“Who else knows about this?” he asked.
“My aunts and Adam. We lived behind the brothel.”
“How could any mother—” He pinched the bridge of his nose, furious that any child was exposed to such a life. No wonder Adam had a worldly look in his eyes. God only knew what the boy had seen, and what he’d shared with Rebecca.
“I don’t know how she stayed,” Faith said, her soft voice wringing his emotions. “I couldn’t bear raising Adam and Cora there. That’s why I changed my name and came here, to give us all a decent life.”
“You what?”
“My last name is Dearborn.”
“Jesus.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing away the headache throbbing behind his eyes. He understood her need to protect the children, but to lie and change her name and let him walk into their marriage blind.
Radford had been right to be concerned, and he himself had been a fool.
He felt deflated and cold and sick inside. And stupid. She had brought this mess to his doorstep, and he, being the lust-struck fool Radford had accused him of being, had opened the door and welcomed her into his life.
“I had to do it, Duke. I couldn’t take a chance of having my name being traced back to that brothel.”
“Then why didn’t you change Adam’s name?”
“I would have, but . . .” She huffed out a breath. “He’s a boy. He wasn’t thinking when he told you his name.”
It sickened Duke that the boy would even have to lie about something like that. “I married a woman named Faith Wilkins, not Faith Dearborn. Do you realize I could annul our marriage on those grounds?”
Her lips parted, but no words came out. Her eyes flooded and she shook her head. “You can’t . . . Duke, no.” She clutched his hands. “If you annul it . . . oh, God, think of Cora.” Tears spilled over her lashes. “Please, Duke, you can’t do that. You can’t tell anyone about this or we’ll be driven away in shame.”
Her tears gouged his heart. His anger choked him.
“Don’t punish them because of me,” she pleaded. “I’m the guilty one. Don’t cast out two innocent children.”
“Those innocent children are my responsibility now. How could I cast them out?”
“Because you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you. I hate lies. I hate being stupid. I hate being deceived. Damn it!” He slammed his hand on the porch column. “I hate this burden you’ve put on my conscience!”
“I had to,” she whispered, killing him with those sorrow-filled eyes. “I’ll get rid of the brothel as soon as I can.”
His blood ran cold. “You own that place?”
Her sheepish nod heated his neck and doubled his heartbeat. What she owned, he owned.
Fury turned his voice to ice. “Do you know what will happen to my job and my family if anyone discovers that my wife, that I, own a brothel?”
She shivered and clutched her sweater tighter. “I want to sell it, but I can’t find the deed. My mother had no will, and I haven’t been able to talk to a lawyer about this.”
He gritted his teeth and faced the chill breeze, struggling to control his outrage. “Who was your mother’s lawyer?”
“I don’t know. None of us knew anything about her affairs. She may not have even had a lawyer.”
His fists clenched and his shoulder ached deep in the socket. “Where are her papers? Surely she had some?”
“Just a key and a guestbook.”
He faced his deceitful wife. “A what?”
“Mama recorded the guests and their fees in a book. I don’t know what the key is for. It didn’t fit her jewelry box or any locks in the house.”
Guests? The euphemism repulsed him, and he suddenly hated Faith’s mother. “Get the book.”
“The deed isn’t there.”
“Get it.” He didn’t want to talk. Not tonight. He was too outraged, too ready to smash his fists into a wall until he beat the frustration out of his system. In all his life, he’d never been so naive or made such a stupid, drastic mistake.
Worse yet, he’d compromised his integrity tonight by not charging Dahlia for killing Levens. Her deadly shot had probably saved several lives, including her own, which Levens would have snuffed out in his rampage to punish and kill Anna; Levens had hurt both women, and probably would have killed them, but Duke had stopped him. He’d cuffed the man and would have taken him back to prison. Dahlia had known that, and she’d still pulled the trigger.
Duke didn’t blame her, but his job was to uphold the law, not decide a person’s guilt. That job was for a jury. Once a person bent the truth—or the law—to suit himself, he would bend it a hundred times. Faith was proof of that. Her life was a web of lies.
