His Healing Touch (22 page)

Adam hadn’t left with the Camerons, Kasey noticed, and it surprised her, because he’d seemed so much a part of their family. Instead, he remained exactly where he’d been throughout the service…until he believed everyone had gone.

She saw him glance right, then left, before taking those few plodding steps closer to the coffin. He wanted a rose, too, Kasey presumed when he reached out a trembling hand.

But he didn’t take a flower. Rather, Adam plucked a single petal from the bouquet, brought it to his lips and
gave it a lingering kiss. Encasing it in his fist, he touched a knuckle to his forehead and dropped to his knees. Now Kasey understood that he’d hung back for a chance to say one last goodbye to his friend.

As the sky turned to slate, the wind set the tent’s scalloped trim to flapping against its aluminum support poles, rustled the ferns tucked among the roses. Winter-brown grass underfoot whispered, and the tree boughs overhead creaked and popped. A scrap of carelessly discarded paper floated around her ankles, and Kasey bent to retrieve it.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Adam said, his voice foggy and deep with grief.

That night at the hospital, not wanting to intrude, she hadn’t given in to the urge to offer a touch, a word of comfort. She probably would have left him to the privacy of his sadness today, too…if he hadn’t seen her.

Kasey stood behind him, lay a hand upon his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Adam. Is there anything I can do?”

He blanketed her hand with his. “No,” he said before getting to his feet. “Didn’t realize you knew her.”

She hesitated. Should she tell him that Mrs. Cameron had summoned her to the hospital? That the visit helped her understand how great a loss he’d just experienced? That she’d come here today in case
he
needed her support? One look into his red-rimmed eyes was her answer.

“Mrs. Cameron called me on the night she died.”

His brows drew together slightly.

Kasey shrugged. “I didn’t understand why, either. I knew her from church, but—”

When she shivered, Adam slid an arm around her, started walking toward the road. “Let’s talk in my car, get out of this wind.”

Earlier, she’d overheard people asking for directions to
the daughter’s house. “I thought you’d be going to Anna’s.”

He slowed his pace. “Yeah. I owe it to Wade and Anna to be there.” Adam stopped and faced her. “Why don’t you join me?”

“Because it’s a gathering for friends and family.” She shook her head. “I don’t belong there.”

Adam reached out, tucked a windblown hair behind her ear, then pressed the butter-soft palm of his leather glove to her cheek. “You’re
my
friend.”

Oh, Adam,
she thought, heart thumping against her rib cage,
I’d like to be so much more than that.

He narrowed one eye and cocked his head. “Hey, wait just a minute here. Didn’t Aleesha say that she and Pat would be in Pennsylvania with the church youth group all weekend?”

“Christmas shopping at the outlet malls.” But what did that have to do with his invitation?

“So there’s no one depending on you tonight….”

True enough, but Kasey would feel like an intruder, horning in on a function meant for those who’d known and loved Mrs. Cameron. She was about to suggest he stop at her house for coffee after leaving Anna’s, when he added, “…except me.”

Did it mean he’d like to be more than just friends, too? Kasey’s already hard-beating heart pumped faster still at the possibility.

Mrs. Cameron’s lecture rang in her ears.
“Tell Kasey the truth…” And his own warning, “Kasey, if only you knew…”
There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that the two were connected, somehow. But an after-funeral reception was hardly the time or place to quell her curiosity.

Adam offered his elbow, and she took it.

“I’ll follow you home,” he said, steering her toward her car, “and we can ride over to Anna’s together.”

“Then you’d have the bother of driving me back again.”

Adam stepped in front of her, put both hands on her shoulders. “Trust me, it’d be no bother.” He gave her a gentle shake. “In fact, you’d be doing me a favor.”

Wade had been his friend since childhood, and from what she’d seen in that hospital room, Kasey could only surmise the same was true of Mrs. Cameron. “Why?”

He frowned, shook his head. “I’m not very good with words at a time like this. Having you there would…” He shifted from one foot to the other. “It sure would take the edge off.”

It took no more than a millisecond to read the sincerity on his handsome, careworn face.
This
was something she could do. “Okay, I’ll go.”

“Whew,” he said. “You had me worried there for a minute.” Then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. For several moments, he stood there, stiff and silent as a statue, face buried in her hair and palms pressed to the small of her back. “Thanks, Kase,” he said at last.

