Secrets In The Shadows

by Sheridon Smythe

  "But—"

  Rusty clamped a hard hand on Ben's shoulder, successfully halting his protest. “Besides, we have to check on Big Red. He likes a lot of water on warm days like this. He don't get it, he's liable to break out and head for the pond again."

  "But Rusty, Big Red—"

  "Shut up, Ben. And come on. Lacy's waitin’ on supper for us. If she's a smart woman, she'll have a bath waitin’ for you."

  Ben snapped his mouth shut at the threat of a bath and went along peacefully.

  With an amused smile twitching at his lips, Adam waved at Ben and stepped onto the sidewalk. As he reached the office door, he heard voices from within. He hesitated outside his office, frowning down the road at Rusty and Ben as they headed in the direction of home. Had the old codger known someone was inside when he'd made his excuses not to come in?

  A woman's voice, spoken in soft, soothing tones, jerked his attention back to the door. His heart rate accelerated as he recognized the voice.

  Lacy.

  Lacy was inside talking to ... whom? Adam eased the door open and halted again, shamelessly eavesdropping.

  "There now, it doesn't hurt that bad, does it?” Lacy crooned.

  Adam chewed his bottom lip in concentration. She sounded as if she was talking to a child! And she couldn't be, for he'd already figured out she must be visiting one of the two cowpokes.

  Perhaps this was something else Rusty had refrained from mentioning. Maybe Lacy was sweet on one of the boys they had rounded up at the saloon.

  The sharp jab of jealousy hit Adam with surprising force. Damn! He couldn't be jealous, not over Lacy Ross. She was off limits.

  So, who was the lucky man? Brian Bishop, or Ed Thomas? Just shut up, he growled silently.

  "Here, open your shirt and let me take a look at what you've got on your chest."

  Her suggestive statement pounded through Adam, sending a rush of hot blood to his face. He shoved open the door and stalked inside, his brows drawn tightly together. This didn't have anything to do with jealousy, he told himself. He was the sheriff, and he wouldn't stand for such going-ons in his jail cell!

  Lacy could find her own love nest, and take that mangy cowboy with her.

  Adam came to an abrupt halt in front of the cell, freezing at the sight that met his eyes. Lacy, Brian, and Ed turned to stare at him in open-mouthed astonishment. He saw at a glance that Brian did indeed have his shirt open, but Adam realized he had been mistaken in what he assumed was going on.

  Lacy held a damp cloth in her upraised hand, aiming at the nasty gash on Brian's chest. It looked wicked, and Adam guessed the broken end of a whisky bottle was to blame. That, and Ed.

  He felt like a darn fool. He worked the stiffness out of his jaw by moving it back and forth, covering the movement by rubbing his jaw with a rough swipe of his hand. A flush crept up his neck and into the deep tan of his face. He hoped like hell nobody noticed it. And thank God he hadn't blurted out what he'd been thinking.

  "Lacy.” Adam nodded his head at her. “You fixin’ these boys up?” Both ‘boys’ glared at him for the slight. Adam ignored them, belatedly noticing the plates of food balanced on their laps. “And feedin’ them, too?"

  Lacy searched for her tongue. For a moment there, when she had first turned around at the sound of his footsteps, he'd looked furious enough to start swinging those powerful fists of his. But for the life of her, she could find no reason for him to be angry. She was only doing what her grandmother had done for years, what she'd been doing for years. Feeding and tending the ‘prisoners'. It was a joke, really, to call Brian and Ed prisoners. They were like brothers to her, despite their silly declarations of undying love.

  Finally, she managed to speak, offering him a tentative smile. “Why, yes. I'm doing just that. Somebody had to fix these fellas up."

  Adam wasn't in the mood to be polite. “What about Dr. Martin?” He returned her smile with a sarcastic one of his own, knowing he was being an ass but helpless to stop it. Something about the sight of Lacy perched on the cot beside a man with his shirt hanging open just didn't sit right with him. He didn't like her being so familiar with these men, however innocent her motives. “Isn't that what Dr. Martin's trained to do?” he continued in a nasty tone.

  Lacy stiffened and lowered the rag to her lap. Her jaw squared off. “Of course that's what Dr. Martin's trained to do,” she stated calmly. “But my grandmother always took care of the prisoners, unless they needed the doctor. He's got other patients to tend to."

