by Karen Kirst
Why would Adam try to follow her? Deborah glanced over her shoulder at the light flickering in the kitchen window. Fortunately for her, Aunt Mae had emerged in time to forestall him. She’d heard their voices but hadn’t been able to make out the conversation. Tucking beneath her arm the basket she’d prepared after supper and placed in a rarely used cabinet, she walked at a brisk pace until she turned the corner onto Lincoln Boulevard. She would return to the same empty lot behind the Gardners’ home once more. If she didn’t find a trace of the stowaways, she’d focus her search elsewhere. Or give up and leave the issue to the professionals to solve. That would be the prudent thing to do, but as a runaway herself, she was familiar with the myriad difficulties associated with being far from home. Fear and uncertainty. Sadness. And she was an adult. How much more daunting it must be for children.
The figures of a man and woman melted from the shadows. Deborah recognized the blacksmith and his wife and tried to think of an excuse for being out at such an hour.
“Deborah, is that you?” Beatrix Werner called as they drew closer. Walking beside her, Colton held their son, Joseph. The dark-haired baby rubbed his eyes and yawned widely.
“Hello, Beatrix. Colton.” She smiled brightly. “I see I’m not the only one having a restless night.”
Beatrix shot a concerned glance at her son. “I believe he has a tooth trying to push through. He’s been irritable all week.”
Colton rubbed the baby’s back in a soothing motion. “We thought Bea’s harmonica music would soothe him. When that didn’t work, we decided to take a stroll through town.”
Though a mountain of a man, Colton looked at ease holding the baby. Deborah had heard the story of how he’d married Beatrix moments before she gave birth to Joseph for the sole purpose of giving the child a name. Midwife Leah Gardner and one of the town’s doctors hadn’t thought Beatrix would survive long enough to hold her baby. The Austrian woman wasn’t as delicate as she looked, however, and she’d pulled through. The pair may have married for an unconventional reason, but they’d fallen deeply in love with each other.
Would she ever experience a deep connection like theirs? Would she even recognize it? She hadn’t had a mother to guide her in such things, hadn’t had the benefit of parents after whom to pattern a loving marriage. Adam Draper was the first man to breathe hope into her life, the first to inspire a yearning to love and be loved. From the moment he caught her in that ridiculous blindfold, something inside her had strained to get to know him better. It was confusing and frightening and a tiny bit exhilarating. But Deborah wasn’t convinced he felt the same way. There were times when he regarded her with what she thought was admiration. Other times, he acted suspicious of her. She didn’t blame him. The circumstances of her arrival and her continued evasion of suitors were cause for skepticism.
Oh, Lucy. I wish you were here so we could hash this out together.
“Are you sure you should be out alone?” Beatrix asked.
“I couldn’t sleep.” That was true. “I thought it would be better to get some fresh air and exercise than toss upon my bed for hours.”
Beatrix eyed the basket Deborah held, then looked back at her. “Cowboy Creek is safe enough, I suppose—”
“I don’t plan on going far.” She pointed to the next street corner. “That’s my stopping point. Besides, I can scream loud enough to scare the dead.”
Colton chuckled, earning a playful swat from his wife when Joseph started fussing and trying to cram his whole fist into his mouth.
“Keep your wits about you,” Beatrix advised. “We’re going to keep walking. He doesn’t seem to like it when we stop.”
“I hope he lets you rest at some point.”
“As do I,” Colton said.
The couple bid her good-night and continued along toward the school. At the corner, Deborah hesitated. But they weren’t paying her any attention. She hurried on her way and was soon blocked from view by the Gardners’ mansion. Her thoughts strayed to Adam. It was too easy to imagine him cradling a baby to his chest. But he wasn’t ready for marriage, he’d told her, much less children. He had other priorities.
A noise in the woods to her left startled her. Edging closer to the trees, she tried to peer through the darkness.
“Shh! She’ll hear us!”
