Lark came to sit down by Faith. “Open it,” she urged gently.
Faith hesitated, then lifted the lid and found a smaller, hand-carved, circular box. She took it out and lifted the top to find a small, polished turquoise stone in the shape of a teardrop lying on a bed of white velvet.
“It’s a memory stone,” Lark said as she reached to pluck it out of the box and hold it up for Faith to see. “It stores up only good memories, and when things are hard or stressful,” she told Faith as she closed Faith’s fingers around the stone, “you can hold on to it and remember the best of times.”
Faith wanted so dearly to believe this—that she really could store up good memories for when she was alone and scared. When she needed someone the likes of whom she’d never see again.
Adam laid his hand over hers, his fingers closing on hers, warm and gentle. “My grandfather, Jackson Wolf, found these stones when he was clearing the land years ago to build the original adobe north of here. He found enough for each child and each grandchild as they came along.”
Faith looked at him. “I can’t take this.”
“Of course you can. He made them for friends, too.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “He polished them and made the boxes, as well.” He let go of her and reached for the open neck of his shirt. He pushed his forefinger under his collar, then pulled back and he’d hooked a silver chain with a stone identical to the one she was holding. “I got mine when I was ten. The old man gave them when folks needed them, not at any set time or age.” He tucked it back under his shirt. “Mom wants you to have that, so you must need it.”
Faith exhaled, quickly put the stone back into the box and held on to it tightly. “Thank you so much,” she said to Lark in a voice that wasn’t entirely steady. She stood. “I’m sorry, but I really need to get back.”
Adam said nothing, and Lark simply gave her a hug and stepped back. “You are welcome here whenever you are in Wolf Lake.”
“Thank you,” she said, and R.J. was there with her jacket.
Adam held the jacket for her, then as she put it on, he lightly smoothed her shoulders. She picked up her purse but kept the box in her free hand.
Once in the truck, Faith sat very still, feeling the pressure of her grip on the box as they headed back to the inn. Adam glanced at her but didn’t speak until the ranch was behind them in the darkness. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine, but I feel badly that I didn’t have anything for your mother.” That was true, but so insignificant compared to what was going on inside her at that point.
“Believe me, she didn’t expect anything.”
What Faith thought of as an evening to get through had turned out to be so overwhelming that she could barely absorb it. “Thank you for taking me,” she said. Memories for the stone, she thought. Already she was storing them up for a future so uncertain that it frightened her.
His hand unexpectedly reached out to cover hers holding the box. “You’re upset,” he said, not a question, but a statement.
“I’m just... I didn’t expect anything like the party. I thought it was dinner, but your family, goodness, they were everywhere, and your mother was terrific, even though your dad’s been so sick. And I shouldn’t have gone.”
“Why?”
The single word froze her in place. Everything in her wanted to just tell him the truth, to get it out and let things fall where they may, but another part was terrified of doing that. She’d put him in such a bad position. He’d have to turn her in. He’d have to call the Feds and tell them where she was. And if he didn’t, if he chose not to, he would be putting everything he had on the line. His job, maybe even his own freedom.
She glanced at Adam, thankful he was watching the road, and she admitted to herself right then that she could love him. He was the type of man she’d hoped to meet one day, but now... “I shouldn’t even be here. If my car hadn’t broken down, I’d be long gone.”
“To where?”
“I don’t know. Someplace,” she said and drew away from his touch. She couldn’t stand it when all she wanted to do was hold on to him. “Anywhere.”
They were coming to the town, and Adam drew back to clutch the wheel with both hands. “To Illinois?”
She looked away, her heart hammering. “No, I can’t. I mean, I don’t want to.” That was such a lie. When she’d said she couldn’t, that had been the truth.
“Why? What’s going on there that made you leave in the first place?”
He’d hit the jackpot and she couldn’t even form the words to answer him. She knew he’d turned to look at her, but he didn’t speak again. He just waited and drove. “Just problems,” she finally said and moved closer to the door.
Adam was silent until they got to the inn and he pulled in to park. He left the truck idling and rested his arm along the back of the seat. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
More than anything, but she couldn’t. It was her life and her mess, and she wouldn’t drag him into it. She knew he was an honorable man, that integrity would be everything to him, and if she was so self-indulgent as to spill everything, it would destroy even the memories she was going to leave with.
“No.”
“All right...maybe, someday, if you come back to Wolf Lake, I can take you to the old man’s land where he found the turquoise or we can go up to the lake. When the snow’s gone.”
She swallowed hard and didn’t say anything. He knew she wouldn’t be back. He must know that, but he kept up the charade. When the snow was gone, she’d be nowhere around here, and he’d just be a memory stored in a beautiful stone.