  Adam stepped forward and gripped the bars, frowning between them. “What if they were dangerous?” he asked softly. He flicked a glance from Brian to Ed, then back to Lacy. “What if they decided they wanted more than tendin’ to? And food?"

  Lacy drew in a sharp, insulted breath. “You're out of line, Sheriff. These boys would never think such a thing!"

  "Wouldn't they?” Adam doubted it, but Lacy needed to know not all men were of the same mold. She should know, he recalled suddenly. She should know better than most. He started to remind her, but thought better of the idea. No, he didn't want to go there, not yet. “Are you finished?” he demanded instead.

  Lacy shook her head, turning her nose up at him. She picked up the cloth and began cleansing the jagged scratch across Brian's chest as if Adam wasn't breathing down her neck waiting for her to finish.

  The cowboy winced, becoming a shade paler than he had been. “Sorry, Brian. I'll try to be gentle.” She set her mouth in a straight line and finished the task. Then she dipped the rag in a solution of alcohol and muttered, “Here we go,” before pressing it to the cut.

  Brian thought about screaming; Lacy saw it on his face, the urge to let loose with a howl of pain like he normally would. But then the cowboy's eyes met the cold, hard, derisive eyes of the sheriff and he clamped his mouth shut.

  Lacy watched the exchange with rising anger. Adam was being unreasonable—totally, ridiculously, unreasonable. These boys were harmless, and had done nothing more than fight amongst themselves.

  They weren't bank robbers, for goodness sakes!

  Gathering her rag and the pan of dirty water, Lacy stood up. She forced a smile to her stiff lips and said sweetly, “You boys enjoy your meal, you hear? Maybe next Saturday I'll fix you something extra special."

  Brian forgot about his pain—and Sheriff Logan. Puppy love softened the manly lines of his face. “Thank you, Miz Ross. Everything you fix is extra special, and me an’ Ed, we appreciate it.” He scowled at Ed. “Right, Ed?"

  Ed's adam's apple made a quick trip to the top of his throat as he gulped. When Lacy turned her smiling face in his direction, he scrambled hastily for a reply. “Yes, Ma'am. We love your cookin'.” He tilted his hat, his manner respectful, but adoring. “You're a fine lady, Ma'am, for helping us this way every Saturday, bringin’ us food, tendin’ our wounds—"

  "Shut up, Ed!” Brian hissed, kicking out at him.

  Adam snorted his disgust. Every Saturday, Ed had said. Well, he wasn't a fool and he realized what the two cowpokes were up to, even if Rusty and Lacy did not. How long? he wondered, not bothering to deny his jealousy this time. How long had Lacy been cleaning bare chests, and swiping dirt from their innocent-looking faces? Why, no wonder they didn't mind spending the day and night in jail! If she brought them—Adam quickly identified the food items on the plate—vittles like ham and potatoes every time they landed here, he didn't blame them!

  What red-blooded male wouldn't jump at the opportunity to have a fine woman like Lacy Ross crooning over his cuts and scrapes, feeding him like a king? With a frustrated grunt, he looked around the office, spying more food on his desk. His mouth watered at the smell of smoked ham and brown sugar glaze, and he realized it had been a long time since lunch.

  He brushed his hunger aside for the time being, trying to decide what he would do about the sly cowboys in his jail cell. He wasn't as soft-hearted as Rusty and he wasn't going to stand for this type of nonsense.

  He didn't have t
ime for it.

  Besides, he wasn't Lacy's grandfather, he was her—Adam bit off an oath and shoved himself away from the bars.

  Lacy shot him a questioning look as she strolled from the cell, casually shutting it behind her. Bracing the wash pan on her hip, she withdrew the key and clicked the lock into place.

  Adam grabbed her arm before she could step away, squinting down at the key in her hand. “Where did you get that key?” he asked softly.

  Lacy shivered at the sound of that dangerous tone. She knew that tone, knew what it meant when Adam used it. He was furious and trying to hide it. She tossed her head, secure in the knowledge he would not hit her in front of Brian and Ed. Fact was, she didn't believe he would at all, but she wasn't absolutely certain.

  Not yet.

  "Sheriff Murddock gave it to my grandmother. He wasn't always here, and she had to tend to the prisoners.” Her flashing brown eyes dared him to argue, or challenge her right to have the key. This time, she noticed, she felt no fear. Just a curious elation ... and anticipation.