He didn’t lie, and he’d never supported or approved of prostitution in his life. But now he owned a brothel. His father would roll in his grave.
Chapter 30
Adam took Rebecca’s hand and crept up the greenhouse stairs to the second floor where Faith dried herbs. It was closed on Sunday, which made it a perfect hideaway for him and Rebecca. But the sound of voices made him freeze near the top of the stairs. He brought his finger to his lips to warn Rebecca they weren’t alone.
Patrick had Iris trapped in his arms and backed against the plank wall. “You’ll never get away from me,” he said.
Dang it all! Adam had hoped he and Rebecca could sneak in here and talk, and maybe even kiss, but now everything was ruined because Patrick and Iris had gotten here first.
“I wasn’t trying to get away,” Iris said, breathless. “I planned to bring you up here and seduce you.”
Gads! Adam hoped Rebecca didn’t know he’d brought her here to steal a kiss.
“You won’t respect me if I submit,” Patrick said.
Iris laughed then got a strange look on her face. “I wish I’d met you before I . . . many years ago.”
Adam ducked lower on the stairs, worried she’d seen him. Rebecca sidled closer, and he knew they should leave, but spying was too exciting.
“You would have hated me then. I was afraid of spirited girls like you.” Patrick began unbuttoning Iris’s shirtwaist. “Are you wearing a corset?”
“I never wear a corset.” She ran her hands down his stomach to the top of his trousers. “Until I was thirteen, I was so sweet and naive, I would have bored you to sleep.”
Patrick pushed her shirtwaist open, showing off her lacy red chemise that Adam had seen drying on a rack in the house. “And you are definitely not boring, Iris Wilde.”
“Being outrageous is more exciting,” she said.
“I like outrageous.” Patrick buried his face in her breasts. “I like exciting.”
So did Adam. But he clutched Rebecca’s hand and nodded toward the foot of the stairs. If he were alone, he might peek a little longer, but he had to get her out of here.
Rebecca shook her head and grinned like she wanted to stay.
Adam hesitated, then saw Patrick put his whole hand over Iris’s breast. “I want you. Right here. Right now. Forever.”
“I don’t need forever. Right here, right now, is enough.” Iris straddled his thigh, and Patrick ground his body against hers.
Rebecca clenched Adam’s hand.
“Marry me, Iris.”
Iris gripped Patrick’s face, looking angry. “Don’t you dare fall in love with me.”
“Too late. I fell the first time I saw you.” He kissed her neck and she got all breathless.
“I’ll break your heart, farm boy”
“I won’t let you.” He put his hand on the front of Iris’s skirt then pushed the fabric between her legs, making her gasp and causing Adam’s stomach to go light.
“Men have been paying me to do that for twelve years,” she said.
Adam gulped. Rebecca shouldn’t know this.
“Do you understand what I’m saying, Patrick?”
“Yes.” He pulled his groping hand away to lift her chin up so she had to look at him. “And now I un
derstand why you’ve never met a man you wanted to marry.”
Adam’s mouth fell open. Patrick didn’t care that Iris used to be a prostitute? Is that what he was saying? Because if he didn’t care, maybe Duke wouldn’t care that they’d lived behind the brothel. Maybe Rebecca wouldn’t care either.
“My sweet, wild Iris.” Patrick kissed her very gently and looked sad, like he was dying or something. “I’m a plain, honest man who loves you. Is that enough for you?”
Iris looked like she was going to cry. “You deserve better.”
“I couldn’t find better.”
“Do you know how many men I’ve known?”
“Too many,” he said, gently. “But now you know me, and I’ll take good care of you. Marry me. Let me love you.”
And with that, he tugged her chemise down and put his mouth over her bare breast like he was starving.
Rebecca’s gasp was so loud it startled Patrick and Iris apart. Adam grabbed Rebecca’s hand and pulled her down the stairs and outside into the windy afternoon. They raced down the bank and followed the creek to a pool and small waterfall near Rebecca’s home.
