by Karen Kirst
“I’ve only just met you,” he said, humor lacing his tone. “But from what I’ve seen so far, there is a bit of madness to your methods.”
That was a new one. She’d been called inept, thickheaded and socially incompetent. But never mad.
He must’ve glimpsed her frown, because his fingers closed over her wrist. “Hey, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I happen to think your approach is refreshing.”
“Truly?”
His eyes softened. “Truly.”
His fingers cradled her wrist with incredible gentleness. The sensation his touch wrought was both comforting and unsettling. With his handsome face so close to hers, she allowed herself to explore the jutting cheekbones and hard, square jaw, the smooth eyebrows, sensitive crescents beneath his liquid brown eyes and oh, that mouth, generous and well-shaped, able to drive rational thought from a girl’s head.
Desperate for a distraction, Deborah snatched a strawberry from the basket and pressed it to his lips. “Have you ever tasted a strawberry straight from the garden? Nothing beats that burst of sun-heated flavor,” she rambled. “Try it.”
Adam’s eyes went wide. Lips parting, he bit off a huge portion, leaving the green top suspended in her hold. He took his time chewing.
“You’re right,” he croaked, disconcerted. “It’s delicious.”
Face flaming, she snatched on to something, anything to cover her foolish reaction to his touch. “There’s a fund-raiser tomorrow to benefit Will Canfield’s congressional run, and I’ve been hired to provide the desserts. I’m making individual towers of pastry, which I’ll fill with strawberries in a mint and vinegar glaze—”
“Vinegar?”
“I haven’t tried it yet, but I’m hopeful it will add a little zing to the mixture. Sour mingled with sweet.”
“Hmm.”
“You should go. The other town founders, Noah Burgess and Daniel Gardner, will be there, as well as many other prominent citizens.”
He slowly nodded. “Good idea. I have a proposition for you.” He gestured to the basket. “I’ll help you transport and set up the desserts if you’ll agree to introduce me around.”
Her jaw sagged. “Me? I’m the last person you’d want for that job.”
“Why would you think that?”
“I’m not like Lucy. My sister has an uncanny knack for remembering every name associated with every face. She recalls key details of people’s lives. Once, during a dinner party my father was hosting, I put Mr. Rosenbaum next to Mr. Thatcher.”
“And that was a problem because...”
“Because Mr. Rosenbaum’s wife left him and later married Mr. Thatcher’s son.” She shuddered, not fond of that particular memory. “Lucy never would’ve done something so thoughtless.”
Though his fingers made rapid work of the picking, he was careful not to bruise the fragile fruit. “Is Lucy able to create desserts that melt in your mouth?”
“No, but what does that matter?”
He raised one shoulder. “It may not matter in St. Louis, but it matters here.”
Deborah fell silent, mulling his words as they worked. At least a quarter of an hour passed before he broke her concentration.
“See that gray cloud? There’s a storm brewing. We’d better work fast if we don’t wish to get caught in the middle of a downpour.”
When they’d gotten the ripe berries into the basket and reached the welcome shelter of the veranda, she thanked him for his help. She said nothing more because Hildie emerged from the house, her lips thinning at the sight of them together.
“Adam, there you are! How inconsiderate of you to deprive us of your company the entire day.” She slipped her arm through his. “Say you’ll play that game of checkers with me.”
His gaze sought out Deborah. “I wouldn’t mind a game or two, unless you need help washing those?”
Deborah fought a swift rise of jealousy. She enjoyed his company and would’ve liked to have him to herself for a while longer, but she had to be practical. His time would be better spent with Hildie, not her.
“Thank you, Adam. I’ll be able to better concentrate on my recipe if I’m alone.”