  Adam was spoiling for a fight. She was the cause of this gut-clenching jealousy he was feeling, and the nasty way he was acting. And deeper down, he knew he looked forward to the opportunity of kissing her into silence. In that way, ironically, he was no different than Brian or Ed.

  They had both started a fight with the intention of landing in jail where the sweet widow Ross would fawn and croon over them. Feed them delicious home-cooked meals they didn't get on the ranch.

  Adam wanted to start a fight so he could taste her sweetness, too.

  "I need to talk to you,” he said, holding onto her arm.

  Lacy forced herself to meet the heat of his intense blue eyes. They had darkened with something she wasn't quite sure of. It made her edgy, though she couldn't for the life of her pinpoint why. Maybe, she thought uneasily, it had something to do with the tingling of her skin beneath his strong fingers and the way her body tightened just being near him.

  Or maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the memory of that kiss.

  Her gaze fell on his lips, the full bottom curve. The sight made her want to lick her own. She pulled her arm away from his disturbing grip, keeping a tight rein on her emotions.

  "Talk,” she said, shifting her gaze to a point right below his open collar.

  Wrong choice, she discovered, fascinated by the tuft of dark hair peeping out of his shirt. Water sloshed over the sides of the wash basin she was holding and she muttered a sharp, “Oh!"

  Adam smiled, a smile that sent warning shivers down her spine. “Not here.” He jerked his head. “In there."

  Lacy followed his movement, realizing with a jolt of shock that he meant the room her grandfather had built onto the jail house.

  Now Adam's bedroom.

  "I don't think that would be a good idea,” she quavered. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her gaze once again to stare directly into his face. “What is it that you want to talk about, Sheriff Logan?"

  That did it. Adam took the wash basin from her nerveless fingers and set it in the floor. He jerked the rag from her and threw it behind him without a thought to where it might land. Grabbing her elbow, he pulled her into the bedroom and shut the door on the astounded faces of Brian and Ed, who had been following the exchange with great interest.

  Lacy jerked loose, glaring at him. “What do you think you're doing? I've got a reputation in this town, mister—"

  "Adam!” he shouted. “My name is Adam. Not ‘Sheriff Logan', not ‘mister', but Adam!"

  "Fine!” Lacy shouted back. “Adam! Adam, Adam, Adam!"

  The sudden silence that followed their outburst was deafening.

  Lacy had her back to the closed door. Adam loomed in front of her, too close, way too close. She felt trapped, excited, agitated. Thunder, she wasn't sure how she felt. She just knew that his broad shoulders blocked the evening sunlight, and she couldn't keep her eyes from straying to that patch of hair peeping between his shirt opening. Fiddlesticks. Doctoring Brian had not aroused any interest, why did Adam Logan?

  She wet her lips with her tongue, for they had suddenly gone dry. Just how far did that hair line go? Lacy pressed herself tighter against the door.

  Adam moved closer.

  "Do you have any idea what those boys are up to?” Adam demanded, wishing he hadn't suggested they talk in here. He couldn't get the thought of that bed out of his mind. It was right behind him, with the softest feather mattress he'd ever slept on. He imagined Lacy stretched out on the bed, her liquid brown eyes beckoning him...

  Lacy swallowed hard. Her stomach felt like it had a couple of humming birds trapped inside. “I—don't know what you mean.” She moistened her lips, refusing to lift her eyes no matter how much the sight of that patch of hair made her hands itch. She wouldn't touch him ... She wouldn't see if it was as soft as she knew his hair to be. She wouldn't.

  "You don't know what I mean,” Adam mocked softly. He trailed a finger down the curve of her jaw, down, down to the slight swell of her breast. She drew in a sharp breath and held it as he said, “Those boys are gettin’ themselves in jail on purpose, you little fool."

  Lacy let out her breath on a hiss of rage. “How dare you call me a fool. Those boys are harmless, and you act as if they're wanted for murdered. They can't hurt you, Sheriff Logan.” She hadn't meant to taunt, she really hadn't. But she saw by the darkening of his eyes that it was too late.

  Adam shifted his lower body closer, letting her feel how much she affected him. Her gasp of shock fed the fire steadily raging within him. He rocked gently against her. “They can't hurt me, Lacy. But they can hurt you.” He lowered his mouth onto hers and kissed her, nudging her lips open. His tongue slipped inside her warm, sweet mouth.

