His Healing Touch

by Loree Lough

  Adam gulped the water until the glass was empty.

  “Warm in here, isn’t it?”

  Nodding dumbly, he smiled awkwardly.

  “Give me your jacket,” she said, dainty hands extended.

  When he handed it to her, Kasey stroked the brown leather. “Ooooh,” she said, eyes closed as she hugged it to her, “soft.”

  In the week between their lunch and today’s dinner, he’d done a fair-to-middlin’ job of tamping down the feelings she’d stirred in him. One look into that pretty, wide-eyed face in the church the other day, and he’d had to stomp them down all over again. He had suspected the same thing might happen if he accepted this invitation, and yet he’d said a hearty, hasty yes.

  Fool that he was, he’d told himself he could get through one dinner without waking the emotions yet again. But the instant those curtains parted earlier and he saw her lovely smile on the other side of that window…

  Idiot, he upbraided himself as she hung his jacket on a peg beside the back door before returning to the stove. Blockhead. He was in so deep, he’d need a rope and a ladder to haul him out. Good thing one of your best friends is a firefighter, he thought, you spineless moron.

  Somewhere between his house and hers, Adam must have lost his mind. Why else would he have crossed the room in two long strides and taken her in his arms? What else explained the way he pressed a lingering kiss to her soft pink lips?

  For an instant she stood, stiff with surprise, one hand still holding the stirring spoon, the other gripping the pot lid. Then a soft sigh—no, it was more like a purr of contentment—issued from her as she relaxed, leaning into him, wrapping her utensil-laden arms around his neck.

  “Something’s burning,” he mumbled against her lips.

  “Mmm,” was her whispery reply. Taking a half step back, Kasey looked up into his face. “Think it’s your lips, or mine?” she asked, before her dreamy expression morphed into a cheery smile.

  Chuckling, he held her at arm’s length. The range of emotions she brought out of him ran the gamut from passion to fear to blatant joy. “No, it’s something on the stove, I think.”

  She pulled away from him, put the spoon and the lid on the counter and snapped off every burner. Then, hands on her hips, she faced him. “Well, are you happy? You’ve made me ruin the peas!”

  He could tell by the spark of merriment in her big eyes that she was teasing. Such a small thing, really, but the intimacy of their little joke made him take a step closer, made him press a palm to each of her rosy cheeks. “No big loss,” he said, “’cause I’ve never liked peas.”

  One delicate, well-arched brow lifted slightly, as did one corner of her recently kissed mouth. “Really…?”

  Something happened in the second that ticked by as she stepped on the foot pedal of the trash can and unceremoniously disposed of the burnt vegetables. Now he had a name for what he’d been feeling, practically since he opened the cabin door and saw her standing on his porch, soaked to the skin.

  From the sink, Kasey shot a flirty glance over her shoulder. “Cool,” she said, “we both hate peas.”

  Heart thumping and pulse racing, he returned her affectionate smile. Yep, he had a name for it, all right.

  God help him, it was love.

  To give them their due, both Adam and Buddy had done a stellar job so far, avoiding topics that might cause an argument. Kasey doubted that anyone other than Pat and Aleesha noticed the deliberateness of their pleasant, if stilted, conversation, and she made a mental note to thank the men—separately, of course—when the day ended.

  Moments after everyone had a full plate, Adam’s beeper went off. Frowning, he stood. “Mind if I use your phone?”

  “’Course not. Help yourself.”

  While Adam was in the kitchen, Buddy helped himself to another slice of turkey. “Any cranberry sauce left?”

  Pat passed the bowl. “Another roll? Butter?” she asked from the head of the table.

  “Why not,” he said, laughing as he patted his flat stomach. “I can always move my belt up another notch, if I have to.”

  His joviality made her wonder if maybe he’d somehow orchestrated the call that would more than likely take Adam away from the celebration.

  It hadn’t escaped Kasey’s notice that Buddy and Adam had chosen the seats beside her own at the other end of the table, a spot she preferred because of its proximity to the kitchen. But when had Buddy moved his chair closer to hers? she wondered. Probably when Adam leaned in to ask about borrowing the phone.