He frowned a little. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
The pair went inside, Hildie’s voice carrying through the house like a bird’s trilling song. Deborah sank onto a chair and contemplated the clouds marching across the Kansas sky, soon to mask the sun. Once she’d fulfilled her part of their deal, she’d have to distance herself from the charming cattleman. No more informal tours and no playing liaison. She had a disgruntled groom and irate father searching for her. Soon, she’d have to make a decision. Stay in Cowboy Creek and increase her risk of being found, or purchase a ticket to the next stop on the rail line.
Chapter Four
“You’re a genius.”
Adam licked the glaze from his fingers and, unable to resist, plucked another portion of pastry from the overturned dessert and popped it in his mouth. He’d helped Deborah carry her fancy concoctions into Daniel and Leah Gardner’s grand parlor. Around them, the Gardners’ hired staff bustled about the high-ceilinged room arranging savory snacks and cold drinks. Guests had already begun to arrive.
“I’m hardly that,” Deborah denied. “A genius is someone who invents machines or makes new discoveries.” Her anxious gaze swept the platters. “Did you topple that one on purpose?”
“I find it hurtful that you’d accuse me of purposefully sabotaging your display.”
Grooves marred her forehead. Her mouth went slack. The brewing apology in her brilliant golden eyes strengthened his opinion that she wasn’t accustomed to the back-and-forth between a man and woman.
Reaching over, he quickly righted the shell-pink bloom above her ear. “Never mind me. I was only teasing.”
“Oh.” She skimmed her hands over her pristine white apron.
A warning pounded at his temples. Since when did he flirt with potential suspects?
Adam hadn’t encountered a woman like Deborah Frazier before. She was the epitome of earnest innocence. He couldn’t decide if it was her countenance, her demeanor or a combination of both that made him want to be her protector. Was it all a clever act?
She studied him more closely. “I’m beginning to believe you’re not the ideal person for this task. Kind of like having a fox in the henhouse.”
He smiled. “I do have a sweet tooth.”
He’d mulled over the scant personal information she’d revealed. The fact that she was from St. Louis bothered him. She could’ve easily met Ogden there. He could’ve preyed on her feelings of incompetence in order to woo her into working with him. He needed to remember the reason he was here, and find out more about her. “Who taught you to bake?”
“That credit goes to my father’s trained kitchen staff. Frederica, the head cook, imparted her knowledge of herbs and spices. Louise and Wanda taught me the basics of pastry.” She rescued a pastry that was too close to the platter’s edge. “You should’ve seen my first attempt at a peach pie. Even the dog turned his nose up at it. But they were patient with me.” Lost in memories, her expression turned pensive.
Who was it that had made her doubt herself? he wondered. Her father? Mother? Both?
“Your parents must’ve appreciated the outcome of their efforts.”
“My mother died when I was ten. Unfortunately, my father does not approve of my efforts.”
Any further conversation was cut off by the approach of Sadie Shriver, on the arm of a tidy gentleman with wavy, dark blond hair and blue eyes. His observant gaze swept the space in slow inventory.
“Adam, I’d like to introduce you to my particular friend, Walter Kerr.”
Walter dragged his attention to Adam, who felt like a sample under a microscope. The man did a rapid study of Adam’s clothing and face.<
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“I feel as though I’ve met you before,” he said at last.
Adam racked his brain and came up empty. He’d traveled the country, working in multiple cities. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that their paths had crossed. He hoped not, for the sake of his ultimate goal. “I’m afraid I can’t say the same.”
Sadie aimed an adoring smile at her beau. “Walter’s a renowned photographer. He has an uncanny ability to remember faces.”
“I would’ve recalled meeting a famous person,” Adam said.
Walter’s features relaxed. “Famous? Not quite. While Sadie’s estimation of my skills is quite flattering, I’m simply a man with a passion for capturing images for perpetuity.”
She patted his arm. “He’s being humble.”
More guests arrived, and the pair made their excuses and crossed the room to speak to the hosts, Daniel and Leah Gardner. Deborah reached for her rolling pin brooch, only to discover it wasn’t there. Clouds of anxiety dulled her brilliant eyes.
