Secrets In The Shadows

by Sheridon Smythe

  Victoria sobered at the mixture of terror and hope on Lacy's face. “Yes. It is enjoyable, very much so.” She pointed to her bulging stomach. “Why do you think I'm this way? Because I hate it? No, it is because I like it."

  "Oh.” Lacy sighed, her mind whirling with questions she was too embarrassed to ask. She could hardly believe she was talking about such private things with someone she hardly knew! But Victoria was open, wise in the ways of the world, whereas Carrianna, Susan, and Mary Ann were innocents. Lacy had had no one mature, like Victoria, to talk to about her fears.

  So when Victoria said, “You will stay for dinner, you and Adam Logan,” Lacy didn't object. She wasn't afraid to travel home in the dark, with Adam by her side.

  In fact, she looked forward to it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The sun hung low in the sky by the time dinner was over and goodbyes were said. “I'll be back soon, and I'll bring Ben and Takola with me,” Lacy promised, hugging her new friend.

  Victoria returned the hug with genuine affection. “Good. I'm anxious to meet this Ben of yours, and Takola.” She looked around Lacy, winking at Adam. “And bring this handsome sheriff back with you, okay?"

  Lacy blushed, but didn't answer. She allowed Adam to help her into the wagon, waving at Jesse and Tory, who stood on the porch clutching their dolls. They started down the road, the stallion once again trailing behind the wagon. Soon, the girls became a blur, then tiny figures waving cheerfully.

  "Sweet girls,” Lacy commented with a sigh of pleasure, dropping her arm and facing the deep-shadowed road ahead. Behind them, Sandy snorted and butted his head against the back of the wagon, clearly displeased with his position.

  Adam nodded. “Yes. Nice family. Salvage seems like an honest man."

  Lacy had left her bonnet hanging down her back since the sun was behind them. Earlier this morning, she had braided her hair in a single golden plait, but the breeze and the humidity had curled the shorter hairs around her face. With an impatient hand, she pulled the clinging strands away from her eyes as she said, “Mr. Salvage will give the mayor a run for his money."

  Adam laughed at the hopeful note in her prediction. “Let's just hope Salvage can handle it. Goodrich isn't taking the news too well."

  Snorting, Lacy said, “Who cares? He's monopolized the lumber business long enough.” And not only the lumber business, but everyone else's business as well, she added silently.

  "I agree."

  "A new lumber mill means more work. People will have a choice, and the mayor will have to compete with Mr. Salvage's wages, if he wants to keep his workers. He pays them dirt."

  "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me,” Adam said.

  They traveled in silence for a while. Behind them, the sun filled with crimson colors, casting a beautiful red haze on the road ahead. Now and then Adam would slide her a musing glance. Lacy felt his penetrating eyes on her, but kept her gaze on the road. She felt charged and jittery ... expectant. Much the same way she'd felt that day in Adam's bedroom.

  When Adam steered Grasshopper from the road and onto the overgrown path leading to the pond, Lacy didn't object or ask why. At the moment, she didn't care. She was with Adam. And she loved him. She hugged the new discovery to herself, both elated and frightened. It was a useless feeling, she told herself sternly. Loving Adam should be the last thing on her mind. He might want her, physically, but he had no intention of staying in Shadow City and settling down.

  Reminding herself of the facts made no difference; she continued to feel glorious anyway.

  Adam drew the wagon to a halt beneath the overhanging shadow of a maple tree and set the brake. A few feet away, the pond sparkled, shimmering with a rainbow of colors reflected by the setting sun. There was a splash as a fish jumped from the water in pursuit of a dragonfly just out of his reach, and the raspy croaking of a bullfrog followed by the eerie hooting of a night owl getting an early start.

  As if the owl suddenly realized he was premature in his nightly singing, he fell abruptly silent.

  Without preamble, Adam turned and pulled her into his arms and locked onto her luminous gaze. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his mouth to hers. Lacy felt the power in his kiss, sensed he wasn't as in control as he wanted her to think. Anticipation tingled along her spine. Yes, she had been waiting for this, craving it.

