His Healing Touch (23 page)

Correction…this morning. As she’d stirred honey into her mug, she’d noticed that the kitchen clock said four-fifteen. Yawning, Kasey put her cup on the windowsill and tied her robe tighter around her waist to fend off the chill that wrapped around her.

Parting the curtains, she glanced skyward, saying a silent prayer of thanks that the forecasted snow hadn’t begun to fall yet. The weatherman’s prediction included an overnight low of zero…far below normal for December in Baltimore. And while it appeared he’d missed the “snow” target, he’d hit the bull’s-eye with the temperature outlook.

Hunching her shoulders against the nip in the air, she gave serious consideration to turning up the heat. Money was tight, but saving a few dollars on the fuel bill, only to
spend it on cough syrup and cold medications, didn’t seem to make much sense.

She’d started for the thermostat, when a slight movement caught her eye. Instinct made her rub her eyes, curiosity forced her to stare through the opaque window covering. Kasey expected to see a neighbor’s pet, a stray animal, even. But a second hard glimpse assured her she hadn’t been seeing things.

Much to her dismay, it was a
man
out there on her front lawn, dressed all in black and skulking around, stoop-shouldered, like some crazed primate. Not once in all the years she’d lived here had she heard of a burglary in the area. But there was a first time for everything. Besides, could anyone outfitted like that be up to anything
but
no good?

Without taking her eyes off him, she patted the tabletop, searching for the portable phone, hoping as her fingers brushed the cradle that Aleesha had remembered to put the receiver back where it belonged. Kasey wouldn’t know for sure unless she checked.

In the time it took to determine that the battery did indeed need charging, he’d disappeared. Craning her neck, Kasey gawked up the street and down again. Unfortunately, he seemed to have vanished, like ebony smoke.

She heard a quiet rustling on the front porch. One footstep, another. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled, and her heart hammered in her ears as a quiet
sproing
told her he’d opened the screen door, stretching the spring to its limit.

Kasey tiptoed to the foyer, intent on hurrying into the kitchen for the portable that hung on the wall above the canisters, when four beefy fingertips poked through the mail slot, followed immediately by the white corner of a fat envelope.

She licked her lips as instinct told her she had nothing to fear. This wasn’t a burglar, but the man who’d been delivering packages of cash, once a month, every month, for fifteen years! She scurried closer…and with all her strength, took hold of those warm, manly fingers. “Ah-
ha!
” came her coarse whisper. “After all these years, I’ve gotcha!”

For a full minute after that, they played tug-of-war, pulling like their lives depended on it. If she could just hold onto him a moment longer, she’d know for sure if the gift-giver was Buddy…or not.

Not,
she hoped, groaning under her breath and biting her lower lip, straining to maintain her hold on his fingers.

She heard him emit a low grunt. Odd, she thought, that she almost recognized it. Leaning against the door for stability, she grappled with the chain lock, the doorknob lock…and lost her grasp.

It seemed more important than ever to find out who he was. Flipping the deadbolt’s latch, she flung open the door.

A cold blast of wind swirled onto the porch, and she squinted at the remnants of dried leaves that spiraled into her face. He was gone before she opened her eyes.

“Rats,” she muttered, punching the air in frustration. Inside, after locking up again, she shook her head. “This close,” she fumed, forefinger and thumb in the air. “I was
this
close!”

An hour later, when Aleesha’s alarm sounded, Kasey was still pacing the semidarkened house. Yawning, she climbed the stairs to roust the girl from bed.

There was no earthly reason for Adam to pop into her mind at that moment, yet Kasey found herself wishing she hadn’t gotten up earlier, because waking from dreams of his warm hugs and sweet kisses would be far easier to bear than memories of tussling with the man in black.

Adam stood on her porch and checked his watch. The operation hadn’t taken as long as he’d expected, putting him at Kasey’s at ten-thirty instead of noon. The unpredictable nature of surgery was precisely the reason he hadn’t called first, to let her know he’d be dropping by.

As he rang the doorbell, he found himself wishing he’d phoned, after all, because what if she wasn’t home?

“Adam,” she said, opening the door wide.

