Wendy Lindstrom

by Kissing in the Dark

  “Is that a polite way of telling me it’s none of my business?”

  A sick feeling rippled through his stomach, but he’d made a promise not to lie. “Your brother thinks I gave a parasol to Rebecca because I’m trying to court her.”

  The sheriff’s eyebrows lowered, but he seemed confused instead of angry. “Did you tell Rebecca you wanted to court her?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Did you give her a parasol?”

  “No.”

  “Are you being truthful with me?”

  “Yes,” Adam said, clenching his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

  “All right then.” The sheriff gave him a nod as if to say Adam shouldn’t worry about this. “I’ll talk to Radford.”

  “You believe me?” he asked, shocked.

  “Yes, Adam. I’m trusting you to be truthful with me. Now go on and cast that line. I’d like some fish for my supper.”

  Stunned, mind reeling, Adam obeyed, but his hook had barely hit the water when the rod dipped.

  The sheriff gripped the pole and gave it a quick upward thrust. “You got him.”

  “A fish?”

  “Either that or a mermaid.”

  Adam winced at his stupid question. “Should I reel him in?”

  The sheriff released the rod and shook his head. “This fella wants to run. We’ll have to tire him out before we net him.”

  The fish was pulling so hard he was towing the boat! Adam panicked. “I don’t know what to do.” His heart pounded and he tried to hand the rod to the sheriff, who wouldn’t take it.

  “Just keep your grip firm and don’t let him run the line out.” He looked at the reel, then at Adam. “When the line slackens, reel it in. If he fights hard, give him a bit of line to run with. He’ll get tired before you do.”

  The reel spun as the fish fought the hook. Adam locked his fingers around the rod, reeling when the sheriff said to reel, holding steady when the sheriff warned him to hold the line. Sweat burned his eyes, and his heart banged wildly in his chest, but he didn’t let go of the rod. The sun glared on the water and made his eyes tear, and half the time he couldn’t tell whether the fish was zigging or zagging.

  “I’ll bet it’s a bass,” the sheriff said.

  More like a whale, but Adam knew there were no whales in Lake Erie.

  Whatever it was, it wanted loose. Adam kept a firm grip on the rod, sweating and reeling and praying, until finally, he landed the fish.

  The sheriff let out a low whistle as he lifted the net and plopped the biggest fish Adam had ever seen into the bottom of the boat. “Looks like you’ll be bringing home supper tonight.” He propped his elbow on his knee and grinned at Adam. “Good job, son.”

  Sweat stung Adam’s eyes and his arms ached like they’d been wrenched from his shoulder sockets, but he felt ten feet tall.

  Chapter 19

  Wayne Archer thumped his fist on his counter. “I’m telling you, Sheriff Grayson, the parasol was stolen. We displayed it in that stand right by the door, and Miss Richards has had her eye on it for two weeks. It was our fanciest sunshade, and I can assure you I would remember selling it.”

  Duke rolled his shoulder to ease the tension that was climbing his neck. “Could Mrs. Archer have sold the parasol?”

  “Certainly. That’s why I checked with her. My wife didn’t sell it.”

  “Did you sell it, Nicholas?” Duke asked Archer’s son, the boy involved in the incident at school with Adam and Rebecca.

  “No, sir.”

  Wayne scowled. “I’ve asked all the necessary questions, Sheriff. We conducted a thorough search of our store and could not locate it. The parasol was stolen.”

  “All right.” Duke sighed, wondering if he’d been wrong to trust Adam. Damn it, he didn’t want to be wrong about the boy. “I’ll need a list of everyone who has been in your store since Saturday.”

  Wayne’s chin dropped. “That’s impossible. Nearly everyone in Fredonia frequents my apothecary.”

  “It’s only Monday, Wayne. Surely you can remember who came in on Saturday and today?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” he said belligerently.

  “As a candidate for sheriff, you must know how important it is to have a good memory. If you can’t name the people who have been in your store—”

  “I can name every one of them.”

  “Good. I’ll come by in the morning for your list.”

  “I’ll have it ready. Not that it will do any good.”

