His Healing Touch (24 page)

Only then could he summon the courage to take a cautious step back, to take a look at the exquisite face that he’d been seeing in his dreams since that night in his cabin.

Until she reached up and wiped a tear from his cheek,
he hadn’t even realized he’d been crying.
Oh, you’re a fine specimen of a man, Thorne,
he thought bitterly, swiping at the remaining tears.

“I need a little time,” she whispered as the pad of her thumb brushed his damp lashes. “I hate to be such a big baby, but I’d like to think things through, pray, and—”

What’s wrong with this picture? he wondered, acknowledging that she had, in so many words, just apologized to
him!
“Kasey…”

Her brows lifted slightly as she looked up at him. “What?”

Adam felt his lip quiver as he drew her close again. “Just…” he rasped, “I love you, that’s what. And if it takes the rest of my days, I’ll—”

She lay a finger over his lips, effectively silencing him. “Adam.”

He looked into her face, into her wonderful, lovely face. She tilted her head, sent him a soft, sweet smile. If he didn’t know better, Adam would have said her expression was…was
loving.
“What?”

“Just…”

So far, she’d echoed everything he’d said. Dare he hope she’d say—

“…just get outta here, and don’t forget your cookies, okay?”

He didn’t know what he’d ever done to deserve this second chance, but Adam intended to find out. Intended to repeat that deed, over and over. Maybe then the Almighty would see fit to let her utter those three, life-altering words.

He didn’t deserve that, didn’t think he’d ever live long enough to earn it.

But Lord knows, I’m just selfish enough to want it, anyway.

A
s the yuletide holiday approached, Kasey’s business more than doubled. Aleesha had been chosen to play Mary in the Nativity play, and Pat lost her eyeglasses—meaning Kasey had to chauffeur them both to and from the church between her own assignments.

Somehow, Kasey managed to get the Christmas cards in the mail on time, trim the tree and put the rest of the decorations up. With just over a week to go before the big day, she’d finished her shopping and gift wrapping, and except for hemming Aleesha’s costume, felt ready to celebrate Christ’s birth.

She thanked God for the many distractions that had kept her too busy to focus on everything Adam had said a week ago in her kitchen. Thanked the Lord, too, for allowing just enough time at the end of every day to reflect quietly on His Word.

Tonight, alone in her room, she slid her Bible from the bookshelf beside her bed and settled into the comfy old rocker that had been her grandmother’s. Since childhood, Kasey had been playing a game she called “Talk To Me,
Lord”…opening the Good Book to a random page, then closing her eyes as her forefinger found the passage God had chosen for her.

In a voice that was barely more than a whisper, she read I Corinthians 13:4–8 aloud:

“‘Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends….”’

It didn’t take long to figure out what lesson the Almighty was trying to teach her; other scripture came to mind to back up her assumption: “‘Love others as you love yourself”’ and “‘Put on kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness and longsuffering; forebearing one another and forgiving one another, even as Christ forgave you…and above all these things, put on charity, which is the bond of perfectness.”’

Kasey closed the Bible and held it to her chest, as, from out of nowhere, the image of Adam, contrite and humble at her kitchen table, formed in her mind. She saw yet again his trembling lips, his worry-furrowed brow and sagging shoulders—

And the bright pink abrasions that had scraped the backs of his fingers.

Emitting a tiny gasp, she lay the Bible in her lap and stared wide-eyed at her own fingertips, remembering how they’d unintentionally scratched the hand of the man in black.

She got to her feet, put the Good Book into its slot on the shelf and, face in her hands, stood stock-still in the middle of the room.
Buddy isn’t my generous benefactor,
she realized,
Adam is.
All these years, it had been
Adam
who’d showed up, like a knight on a white horse to rescue his damsel in distress.

And rescue her he did. Somewhere in the depths of her soul, she’d always known Buddy wasn’t the type to give so freely, so secretively; he wanted credit for every good deed he’d done…and some he hadn’t done.

His drive to be spotlighted and highlighted whenever possible brought a slice of good advice to mind: When you do something for someone, do it because it’s the right thing to do, with no thought of paybacks or praise;
that
was the true spirit of The Golden Rule.

If there had been any doubt about Adam’s heart before, this newfound awareness erased it, like two-plus-two-equals-four from an elementary school chalkboard.

It was some lesson in humility, realizing what he’d been doing all these years. Remembering how he’d struggled that night to keep his identity a secret awakened something in her.

She understood something else, too.