Deborah’s pulse picked up speed. That was a child’s voice.
“But I’m hungry,” a second, higher voice whined. “I’d rather go back to Lakewood than starve.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Hello?” She ventured into the woods, twigs snapping beneath her boots. “I’ve brought food for you.”
Silence greeted her announcement. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted.
“I have smoked ham, cheese and fresh baked bread. Molasses cookies, too.”
She picked her way closer, still unable to make out their shapes. Without a lamp, the shadows beneath the tree canopy were opaque.
“My name is Deborah.” Her skirt caught on a fallen log. “I’m the chief dessert maker for Aunt Mae’s boardinghouse.”
There was a rustle in the distance, followed by the drubbing of feet. They were running away.
“Please, don’t leave! I only want to help!”
She tugged her skirt free and rushed ahead. Her foot sank into a shallow hole, wrenching her ankle. Pain arced up her leg. Sucking in a sharp breath, she managed to keep hold of the basket. Disappointment squeezed her lungs. There’d be no catching them now.
Using a tree trunk to brace herself, she called, “I’ll leave the basket here.” Her voice trailed off. “In case you decide to come back.”
But that wasn’t likely.
Deborah limped over to the log and sank onto it. Reaching down, she attempted to massage her sore ankle through her boot. The throbbing ache made the walk back to the boardinghouse seem extralong.
“I like ham.”
Deborah whipped her head up. She could barely make out the outline of a small girl.
“Lily! What are you doing?” A slightly larger child, a boy this time judging by the voice, crashed into the clearing. He reached for the girl, but she dodged him.
“I’m hungry, Liam! She has food. And she’s nice. She brought us chicken, remember?”
“You found that?” Deborah said, pleased it hadn’t gone to waste.
At her question, Liam marched over and seized Lily’s arm. “We’re leaving. We can’t trust her, remember? We can’t trust anyone.”
Deborah rifled in the basket and located the matches and a candle. The wick caught flame, illuminating the few feet separating them.
She stifled a gasp of dismay. The children were young. Too young to be fending for themselves. They looked alike, with tousled dark hair and thin faces dominated by large, distrustful eyes. Their clothing was tattered and dirty.
Holding out the basket, she urged them to take it. “I don’t mind if you eat the cookies first.”
Lily’s grin transformed her face. “Did you hear that, Liam?” Her hand closing over the handle, she crouched on the ground. “It’s been ages since we’ve had anything sweet besides berries.”
Still staring at Deborah, he stopped Lily from rifling through the contents. “We’re not eating it here.” He craned his neck to peer around them. “She could have the sheriff waiting to haul us off.”
Lily nibbled on her lower lip.
“Please don’t go.” Deborah held up her hand. “No one knows I’m here. I’ve been looking for you since I heard the rumors about two stowaways. You were on the train that wrecked, right?”
The girl nodded.
“I’m a runaway, too.”
Liam sneered. “Grown-ups don’t run away.” Grabbing the basket, he urged Lily to follow him.
Deborah got quickly to her feet. She moaned.
Lily stopped. “Did you hurt
yourself?”
“It’s nothing serious.” She gestured to their surroundings. “Look, I understand you’re scared. I’m certain it’s no fun sleeping outdoors. Why don’t you accompany me to the boardinghouse? The proprietress, Aunt Mae, wouldn’t turn you away. She can be grumpy sometimes, but she’s a kind, sympathetic woman. You can have baths and sleep in real beds. There’s more food there, too.”
“I bet the covers are warm and soft.” Lily sighed.
Liam’s eyes gleamed in the darkness as he took Deborah’s measure. She sensed his hesitation, but ultimately, he jutted his chin and grasped Lily’s hand.
“We’re leaving.”
Deborah couldn’t physically compel them to Aunt Mae’s, even without a sore ankle. “I wish you’d reconsider.”
“And let you send us back to—” He clamped his lips shut. “Uh-uh.”
