Autumn's Shadow

by Lyn Cote

  Old Doc shook his head. "Freda, you're a hopeless romantic. The doctor who's coming here has other plans for her life, bigger plans. But we've got her for six years. We just need one more big fundraiser to finish our part of the contract."

  Burke nodded. "Sounds like a good plan."

  "I don't see why she shouldn't want to marry Dr. Doug," Freda corrected. "Any woman would be lucky to get him."She turned to Burke. "Deputy, you came up here. You're planning on staying, aren't you?" Then with an expectant look, she glanced back and forth between Burke and Keely.

  Keely spilled her coffee. Freda, no.

  Burke glanced at Keely. "I'm staying here."

  Pressing her napkin to the spilled coffee on her antique tablecloth, Keely tried to ignore the warmth that flooded her face.

  "Well, I'm glad you came, Deputy, and I'm glad the new doctor is coming," Gus said. "Now maybe we could find somewhere to ship old Veda McCracken. She's lost her mind...."

  Not surprisingly, no one in the county had believed Veda's story that Grady had set the fire at the Family Closet, though the discontented woman still maintained—loudly— that she'd seen him do it. Keely's father had threatened to sue Veda for slander, but she held to her story. No one listened to Veda. Who could believe anything she said?

  But every once in a while, Keely recalled all the times Veda had spied on the thrift shop with her binoculars. Could Grady really heap hardship on those who need help, try to hurt me so much? Her heart ached since it was a very good possibility.

  Clearing his throat, Old Doc asked for everyone's reports on his or her part of the "Day on the Town," the fundraiser that would take place the Saturday before Christmas.

  Freda started. "All the merchants in LaFollette are participating again. Ten percent of all sales will go to the new doctor fund."

  "I talked to the student council," Shane reported, "and we decided that we'd go ahead and do our same Paint the Town part of the fundraiser. Kids will get pledges and then paint store windows in town with Christmas scenes before the Saturday night fundraiser. Everyone who comes downtown will get a ballot and can vote for their favorite windows just like last year. There will be prizes in several categories." Shane shrugged. "That's it. Everyone has a job and will do it."

  "The student council did an excellent job last year," Keely spoke up. She found herself studying the way Burke sat so relaxed. It must be nice to be so detached. "The local churches are also planning," she proceeded doggedly, "to go caroling through the streets during the day, adding to the festive spirit." Her mind juxtaposed that snowy holiday scene from last December with the blackened thrift shop.

  Ever since the fire, both Grady and Nick had been sullen. No trouble, but no peace for her or Burke. Had the two teens decided to just get through the rest of the school year and then leave? Or had one of them frightened himself by setting such a destructive fire? Could she stop worrying now or should she worry even more? What would either of them or some unsuspected arsonist do for an encore? How could Burke appear to be totally without worry?

  "Excellent work," Old Doc said. "I think that settles everything."

  The party broke up. She wished she could summon up some enthusiasm. But something inside her had gone up in smoke with the thrift shop.

  Keely showed everyone through the house, and Burke trailed along behind them. The hair on her nape prickled with awareness of him. She fought the attraction, a losing battle. Every time this week when she walked into her foyer, she felt Burke's arms around her, comforting her the night of the fire.

  Old Doc pulled Keely aside while Freda and Gus argued about how wide her walk-in closet was. "How soon can you open a temporary Family Closet? I've got patients in need of clothing. Winter's coming."

  Guilt nearly strangled her. Yes, winter was nearly upon them and people needed coats. "We've placed an ad in the next three issues of the Steadfast Times begging for donations, especially outerwear for winter. It's bad timing. People are getting ready for the holidays. They're not in a spring cleaning mood. And many had already donated."

  "Where will you set up?"

  "The Family Closet board has rented that empty storefront next to Kainz's Bar and Grill in Steadfast. We're cleaning and getting it ready as fast as we can."

  "I know you're doing your best." Old Doc gave her a hug. "You need to take a rest. I shouldn't have asked you. You looked stressed. I hope you're planning on kicking back over Christmas."