The plain, simple truth was that Adam’s gifts had been motivated by guilt. Guilt that, when he was still a boy, had bored deep into the very marrow of his bones, and grew like a cancer. His noble efforts to put on a brave face, to keep those around him from seeing his distress…well, that touched her, too. Because she’d seen the pain and grief on his handsome face, had wondered what had etched it there.

And now that she knew, Kasey intended to eradicate it, one furrow at a time.

Difficult as it had been, Adam had been true to his word and hadn’t called Kasey, not even to suggest a time when he might return her cookie plate. He looked at the dish now, empty save one cookie and a chocolate chip. He’d meted out the treats to make them last.

Picking up the last peanut butter swirl, he took a bite—not much of a breakfast, but better than skipping it altogether—remembering how cute Kasey had looked, measuring out and mixing up the ingredients for the cookie dough, the whole time wearing a streak of flour on her cheek as a sugar crystal sparkled on the tip of her upturned nose.

Grinning, he put the treat back on the plate, gently blanketing it with the plastic wrap as if tucking an infant in for a long nap. He intended to stretch this out as long as possible, because for all he knew, it might be all he’d have to remember her by. That, and memories of the way she’d looked into his eyes every time he held her, as if his arms had been responsible for warding off the chill of a lonely lifetime.

Adam sighed, padded on white-socked feet into his family room and flopped into his recliner. He turned on the TV, was flipping through the channels for the second time, when the doorbell rang.

Smoothing his sleep-tousled hair, he glanced at the clock. Eight-fifteen. Way too early to be Wade, and besides, didn’t his partner have an operation scheduled for nine?

The drapes were drawn, the doors bolted tight; he could sit right here and pretend he hadn’t heard it, if he wanted to. Adam turned off the television, craned his neck and strained his ears. Had his early-morning visitor decided to leave?

“Adam?”

Kasey.

“Adam, are you in there?” She punctuated her question with a long, drawn-out period of knocking on the door:
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat.

Silence.

Heart thudding, he sat up straighter.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat.
“Adam, I know you’re in there. I heard the TV.”

More silence, and then she said, “Are you aware this window beside your front door isn’t locked?”

Almost able to picture her mischievous grin, he got to his feet. She was guileless, as evidenced by her clumsy attempt at subtlety. The fact induced a quiet chuckle.

“I wonder what your neighbors would think if I stood on the railing and—”

Adam opened the door. One look into her pretty face was enough to warm him, head to toe, despite the frigid temperatures that had her bundled up like an Inuit. “You’re out and about early,” he said, waving her inside. “Making deliveries?” When she breezed past, he inhaled the light, feminine aroma of her shampoo.

“I guess you could say that.” Grinning, she held out another plate of cookies, this one piled even higher than the last.

“There’s still some coffee from earlier,” he said, closing the door. “Join me in a cup?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Nah. Too early for a swim,” she said, shaking her head.

Adam groaned and rolled his eyes. “That one’s old as the hills….”

“And twice as dusty.” She winked. “But it’s still funny.”

Oh, how he wanted to take her in his arms! “Guess y’had to be there,” he teased, instead.

“Is the kitchen in there?” She pointed down the hall.

“Uh-huh.” Adam was so glad to see her, so thankful to hear the friendly tone of her voice, that he didn’t care if he looked or sounded like an obedient pup as he followed her.

“I suppose Aleesha has told you she’s playing Mary in
the Nativity play,” Kasey said, setting the cookie plate in the center of his kitchen table.

Nodding, he said, “Not only that, but she expects me to get to the auditorium early enough to get a front-row seat.”

“Did she tell you that Mom is narrating it?”

Another nod.
She looks gorgeous,
he thought. “Yeah, I think she mentioned something about that.”

She sat down and folded her hands in her lap. “On second thought, maybe I’ll take that cup of coffee, after all.”

He was more than happy to oblige, and said so as he pulled a clean mug from the dishwasher. It seemed she planned to stay a while, and judging by her cheerful chatter, she hadn’t stopped by to read him the riot act—something else to be thankful for.

“So how goes it at the outlet mall?” he asked. His fingertips brushed hers when he handed her the cup. Like a Cupid-aimed arrow, the warmth of it shot straight to his heart.

As she filled him in on what she’d been doing for her new contract, Adam sat across from her nodding and only half listening. The other half of his concentration was too busy reacting to the music of her voice, the spark in her eyes, the radiance of her smile. He loved the way she used her hands when she talked, and under different circumstances, he might teasingly ask if she was part Italian. For now, Adam was satisfied to bask in the warmth of her presence.