He thought she looked adorable in her jeans and baggy sweatshirt, looked like a teenager with her hair pulled up in a ponytail that way. “I was in the neighborhood…” he began, unable to believe he’d actually uttered the timeworn cliché. Holding up a box of doughnuts and two foam cups of coffee, he could only hope his smile didn’t look as stiff as it felt, because hers warmed him like a summer day.

The soles of her white sneakers squeaked on the slate foyer floor when she stepped aside to let him in. “What a nice surprise.” Closing the door, she used her chin to point down the hall. “I’m baking Christmas cookies, so it’s nice and warm in the kitchen.”

He thought the house smelled delicious, and as he dogged her heels Adam told her so. “You do this every year?” he asked, scanning the cookie-strewn counters.

“’Fraid so,” she said, taking two dessert dishes from the cupboard. “And I always make too many, so remind me to fix you a plate when you leave.”

“You’ll get no argument from me,” he said, grinning. Adam tried not to think about the fact that, once he delivered his intended message, he’d be lucky if she didn’t boot him out of there.

“Take a load off,” she suggested, pulling out a chair. “I’d join you, but with this noodle strainer of a brain of
mine, I’m afraid of burning the batch of cookies in the oven.”

Content to watch as she slid tray after tray of fresh-from-the-oven chocolate chips and peanut butter puffs onto tea towels, Adam barely noticed the passage of time. He knew he’d never tire of listening to her chatter happily about the church’s Christmas bazaar and the Nativity play at Aleesha’s school. In fact, it seemed like an incredible shame to destroy this cozy mood by telling her the ugly truth.

But he had no choice. If he didn’t ’fess up, Buddy might just succeed in talking her into a walk down the aisle. Adam would rather have her hate him for the rest of her life than stand by and let
that
happen. No sense putting it off any longer….

“How long ’til you can take a break from that?” he asked.

Kasey peeked into a huge bag of flour. “Oh, another couple of batches, and I’ll be out of ingredients.” She met his eyes, tilted her head. “Why?”

He shrugged, cleared his throat. “Because…” Taking a deep breath, he started again. “Because there’s something I have to tell you.”

“My, my,” she said, grinning. She pulled two cookie sheets out of the oven, then sat across from him and folded her hands on the table. “This sounds serious.”

Aw, Kase,
he thought, groaning inwardly,
don’t look at me like that.
It would be hard enough to tell his tale, without having to tell it to that flour-smudged, wide-eyed innocent face.

“More coffee?” she asked, pointing to the coffeemaker. “Won’t take but a minute to brew up a pot—”

“No, thanks.” He was shaking more than enough without adding another cup of caffeine to his system. “Remem
ber Halloween night, when Wade and Marcy and Carole were talking about your dad’s, um, accident?” he began.

Kasey’s delicate brows drew together as she nodded.

“Well, I know more about it than I let on that night.” He hoped she couldn’t hear the quiver in his voice.

She turned her head slightly and stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He gulped. “I mean, I was there.”

Kasey sat back, blinking silently. Then she narrowed her eyes and said, “You were where?”

“At the cemetery. Near the railroad tracks. The dummy they found…we made it.”

He couldn’t bear to look into those big, glittering green eyes for another second, because if he saw even a trace of disgust or hatred there, it’d break his heart.

“Who’s ‘we’?” she asked.

Adam noticed that her usually lyrical voice had quieted. But still he pressed on. Totally honest. He owed her that much. Let the cards fall where they may. “Travis Garrison, Luke Matthews, Wade, Buddy and me.”

She clucked her tongue. “Buddy!”

He shook his head. “Yeah.” Adam couldn’t make himself say it was all Buddy’s idea, because nobody had held a gun to his head. He could have walked away…if only he’d had the courage. No, Adam intended to take this on the chin, like a man. He folded his hands on the table and nervously tapped his thumbs together.

“We—I— Nobody was…” He heaved a sigh. “We weren’t thinking. That’s the plain truth of the matter. A bunch of juvenile delinquents is what we were.” And running a hand through his hair, he added, “Not that that’s any excuse for what we did….”

Her silence was deafening. If she didn’t say something,
do something soon, Adam thought he might die of misery, right there in her cookie-filled kitchen.

“How long have you known?”

