LAST SEEN...

by Carla Cassidy

  "You will, right, Mommy? You and Adam together and you can cheer for me."

  Breanna shot a quick glare to Adam, knowing he'd intentionally manipulated her. "Yes, Maggie, we'll watch you together … now go get something to eat so you have plenty of energy to play." As Maggie ran off to fix a plate, Breanna looked at Adam once again. "That wasn't very nice."

  "What?" His clear blue eyes held a teasing pretense of innocence.

  "You know what," she replied. "You manipulated me by using my daughter."

  "You're right," he agreed with an irritating, dashing smile. His smile faded and he gazed at her with naked honesty. "Breanna, can't we just spend some time together today? I enjoy your company and it won't be long before I'll be returning home to Kansas City."

  His words shot through her. Of course he would be leaving Cherokee Corners and returning home. He'd never indicated anything to the contrary. He'd made it more than clear on several occasions that he had no intention of getting married, of having any children.

  But why not just enjoy the day, a little voice said inside her head. Why not just take this day to enjoy his company? "Fine," she finally said. "The first thing I intend to do is eat. You're welcome to join me."

  Ten minutes later they sat at one of the picnic tables to eat. All around them people chatted to one another and the whoops and hollers of kids at play filled the air.

  "I saw my mother talking to you earlier," Breanna said. "Did she give you one of her standard educational lessons?"

  He grinned, looking achingly handsome with the sunshine playing on his hair and emphasizing the sculptured planes of his face. "No, no lessons, we just visited for a few minutes. Your father had a little talk with me, too."

  Breanna looked at him in surprise. "About what?"

  He smiled wryly. "The gist of our conversation was that if I hurt you in any way, the wrath of the entire James family would come down upon my head."

  Breanna groaned. "I can't believe he did that."

  Adam shrugged. "He's your father. He wants the best for you and doesn't want to see anything make you sad or unhappy."

  "I'm twenty-seven years old … old enough to take care of myself," she replied. "Besides, you don't have the power to hurt me. You've made it clear you aren't in the market for a relationship and I've made it clear that I'm not, either."

  "Good," he replied. "Then I don't have to worry about anyone from your family meeting me in a dark alley with a gun?"

  She smiled. "It depends on what you're doing in that dark alley."

  "You told me your sister usually takes part in these festivities, but I haven't seen her here today," he said.

  "Apparently there was a break in the murder case she's been working on so she couldn't come." For the next few minutes they ate in silence, although she noticed Adam taking in the ambiance of the gathering.

  "There's such a strong sense of community here," he said later as they walked toward the field where the A-ne-jo-di games would be played. "You mentioned the other night that the worst thing Kurt had done to you was make you ashamed of your heritage. What did you mean?"

  Breanna sighed and stared out to the field where the players were gathering. In her mind's eye she saw Kurt on their wedding day. They'd married at city hall, a spur-of-the-moment action that Breanna would later regret.

  On that day Kurt's gray eyes had glittered with a sense of adventure that had been infectious, and in his eyes she thought she had seen the promise of a lifetime of love and commitment.

  Aware that Adam was waiting for her to say something, she searched through her mind to find the right words to explain the depth of the trauma his cousin had left behind.

  "At first, Kurt seemed to take a genuine interest in the Cherokee culture. He encouraged me to tell him about our belief system, our legends and our way of life both now and in the past."

  She looked at Adam, surprised to discover that the pain that had once lingered in her heart whenever she thought of Kurt, was far less intense, rather like the echo of a song she'd heard long ago. "I was thrilled to share with him, felt as if his interest was because he loved me. I didn't realize that to him it was simply a weapon to later use against me."

  "What do you mean?" His question was nearly drowned out by the crowd's cheers as the game on the field began.

  She waited for the cheers to die down and continued to stare out at the field. "It wasn't long before he was making fun of our legends, scorning our belief system and mocking our ceremonies. He began to call me his little savage, his squaw woman." The memory of her humiliation warmed her cheeks.