  I wish.

  Over his shoulder, Keely saw that Burke's gaze never wavered from her face.

  One by one, Old Doc, Gus, Freda, and finally Shane took their leave, going out into the frosty night till only Burke and Keely remained. She was standing in front of her glowing fireplace. Though enfolded in its lush warmth, Keely shivered with uncertainty. Why hadn't Burke bolted at the first opportunity? Ever since Burke had arrived at the first school board meeting he'd never stayed with her a minute longer than necessary.

  Now Keely stood beside him in the quiet. His presence began to seep deeper inside her, just like the heat from the hearth. Being near Burke Sloan was different than being near anyone else she'd ever known. When she stood close to him, everything around her became focused, vivid, intense. The lingering scent of vanilla candles burning on the mantel. The flickering light and shadows from the fire. The serene blue of Burke's eyes gazing at her, soothing her. At the same time, all her senses danced to life—all because Burke paused in front of the hearth with her.

  A log in the fireplace crumbled, making a soft rustling. Burke's heart did a quick thump within his chest. He stared at Keely, the radiance from the fire casting half her fair face in shadow.

  Keely's eyes still held the horror he'd seen in them at the thrift store fire. Watching her suffer brought feelings from deep inside him, feelings he barely recognized. I'm rusty at this. I can't remember how to ...what to say.He trembled with the thought. Maybe he should just concentrate on making life easier for her. What can I do for her?

  Harlan's words repeated in his mind: "Don't waste love." He shied away from this. But he still wanted to do something for this brave woman. Realizing the answer was right in front of him, Burke braced himself. "Keely, I noticed when we did the big tour that you need some painting and wallpaper here and there." He motioned toward the walls of the room.

  "Are you ...volunteering?" She stared at him.

  "I'm volunteering Nick and myself for odd jobs the weekend before Thanksgiving. Nick's mom is coming up to see us for the holiday."

  Her brows drew together, wrinkling her forehead. "That's thoughtful, but I can't let you use up your time like that."

  He saw the hesitation in her large eyes and forgot his own. "I want to help you."

  She tilted her head, watching him with wariness.

  All the tender feelings he had for her moved him nearer her, irresistible. The inches between them became charged, alive with energy. He lifted her chin with his hand, her skin velvety against his. Touching her worked on him, deepening his tone, roughening the words in his throat. "Let me help you."

  She didn't reply, but he noticed the softening in her eyes. He brushed a few wisps of hair off her smooth, soft cheek. The urge to hold her close was strong. But she had never given him any sign that she wanted that. He tried to make himself pull back. He couldn't.

  He waited now—not wanting to repeat that first reckless kiss. He'd trespassed then. He wouldn't again. Yet his feet wouldn't move away.

  Keely studied his face as though trying to read him. He lost himself in her luminous eyes. Everything in him shouted, "Take her in your arms!" But he fought it. He had no right to hold her. And if he did fold her close, he would kiss her a second time for sure.

  The wind outside buffeted the windows in a soft swish-hush. It echoed the beat of his heart, the pulse at her temples. They stood in a silence, so close, so intimate. He cupped both her slender shoulders in his hands, his fingers squeezing, trying to communicate his tender feelings toward her through the knit of h
er sweater.

  The moment of togetherness stretched, Burke gazing into the hazel eyes of this lovely, sweet woman. So many misunderstood her—all because of her father and his reputation and clout. How Burke longed to shield her. He didn't deserve her. I want what you want, Keely. What do you want? Again, Harlan's words: Don't waste love came. Without meaning to, he tugged her ever so slightly toward him.

  Her only response was a sudden relaxing of the tension he felt in her shoulders. Accepting this sign, he brought her closer, inch by inch. Not permitting himself to embrace her, he bent his forehead against hers. "Keely," he whispered, her warm breath fanning against his cheek. Warning bells clanged inside him, telling him to pull back. "Keely, I—"

  Ring!