“You’re going to be fine, you know.” He gestured to the room of guests behind him. “They won’t bite.”
“You never know.” With a long-suffering sigh, she removed her apron and stowed it behind a squat vase dominating a side table. “Who would you like to meet first?”
“Pink is your color,” he murmured, partially to knock her off balance and partially because it was true. “You should wear it every day.”
Her tasteful dress was crafted of a delicate crepe fabric that lent her fair skin a pearlescent sheen. The bodice boasted a demure scooped neckline, short, ruffled sleeves and embroidered roses at the waistline. Ribbons edged the hem of the substantial hoop skirt. Her dark brown tresses were confined in a neat bun, allowing him a generous view of her swanlike nape and curved shoulders.
Her small, pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips. “Thank you. I arrived with only one satchel. Hannah Johnson—she’s our premier dressmaker—made it for me.”
“Only one? Most ladies I know wouldn’t dream of leaving home unarmed with their entire wardrobe.”
“My departure wasn’t planned in advance.” She must’ve realized her slip, for her brows drew together in a frown. “There’s Hannah’s father, Reverend Taggart. We’ll start with him.”
She led him to the opposite corner of the long, rectangular room, maneuvering around stuffed couches and intricately carved coffee tables to reach a dignified, brown-haired man peering at a painting of a ship at sea.
He turned at their approach and offered a kind smile. After Deborah introduced them, the reverend invited him to the upcoming services that Sunday. Adam accepted with sincere enthusiasm. It had been years since he’d worshipped with his family.
His breathing hitched, and he barely concealed a grimace. He wouldn’t be worshipping with his mother or brothers. He couldn’t take the chance of someone connecting the dots, especially the person in league with Ogden.
A familiar laugh drew his attention toward the parlor’s main entrance, a broad doorway topped with a transom window. The papered hallway beyond was filling with guests, his brother among them. Russell chatted with the guest of honor, Mayor Will Canfield, as if they were old friends. Adam belatedly noticed the woman standing off to the side. Afternoon light shining through the many windows glinted off the silver combs in her golden-brown hair and the tasteful jewels at her throat and wrists. Her beauty and youth were enhanced by the sophisticated cut of her sapphire dress, which didn’t quite hide her pregnancy. Anna Halloway, his sister-in-law, another new addition to the family.
His head still spun with all the changes. During the years of their separation, he’d given only fleeting consideration to the idea of Seth and Russell starting families of their own. Now Seth had a wife and four kids. Russell was about to become a father for the first time.
Adam recognized the flare of envy and smothered it. He may have grown weary of his solitary life, but he couldn’t entertain thoughts of courtship and marriage—much less pursue them—until Zane Ogden was where he belonged. Rotting in a cell.
Deborah nodded toward the trio. “That’s the lawyer I told you about, Russell Halloway. You should meet him, considering Will is grooming him to take over his job.”
“He’s angling to become mayor?”
“You sound surprised.”
Adam chased the shock from his features. He had to be more circumspect. “Your description of him made it sound like he was devoted to his profession. I’m wondering how he’d be able to juggle the responsibilities to both his clients and Cowboy Creek’s citizens if he were elected.”
“He strikes me as a competent man. I’m certain he’s considered the future and would adjust to the demands.”
The pinch of jealousy that her obvious esteem for his brother produced was both startling and unwelcome. Please God, I must maintain professional objectivity. Your Word promises to give us wisdom if we but ask. I’m not asking. I’m begging.
Tucking her hand in the crook of his arm, he guided her across the room. Russell’s flare of surprise was quickly masked. He moved to his wife’s side while Will Canfield greeted Deborah.
“Good afternoon, Miss Frazier. I can’t tell you how happy I was when I learned you’d be here today.” Dark eyes twinkling, he gripped the silver handle of his walking cane. “I told Tomasina that we could easily meet our goal if we’d auction off your desserts one by one.”