  "I have never been so ashamed in my life." Adam's voice was sharp and she looked at him in surprise. "It sickens me to think that I had any kind of a connection to a man who would be capable of doing something like that."

  He grabbed her hand. She could tell by the expression on his face, the desperate empathy as he squeezed her hand, that he meant what he said. He looked ill with disgust, revolted by what she'd just shared with him.

  "By the time he finally left, I felt as if there was something wrong with me … like I was a dirty savage."

  Adam's gaze turned to one of surprise. "But you're such a strong woman, such a smart woman. How could he make you believe those kinds of things about yourself?"

  She pulled her hand from his and waved to Maggie. "I don't know." She looked at him once again. "Lots of smart, proud, strong women become the victims of mental abuse. I was pregnant, probably hormonal and desperate to maintain a relationship with the father of my baby. Besides, Kurt's mental abuse began subtly and built over the months."

  Once again she directed her gaze to the field. "If he hadn't left when he did, eventually I would have left him."

  "I'm sorry, Bree. Dear God, I'm so sorry." His deep voice was laced with pain.

  She smiled at him ruefully. "You cleaned up his messes, you tried to keep him out of trouble, you even feel bad about the things he did. Tell me, Adam, what did you get out of it?"

  He frowned at her in bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, in any kind of a relationship there is give and take. It's obvious Kurt did a lot of taking, so what did you get from your relationship with him?"

  He laughed and in the laughter he sounded distinctly uncomfortable. "This is far too serious a conversation to be having on such a beautiful day in the middle of a festival."

  "You're right," she agreed. She wasn't even sure why she'd told the ugly details of her marriage to Kurt, and she certainly couldn't figure out why she felt the need to understand his relationship to Kurt.

  Too close. She was already far too close to him for comfort and she wasn't thinking about his physical proximity at the moment.

  He had gotten far too deep into her heart, far too much under her skin. It was far too easy when she was with him to remember the dreams she'd once entertained, the dreams of a happy, passionate marriage and a loving family of her own.

  Already she knew that when he left he would leave her heart in pain. Each day, every moment, every second he remained only cut her heart more deeply. It was time to put an end to whatever it was the two of them had been sharing. It was time to say goodbye.

  * * *

  Chapter 12

  «^»

  It was almost ten when Adam got into his car to follow Breanna and Maggie home from the Cultural Center. As he kept their taillights in his sight, the enjoyment of the day filled his soul.

  After the stickball games there had been more dancing, more singing and celebration. More legends had been told, more education given on the Cherokee people and their past. There had been much laughter and talk as old friendships were renewed and new friendships were made.

  Watching Breanna interact, talking with animation, laughing in abandon and joyously singing had been a delight.

  By evening it seemed that all the town of Cherokee Corners had come to the Cultural Center to join in the fun. Adam saw many of the people who had been at the James's barbecue.

/>   Jacob Kincaid, the owner of the bank had sat for a little while with them and they had talked about the growth of the city. They'd been joined by Glen Cleberg, the chief of police, who had bemoaned the fact that the city was outgrowing the police department.

  Savannah arrived late in the evening, disappointed that the lead they'd received in their murder case had gone nowhere. The police were back to square one, with the naked body of the murdered Greg Maxwell found in front of the city library and no clues as to the perpetrator of the crime.

  He and Breanna had not had any time for personal conversation the rest of the day, but her question to him about Kurt had played and replayed in his mind.

  What had he gotten from his relationship from Kurt? What had kept him cleaning up after him, trying to take care of him, and keeping him out of trouble for so many years?

  It hadn't been his love and respect for his aunt and uncle that had kept him bailing out Kurt. More than once they had told him to get on with his life, to stop being his cousin's keeper.

  Certainly Kurt had never seemed particularly grateful for Adam's support and help. Nor had he ever seemed the least bit contrite for his bad behavior.