  The phone. Burke nearly cursed.

  Breaking their contact, Keely reached for the phone on a nearby table. After listening a few moments, she turned to him, not meeting his eyes. "It's the sheriff's department." She offered him the receiver.

  Regretting the sharp separation from her, Burke took the phone. "Sloan here."

  As he listened to the unwelcome news that he was needed to finish a shift for a man who'd come down with the flu, Burke studied her. He hung up. Everything in him yearned to stay here with this woman. If he didn't leave immediately, he wouldn't leave at all. "I'd better be going."

  She followed him to the entry way. There he struggled with himself. Should he tell her what he had felt? No. He made himself leave her in the doorway without taking her into his arms again.

  He glanced back. She stood with her arms folded against the autumn chill, watching him walk away. The image stirred him. Why was this wonderful woman living here alone? His desire to let her know his feelings for her strengthened. Yet he walked away, a coward.

  Chapter Twelve

  Very early on Wednesday, a blustery November morning at the LF Cafe, Keely looked across the booth at her father. He'd called and ominously told her to report home for breakfast. She had countered that he meet her here for breakfast. She might be a coward but she was smart enough to know that this setting would set some limit on her father's demands. Or that's what she'd hoped. Now she knew she'd underestimated her father. "Why," she demanded in an undertone, "are you talking to me about this?"

  "I told you Grady has been accepted at Hawley College out East. He just has to graduate."

  "I know. I heard you the first time. I'm happy for him." Feeling drained, Keely felt like folding her arms on the table and resting her head on them. "Again, why are you talking to me and not Grady about his needing to graduate?"

  The cafe had begun to fill up. Toward the front, loud greetings were exchanged as the regulars arrived. The buzz of conversation increased in volume.

  Her father glared at her, pressing his lips together as though holding in his aggravation. "You know why I'm talking to you," he snapped. "I need you to make sure he graduates."

  She stared at him, trying to believe that he'd actually put this demand into bald-faced words. "I shouldn't be surprised that you are trying to make this my business. And I don't really want to waste time arguing with you." I can't. I don't have the strength. She'd expected a rough year with Grady at LaFollette, but nothing like this. Did her father live in a dream world? "Grady will graduate if he attends class and does his schoolwork. It's that simple. That's how I graduated from high school."

  The bell on the cafe door jingled and jingled again. Someone thumped down into the booth seat that backed hers. A migraine was gathering strength at the base of her skull.

  "You were different from Grady." Her father grimaced. "Girls mature earlier than boys—"

  "That may be part of it." She held on to the frayed ends of her patience. "But Grady is in deep trouble. I think he's trying to get your attention—"

  "I've given him my attention—"

  "Only when he does something like fighting at school or getting suspended."

  "It's all that new kid's fault." Her father swept Grady's misbehavior away with a hand.

  "New kid? Nick?" Why was she surprised? Of course, blame couldn't attach to a Turner no matter what.

  "That's right. That deputy's nephew. If he hadn't come here, Grady would be doing fine."

  The morning waitress was bringing around the coffee pot. Keely hoped they weren't being overheard. Keely stared at her father, wondering how someone could indulge in that much self-deception. "Did Nick get Grady kicked out of four prep schools?"

  Her father's face reddened. "That's enough."

  "You're right." She stood up. "I'm not going to argue with you. If you want Grady to graduate, you talk to him. If nothing else, bribe him." She couldn't help herself; her father's manipulation had pushed her over the emotional edge. Sarcasm tinged her voice. "Maybe a Porsche will do it."

  The waitress stopped in her tracks, staring at them.

  "I'm not finished talking to you, young lady. I want you to stop seeing Sloan," her father blustered. "He just doesn't cut it with your mother and me—"

  She turned and walked away before she said anything else she would regret.

  Her father didn't have to tell her to stay away from Burke. She'd already decided that on her own. The county was already arrayed against Nick and Burke. They were convenient scapegoats. Any interest she showed in Burke would only make his situation more sticky. The bad feelings toward her family would be transferred onto him.