  When he finally lifted his head, he murmured thickly, “So, you think I'm too bossy, huh? A mangy varmint, you called me.” His mouth hovered inches from her own, a gentle threat. He pushed his fingers through the damp curls around her face, lingering on her sensitive skin as his gaze dropped to her mouth. He rubbed his thumb across her parted lips, seemingly mesmerized.

  Lacy smiled, curiously—triumphantly—unafraid. “Yes. Bossy."

  Adam caught the twinkle of mischief in her eyes. A lazy smile curved his mouth. “You little vixen.” He slid his hand down along her neck and onto her shoulder. He cupped her slender bones and drew her close for another long, leisurely kiss.

  This time when he pulled away, his breathing had changed. Lacy had to draw in a fortifying breath herself, staring at him with soft, dazed eyes. She wondered if he knew. She wondered if he could see, feel how much she loved him. At that moment, she would have agreed to go with him anywhere, do anything his heart desired.

  "I've a mind to haul you into the back of this wagon—right there on that sweet-smellin’ hay—and have my way with you,” he growled softly. He moved his hand from her shoulder, homing in on her aroused peak and rubbing a lazy circle around the hardened center. “I've got a hankerin’ for you, Lacy Ross."

  At his words and his masterful touch, Lacy felt faint, breathless. The world seemed to still around her. Her eyelids dropped of their own accord and she drew in quick gasps of air between her parted lips. He was touching her, and she loved it. Wanted more, ached for more, was willing to ask for more.

  Adam wasn't David. Adam was kind and gentle; virile and passionate. With this knowledge came a strange urgency to explore her new-found freedom. Layers of inhibition and fear began to fall away and Lacy could almost feel a physical lightening of the burden she'd carried for so long.

  A strange fervor, a reckless need arose in her, blocking out all thought and reason. In a bold move that inwardly shocked her, she reached up and guided his hand to the top button of her dress. Then she finished exposing the tempting whorls of his chest hair to her eager view by unbuttoning the last three buttons of his shirt. She heard him gasp, saw the quick rise and fall of his chest at her touch and her desire reached a new peak.

  She wanted Adam Logan to show her what he'd been promising. She wanted to discover for herself if it would be as wonderful as his eyes and hands and lips promised. They weren't married; she wasn't beholden to him. She wasn't a virgin. There was nothing left to be afraid of.... He wasn't her husband, so he couldn't demand anything of her that she didn't want to give.

  The only fear left was the fear of discovery. But she needn't worry, for dusk enclosed them in its comforting blanket, shielding them from the world. And beneath the darkening shade of the maple tree, they were isolated from the road.

  But these were only fleeting thoughts; Lacy doubted it would have mattered if dark was hours away, as long as she was in Adam's arms.

  Once she had set him to his task, Adam worked quickly at the tiny pearl buttons, bending to drink from her mouth and placing hot kisses along her neck as he moved down her dress, revealing the stark white cotton shift and the creamy mounds of her firm breasts.

  When he reached her waist, he stopped, smiling as she protested. He kissed her silent and whispered in a voice husky with desire, “Not here, darlin'. On the hay.” With a reluctant moan, he left her and jumped from the wagon bench, swinging around to grab her and bring her with him. Gently, he lowered her over the side of the wagon and joined her in the soft bed of hay.

  When Adam rose over her, Lacy gazed at the stars twinkling overhead, then focused her gaze on the dark silhouette of the man she
loved. The words hovered on her lips, but she swallowed them. Adam wouldn't want to hear her confession, because he'd be leaving. She didn't want his guilt or his pity; she wanted his love. If she couldn't have it, she would take this time with him and cherish it forever.

  "Lacy,” Adam breathed, kissing her more urgently. He tugged at the chemise with impatient hands, pulling it away from her straining, flushed breasts. When she lay exposed to his hungry gaze, he moaned and dipped his head to taste a sweet, taut peak. “God, you're delicious."

  "Oh,” Lacy gasped at the feel of his warm mouth closing around her. She strained forward, clutching his head, her eyes wide and surprised by the strong rush of feeling his lips evoked. Her hands splayed over his broad back, moving back and forth, clutching, stroking, then clutching again as she felt his teeth rake her lightly. She'd suspected—no—she had known she would ignite at his touch. Deep in her heart, she had instinctively sensed Adam could make her feel reckless and wild. Wonderful, passionate.