“I was happy to do it.”
When she failed to introduce him, Will prompted, “Who’s your friend?”
“Oh, I apologize for not...” Her fingers dug into Adam’s suit sleeve. “This is Adam Draper. He’s new to town and boarding at Aunt Mae’s.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Adam covered her hand and gently squeezed it in a silent bid for her to release her death grip. When she did, he shook hands with the mayor, then answered his queries and, all too soon, was pretending not to know his own brother.
Russell’s act was spot-on. Anna was nervous, however, and he worried she’d slip. Her green eyes were huge pools of curiosity as she placed her hand in his.
“Welcome to Cowboy Creek, Mr. Draper,” she said. “What is your early opinion of our fair town?”
Adam wished their first meeting had been away from prying eyes. Welcoming her to the Halloway family would have to come later. “Very high. I’ve met many kind, interesting people, which helps when making a decision like the one I’m contemplating.”
“Trust me, you can’t go wrong with a town like ours,” Will boasted. “We’ve got a lot to offer a man such as yourself. Opportunities to start or expand businesses abound.”
“There’s also an abundance of marriage-minded ladies.” Russell’s smirk wasn’t lost on Adam. Nor was Deborah’s marked reaction. Beside him, she stiffened.
Another mystery surrounding the spunky brunette. Why would a lady averse to courtship accept a ticket for a bride train?
“I’m currently not in the market for a wife,” he said. “My business requires 100 percent of my energy.”
Russell curved his arm around Anna’s shoulders and sent a significant glance at Deborah. “While I understand your point of view, Mr. Draper, I’d advise you not to overlook the advantages of having a loving partner by your side.”
Anna dipped her head in an effort to hide a smile.
He gritted his teeth, already planning what he’d say to dear Russ the next time they were alone.
Will chuckled. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” His gaze shifted beyond Adam. “Please excuse me. It appears I’m being summoned. Thank you again for coming, Mr. Draper. If you have need of further information regarding the town, feel free to stop by my office. You could also speak to my friends, Daniel Gardner and Noah Burgess. Daniel owns the Gardner Stockyards and Noah owns a ranch outside town. They can give you different perspectives.”
Adam thanked th
e man. He was about to suggest they move on when Deborah spoke.
“I’ve told Adam about your work with war veterans, Russell. I had a cousin, James, who was injured and ultimately lost his right arm. He struggled for many years to support his family in the same manner as he’d done before the fighting. I’d like to believe if he’d had someone like you to help him, he wouldn’t have lost hope.”
Anna’s lips parted. “What happened to him?”
“He abandoned his wife and children. No one has seen or heard from him for over two years.” She winced. “I suppose that isn’t a subject fitting for a fund-raiser.”
Russell’s eyes were full of understanding. “We don’t fault you for speaking of the realities of war. I’m afraid I’m all too acquainted with the unpleasant ramifications.”
“What about you, Mr. Draper?” Russell inquired with faultless politeness. “Did you serve?”
Sensing Deborah’s keen interest, Adam was careful not to reveal his annoyance. What game was his brother playing?
A denial was forming on his lips when he glanced at Deborah and the vulnerable light in her eyes chased the air from his lungs. Just once, he wanted to tell her something real, something true about himself. “I joined the Union army when I was eighteen.”
A tiny pleat formed between her brows. “You were very young.”
“There were many who were far younger. We were boys masquerading as men, pretending we weren’t frightened out of our minds and longing for our mamas.”
* * *
Deborah forgot about Russell and Anna. The chatter and occasional trill of laughter filling the house faded to a hum. It was as if a veil had slipped from Adam’s face, and she was seeing him for the first time. Lingering anguish swirled in the brown depths of his eyes. She could only imagine what horrors he’d witnessed.
“Did you serve the entire length of the war?”
He nodded. “I’ve since questioned how I managed to survive when so many others weren’t so fortunate.”