  Lacy felt her bones begin to melt. She couldn't keep her eyelids apart. The hard length of his body urged her to press forward, strain for contact, get closer and closer still. With a moan of surrender, she lifted her arms around his neck and slid her fingers into his hair. Such soft, silky hair ... Oh, goodness, why did he make her feel this way? It confused her, made her long for something she knew would be disastrous to have.

  Somewhere in the conscious part of his brain, Adam realized he had underestimated his willpower to control himself with Lacy. But just when he thought of what he should be doing, instead of what he wanted to do, she moaned and mimicked his movements.

  Damn, she was so sweet.

  He couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop. Lacy Ross had filled his waking thoughts, as well as his sleeping ones, for the past week and a half. She was harder to shake loose than a bur in a horse's mane, and he didn't much feel like trying.

  He ground against her, slowly moving his hands up to cup her small, firm breasts. When he reached his destination, she jumped in surprise, then pressed into his hands.

  Adam sighed into her mouth, then slid his lips along her jaw to the delicate area around her ear. Down her neck and finally onto the swell of her chest.

  Lacy tried to fight the fierce urgency his touch brought, and when his hot breath seared through the cotton fabric of her dress to fan the swollen flesh of her breast, she jerked back.

  There wasn't anywhere to go.

  The door was behind her. She panicked, bringing her hands between them to press firmly against his chest. Her fingers slipped into the open neck of his shirt and became tangled in short, silky hair. Her breath came out in short, painful bursts. Her voice was nothing more than a husky whisper no matter how strong she intended for it to be.

  "Adam—I—Don't, please."

  Adam trailed his hot tongue along her neck, back to her lips, where he proceeded to kiss her into silence again. His hands fell to her waist and pulled her body tightly against his own. Roughly, he growled into her mouth, “You don't want me to stop. Say you don't want me to stop what I'm doing."

  "I—” Lacy tore her mouth free and turned her head to the left, biting into her bottom lip until she tasted blood. Squeezing her eyes tightly clo
sed, she forced the words past her lips. “Yes. I do want you to stop. Brian—Ed—"

  Adam slowly loosened his hold. With a deep, regretful sigh, he moved away enough to break all contact between their bodies. Heat shimmered between them, heat they'd created together. It was just as well, he thought ruefully. They shouldn't make love with lies between them, and he was guilty of that.

  He and Lacy needed to talk.

  Adam walked to the single window of the bedroom and looked out. He couldn't see much, mainly the narrow alley and the side of the telegraph office. But it was somewhere safe to plant his sights when all he wanted to do was stare at Lacy. Running his hand through his shaggy hair, he said, “I don't want you goin’ into the jail cell with any prisoners you don't know.” Or with Brian and Ed, because I'm jealous.

  Lacy stirred against the door, wondering if her body would stop tingling and aching for more of his gentle, fevered touch. There was a slight, betraying catch in her voice when she replied, “Adam—we don't have strangers in jail very often, and when we do, I don't go near them. If—if I have to tend them, Grandpa is always with me.” She wasn't brainless. Or was she? If she wasn't, then why wasn't she running while she had the opportunity? She was in Adam Logan's bedroom, for goodness sake! And Brian and Ed knew it; they might talk.

  "Are you aware that Brian and Ed do this on purpose?” Adam asked softly, keeping his eyes on the safe view of the building.

  Lacy shrugged, then realized he couldn't see her. “I'm not naive, Adam. I suspected their motives a long time ago, but I decided they were harmless, and in need of a little mothering."

  Adam laughed unpleasantly. “I don't think they see you as a mother figure. You're not a mother, and they're not little boys."

  "Maybe not to you,” Lacy retorted, her tone revealing a slight exasperation. She thought Adam was making a big deal over nothing. Her grandfather had not reacted this way over Brian and Ed, so she couldn't understand why it bothered Adam so much.

  Unless ... unless he was jealous?

  Lacy scoffed at the ridiculous thought, calling herself a fool. Where in the world had she gotten such a conceited idea? Imagine, Adam Logan, jealous of Brian and Ed because of her! Why, the girls would bust a corset laughing if she voiced such a possibility. Still, the only other logical reason would be that Adam thought of her as a child, and himself as a father figure.