“No thanks necessa—”

His sad, shaky sigh silenced her, then he bracketed her face with both leather-gloved hands, lifted her chin and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Maybe not, but I’m grateful as all getout, just the same.”

She had a lot of things to learn about him, among them, the carefully guarded secret he’d been keeping for…for God only knew how long.

Did she have the strength to hear it?

You’re in a heap of trouble if you don’t,
Kasey told herself.

Because, God help her, she loved the big guy.

D
uring the weeks following Mrs. Cameron’s funeral, Adam’s sorrow gradually ebbed. He knew full well that he owed his newfound peace to the passages she’d marked for him in her dog-eared Bible. She’d steadfastly insisted that once Adam opened his heart to God’s love, mercy would rush over him like river waters.

Mrs. Cameron had also predicted that when Kasey learned he’d taken part in her father’s death, she’d forgive him.

A guy can hope,
Adam thought.

Several times, he’d almost bared his soul to her, but something always seemed to get in the way…like the good-night kiss after the reception at Anna’s….

Now, as he sat with the Bible in his lap, Adam remembered how Kasey’s very presence had helped him get through the polite banter with Mrs. Cameron’s friends and relatives. Gratitude had made him want to hug her, tell her how much easier the whole ordeal had been, simply because she’d been there beside him.

So he’d wrapped his arms around her and kissed her
tenderly. A short while later she’d disappeared, then returned with a food-laden plate…and a gentle “you need something solid in your stomach” attitude.

Adam closed the Bible. Closed his eyes, too. He didn’t even try to pretend he understood the feelings she’d roused with her caring ministrations. All he knew for sure was that he wanted her beside him now, too, because this time it wouldn’t surprise him when he cradled her pretty face in his hands;
this
time he’d do it with calm deliberation.

Laying the Good Book on the table beside his recliner, Adam rubbed his eyes, wondering how his “thanks for being there, kiddo” gesture had morphed into a heartfelt kiss. Was he supposed to blame her long-lashed eyes for the wild drumming of his heart? The way she’d gently stroked the dark circles under his eyes and scolded him for not taking better care of himself? Or maybe the warm sighs she’d whispered when his lips touched hers could explain why he hadn’t been able to breathe normally since last night.

Thinking about the way she’d responded to him had Adam tossing and turning until the bedclothes were a tangled mess. Surely Kasey wouldn’t have responded to him that way if she loved Buddy. And if that was the case, she’d considered marrying the no-good bum only because she felt obliged to him.

Right?

That night at the cabin, she’d called Buddy her “generous benefactor.” Adam frowned, telling himself Mauvais had put that idea into her pretty head. If he were a betting man, Adam would have bet that Buddy had never tried to convince her otherwise.

In the months since the raging thunderstorm blew her into his world, Adam had come to understand how seriously Kasey took her responsibilities…as a Christian mother and daughter. During Thanksgiving dinner, he’d
overheard Pat whisper to her nephew, “I don’t know where Kasey will come up with the cash to pay for Aleesha’s new leg braces.” Aleesha had added, “If Mom doesn’t get the contract at the new outlet mall, I probably won’t get braces on my
teeth,
either.”

Add those concerns to the hundreds of everyday things Kasey had to worry about, like groceries and utility bills and maintaining a fifty-year-old house, and it wasn’t any wonder that she’d been entertaining the idea of marriage to Buddy Mauvais.

Adam lurched to his feet and, punching a fist into an open palm, paced in front of his easy chair. There had to be something he could do to convince her the whole wedding notion was a mistake.

But what, Lord,
he prayed.
What?

Instantly, he realized that since meeting Kasey, he hadn’t remembered to make a single delivery to the Delaney house. If he made a drop tonight, and left more than the usual amount in the envelope, maybe Kasey wouldn’t feel she had to marry Buddy in order to take proper care of Aleesha and Pat….

Adam climbed the stairs two at a time, then dug around in his bureau for his black sweatsuit and knit cap. Stepping into his “uniform,” he felt more certain than ever that he’d been doing the right thing all these years.

But wait…he couldn’t make the delivery tonight, because the bank wouldn’t allow him to withdraw more than three hundred dollars from the ATM. Tomorrow, as soon as the main branch opened, he’d fill out a withdrawal slip for double—no,
triple
—the usual amount.