  So what had Adam gotten out of his relationship with his cousin? He felt as if discovering the answer was important, but it remained just out of his reach no matter how hard he tried to figure it out.

  He pulled into the driveway of his cottage as Breanna parked in front of her house. He exited his car, then walked over to where she was getting ready to lift a sleeping Maggie from the back seat.

  "Here, let me." He gave her no opportunity to reject his offer but instead gently moved her aside and leaned into the back seat and picked up Maggie in his arms.

  The little girl instantly molded herself to him, her arms around his neck and her baby breaths warming his neck.

  "Thanks," Breanna murmured, then hurried ahead of him to unlock the front door. "I can take her from here," she said as they walked into the foyer.

  "Don't be silly," he countered. "I can take her upstairs for you." Maggie murmured something unintelligible against his neck and he patted her back to reassure her as he walked up the stairs to the second story.

  Breanna followed close behind and when he turned into Maggie's room, she quickly pulled down the spread on the bed and motioned for him to place Maggie there.

  As he laid Maggie down, her eyes opened and she gave him a sleepy smile. "Hi, Adam," she said.

  "Hi, Maggie. You can go back to sleep now. You're home safe and sound."

  "Are you going to kiss me good-night?"

  Adam leaned down and kissed her softly on her cheek, but before he could stand up again, Maggie placed her hand on his cheek. Her gray eyes were filled with the smiles of youth. "If you ever need a little girl to be a pretend daughter, you could borrow me." Her eyes drifted closed again.

  Her words wrapped around Adam's heart and squeezed tight. "Thank you, sweetie, I'll keep that in mind," he whispered softly. He straightened up and turned to leave, his gaze meeting Breanna's. He found her expression positively inscrutable.

  He watched as she kissed her daughter good-night, covered her with the sheet, then he followed her back down the stairs.

  "Where's Rachel?" he asked when they were in the living room. "Is she still staying with your sister?"

  "She was until yesterday. She left early yesterday morning to go to Tulsa. Her father is in a nursing home there. She'll be back sometime tomorrow." She hesitated a beat. "Want some coffee?"

  The question caught him by surprise, but he instantly nodded his agreement. "Sounds good." Of course, what he wanted was far more than coffee.

  He wanted a repeat of what they'd shared two nights before. He wanted to unbraid her hair and work his fingers through the strands. He wanted to slide her dress from her body and make love to every inch of her silken skin.

  He had enjoyed casual, intimate affairs in the past, but he couldn't remember ever wanting a woman with the intensity that he wanted Breanna.

  However, during the last hours of the festival, he'd thought he'd felt her withdrawing from him. She'd grown quiet … distant and he'd wished he'd had the capacity to read her mind. He wished it again as he sat at the kitchen table and watched her preparing the coffee to brew.

  "I had a great time today," he said. "It seemed like everyone in town was there."

  "We usually get good turnouts for the festivals." She reached in the cabinet and withdrew two mugs. "We have three each year, one in the spring, the summer and the fall." She set an empty mug in front of him as the scent of coffee filled the air.

  "You okay? You seem sort of quiet."

  "I'm fine," she replied. She leaned with her back against the counter and stared at some point just over his head. "I've just been thinking."

  "Thinking about what?"

  She didn't reply immediately, but instead turned around to grab the coffeepot. She filled his cup, then one for herself, then returned the pot back where it belonged.

  "Tell me about being raised by your aunt and uncle." She sat across from him at the table. "Tell me about those years."

  He leaned back in the chair and frowned thoughtfully. "I think I already told you that initially when I arrived at Uncle Edward and Aunt Anita's house I was miserable. I was mourning my parents, missing my home, my room … my life. It was summer and I spent a lot of those first days sitting at my bedroom window, certain that I'd never, ever be happy again."

  "Did you and your parents live in Kansas City?" she asked.

  He shook his head. "St. Louis. It was a five-hour drive from our home in St. Louis to my uncle Edward and aunt Anita's in Kansas City, but for an eleven-year-old kid, it felt as if I'd been transplanted from one country to another."