“So do you want to meet us there, or would you rather pick us up?”

Adam blinked, uncertain how to answer, because truthfully, he’d blanked out everything but those last words. “I, uh…” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me.”
All I want,
he thought,
is to be with you.
He’d leave the where-when-how to the newspaper reporters.

“Just as I suspected,” Kasey said.

He didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.

Grinning, she narrowed her eyes. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said in the past ten minutes, have you?”

“Well, I, uh…” He chuckled. “’Course I have.”
Sorta,
he added mentally.

She crossed both arms over her chest and tilted her head. “Oh, really?” There was a teasing glint in her eyes. “Then, maybe you’d like to sum it up in a sentence or two—big challenge, I realize, when I’ve been going on and on like a—”

“Do you have
any
idea how much I love you?”

If he’d known his honest declaration would shut her up so quickly, so completely, he would’ve made it ten minutes ago. But then, he hadn’t planned to say it. Fact was, the words were as much a surprise to him as they’d been to her, though he’d whispered them that day in her kitchen. Still, if only she knew how precious she looked, sitting there all wide-eyed and slack-jawed….

And, oh, she was precious to him!

He watched as the pointy pink tip of her tongue dampened her lips, as thick dark lashes dusted lightly freckled cheeks. She looked up at him then, the green of her eyes dazing and dazzling and dizzying him.

Extending a dainty forefinger, she pointed. “Your coffee is getting cold.”

The stuff in his mug had been there since earlier that morning, but he took a swig of it, anyway, and swallowed it with a noisy gulp. “Look who’s talkin’.”

She took a prim little sip from her cup, never taking her eyes from his. The moment lingered, sizzling like a burger on a hot grill, fusing them one to the other like an invisible cord.

Then she got to her feet and, with a never-you-mind look
on her face, walked around to his side of the table. She gave him a gentle shove, telling him without words that she wanted him to push back his chair.

When he did, Kasey plopped unceremoniously onto his lap and raked her fingers through his hair. “Ever heard of a comb, big guy?” she asked, tilting her head.

Adam wrapped a tendril of coppery hair around his finger, wondering how to respond when she ran her palms along his beard-stubbled cheeks. “Going for that Don Johnson look, eh?”

He felt the heat of a blush creeping up his neck, turning his ears hot and making his scalp tingle. Until that moment, he hadn’t given a thought to what a wreck he must look, after a week of fitful nights. A barely audible groan escaped from him.

“Sorry,” he said again, “if I knew you were coming I’d have—”

“—baked a cake?”

Her off-key singsong interruption reminded him of the old hit parade tune, and Adam chuckled despite himself. Leave it to Kasey, he thought, to turn an awkward moment into something fun. Leave it to her, he added, to make him feel good…even when he didn’t deserve it.

He wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on her shoulder. “What I said before,” he began, nuzzling her neck, “I meant it.”

“Yeah,” she said matter-of-factly, “I kinda thought so.” And on the heels of a girlish giggle, she added, “You never answered me, though.”

Adam could only shake his head. Grinning, he said, “What was the question?”

“Are you meeting us at the auditorium, or do you want to pick us up? Keep in mind, before you answer, that if
you drive us, you’ll have to get there an hour earlier and be stuck an hour later than everyone else.”

Stuck?
Hardly the word he would have chosen. “I’d be happy to take you,” he admitted, realizing as he did that the invitation itself meant that Kasey had forgiven him, that she intended to continue including him in her life.

Forever?

A guy can hope,
he thought for the hundredth time since meeting her.

Suddenly, he remembered Buddy. Hard as it was to choke the words out, Adam said, “So will Buddy be joining us?”

“I doubt it.”

She’d answered awfully fast, he thought. “Why not?”

Kasey lifted his chin on a bent knuckle, touched the tip of her nose to his. “Don’t razz me, Thorne. You know very well that I told him to buzz off.”

He’d been a cardiologist for years, knew most everything about the human heart, yet there he sat, wondering if it was possible for gratitude to make one explode.

She leaned back. “Aren’t you going to ask me how he took it?”

“How he took what?”

She rolled her eyes. “My rejection, of course,” she said, before breaking into a round of merry laughter.

“I know how I’d take it.”
You’d go to your grave a miserable lonely old bachelor, is how,
he thought.

She blanketed his hands with hers, then frowned as she forced his hands to eye level. “You never said how this happened,” she said, stroking the fading red welts.

A look of pride and self-satisfaction brightened her face as she inspected his mostly healed wounds, telling him without words that she’d figured out exactly how he’d earned the scratches.