  “Hey, Mom,” Aleesha said. “When are we gonna start the ‘why we’re thankful’ thing?”

  There had been so much going on as they all sat down, that Kasey had all but forgotten to announce it. Then Pastor Hill said grace, and the napkins had started flapping, and well, she’d decided it would be just as effective with dessert.

  “Soon as I clear some of these dishes and put out the pie, we’ll do it. You’ll remind me in case I forget?”

  Beaming, the girl gave her word.

  Adam returned on the heels of Aleesha’s promise. “Sorry I’m going to miss that,” he said, slipping into his jacket. “Sounds like fun.”

  “Where are you going?” Aleesha asked.

  “One of my patients had surgery yesterday, and she’s worried that one of her stitches might have popped.”

  “I told him to take that sewing class in high school,” Buddy said, grinning, “but would he listen to me? Noooo.”

  Amid the good-natured laughter his joke inspired, Kasey rose and walked with Adam to the foyer. “I’m sorry you have to leave so soon, but I understand.” Joining him on the porch, she closed the door behind them. “If the problem with your patient isn’t too serious, maybe you can come back, have dessert with us.”

  “Maybe.”

  His smile reminded her of the shy little boy who’d been in her Sunday school class last year, stirring an urge to stroke his cheek. Instead, she stuffed her hand into her sweater pocket.

  “But if you can’t come back in time for dessert, maybe you can make it later this evening.” She lowered her voice. “I’m sure everyone will be gone by seven….”

  “Maybe,” he said again.

  She lay a hand on his forearm, absentmindedly fingering the supple leather sleeve. “I’ll pack some leftovers for you to take home. You have a microwave at the office, don’t you?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Good. I’ll box up enough for a few lunches, too.”

  “Kasey, you don’t have to go to all that trou—”

  “It’s no trouble, no trouble at all. You’d be doing me a huge favor, really. You saw what was on the table. If you don’t take some off my hands, we’ll be eating Thanksgiving dinner ’til Christmas!”

  He chuckled and shook his head, causing a lock of hair to fall across his forehead. Without thinking, she stood on tiptoe and finger-combed it back into place. Almost as an afterthought, she pressed a quick kiss to his chin.

  She felt the heat of his shuddering breath as she said, “Now get going, before that poor woman has a panic attack.”

  He started down the steps. “Thanks, Kase.”

  “No, thank you. The flowers are beautiful. I’m going to move them into the kitchen after dinner, so I can enjoy them even more.”

  “See ya later,” he said, climbing into his car.

  She didn’t know what possessed her to do it, but Kasey blew him a kiss. “I hope so.”

  She waved until he’d backed out of the driveway. Then, cupping her elbows in her palms, she watched as he drove away. For a long time, she just stood there, heart aching and barely breathing and staring at the spot where she’d last seen his car.

  Sitting on the top porch step, she huddled into her cardigan and, blowing warm air into her folded hands, closed her eyes. “Lord,” she whispered, “I don’t know what You have in mind for my future, but I know that, as always, You have my best interests at heart. You know I’ll willingly submit to Your will
.” She opened her eyes, looked down the street and sighed. “But there’s something about Adam. I don’t know what it is, but I’m sure that You do!”

  Suddenly, she remembered the painful edge to Adam’s voice when he’d said, “There are things you should know about me”—things, his tone implied, that would make her want to keep her distance from him, permanently.

  But how could that be?

  Those moments in her kitchen earlier echoed in Kasey’s memory, rousing hot tears that pricked at her eyelids. How could that be? she thought again, remembering the tenderness of his touch, the gentle way he looked into her eyes, the sweetness of his lingering kiss.

  He seemed so good and decent, so compassionate and kind. Could a man like that really have done something so terrible, so awful, that the mere knowledge of it would make her turn away from him?

  Sighing, Kasey admitted that she honestly didn’t know.

  But God knew.