“You...you’re going back to Dallas, aren’t you?”
Adam seemed taken aback by that, but said, “For now, and you’re driving off into the unknown.”
She grimaced at his words. They were the stark truth. She was going into the unknown and she’d be doing it alone. Her choice, totally. And just because she cared so much about Adam, she knew that was her only choice.
She felt the seat shift and she thought Adam was getting out, but he wasn’t. He came closer to her, his hand lowering to the nape of her neck and his other hand lifted to cup her chin. “You don’t have to do this, whatever it is, by yourself,” he said on a strangled whisper.
She felt the burn of tears again, but this time she didn’t try to fight them. She knew she couldn’t win. They slipped down her cheeks as she looked up at Adam. She didn’t just care about this man—she loved him. Heaven help her, but she’d found that love that she knew instinctively was her one and only, and she’d have to walk away.
“Hey,” he said, his warm breath brushing across her skin. “Don’t cry, please.” His lips found hers.
The contact filled her world, pushing out everything, including her sanity. His fingers stroked her hair, her cheek, and for one moment of pure need, she answered his kiss with hers. Everything she felt was in that connection, then she made herself stop.
She pushed back, collected her things and fumbled with the handle until the door swung open. “Faith,” Adam said, “I meant it. I want to help.”
“Goodbye,” she said in a rush as she slipped out and her feet hit the snowy ground. She got to the door of the inn and made the mistake of looking back. Adam was still in the truck, his hands on the steering wheel, just watching her, not moving.
“Goodbye,” she whispered into the wind and went inside.
She hurried across to the stairs and didn’t pause, hoping to get up to her room without seeing anyone. She made it, got the door open and stepped inside when she heard someone downstairs. She took several breaths to calm her heartbeat, then sat down on the bed, and dropping her purse on the floor at her feet, she opened the carved box and took out the stone.
The perfectly polished turquoise lay on her open palm, and now she understood why it was shaped like a teardrop. Closing her hand around the small stone, she cried.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A
DAM
HAD
GONE
over and over what he could do and what he would do until dawn came, and he put in a call to his partner in Dallas. He gave him a list of things to track down for him, and after showering and dressing, he went into the main house to check on his dad, then wished he hadn’t.
Herbert Carson was in a foul mood, complaining about the fact that he couldn’t drive yet and that he needed to rest. Being a recovering alcoholic had given an edge to his dad that flared up from time to time, but he’d never lost his sobriety. Adam finally left, knowing his mother would keep his father in line, and he had things to do.
He’d thought about this all night. While he drove to town, he checked in with his partner, Ray, in Dallas and wasn’t surprised to find out that Baron Little was the head of Faith’s father’s defense team. But there was little else that Ray had found. That was okay with Adam; he didn’t want Ray any more involved, especially if this came to a head.
Still, Ray promised to keep checking on the list. When Adam got to Main Street, he stopped at the inn. He didn’t give up on much that was important to him, professionally and personally. That was an asset as a cop and in his personal life. He wasn’t about to give up on Jack. He wasn’t going to give up on Faith, either. He had until four o’clock, when Dent would release her car, and he intended to make those hours count.
While he waited for answers from Ray, he wasn’t going to stop hoping that Faith might confide in him. He got out of the truck and went inside the inn. Mallory was there, writing in the ledger on the desk. “Hey, there,” Adam said, going over to her. “Is Faith upstairs?”
“No, she left.”
He heart lurched. “She’s gone?”
“She went to the general store, then Dent’s to push him to get her car finished.”
“She’s still in town, then?”
“Yes, but not for long. As soon as the car’s fixed, she’s going, and Dent said he can get it done today.”
“Thanks,” Adam said, then hurried toward the door.
“Adam, do you want me to give her a message?”
He stopped and thought. “Do you have some paper and a pen?”
“Sure,” she said and took out a sheet of paper with the inn’s logo on it, and a pen.
Adam wrote a note to Faith, folded it, put it in a small envelope Mallory offered him, then sealed it. “Make sure she gets this the minute she gets back.”
“Sure,” she said and laid it on the desk. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Thanks,” he said. He left and climbed into his truck. A glance at his phone on the seat told him he’d missed a call from Ray. He called back, and Ray answered on the first ring.
“Hey, it’s me,” Adam said.
“I’ve got something. It doesn’t make much sense to me because I don’t know what you’re up to, but I thought you ought to know anyway.”
Adam listened to Ray. “Good, that’s good,” he told him. “Can you keep digging and get me a direct number for that attorney, Little?”
“Sure,” Ray muttered. “But I don’t walk on water.”