  Archer had publicly condemned Duke for allowing two swindles to take place in town. After the unfortunate incident with Henry Oakley, the farmer, Duke had warned the residents not to sign notes for anybody, but Ernie Lorenzo did it anyhow and got swindled. Now Archer would add petty theft to the list of crimes Duke hadn’t stopped. The man was as relentless as a mosquito, and Duke had to walk out of the apothecary before he squashed the annoying bastard.

  The man who’d swindled Oakley and Lorenzo was probably several towns away by now, working his cons on other unsuspecting farmers. Duke had sent a telegram with the man’s description and crime to every township in the county, and one to Buffalo, and another to Erie, Pennsylvania. That was all he could do unless the man came back to town. The parasol incident was an altogether different issue, though, and one that nagged him as he walked to his family’s sawmill in Laona.

  Who, other than Adam, would give Rebecca a stolen parasol?

  When Duke got to the mill, Radford was howling with laughter. Boyd’s hands were lifted as if proclaiming his innocence, but the look in his eye said he was guilty as hell. That’s when Duke noticed the soaked front of Kyle’s shirt.

  Kyle set an empty water jar on a drag of maple logs, then stalked Boyd. “If you ever again stick a board up my ass when I’m drinking, I’ll beat you with the damned thing.”

  Boyd gave him a lopsided grin. “I gave you a goose to see if you were awake.”

  “I’ll show you how awake I am.”

  Boyd danced away from Kyle’s swinging fists. Radford braced his ax on the ground, laughing himself to tears. Duke stood outside their circle, chuckling at Boyd’s shenanigans, but feeling removed from their horseplay. He had been missing too many of their conversations and jokes to fit in. He watched with envy as Boyd and Kyle laughed and wrestled in the sawdust pile.

  Radford went back to chopping bark off a maple tree, but stopped when Duke approached him. “You need something?”

  Duke shook his head. Radford would give him money, a warm place to stay, even his own body to protect his back, but Duke didn’t need any of those things. He needed to fit in here, and to be connected with his brothers. “I just wanted to thank you for helping me frame up Faith’s house.”

  “You’d do it for me.”

  Duke would do anything for his brothers. That’s how it was with them; they shared the load. Always had. Always would.

  “I’m courting her, you know.”

  Radford grinned. “Is that what all that drooling was about last week?”

  As brothers, they had smart-mouthed each other all their lives, but Duke couldn’t join in today. The situation with Adam bothered him too much.

  “If I marry her, Adam Dearborn will become part of our family.”

  “Whoa!” The humor fled Radford’s eyes. “You’ve known this woman a month maybe? You’re falling a little fast, aren’t you?”

  He was. He knew that. But he also knew Faith was the woman he wanted to marry, and that he’d lose the chance if he didn’t move fast. Faith and her aunts were the talk of the town, and any eligible man would jump at the chance to make Faith his wife. Her financial situation wouldn’t allow her a lengthy courtship. She needed a husband and provider now, and would be forced to marry soon. She wouldn’t have to wait or look elsewhere because Duke was eager to marry her. He wanted her companionship, her passion, her love. He wanted what his brothers had with their wives.

  “Marriage will bring you more than a full-time bed-partner, Duke. You’ll
be responsible for her aunts and her children. That’s a hell of a load to take on your shoulders, although I suspect Adam could benefit from a little guidance. That boy has a worldly, troubled look in his eyes that concerns me. And it should concern you too, if you’re really planning on marrying his sister.”

  Duke’s sheriff’s pay, added to a generous income from the mill, would allow him to support all of them. Radford, who got an equal cut of the mill profits, would know that; he was just jumping to unfair conclusions about Adam and couching his bias in concern for Duke’s financial welfare. “Faith is his guardian. The boy’s mother died two months ago.”

  Radford’s shoulders lowered and compassion replaced the wariness in his eyes. “That’s a shame. I feel for the boy.”

  “Then let him be friends with Rebecca. He just moved to town, and she’s the only person who has been friendly to him.”

  “He’s being too friendly. He’s giving Rebecca gifts.”

  “Adam said he didn’t give her the parasol.”