  She’d just have to trust Him to guide her.

  “I want Adam in my life, Lord,” she continued, “and I’m praying with all my might that it’s what You want for me, too.”

  And if it isn’t, she added silently, then You’d better give me a deep well of strength. Again she glanced down the street, where moments ago his car had been. If she missed him this badly already, how much more would it hurt if he was out of her life forever?

  Drying her eyes on her sweater sleeves, Kasey slowly made her way back to the foyer. Leaning against the closed door, she shut her eyes. The grandfather clock against the opposite wall chimed, announcing four o’clock.

  God willing, Adam would be back before the clock struck five.

  She didn’t even try to fight the silly half grin that turned up the corners of her mouth. You’ve gone and fallen head-over-heels for a guy you barely know. You must be out of your ever-lovin’ mind!

  Accent on the ever-lovin’, she added, her grin broadening. Because the truth was, for a reason she couldn’t explain, Kasey believed she did know Adam Thorne. When she looked into his warm brown eyes, it was as if she could see into his heart, as if she could read his soul, telling her he was more than good and decent, telling her he was honest and honorable, right down to the marrow of his bones!

  Somehow, she had to get him to tell her about this guilty secret he’d been hiding in his heart. Because once the truth was out, she could prove to him—to herself—that nothing he’d done was unforgivable.

  She gave a shaky sigh and peered into the mirror above the foyer table, hoping her eyes didn’t show the telltale signs of her teary prayer.

  “What’s the matter,” said a deep, grating voice. “Don’t tell me you miss Romeo already?”

  Chapter Eight

  “Buddy, I’m going to have to put a bell around your neck if you keep sneaking up on me that way.” Kasey pressed both palms to her chest, willing the action to calm her wildly drumming heart.

  “Sorry.” He leaned on the front door. “So what’s the scoop? Old Thorne agree to come back for a little…dessert?”

  She only stared at him.

  “I’m just sayin’ it took an awfully long time to say goodbye, especially for a doctor on his way to a hospital emergency.”

  The way to handle him, she hoped, was to ignore sarcastic comments like that. “Did you get enough to eat?” she asked cheerfully.

  “You bet.” He patted his belt. “One more notch, I would’ve been in big trouble.”

  “Remind me, when you leave, to pack some leftovers for you.”

  He grimaced. “You know I don’t like reheated food.”

  She ignored the pout, too. “You might feel differently at midnight when all the takeout places have closed.” She breezed past him. “Because if I know you, the only thing in your refrigerator is a six-pack of beer.”

  Buddy caught up to her. “Fat lot you know.” He grinned. “Last time I checked, there was a stale loaf of bread and some moldy cheese in there, too. Oh, and something in a plastic bowl that I’m scared to touch.”

  “You realize, don’t you, that you’re making my point for me.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. I guess you are.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders, gave her a sideways hug. “You’re the best, Kase. I’m a lucky guy, havin’ a woman like you lookin’ out for me.” He kissed her temple. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  His moods were like quicksilver, changing and reshaping in a heartbeat, without so much as the slightest warning. This latest mercurial shift, she hoped, was proof she’d succeeded in taking his mind off Adam.

  She returned to her seat in the dining room, and sipped her water. Kasey had barely touched her meal—not unusual, considering she’d taste-tested every food item on the table before the meal. Watching the enjoyment of friends and relatives made all the cooking and cleaning and baking more than worthwhile. The contented feeling induced a gratified smile.

  Buddy caught her eye. He must have thought the smile had been intended for him, for he sent her a teasing wink. Blinking nervously, she looked quickly away and blushed—exactly the wrong thing to do, as it turned out, for it encouraged another wink, punctuated by a tolerant grin.

  If only she could come up with a good excuse to leave the room, even for a moment. But the baskets she’d placed at either end of the table brimmed with golden biscuits, and the deep bowls of mashed potatoes, gravy and mixed vegetables still steamed aplenty. Kasey reached for the water pitcher, but even before she grasped its silvery handle, condensation on the jug’s rounded sides told her it didn’t need refilling.