  "Adam...?” She tugged at his head, only to gasp as he merely switched from one aching peak to the other. She buried her fingers in his thick, silky hair and closed her eyes at the sheer pleasure.

  By the time he lifted his head, Lacy forgot what she'd planned to say. She stared at him wordlessly. He cupped her face and slowly lowered his mouth on hers, pressing his body into her soft, willing flesh. Lacy discovered the evidence of his desire, could feel him against her, throbbing with need.

  She felt the same way. A deep, thrumming ache for a more fulfilling closeness. When she opened her mouth, his tongue was there, teasing and tantalizing. The kiss grew deeper, more desperate, as if they couldn't get enough. He eased his mouth away and returned to her desire-tender breasts, his lips and tongue and teeth driving her to a frenzy of need. Something began to build, something foreign and almost frightening. Lacy sensed it—like an approaching storm.

  His hands seemed to be everywhere, stroking and loving, pleasuring like she'd never been pleasured before. Lacy squirmed and gasped, strained closer to his mouth and his hands, his hard body. She didn't want the clothes, they kept her from feeling him, from touching his hard, muscled flesh.

  And suddenly, as if this night was magical and every wish her command, she was naked. Poised above her, Adam's penetrating gaze held her still. For a long, beautiful moment, he simply stared at her flushed face in the twilight. Moonlight reflected a light sheen of sweat on his bare shoulders and Lacy reached up a trembling hand and felt his naked skin, stroking down his chest and onto the hard planes of his stomach.

  She continued downward, her fingers tingling against muscle and sinew. Adam was naked, too. All over. The wonder of it made her bold. Her hand closed around him.

  Adam sucked in a sharp gasp and swooped down to her mouth, suckling her bottom lip as he began to claim her with loving care.

  Lacy froze, a tremor of unwanted fear snaking its ugly way into the fog of desire surrounding her. She opened her eyes to find Adam staring at her tenderly.

  "No, darlin'. Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you. I'd never hurt you."

  His whispered promise succeeded in chasing her fear back to the corners of her mind. With a long sigh of surrender, Lacy accepted him. They moved together among the sweet smell of hay and the symphony of croaking frogs. Above her, the stars began to glow with fevered brilliance, expanding, exploding in a great white flash of pleasure such as she had never known.

  Adam cried her name, and she answered the call with a husky cry of her own. They trembled, clasped together in the aftermath of loving.

  Lacy's heartbeat slowed gradually. The night breeze, cool and welcoming, caressed her hot skin. She stirred slightly against the hard wall of Adam's chest as he held her tight. He made her feel so cherished and worthy. She could never thank him enough for showing her what making love was really like.

  Nervously, she rubbed her palm along the sheen of sweat on his chest. Damp curls tickled her skin. She wanted to share her thoughts with him. Heck, she wanted to share everything with him. “My husband, David ... he said I was a cold woman, that I had no feeling.” Beneath her stilled palm, she felt the rumblings of a chuckle. It stunned her—she'd expected anger.

  "Darlin', that man must have been kicked in the head when he was a babe."

  He closed his arms around her, pressing her face into his damp chest.

  Silly, emotional tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked and sniffed, mildly embarrassed by his praise. “So, you don't think...?"

  "Are you fishing for compliments?” he teased softly.

  Lacy sighed as his warm breath fanned her scalp. “No. It's just that—I believed it was me, and I never imagined—"

  "You want to know what I think? What I really think?"

  She nodded, snuggling deeper into the welcoming crook of his arm. He smelled good—of loving and hard work—and peppermint. Always peppermint.

  "I think your husband tried to pin his shortcomings on you because he didn't have the guts to admit he didn't know beans about pleasing a woman."

  Lacy smiled, and she didn't have to see his face to know he smiled too. “Such confidence,” she teased.

  He shrugged, amusement husking his voice. “Well, a man can tell when a woman's pleased ... ouch!” Laughing, he grabbed her flaying hand and brought it to his lips.

  She shuddered as he began to kiss each finger. “Adam, I don't regret what we've done."