He marched Lily between the trees and deeper into the gloom.
“Thanks for the food, miss,” Lily called to her.
“I’ll bring more tomorrow night,” she answered, holding the candle high.
Feeling bereft, she tarried there for a while in hopes they’d circle back. She finally gave up and limped home. If only she’d been able to persuade them. Given the boy’s suspicious nature, she wasn’t convinced he’d risk returning to that spot. She may have ruined any chance she had at helping them.
* * *
Deborah was alone in the kitchen the next morning when Adam strolled in. The instant he stepped into the room, her body reacted. Her skin prickled. Her face heated. A rush of excitement swept through her.
Adam’s presence charged the air with energy.
“Good morning.” Somehow, she managed to sound normal and completely unaffected. She focused on flipping the sausage patties one by one in the sizzling skillet. “Aunt Mae’s feeling under the weather this morning, so I have breakfast duty.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. How can I help?”
Deborah pointed to the hutch. “You could set the table.”
He whistled under his breath as he moved between the kitchen and dining room. By the time he’d finished with that chore, she was transferring the sausage to a serving dish. He came close and flashed a smile that made her knees weak. “That smells delicious.”
“Don’t steal any,” she warned with a wave of the spatula, trying to avoid looking directly into his warm brown eyes.
He was especially inviting today in a cream collared shirt beneath a paisley brown, cream and blue vest and chocolate-brown slacks.
“Hurry up with those flapjacks,” he said, nodding to the bowl of batter, “and I won’t be forced to.”
She twisted around to the stove and winced, the breath hissing through her teeth. The cool compress she’d applied last night hadn’t eased the tenderness in her ankle. She’d awoken to find it still swollen and mottled.
“Did you hurt yourself?” Adam circled the table and advanced toward her.
“I wrenched my ankle, that’s all. It’ll be fine in a day or two.”
Frowning, he touched her arm. “Come and sit down. Let me take a look at it.”
“No, thank you.” The mere thought of Adam’s sure fingers removing her boot, then examining her limb made her giddy.
“I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
“It’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
Deborah waved her hand to encompass him from head to toe. “Because you’re too handsome for my peace of mind, that’s why not! When you come near me, I get fluttery inside. I don’t wish to add swooning in your arms to my expanding list of faux pas.”
A variety of emotions flashed over his face. Astonishment. Amusement. Longing.
Wait. What?
Before she could determine if she was imagining what wasn’t there, his gaze shifted to the floor beneath their feet, and his hand passed over his hair and came to rest against his neck. He swallowed hard. “Deborah...”
Belatedly, she accepted that she shouldn’t have admitted those things to him. If Lucy were here, she would’ve pull her aside and admonished her.
“I’ve stunned you speechless, haven’t I?” She seized the bowl of batter from the work surface and went to the stove. “All I can say is, it’s a good thing you’re not a doctor. Your female patients wouldn’t stand a chance.”
She mentally cringed. Like that was going to help smooth over her embarrassment.
“I never aspired to be a doctor,” he said at last, his voice smooth and husky.
The circles of batter expanded and popped in the skillet. “You dreamed of raising cattle instead.”
There was a long pause. “I suppose you could say that.”
He closed the distance between them. “Deborah?”
“Hmm?” She kept her gaze on the skillet.
His fingers skimmed her cheek, urging her to turn her head. His expression was solemn. That didn’t bode well.
“Deborah, I’m flattered.” His gaze roamed her features as if memorizing them. “But, I—”
“I wasn’t angling for an invitation to supper, if that’s what you’re thinking. I know nothing romantic can develop between us.”
Do not look at his mouth, she sternly threatened. Do not think about how it might feel to be kissed by him. Or held by him.
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
“Oh.”
“I was going to offer a word of advice. I happen to find your candor refreshing. I like knowing your thoughts and opinions. However, some men might be tempted to take advantage. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
Why did his concern have to make her eyes well up with tears?