Adam stopped, chest heaving from their run. “I didn’t know anybody would be there,” he said, but was too ashamed to look at Rebecca.
“Were they . . . you know?”
How did she know about . . . Gosh, he’d thought she was innocent, but she knew what happened between boys and girls. “Yeah, they were,” he said, heat scorching his ears. Did she think he’d taken her to the greenhouse to do what Patrick and Iris were doing? He’d just wanted a kiss.
“I’ve seen our horses when they . . . a couple of times.”
“I didn’t mean for you to SEE that,” he said, his voice squawking, which made his whole face hot.
Rebecca didn’t even blink.
“Will your aunt tell on us?” she asked.
He hadn’t considered that, but if Iris blabbed, he was dead. Rebecca was supposed to be at a neighbor’s house, and he was supposed to be fishing in the pond behind the greenhouse. If Duke or Rebecca’s father learned they were together, especially in the greenhouse where they would have been alone if not for Patrick and Iris, they would string Adam up by his heels.
Duke had been scowling all week, and Faith was crying a lot for some reason. This wasn’t the time to get in trouble with either one of them. But if Iris told, he was dead.
“No one can know about this,” he said.
Rebecca flushed, but she didn’t look away. “They’re grownups. Why would they get in trouble?”
“They’re not married. It would ruin Iris’s reputation, and maybe Faith’s.” Adam sighed and sat on a rock beside her. “I’m going to tell you something, but you have to promise to keep it a secret.”
“Cross my heart,” she said. The soft look in her eyes warmed him. He’d never had a friend like Rebecca. He could trust her.
“My aunts used to be prostitutes.”
She squinted at him. “I don’t know what that is.”
“They did what Iris was doing with Patrick.”
“Is that bad? I’m pretty sure my mother does it with my dad.”
“My aunts did it with lots of men who paid them money.”
“Oh . . .”
“So did my mother.”
Rebecca was so quiet, Adam figured she would walk away and never talk to him again.
“She wasn’t much of a mother,” he said. It hurt to admit it, but it was the truth, and Adam wasn’t going to lie about anything ever again. “That’s why Faith has always been more like a mother to me.”
“Does my Uncle Duke know about your aunts?”
Adam shook his head. “Faith never did that stuff with men. We moved here so my aunts could stop being prostitutes, but I guess Iris missed it or something.”
“Maybe that’s what my mother was like. I never met her, but maybe she was like your aunts.” Rebecca hooked her arms around her knees and stared at the rippling water. “Maybe that’s why she didn’t want me.”
“Did your dad say she was a prostitute?”
“No, he said she was a ballerina.”
“Gosh, that’s a lot better than being a prostitute.” Adam wished his own mother had been a dancer.
“I wonder what my mother looks like.” Rebecca’s eyes sparked. “Maybe I look like her. Maybe if she saw me now, she’d wish she hadn’t abandoned me. That’s what my dad says she did.”
“You’re real pretty. I’ll bet she’d be sorry she gave you away”
A small smile touched Rebecca’s lips and she ducked her head.
“Do you miss her?” he asked.
“No.” She lifted a flat rock with the toe of her shoe and flipped it over so the wet, loamy side faced the gray sky. “I would never want a different mother than Evelyn. But sometimes I wonder about my first mother. You know, what she’s like, what her voice sounds like.”
“Yeah, I wonder about my dad too. Faith thinks he’s in prison or something, but he could be dead for all we know.”
“Do you think he is?”
He shrugged. He had no idea.
They tossed rocks in the creek for a few minutes, then started skipping the flat stones across the surface. For a girl, she was good at it, and he liked being her friend. He wanted to be more, but he couldn’t ask.
“I noticed that Nicholas Archer hasn’t been bothering you in school.”
It was because Adam stayed away from him, and told everybody that Rebecca was his cousin now.
“I hope you’re going to stay in school this year.” She gave a flat rock a good ride across the creek, then faced him. “I like walking to school with you.”