He lay on his bed and, staring at the ceiling, tucked both hands under his head. There was a whole lot more to consider this time than just getting the cash into Kasey’s hands. Unless he did something to prevent it, she’d marry Buddy,
anyway, thinking the no-good, lousy bum had provided for her yet again. Adam didn’t want credit. In fact, he hoped Kasey would never find out that all these years,
he’d
been her “generous benefactor,” not Buddy.

Okay. So tomorrow night he’d make the delivery, and first thing the morning after, he’d pay Kasey a visit, tell her everything. It was a big risk, he knew—the biggest of his life—but one he felt compelled to take. Better to give up any chance he might have with her than stand idly by and watch her make the biggest mistake of her life by marrying Buddy!

Patting his jacket pocket, where he’d tucked the overstuffed envelope, Adam grabbed his keys from the foyer table. He was feeling better about himself than he had in a long, long time, because tomorrow, everything would be out in the open; tomorrow, whether Mrs. Cameron was right about Kasey’s reaction or not, he’d be able to breathe easy for the first time in fifteen years.

He took his time driving to her neighborhood, flicked off the headlights when he turned onto her street. As usual, he parked half a block from Kasey’s house, taking care to stay in the shadows as he sneaked from his car toward her front yard.

A big pickup truck rounded the corner, its fog lights cutting a bright yellow swath across her road. Adam ducked behind a massive oak just in the nick of time, and waited there until the red glow of taillights faded before heading to Kasey’s side of the street.

Her house was dark, he noted with a nod—a good sign. He’d still been in his teens when he figured out it wasn’t wise to make deliveries on nights when her windows glowed with warm golden light….

Now, stepping onto her lawn, Adam took the fat packet
from his pocket and palmed it to ensure that no one inside would hear the crinkle of paper when he slid it into the mail slot.

The first porch step squeaked, and he froze. Holding his breath, Adam waited, counting slowly to ten. When nothing stirred inside, he eased his foot onto the next step, carefully trod across the white-painted floor. He got as far as a yard from the front door, when a loose plank groaned and popped under his weight.

What this place needed, he silently complained, was a man around the—

Beads of perspiration stood out on his upper lip as he admitted that if it hadn’t been for his part in the contemptible prank, there might just
be
a man around the house.

Adam shoved the guilty thought aside. He could chide himself later; right now, he needed to concentrate on his goal.

Getting the old-fashioned wooden screen door open without making any noise had always been a test of his sneak-ability, but nothing challenged him more than keeping the brass mail flap from squealing as he opened it. Crouching, he balanced on the balls of his feet.

Finally, he reached the stage he’d dubbed Operation Let-Go. Holding his breath, he grit his teeth. The fingers of one hand opened the mail slot while the other hand prepared to slide the envelope into the—

“Ah-
ha!
” said a victorious, feminine voice, as a hand wrapped around his fingers. “After all these years, I’ve gotcha!”

Adam’s pulse pounded in his ears as he tried to free himself. And he knew without a doubt that it had been Kasey who’d clamped onto him like a human vise, because he would have recognized that gorgeous, musical voice anywhere.

“Don’t even think about moving from that spot, mister,” she called through the door, “or you’ll have four sprained fingers to show for your trouble.”

So much for musical, he thought, grinning despite his predicament. Just as quickly, his smile vanished; even if he didn’t already know how strong and stubborn she could be, Adam was scheduled to perform surgery first thing in the morning. Might prove difficult, he thought, with broken fingers.

If he could just catch her off guard, give one good yank, he could be out of sight before she disengaged the chain lock….

She squeezed harder. “I warned you….”

Pain ricocheted from his fingertips to his shoulder and back again. Then he heard the shuffling of slippered feet, heard the unmistakable release of the deadbolt. He couldn’t help but wonder what would be worse…asking Wade to operate in his stead—or giving up and letting her open the door.

No sooner had he posed the question than she turned him loose. Too stunned to run, he shook his throbbing hand, stuck the fingertips into his mouth, then buried them under his arm.
Lord,
he prayed,
get me outta here!

Somewhere in his miserable past, he must have done
one
good thing, because he heard Kasey mutter under her breath as she struggled with the chain lock.

