't want to bother you—"
"Don't be ridiculous. You would bother me more if you went to bed."
"I would?” Lacy lifted a questioning brow. She clung to the door jamb as if it were the only thing holding her upright.
"Yes. Then I'd have to sit here wondering if you sleep naked, or if you snored in your sleep."
"I do not snore, Adam Logan.” She tossed her head. “And furthermore, I do not sleep in the raw."
Adam muffled a sound of regret. “You couldn't leave me with my fantasy, could you?” He patted the sofa again, his eyes appealing, his grin boyish. He didn't look as if he were in pain now. “Come and talk to me."
"What—what do you want to talk about?” She swallowed and came slowly into the room. Instead of taking the place he offered, she sat in her grandpa's favorite chair by the cold fireplace. He was right; she was being ridiculous. Wasn't this what she had wanted? Adam spending the night under her roof? There was just something about the gleam in his eye that she didn't trust.
Water sloshed in the pan as Adam adjusted his foot. She had rolled the hem of his jeans to keep it from getting wet and she averted her eyes from the disturbing sight of his muscled calf.
With a smile clearly meant to ease her nervousness, Adam said, “Tell me how Ben's doing."
Lacy pounced on the harmless topic with all the vigor of a chicken chasing a grasshopper. “He's doing wonderful, but you should know that. You see more of him than I do."
"Not lately.” When Lacy shot him a look of alarm, he hastened on, “No, nothing like that. He's been working a lot of odd jobs aside from the work he does for me."
"Yes, I know. Says he's saving his money, but he won't say what he's saving for.” A tender smile curved her mouth. “It's like he's a different little boy, since you came to town."
Adam brushed the compliment aside. “He just needed a little boost of confidence."
"Yes, but you gave him that boost. And Takola, too.” It was true, and she wasn't about to let him forget it. “Even Grandpa has changed for the better."
A silence fell. Lacy adjusted her skirts and fiddled with her apron. Adam remained relaxed, studying her with a lazy expression that made her heart pound with excitement and anticipation. It was there between them, still fresh in both of their minds. She could see it in his eyes, and feel it in her heart. His next statement sent Lacy into a tailspin of emotions.
"I've changed, too, Lacy."
Hope, elation, and fear slammed into her. She was so glad she was sitting. “How—how have you changed?” Thunder, but she sounded like a breathless schoolgirl with her first crush!
Adam seemed not to notice. He leaned his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes. “Once upon a time, I was a lot like Ben. I didn't have a lick of self-confidence. Thought I was worthless.” He opened one eye and looked at her, then promptly closed it again. “My stepfather didn't believe in building character; he believed in knocking it down. You see, to him, that was how you made a man out of a boy."
His tone was light, but Lacy was perceptive enough to sense an underlying pain buried deep beneath the man Adam Logan was today. A hurt little boy. Tears of sympathy burned the back of her throat, but she swallowed them down. Adam wouldn't want her pity. In that way, he was a lot like her.
Beyond the curtained window, Lacy saw a flash of lightening. The storm was nearly upon them and her grandpa was at the saloon. She soothed her worry by reminding herself her grandfather was a grown man, however irresponsible he acted sometimes. But looking at Adam, listening to him talk of the subtle torture of his childhood, she realized that even grown men needed comforting and nurturing.
She sensed Adam needed it now. “You—you mentioned that he made your mother's life a living hell. I take it she wasn't alone?” Hesitantly, she stood and walked to the couch. He still had his head thrown back, but she knew he was aware of her approach. She sat beside him and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. Only when she realized that he would allow it did she breathe again. It was hard to forget how he'd mocked her about taking in strays and kissing their tears away. He had sounded so cynical.
But the man sitting beside her now did seem like a different man. Maybe he was right, and he had changed.
"My mother,” Adam said softly. “She was the love of my life. Rudy Wagner didn't deserve her. Hell, Wagner doesn't deserve anybody.” He turned his head and their gazes met, locked. Lacy held herself very still. “I never told her about the beatings the bastard gave me and I hope she never found out. She married him for me."
"I don't understand."
Adam's laugh sounded hollow. “She thought I needed a father, after my own pa died."