  “Rebecca thinks he did.”

  “Did she see him leave it? Or did he tell her he left it?”

  “No.”

  “Then it’s unfair to assume he’s guilty. The parasol was stolen from Archer’s Apothecary.”

  Radford blew out a breath. “Which makes this situation even worse.”

  “Which means it could have been left by anyone. Or perhaps Rebecca got it for herself.”

  Radford’s eyes sparked with insult and outrage. “If you’re insinuating that my daughter would—”

  “Of course not. I’m just pointing out that other possibilities exist.”

  “Well, I don’t like any of them. And I’m sorry for Adam, but I don’t want him around Rebecca. He needs to find a boy his age who can be his friend.”

  “What’s so threatening about him befriending Rebecca?”

  “He’s leading her astray. She never was in trouble at school until she met Adam. And now she has a stolen parasol in her possession.”

  The irritation in Radford’s voice brought Kyle and Boyd over. Kyle brushed sawdust off his clothes. “What’s going on over here?”

  “I invited Faith and the children to the mill this evening,” Duke said, but kept his eyes on Radford. “If you can’t be cordial, stay the hell away from them.”

  “I never said I disliked the boy. I dislike his pursuit of Rebecca. I’m only guilty of being a father.”

  “Wrong, Radford. You’re being narrow-minded and overprotective as always.”

  Radford’s face reddened. “Maybe so, but at least my thinking isn’t clouded by lust.”

  “You think this is about lust?”

  “I think you and the lady should spend some time alone before you put your neck in a noose.”

  Duke took a menacing step forward. His feelings for Faith went far beyond lust, and he felt insulted on her behalf.

  Boyd stepped between them, clapping his hands over their shoulders. “If your bickering is going to lead to a fight, you two are leaving me in a real quandary here. I would wager on Radford winning, but then our good sheriff puffs up like a boiler ready to burst a seam and makes me reconsider. How’s a man to make a good wager when you’re both such hotheads?”

  “No one is going to fight,” Radford said, turning back to work as if nothing had happened.

  Kyle nudged Duke’s sore shoulder. “Before you overheat, I can use some of that steam to help move this timber.”

  And so they went to work. Duke fumed silently, pissed at Radford, pissed at himself. Faith was deserving of more respect. She and the children would hopefully become part of his family soon, and Radford needed to lose his attitude.

  Adam did need a guiding hand, but what thirteen-year-old boy didn’t? Adam wouldn’t compromise Rebecca. Even if he tried, Rebecca was smart enough to walk away. Radford wasn’t giving her enough credit, and that annoyed Duke too.

  Pain sawed at his shoulder while he pounded grappling hooks into a drag of pine logs. He liked owning and working the mill, but his shoulder resented the hard effort tonight. He couldn’t afford to lose the generous stream of income it brought him, but more important, he couldn’t lose the connection it gave him with his brothers. And that’s why his argument with Radford grated on him.

  He wanted his family to approve of Faith. She was a beautiful, smart woman running a decent business. Anna Levens had assured him that Faith and her aunts were honest women, and that nothing untoward was going on at the greenhouse behind his back. He was proud of Faith’s gardening abilities and her talent with healing. And he wanted to marry her, damn it.

  Kyle nudged Duke’s thigh with his hand maul, then pointed it toward the road. “You have visitors.”

  The instant Duke saw Faith, his anger drained away. Cora ran across the yard to meet him. “Can I ride the horses?” she asked, her eyes fixed on the team of Percherons that were pulling a drag of timber to the sawmill.

  He chucked her under the chin. “Sorry, princess. You can’t ride these beasts, but I know something you’ll like even better.” He walked her to a mountain of sawdust. “You can climb all the way to the top if you want to.” His boyhood experience proved it unlikely she would get halfway up; climbing the pile of pea-sized wood chips was like climbing an hourglass filled with sand.

  Cora dove in hands first and gave the sawdust pile her full attention.

  Faith and Adam walked up. “No wonder you wanted me to see this,” Faith said, her pretty eyes taking in the buildings and mountains of stacked lumber and hewn trees in the yard.