  Worse, if she showed more interest in Burke, her father would go further and do whatever he could to impugn both of their reputations. There was just too much standing between her and Burke. A glimpse of memory, the moments they'd spent close in front of her fireplace. Silent moments. Neither of them had even put into words their obvious feelings for one another. Though from the gossip being spread about them, who would believe that?

  Outdoors in the brisk wind, Keely's heart thundered in her ears and she felt a little lightheaded. She'd suspected all along that her father had set her up as principal; it was the only way he could get Grady through high school and back East and out of his hair. But hearing him say it had landed yet another blow to Keely's emotions.

  If this isn't any surprise, why am I shaking? I can't take much more. And if her brother continued behaving as he had so far, a miracle might be the only way to get him graduated in the spring.

  The thought that her own brother might have set fire to the thrift shop, a charity she'd poured her heart and money into, wrapped around her lungs like a tight band. Could he hate me that much? Or is he just blind to what he might have caused? I don't want Grady to be guilty. But I don't want Nick to be responsible either.

  Her mind cast around for another likely suspect. Walachek? Did he still resent her for interfering with his daughter? Had he resented having to help roof the Family Closet? Was this payback? But Walachek wasn't the only one who had a grudge against the outreach and her.

  What if the fire at the Family Closet and the ones at school had been set by different people? Burke had suggested that the thrift store fire might have been the work of a copycat.

  Keely's thoughts leaped to another possibility. Veda McCracken had pointed the finger at Grady. Had she tired of just spying on the thrift shop and taken direct action against the Family Closet? Was that so far-fetched? She'd stolen money from the new doctor fund last year. And she let no opportunity pass to make trouble. Was her insistence that Grady had set the fire a cover up to hide the fact that she had set it herself?

  Keely opened her SUV door and got in. Resting her forehead on the cold steering wheel, she prayed wordlessly, her wounded spirit moaning.

  Burke stood at the end of Main Street. He'd watched Keely flee the cafe and go to her car and sit, head down. Now he saw Turner stalk from the cafe, get in his luxury car and drive away like ripe vengeance were chasing him. What did you do to upset your daughter now?All the emotions Burke had been trying to keep undercover boiled up. I have to do something about this, about Keely, about my feelings for her.

  The Saturday before Thanksgi
ving, Keely and Burke worked together in her family room. She held the metal chalk dispenser against the wall at its midpoint while he drew out the chalk line all the way to the other end of the wall from where she stood.

  When Nick, Jayleen, Burke, and Harlan had appeared at her door earlier, she'd tried to talk Burke, all of them, out of spending their day helping her. But Harlan had overruled her. So here she was, working with Burke, her resolve to keep her distance from him melting in the late afternoon sunshine, splashed gold against one wall. But for the first time in weeks, she didn't feel so ...alone.

  Burke's presence had ignited a glow inside her. An uneasy one, she tried not to let show. Matters with this man remained tenuous. But when he was with her, she alternately felt shipwrecked and stranded and then safe and protected.

  Burke had volunteered to help her with odd jobs around the house, but Keely was still surprised that he had actually shown up. And all the more perplexing, she sensed some change in him.

  "Ready?" Burke asked, looking at her down the length of the chalk-coated string, intense concentration on his face.

  She took a deep breath. Ready? Ready for what, Burke? She nodded, hoping he hadn't noticed his effect on her.

  "Okay." He snapped the string and a dusty line of purple chalk marked the wall with a straight line. "Excellent." He straightened up.

  Keely echoed, "Excellent." That's how she was feeling—excellent, but excellent while balancing on the tightrope of her attraction to Burke. Would she fall off and break their peace today?

  Jayleen's and Nick's teasing voices floated in through the doorway. Harlan was supervising the teens, who were painting her bathroom.

  "They sound like they're having fun," Keely commented, trying to hide the impression that she was on the brink of something, but what?

  "What could be more fun than painting?" Burke gave her a crooked grin. "And at your principal's house too?"