Footsteps heralded another boarder’s arrival and she stepped back, the pain shooting up from her ankle.
“Is something burning?” Sadie entered the kitchen and stopped short. “Oh, excuse me. I apologize if I’m interrupting.”
“You’re not.” Deborah turned to see that the flapjacks were indeed black around the edges. “Well, I’ve made a mess of these.”
Adam stepped close beside her. “Here, let me.” He held out his hand for the spatula. “Sadie, would you mind helping me finish breakfast? Aunt Mae is indisposed and Deborah has injured her ankle.”
“I thought you could only manage drinks,” Deborah said, reluctant to hand over the utensil.
“I know a bit more than I let on.” He shrugged. “I learned to cook the basics while in the army.”
“Go sit down, Deborah.” Sadie’s skirts swished as she hurried over. “How did you hurt yourself?”
Adam’s features sharpened, and he seemed particularly interested in her answer.
Sinking into one of the chairs, she folded her hands atop the table. “I couldn’t sleep last night, so I went outside for a while. I stepped into a hole.”
Adam’s profile was to her as he scraped out the ruined flapjacks and dropped more batter in the skillet. His lips pursed. Did he suspect she wasn’t telling the whole truth? Part of her yearned to tell him about her discovery and enlist his aid. Another part rejected that idea. What if he scared the kids off for good? Or insisted on taking them to the sheriff?
More than likely it was they who had stolen items from the local business owners.
Hildie bounded in the room then, refreshing in a lightweight blue printed cotton dress, and pitched in. Deborah found it difficult to watch the other woman cozy up to Adam. To his credit, he didn’t let her marked attention inflate his ego. He was kind without encouraging her.
Once they’d had their fill of coffee and food, Adam asked the others to clean up while he took Deborah to the doctor.
Her hand flew to her throat. “That’s not necessary.”
“I’d feel better if you got his opinion.” The set of his mouth brooked no argument, giving the impression that when
ever Adam Draper set his mind to something, there was no swaying him.
“Don’t take her to Doc Fletcher,” Sadie advised. “Take her to see Marlys Mason. She’s a holistic doctor who’s done wonders for many in our community.”
Placing his cloth napkin beside his plate, he stood and, retrieving his suit jacket from the back of his chair, sunk his arms into the sleeves. He walked around to her chair and rested a hand on the rung. “Which one will it be, Deborah?”
“If I must go, I choose Dr. Mason.”
He assisted her through the house, into the front yard and past the gate leading to the boardwalk. Her pace was slower than usual. She tried to mask her discomfort, but he was too perceptive not to notice.
“That’s it,” he announced suddenly. “I’m carrying you.”
Before she could protest, he’d hooked one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees and hauled her into his arms.
“Adam!” Her arms went automatically around his neck, the fine hairs above his collar tickling her skin. “Put me down.”
He cocked a brow at her, his brown eyes dancing. “I’d like to get there before noon.”
“So you’re not doing this to spare me pain?” she demanded, offended he’d shattered her romantic ideals. “You’re simply impatient?”
Chuckling, he strode along Eden Street as if carting her around town in his arms was a common occurrence. They passed Sam Woods Mason’s newspaper office and the jail. As expected, people gawked. Thankfully, the streets were less crowded on Saturdays.
“You’re going to start rumors about us,” she told him.
“As long as we know the truth, what anyone else thinks doesn’t matter.”
Deborah closed her eyes and tried to squelch the disappointment his words engendered. But with the world shut out, her focus switched to Adam’s wide, hard chest anchoring her, the absolute strength of his arms around her and the imprint of his hand curved around her ribs. The clean, woodsy scent clinging to his clothing teased her. If she opened her eyes, she’d get a close-up view of his smooth, close-shaven jaw and tanned neck.
“Is this the doctor you want?”
She forced her lids up. “No. Turn right. Marlys has her practice on this street.”