  He’d wanted her to see that he had plenty to offer, that he could support her and her family, but now that Radford had slapped him awake, it seemed like a dumb idea. He didn’t want Faith, or any woman, to marry him for security any more than he wanted to marry because of lust. He would gladly support a wife, but he wanted the passion and love that burned between his brothers and their wives.

  If Faith married him for security it wouldn’t be enough for either of them.

  Faith frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” he said, but everything was wrong because all he could think about was kissing her. Was this intense need just lust?

  He could slug Radford for planting doubt in his head.

  “The heat in your eyes could ignite your lumberyard,” she whispered, continuing the flirtatious game they’d been playing for two weeks.

  He wanted to touch her and kiss her and make love to her every night for the rest of his life. He’d never felt more sure of anything. His gut insisted Faith was the one. And Radford could go to hell if he didn’t approve.

  Sighing, he knelt down and had Adam lift Cora onto his shoulders. She didn’t weigh more than a full picnic basket, but his sore shoulder wouldn’t allow him to lift her above his head. He walked her and the others past towering pallets of stacked lumber and piles of hewn timber being readied for the saw.

  Cora waved at the horses as Kyle drove their team of Percherons to the barn for the night. Adam was so busy exclaiming over the size of the mill when they entered the office, he walked into the statue of Duke’s father.

  “Sorry sir,” he said, before he realized he’d just apologized to a huge wooden carving. “Gosh, it looks just like a real person.”

  Duke chuckled at the boy’s surprise. “Don’t be embarrassed. That statue surprises everybody. My brother Boyd is a master carver. He made the statue in my father’s likeness to honor him. My dad started this mill thirty-five years ago with an ax and a band saw?’

  “That’s your dad?” Cora asked from her perch on Duke’s shoulders.

  Faith reached up and straightened Cora’s stocking. “It’s a statue that looks like his dad, sweetheart.”

  “What’s all this stuff on the walls?” Adam asked, inspecting a circular saw blade hanging from a metal hook.

  “We keep our parts here so we can find them when we need them.”

  He let Adam inspect the tools and saws and grapple hooks that lined the wall,
understanding the boy’s keen interest. One of Duke’s earliest memories was gaping at all the strange, exciting items displayed like a wall of toys. They weren’t playthings of course, but as a boy, anything that could cut, shoot, or pound made his hands itch to use it.

  “Come on. I’ll show you how those blades work.” He took them into the mill building, and they clapped their hands over their ears. Adam watched the huge circular blade in awe, Faith gaped in fear, and Cora rocked her legs as if telling Duke to giddy-up and get out of there.

  They stayed long enough to watch the head sawyer slab a maple, then hurried outside away from the screaming noise.

  Adam turned in a slow circle to survey the mill. “I want to work here.” He faced Duke, his expression enthralled. “I’ll do anything. I’ll shovel sawdust, or carry lumber, or anything at all.”

  Faith shook her head. “It’s too dangerous for you.”

  “My brothers and I worked here as soon as we could fetch and carry,” Duke told her. He took Cora back to the sawdust pile where she dove in with childish delight. “I started learning how to run the saw when I was Adam’s age.”

  Faith pointed at the mill. “That big saw? In there?”

  He nodded.

  “Good heavens.” She pressed her hand to her stomach as if the thought alone made her nauseous.

  “I wouldn’t let Adam near the blade,” he said, causing both Faith and Adam to react—Faith with horror, Adam with wild optimism in his eyes.

  Faith shook her head. “This is no place for a boy”

  Adam’s expression fell, but he kept quiet, his eyes begging Duke to convince her otherwise.

  “I have to talk to my brothers first, but we have plenty of safe jobs for a boy Adam’s age.” And Radford couldn’t deny they needed an intelligent boy with a strong back around the mill.

  Faith surveyed the lumberyard as if seeking evidence of a safe job. Adam looked for Duke’s brothers, who were in the yard finishing up for the day. Duke could tell when Adam spotted Radford; the optimism drained from the boy’s face and he hung his head.

  “Never mind,” Adam said. “I have a job at the store, and Faith needs me at the greenhouse.”