“Thank you,” he whispered, leaping from the porch. He ran fullout, and when he reached the car, took a quick look over his shoulder to make sure she hadn’t followed. Thankfully, Adam found himself alone on the dark street.

He slid behind the steering wheel, jammed the key into the ignition and fired up the motor. Without turning on the lights, he shifted into reverse and did an abrupt U-turn, thinking as he sped away that if he’d worked that hard on
the Centennial track team, he might’ve earned a full athletic scholarship.

Three blocks later, he flipped on the headlights. At the first traffic light, he reached over his head and turned on the dome light, and inspected his hand. Four angry welts glowed red on each digit. Whether the sharp interior of the mailbox or Kasey’s fingernails had caused them, Adam couldn’t say, but a few scratches were a small price to pay for keeping Kasey from finding out what he’d been doing all these years.

The light turned green and he pulled into the intersection.
You’re gettin’ too old for this espionage stuff, Thorne,
he thought, puffing air through his teeth. Still, he couldn’t help but smile, because close call or not, he’d made yet another clean getaway. If he was lucky, this would be his last delivery; if he was lucky, Kasey would turn Buddy down flat…and say yes when Adam popped the question.

Suddenly, he thought of Mrs. Cameron’s Bible. All right, so maybe it hadn’t been luck that saved him tonight. When he got home, maybe he’d pray. Right now, Adam was too distracted by the picture of Kasey, dressed all in white as she and Buddy exchanged their first kiss as man and wife—especially on the heels of the way she’d responded to him.

I guess prayer couldn’t hurt,
he thought, pulling into the garage. As the overhead door slid down behind the car, he snapped the cap from his head.
“Okay, Lord,”
he said, scratching his matted hair back into place,
“here goes. Do Your stuff, ’cause You know better than I do that she’d be miserable with that—”
He cleared his throat, apologized silently for what he’d almost called Buddy.
“She’d be miserable, married to a guy like that.”

He slammed the kitchen door behind him and counted to five, waiting for the automatic light on the garage ceiling
to turn itself off. When he heard the telltale
click,
he locked the door and headed upstairs.

Face washed, teeth brushed and alarm set, he kicked his shoes into the closet and tossed his sweats onto the chair beside his bed. Climbing under the covers, he turned off the nightstand lamp.
“Do Your stuff,”
he repeated, punching up his pillow. As an afterthought, he tacked on a heartfelt
“Please.”

Rolling onto his side, he closed his eyes and tried to picture Kasey as she must have looked, standing on the other side of her front door, squeezing his hand for all she was worth. The image made him grin, because if she’d looked even
half
as determined as she’d sounded, chances were pretty good that she’d ground down her molars a millimeter or two.

“Y’gotta love her,” he said to himself, chuckling, “gotta—”

Suddenly, his lopsided smile faded; the impulsive admission had effectively struck him silent.

Because he did love her.

Loved her like crazy.

Earlier that evening, unable to sleep, Kasey got up, thinking maybe a cup of herbal tea would relax her. Every time she closed her eyes, it seemed, she got a picture of Adam’s long-lashed eyes boring into hers seconds before their lips met.

Why the contact had had such an effect on her, she couldn’t say. But Kasey knew this: she’d never been kissed like that before, would never be kissed that way again…unless Adam decided to repeat the performance.

If there’s a husband in Your plans for me, Lord,
she prayed,
couldn’t it please be Adam?

The very thought produced an audible gasp, and she be
gan to pace back and forth in the darkened kitchen. No need to turn on any lights as she poured boiling water over the tea bag; she’d lived in this house since she was three days old and knew it like the back of her hand.

She carried the steaming mug—and her pacing—into the living room, stopping now and then to peer through the sheer curtains hanging at the bay window. She saw the newspaper man’s boxy van coast by; when
The Baltimore Sun
bounced onto Kasey’s driveway, it startled Mrs. Moss-man’s cat. McClean yeowled, starting the Burokers’ dog yapping. Frisky’s barking prompted Mr. Cavil two doors down to bellow, “If somebody doesn’t muzzle that mutt, he’s gonna be wearin’ my boot for a hat!” A door slammed, telling Kasey that Mr. Buroker had brought his dog inside. “About time!” Mr. Cavil shouted, banging his own door shut.

Grinning at the neighborly chain reaction, Kasey realized it was going to take more than a cup of herb tea to make her sleepy tonight.