  "Neither do I, darlin', neither do I."

  He drew each digit into his mouth and sucked gently.

  Lacy tried to tug her hand away, frightened by how easily he could arouse her. If he didn't stop, she'd be begging him to make love to her again, and while she didn't regret it this first time, she knew it shouldn't happen again. “I don't think I realized how long I've been afraid.” When he released her hand, she began to trail her fingers along his chest and stomach, grinning when he growled a warning. “You've helped me overcome those fears."

  "I'm glad."

  There was a roughness to his voice. With a jolt of pleased surprise, Lacy realized she was the cause. Prudently, she curled her hand beneath her chin. “Adam ... this doesn't mean—I mean, you don't have to—” Tongue-tied, Lacy fell silent, hoping he would know what she couldn't seem to say. At the end of their makeshift bed, the restless stallion shook his head and snorted.

  Adam's grip tightened for an instant before he released her, withdrawing his arms and leaving her chilled in the abrupt absence of his warmth. He placed a lingering kiss on her mouth before he sat up and began to hunt for their clothes in the hay. Lacy watched him in the moonlight, wishing she could see his expression. Love swelled in her chest until she ached with the fullness of it.

  He slipped his shirt on and carelessly buttoned the bottom buttons. Then he turned his head to look at her. “You mean, I don't have to marry you?” He uttered a short, dry laugh totally devoid of his early joviality. “Why am I not surprised that you would say the total opposite of what other women say?"

  Pain pierced her heart at his words. Other women.... Of course, Adam would have had other women.

  He rummaged in the hay until he came up with her chemise and drawers, which he tossed onto her stomach before slipping on his pants. “I have nothing to offer a woman, Lacy. Nothing.” A bitter note crept into his voice. “My stepfather took everything that should have been mine, and made my mother's life a living hell. Of course, you know all about hell, don't you? That's why you're so worried I'll want to marry you, because you don't want to marry me. To think I swallowed that nonsense about how I've helped you overcome your distrust of men."

  "That's not true—it wasn't nonsense.” Lacy frowned as she struggled into her clothes. She tried to catch his eye, but he wouldn't look at her. “I know you're not like David—"

  "What was David like?” he cut in, jerking on his boots. “See? I don't even know the man whose ghost is constantly between us, other than he didn't know beans about pleasing you, and that he hit you."

  Lacy gasped. �
�He is not between us! How could you say that after—after what just happened? Believe me, David was not here.” How could he think so? What he made her feel was so different than what she'd suffered with David, she couldn't imagine him not knowing it. She thought he did know!

  Reaching out, she grabbed his arm and held on until he looked at her. “David was violent, as I'm sure you've guessed.” Adam's muscle tensed beneath her fingertips and even in the moonlight, she could see the skin tighten over his cheekbones as he struggled to control his anger—anger directed at a dead man. “But that was a long time ago, Adam. I made a vow that I would never put myself in that position again, of being helpless against a man who thought it was his husbandly right to hit me."

  Quietly, Adam asked, “And you still think I would be the same way, don't you?” Lacy started to shake her head, but Adam carried on, convinced he was right. “You think eventually I'd lose my temper and mar that pretty face of yours.” He reached out and cupped her chin, a bitter smile twisting his lips when she instinctively jerked at his touch. “See? You can't forget, can you, Lacy? You can't trust, can you?"

  "I do trust you, Adam! I do!” Lacy heard the desperation in her voice and knew it damned her. “I wouldn't have made love with you if I didn't trust you."

  Adam shrugged and the gesture hurt Lacy more than any words could have. “It's just as well, since I have nothing to offer you anyway."

  Slowly, Lacy dropped her hand. Her eyes burned, but she forced the tears back. “I told you I didn't expect marriage. I wanted to make love with you."

  "To see if I was different,” Adam concluded softly. “And what if there's a child from our coupling? What then? Would you let your fear stand in the way of making that child legitimate?"

  The breath froze in Lacy's lungs. Oh, heavens, she had not given one single thought to conceiving. How reckless, how irresponsible could she be? Gulping, she said, “If there's a child, we'll have to get married, of course."