  “Would you pass the butter, Kase?”

  Buddy sat, both hands flat on the table, blinking innocently at her.

  Kasey handed him the covered, ornate stoneware plate, and when he took it from her, he grazed her skin with a lingering fingertip. The fact that he didn’t seem to mind when she snatched back her hand and hid it in her lap told her the touch had been calculated, deliberate.

  Exasperation began building inside her. She tried to concentrate, instead, on the quiet dinner conversation. But there were half-a-dozen discussions going on simultaneously: whether or not the Ravens would make the playoffs, would Cal Ripkin play another season for the Orioles, was the gravy homemade or the stuff from a jar?

  The soft notes of classical music wafting from the stereo speakers was oddly in sync with the clink of silverware against china. Somehow, over the din, Kasey heard the hushed swish-swish of the pendulum as it swayed to and fro in the mahogany body of her grandfather clock, and above that sound, the hollow tock-tock-tock of its mechanical timepiece.

  And in the middle of all this controlled commotion, she thought of Adam, tall and strong, with an air of self-assurance that calmed everyone within reach of the sound of his manly voice. Oh, how she wished she could hear that voice now!

  She wondered if he’d made it to the hospital yet. Kasey said a quick prayer, asking God to see to it there was nothing serious wrong with his patient—not only for the woman’s sake, but also so Adam would be able to return before dinner was over.

  A picture of him formed in her mind: stethoscope draped around the collar of his white lab coat, nodding in a caring yet professional way, assuring his patient that all was well. The image might have made her smile…if she hadn’t looked up just then and caught Buddy staring at her.

  Turning away quickly, Kasey smoothed the napkin on her lap, shoved a bite of turkey back and forth through the gravy pond in her mashed potatoes, picked at a nub on the tablecloth…until she remembered that was exactly what Adam had done at her kitchen table on Halloween night. Folding her hands in her lap, she recalled that moments later, he’d delivered his warning. Don’t judge a book by its cover, he seemed to be saying, because this one is nothing but a list of disappointing surprises. He’d sounded so miserable that she’d hugged him, and the way he’d held her—tightly, holding his breath as his muscles tensed—made it clear how very much he needed a friend.

  Kasey sighed. Oh, for a moment alone!
>
  There were pots soaking in the sink. She could go into the kitchen right now and scrub them. But how polite would it be for the hostess to leave her guests while she performed dishwashing duties?

  Peripheral vision told her Buddy was paying careful attention to her every move. What was it with him, anyway? For the past few years, she’d had a distant, edgy perception, like somehow he’d slipped a collar around her neck with every intention of keeping a tight hold on her leash. Nothing too obvious, of course—that wasn’t Buddy’s way—but the feeling had been plain enough.

  And it was getting plainer by the day.

  Did he actually believe that a few thousand dollars could buy her, like a puppy in a shopping mall pet store?

  The question stopped her cold.

  She’d done the math, enough times to know that the total donated by her anonymous gift-giver over the years added up to more like a hundred—not a few—thousand dollars. Maybe she’d implied, by using that money, that she was, indeed, for sale.

  She couldn’t have given the money back because it had always arrived just when they’d needed it most!

  You didn’t have to spend it, she chided herself for the millionth time. You could have donated it to charity.

  Then Pat laughed, a carefree, comfortable sound, and Kasey remembered how many times that same money had paid the mortgage, or bought groceries or kept the electric company from turning off their power. Aleesha’s animated face and gestures echoed Pat’s contentment, reminding Kasey that there were reasons why the courts had let her adopt the girl: Kasey owned this house outright, her business was thriving. Neither of which would be true if she hadn’t put that money in the bank.

  Hundreds of times, she’d tried to uncover the identity of her mysterious caretaker. Back and forth through darkened rooms she’d pace, stopping at every window to peer out into the black night, staring at each silhouette, studying even the slightest movement of branch and bush and tree in the hope she’d catch him tiptoeing to or from the mailbox.