She was so close he could see the gold flecks in her eyes. Heat burned through his body and he felt his stomach tighten. “I like it too,” he said, his voice rough and shaky, but it didn’t squawk.
“Do you think we’ll ever do that . . . you know . . . what Iris and Patrick were doing?”
Strange things were happening to his body, and he was shaking so badly he was too afraid to answer.
“We could kiss, if you want to,” she went on. Her voice was so soft he wanted to trap it in a jar and keep it with him forever. He wanted to keep Rebecca and her friendship forever.
“I want to,” he said, and before he lost his nerve, he did the one thing he’d been aching to do since the day he met her in the store. He leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. They were warm and soft, and her brown eyes were filled with so many gold flecks it made him dizzy. His whole body went weak, then got shaky and sweaty.
“That’s the best feeling in the world,” she said softly, her voice filled with pleasure and wonder, her mouth so near his he had to kiss her again.
Something wild and hot flooded through his stomach, and the feeling grew heavy and moved lower. Kissing Rebecca was the best feeling in the world for him too. He put his shaky hands on her arms to bring her closer to him, but the sound of a branch snapping jolted them apart. If her father caught them . . .
Rebecca stumbled backward over a small pile of rocks. Adam caught her arm and saved her a fall, but Rebecca glared at the trees along the bank. “Melissa Archer is spying on us again!”
“Why is she so stupid?” He scanned the bank but couldn’t see the girl.
“She likes you.”
“Well, I don’t like her.”
“Good.” Rebecca brushed sand and bits of leaves off her skirt, then gave him a warm smile. “I don’t blame her for liking you. I sure do.” She surprised him with a quick kiss, then backed away. “I won’t tell anyone about Iris and Patrick. Or about us.”
“We’d get in big trouble if you did.”
“You can trust me.” She grabbed her skirt and lifted it to her shins. “I have to get home before I’m missed.” Then she darted into the trees, tall and beautiful and as graceful as a deer, and Adam knew he would never love any girl but Rebecca Grayson.
Chapter 31
Friday afternoon was the first it had
n’t rained in days, and Duke was stuck inside at the town meeting. The good news in an otherwise dismal week was that Arthur Covey had been convicted of horse theft and sent to prison.
Wayne Archer stood up and addressed the Board of Trustees. “I want to register a complaint against the sheriff of our county,” he said. “It’s becoming painfully obvious that Sheriff Grayson is biased in how he upholds the law in our village.”
“In what way?” Duke asked, growing weary of Archer’s constant attacks. He had returned the fancy parasol to Archer weeks ago, but hadn’t told Archer where he’d found it, because it would have only confirmed the man’s suspicion that Adam was the thief.
Duke didn’t know who’d taken the parasol, but since it was returned, and both Adam and Rebecca claimed no knowledge of how the item got to her house, Duke had let the incident rest.
“Not only have two swindles taken place under your nose,” Archer accused, “but there is a thief in town who is living in your home.”
Duke shot to his feet, but he kept himself from planting his fist in Archer’s face. “Until you can provide a witness who saw Adam take your parasol, then you’d best not cast accusations, Wayne.”
“I’m not referring to the parasol. My best fishing rod was stolen out of my barn last Sunday afternoon. My daughter saw Adam take it.”
Duke’s gut twisted. Archer was playing dirty to bring this up at the town meeting days after the alleged theft, but the man had never before been a liar. “I’ll talk to your daughter,” he suggested. “Let’s get this business taken care of right now.”
“That’s just the beginning of my concerns.” Archer turned back to the board members, his chest puffed up, his fingers tugging on his vest. “I have reason to believe Sheriff Grayson’s wife is running a house of ill repute right here in our village.”
“What?” Duke grabbed Archer’s arm and spun the man to face him. “On what grounds are you making this ridiculous accusation?”
“Dr. Milton claims he’s been getting private massages from Aster Wilde on the second floor of the greenhouse.”
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