“Shoot, and here I’ve been telling everyone you do,” Adam said.
Ray hung up with a promise to get back to Adam when he found what he was looking for.
Adam looked up and down the street and couldn’t see Faith anywhere. He backed out and slowly drove toward Manaw’s Garage. When he neared it, he spotted Faith walking out from the first service bay, then turned with her head down, walking in the direction of the inn. Her hands were stuffed in her pockets, and her attention seemed to be on her boots.
He pulled in by the gas pumps, got out of the truck and cut across the gravel to head after Faith. Then he remembered the last time he’d chased her and thought better of it. She seemed intent on getting somewhere, so he backed off and just watched her walk. He’d let her go, for now.
“Adam?”
He turned and saw Dent wiping greasy hands on an equally greasy rag, coming toward him. “The car’s done,” he said in a low voice when he got close. “I just need to snap the plug wires into the harness to finish it.”
“Good. Just let it be for now, and I’ll get back to you soon. This might be done sooner than four o’clock.”
Dent nodded, but said, “You know, brother, that little lady is making me feel like the Grinch.”
“This means everything to me and I hope it will to her.”
“She’s desperate to leave this place,” Dent called after him.
“I know,” he called back.
He got in his truck, determined he knew what to do. He drove in the direction of the police station, relieved to see John’s car parked outside. He went straight to John’s office and closed the door. “I need a favor, John, a huge favor, friend to friend, nothing less.”
John looked up, took one look at Adam’s face. “What did you do?”
“That’s what I need to talk to you about, but there can’t be anyone else in on this.”
John stared hard at him, then sat back in his chair. “Sit down, friend, and tell me what’s going on.”
Adam did more. “Totally off the record?”
John didn’t hesitate. “Friend to friend,” he said.
* * *
F
AITH
WANTED
TO
SIT
in Dent’s garage and just wait for the car to be done. But she knew she couldn’t, though she didn’t want to run into anyone, either, least of all Adam. Walking alone, she kept her head low and held tightly to the carved box in her pocket. It had come to feel like a talisman for her. She concentrated on getting back to the inn without seeing anyone, but knew it was risky.
So she moved off to a side street, circled back and wound up at the inn just like before when she’d gone the wrong way. She studied the inn, then during a break in traffic, she darted across the street and got inside. No one seemed to notice her. Except for Mallory.
“Glad you got back,” she said, coming downstairs, where Faith had started up them.
Mallory waited for her to join her, then held out an envelope to her. “I was about to put this under your door before I went out. It’s from Adam.”
The envelope was light in Faith’s hand, and she wasn’t sure what to do.
“Adam said to make sure you got it.” Mallory paused at the top of the stairs. “When will you be leaving?”
“By four, I think”
“Good, I’ll try to be back by then.” Mallory hesitated. “I’m really going to miss you.”
The catch in her voice almost did Faith in. The hug that came next made it hard for Faith. “I’ll miss all of you.”
Mallory patted her back and said, “Please, come on back this way again?”
She would have loved nothing more than to come back, but she couldn’t lie. “I don’t think I can, but I’ll never forget you.”
Mallory stood back and swiped at her eyes. “Darn, I hate getting all misty.” She gave a weak smile. “You drive carefully.”
Faith nodded and, clutching the envelope, went into her room. She ignored the note while she finished packing, but when she was ready, the only thing left in the room that was hers was the note. She slowly opened it and unfolded the single sheet of paper inside.
Faith,
Don’t leave before I get there.
We have to talk.
A scrawl at the bottom must have said
Adam.
She wasn’t sure, partly because it was more style than form and partly because her eyes were blurring. She carefully folded the paper, pushed it back into the envelope. Her first instinct was to leave it there, but it was the only tangible thing of Adam’s that she had. She pushed it into the pocket of her jacket, which she was still wearing, along with the carved box.
“Done,” she said, and then she called Dent. She knew the man was tired of her pressuring him, but she didn’t hesitate to phone him again.
When he answered, she said, “Hi, this is Faith Arden.”
“Yes, I thought it might be.” She didn’t know if he was being teasing or sarcastic. She didn’t care.
“How much longer?” she asked.
“Tell you what, if you don’t call me again, I might be able to get it done sooner. That way you get what you want faster, and I’ll be in a better mood when you pay the bill.” He laughed at his own statement. “Does that sound like a deal?” he asked.
She smiled a bit herself. “Yes, that’s a deal,” she said.
“Wonderful. I’ll see you soon.”
She hung up.
So this meant that she’d be gone soon. She should have felt relieved, but oddly, she couldn’t begin to figure out what she was feeling. She glanced at the clock: 2:00 p.m. She had a couple more hours to get through.