He looked up, stared into her face. “Known what?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Known that I’m his daughter.”

Pressing his fingertips into his eye sockets, he said, “Since you came to the cabin that night. You looked familiar, right off the bat, but when you said your name—”

“Looked familiar?” She shook her head. “I don’t get it.”

Adam slid the wallet from his pocket, showed her the laminated article he kept in a credit card slot. “I’ve been carrying this around since the day after…to remind me what I am, what I was.” Absentmindedly, he rubbed the welts on the back of his hand.

Kasey took the article, turned it over and over. Then her hand shot out and she grabbed his wrist. “What’s that?” she asked, nodding at the scratches.

He slid his hands into his lap. “Nothing. Just some—” He cleared his throat again, and wished he’d let her make that pot of coffee when she’d offered, because he sure could use something to wet his whistle about now.

She lifted her chin, shot a suspicious glance at him, then turned him loose and read the article. Running the pad of her thumb over the black-and-white photo of her father’s smiling face, she clenched her jaw. “You’ve been carrying this around with you—” Kasey’s green eyes bored hotly into his “—for
fifteen years?
”

All he could do was nod.

“Why?”

Licking his lips, Adam swallowed. “Like I said…to remind me of what I was. What I am.” He reached across the table and, palm up, waited for her to return the article.
When she did, he stared at it for a minute, then poked it back into its leather slot and returned the wallet to his pocket.

He could see that his truth had hurt her, hurt her badly. He knew, because tears shimmered in her bright eyes, making them look greener—if that was possible—making them look bigger and even more innocent. If there had been any other way to protect her from Buddy, Adam gladly would have seized it, because he’d rather cut off his right arm, give up cardiology altogether, than cause her so much as a moment’s pain.

He’d given a thought or two to a direct confrontation with Buddy, but he knew the man well enough to realize that would only goad him into moving the wedding date up. And he couldn’t have that. Adam knew Kasey deserved better than the likes of him, and she
definitely
deserved better than Buddy Mauvais!

“So tell me, Adam. What were you, Adam?” She leaned forward. “What
are
you?”

Frowning, he bowed his head. “Just a sorry excuse for a man.” He met her damp eyes. “A man who thinks the world of you, despite how this looks….”

Pressing her fingertips to her lips, Kasey stared at the floor. “I don’t mean to be rude, but…”

“…but you’d like me to leave.”

She only nodded.

Adam got to his feet. He’d more or less expected that. Actually, he’d expected much worse. At least she hadn’t said she hated him, that she never wanted to see him again.

He decided not to push his luck. If he went now, gave her a couple of weeks to think things through, maybe she’d give him another chance…a chance to prove how much he’d like to make it all up to her…how he’d love her ’til he drew his last breath.

“Wait,” she said, standing. “You forgot your cookies.”

Cookies?
He must be hearing things! Surely she didn’t intend to send him home with treats after—

“Which do you prefer, chocolate chips or cherry filled?”

He shook his head as guilt pounded in his heart. “Doesn’t matter. Anything. Whatever you… You don’t have to…”

But she’d already gathered a couple of dozen cookies, overlapping them in tidy circles on the plate. She was tearing off a sheet of plastic wrap when she said, “Don’t worry about the dish.” She tucked the cover around its rim. “You can bring it back whenever—”

He didn’t know what possessed him to do it— The lost little-girl tone in her voice? The way she fussed over him, even after his confession?—but Adam couldn’t resist gathering her to him. “Aw, Kasey,” he groaned into her curls. “God knows I’m sorry—sorrier than you’ll ever know.”

He felt her tense up, sensed that maybe she was about to agree with him, and he held up one hand. “No…don’t say anything. At least, not now.”

Part of him wanted to hold her at arm’s length, beg her pardon. And part of him was terrified to do just that, because what if he saw revulsion in her beautiful eyes? “Just don’t hate me, Kasey, okay, ’cause much as I know it’s exactly what I deserve, I don’t think I could stand that.”

He didn’t deserve to be holding her, either, so he thanked God that she hadn’t pulled away. If Kasey would let him, Adam thought he might just stand there for the rest of his days, hoping for her forgiveness.

“I could never hate you,” she said after a while.