"Oh.” Lacy didn't know what to say. She could understand his mother's reasoning, but it was sad that she had picked the wrong man for the job. It took a special person to be a parent. It seemed Rudy Wagner had fallen way short of the mark, and Adam's mother had suffered as well from her unwise choice.
"He beat her too, as I'm sure you've guessed.” He lifted their entwined hands, studying the contrasting sun-tanned brown of his own against her fragile white one. “That's how I knew you had been abused. My mother had that same look in her eyes whenever my stepfather came into the room. She was scared to death of him. There were times when I plotted to kill him, but she guessed my intentions and begged me not to, because of my brothers."
A tear spilled over onto Lacy's cheek and she turned her face slightly away, not wanting Adam to see it. It was an awful story, and one that sounded very familiar. Her scars might be old, but she still remembered. Oh, how she remembered. The shame, the guilt, the fear. The freedom she had felt at the news of David's death.
Adam tugged at her chin until she was facing him again, forcing her to meet his questioning, gentle look. “Why did you stay?” he asked softly.
Lacy closed her eyes, the old shame swamping her. “Because I couldn't bring myself to admit failure. Because I kept thinking it was me, that I was doing something wrong. And later ... because I was afraid he'd come after me.” She drew in a shaky breath, angry at the tears slipping down her cheeks. “He told me if I ever tried to leave, he'd kill me. After he died, I swore to myself that the only men in my life would be old men and little boys."
"Rusty and Ben,” Adam murmured, as if to himself. “And now?"
She kept her eyes closed, but felt him come closer as his breath wafted across her face. It was soothing, and he smelled of peppermint. He always smelled of peppermint. Ida must be stocking double the amount of peppermint sticks since Adam's arrival in town. The thought made her smile. It was a wane smile, but a smile nonetheless. Adam had a way of sweeping away the dark clouds.
As if to mock her dramatic thoughts, thunder rumbled and behind her closed lids, she saw a quick flash of light. She jerked her eyes open, catching Adam's tender expression. It took her breath away.
He was waiting for an answer, and she knew him well enough to know that he could wait a long time.
"Now ... I don't know. Obviously I've broken my own rules.” She managed a self-derisive laugh.
Adam's fingers tightened on her chin as if to scold her. “But you don't know if you want to continue breaking them,” he guessed.
"I do, but—"
"You're afraid."
"Yes."
"Of me."
"No."
"Bull crap."
Lacy moved out
of his grasp, relieved when he let her go.
Adam wouldn't let the subject drop. With a hard edge to his voice, he asked, “What would it take to convince you I'm not like David?"
"I know you're not like David!” Lacy realized she'd nearly shouted. She glanced at the stairway, then glared at Adam as if it was his fault. “I told you, David's not the problem—or my problems with David are not the issue."
"Bull crap."
"Stop saying that."
"Okay. Bull shit."
"Oh!” Lacy thought about punching him, but just managed to refrain. He brought out the beast in her, the rat! One minute he had her smiling and the next she was mad enough to spit.
He also made her say things she would normally not have the courage to say. “Why do you care? You're leaving town as soon as your business is finished."
"You could change my mind."
Lacy felt the shock of his words all the way to her toes. Heavens, how she wanted to, if he but knew! But that would put him in further danger and she couldn't bear the thought.
"Adam, I—"
The front door burst open, to Lacy's immense relief, saving her from having to answer. Adam gave her a look that clearly promised they would resume the conversation at a later date. Of that, Lacy had no doubt. He was a stubborn man.
"Grandpa, you're all wet!” Lacy jumped to her feet. “I'll get a towel.” Feeling Adam's mocking eyes on her, she raced from the room.
It wasn't until much later, when she was snug in her own bed and on the verge of sleep that she remembered she had completely forgotten to ask Adam about his talk with Noel.
* * * *
When Lacy disappeared up the stairs, Adam addressed Rusty, keeping his voice low. “Well? How did it go? Any of the mayor's henchmen in the saloon?"
Rusty shook the rain from his head, grinning. “Yep. Two of the varmints. Made sure they heard every word, too."
"And they don't know that I'm here?"
"Nope. They think you're sawin’ logs at the jail."
Adam rubbed his hands together. “Good. Now all we can do is wait and see what develops. You talk that granddaughter of yours into retiring for the night so we can stand watch."
Secrets In The Shadows Page 22