* * *
A
DAM
CHECKED
THE
CLOCK
and had only forty-five minutes to get to Dent’s to find Faith. He walked out of John’s office, got to his truck and his phone rang. He flipped it open and answered it. “Ray, have you got it?”
“I do,” his partner said. He read off a phone number, then added, “He’s waiting for your call but can’t hang around too long.”
“I owe you,” Adam said. Once he was in the truck, he punched in the number for Baron Little’s private line. When a man answered, identifying himself as the attorney, Adam introduced himself, then told him what he wanted to do. The man listened patiently and then said, “I can’t tell you anything about the case or about my client.”
“Well, you can listen, can’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“Just listen.”
“You’ve got five minutes, and the clock is ticking.”
* * *
F
AITH
’
S
NERVES
WERE
RAW
.
She couldn’t wait any longer. Having packed all of her belongings, she went downstairs intending to ask Mallory if she could leave them there while she took one last trip to Dent’s. But Mallory wasn’t there. So she pushed her bags behind the desk and left.
She got to the garage and thought for a minute it was locked up tight. But the one bay door was up and her car was there unlocked. She was ready to call for Dent when a woman came up to her.
She looked about forty, was full-figured with dark skin and short black hair. She smiled at Faith. “Faith Arden?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Dent’s wife. He had to go to fix a flat at the last minute, and he left me here to meet you at four.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “A few minutes early, but that’s all good. I have some last minute shopping to do for the kids.” She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to Faith. “Dent said you’d settle this.”
Faith took the bill, handed Mrs. Dent the money and was rewarded by being handed the keys to her car. Within five minutes she was back at the inn, parking her perfectly running car out front and going in to get her luggage. Mallory wasn’t back yet, and no one was behind the desk, not even Willie G.
She left an envelope on the desk with her payment for what she owed for her room and included a bit extra for Mallory. She propped it against the old ledger, then took her things out to the car. It was still several minutes before four, and she waited. But Adam didn’t show up. She fingered the steering wheel, looked around, then knew she was being stupid. She had to leave.
There wasn’t any black truck racing down the street or a tall man with a Stetson striding toward her. She hadn’t wanted to see him again anyway, she reasoned as she put the car in Reverse and backed out. That was a total lie, but it was the way it should be. Over and done. Then she turned to head out of town, going northwest.
She was finally driving away from Wolf Lake, and she should be thrilled, but all Faith felt was that she was driving away from everything good in her life and everything she desperately wanted. As she passed the hospital, she pulled over and let the car idle. She took the small case out of her pocket, lifted the turquoise teardrop out of its nest and closed her fingers around it, holding it tightly in one hand. She tossed the case onto the passenger seat and drove off.
She’d go west, then north, up into Colorado. Once she found a place to stay for the night, she’d figure out where to go from there. Honestly, she didn’t care where she ended up as long as she kept to her own rules. She would never again let herself get involved with a town full of characters and a tall, dark-haired man who only showed her what she’d never have. The love of her life had come and gone, and she wasn’t so sure that she would survive in one piece. She knew her heart wouldn’t.
She kept going and found the highway heading north. The town was gone. Snow began to fall, driven by a blustery wind. Gray clouds blotted out the sunlight. She felt the turquoise in her hand and rubbed its smooth surface with her fingertips. Memories. “That’s all I have now,” she said as she went into a sharp curve and felt the car’s tires leave the pavement.
* * *
A
DAM
PULLED
AWAY
from the police station after his conversation with the attorney with only ten minutes to get to Dent’s. While he drove, he called the garage, but the phone went to an answering machine. He hung up and tried the inn. No one answered there, either. When he got to the inn and didn’t see any cars out front, he parked, jogged to the door and went inside.
No one was at the desk, but he saw a single envelope propped against the register.
Mallory
was written on the front of it. He stood there, called out to Mallory, but there was no answer, so he took the stairs two at a time, got to Faith’s room and found it stripped of everything that would have shown Faith had been there.
Quickly, he went back down and met Mallory coming in. “Hey, Adam,” she said, looking past him. “I gave Faith your note. Is she still here?”
“No.”
“Darn, I wanted to get back before she left.”
“Me, too,” he muttered as she spotted the envelope. She picked it up, opened it and took out a number of bills, then a piece of notepaper. She unfolded it, read it and handed it to Adam.
Mallory,
You never gave me the final bill, and I had to leave, so I made a guess at what it was and added 10 percent. I hope that covers what I owe you. I don’t know how to thank you for all your kindnesses. Please tell everyone goodbye for me.