  She wrapped her slender fingers around her coffee mug. "My roots are so firmly entrenched here, I can't imagine what it would be like to have been moved to a new city … a new family at such a young age."

  "I was lucky in that there was no way my aunt and uncle were going to allow me to spend my life staring out a window and feeling sorry for myself." He felt the smile that curved his lips as he thought about the lengths his aunt and uncle went to in order to involve him once again in life.

  "What did they do?" she asked curiously.

  "The first thing they did was sign up Kurt and me for a baseball team. I don't think Uncle Edward had ever even watched a game before in his life, but suddenly he was helping coach and Aunt Anita was providing refreshments and it became a family thing. Kurt hated it, but that summer of baseball games is what made the transition of old life to new easier for me."

  "You and Kurt were immediately close?"

  Adam frowned thoughtfully. "Even then Kurt was filled with a crazy energy that was both invigorating and exhausting. I was fascinated by him and embraced him as I would have a younger, rather spoiled brother of my own." He cocked his head and looked at her quizzically. "Why all the questions?"

  "I've been thinking about Maggie," she finally said. She took a sip of her coffee, her eyes dark. "I've just been thinking about the fact that a child can never have too much love in their life."

  Adam said nothing, but he saw the conflicting emotions that swept across her lovely face. She stared into the dark brew of her cup and continued, "There's an old saying about an acorn never falling far from the tree and when I think of that, I'm afraid to allow Kurt's parents into our lives."

  She raised a hand to still Adam's protest. "Wait … I'm not finished," she exclaimed. She paused a moment and took a sip of her coffee. "Then, I have to remind myself that Anita and Edward Randolf also raised you and you're nothing like Kurt."

  "Well, thank you for that," he said dryly.

  She drew a deep breath. "You can tell them, Adam. You can go back to Kansas City and tell them about Maggie."

  He heard the whisper of fear in her voice, knew she was conflicted about her decision. He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. "Are you sure that's what you wan
t?"

  "No. I'm not sure of anything, except that I have to trust you … to trust your judgment where Kurt's parents are concerned. If what you've said about them is true, then it would be selfish of me to keep them from Maggie … to keep Maggie from them."

  "I promise you won't be sorry." Happiness filled Adam as he thought of his aunt and uncle and the joy they'd feel in Maggie's existence. His happiness was quickly followed by the realization that now there was really nothing keeping him here other than Alyssa's vague feeling of danger.

  Breanna pulled her hand from his. "So I guess this means you'll be returning to Kansas City very soon."

  "Yeah, it will take me a day or so to pack up my things." A hollowness resounded in his chest. He shoved it away and stood, suddenly needing to get out of her kitchen, away from her. "Thanks for the coffee," he said. "I think I'm ready to call it a night. It's been a long day."

  She stood as well, obviously surprised by his hasty retreat. She followed him to the front door. "You'll come around and say goodbye to Maggie before you leave?"

  "Of course." Goodbye … he'd never dreamed it would be so hard to say to anyone. What was it Alyssa had said … that sometimes loose ends could snarl you all up?

  "Good night," he said and quickly walked through the front door, afraid that if he lingered a moment, a mere second, he would want to take her in his arms and kiss her sweet lips. And that would only make goodbye that much more difficult.

  And he did intend to say goodbye. He had a life to get back to, a life without the complications of any relationships with any women or children.

  He walked into the cottage and sank down on the sofa. Leaning his head back he closed his eyes and remembered little Maggie's bright smile, the offer that if he ever needed a temporary daughter he could borrow her.

  It would be easy to love a child like Maggie, whose eyes shone with the promise of the future, who offered love so easily. Had Kurt's parents felt the same way about him when he'd been young?

  Had they looked into his bright baby eyes and imagined all the great things he might become, all the wonderful things he might do? Had they lain awake nights dreaming of Kurt's life, with no idea how many tears, how much heartache he would eventually bring to them?