His Healing Touch (8 page)

“What smell?” Wade asked. “All my schnoz detects is something good to eat.”

Carole shook her head and grimaced. Holding her stomach, she said, “Eww…I hope it’s not something
Italian.
” One hand over her stomach, she added, “I can’t do spicy food, y’know.”

Kasey was doing her best not to meet Adam’s eyes, because it was fairly obvious that Carole had come as his date. The notion hurt more than she cared to admit, considering she’d only met him yesterday. Still, it seemed an insensitive, inconsiderate thing to do—bringing an uninvited guest. But then, to be fair, she hadn’t told him he couldn’t bring his…
woman.

Well, that’ll learn ya,
she thought, straightening her back. “Let’s go into the family room,” she suggested, forcing a bright smile, “and I’ll get us all some iced tea to sip while we’re waiting for the—”

Carole waved a red-taloned hand in the air. “Oh, no. No can do,” she sputtered around the wad of gum. “Caffeine makes my li’l heart go pitter-pat, pitter-pat.” Winking at Adam, she sidled closer to him. “I’m savin’ that for—” she batted her eyelashes suggestively “—later.”

Kasey searched Adam’s face, hoping for a sign there had been some mistake, that this loud, aggressive woman was not his date. Because she would never have guessed Carole to be his…type. Unfortunately, his lopsided grin told her nothing.

“Carole’s in public relations. She just relocated here from Washington, D.C.,” Marcy explained, as they filed into the family room.

Kasey managed a stiff smile. “Congratulations.” And to Adam, she said, “You must be very proud.”

He blinked. Looked from Kasey to Carole, from Marcy to Wade, then back at Kasey. “Proud? Well…sure,” he said, as Carole snuggled closer still.

“I’ll get the iced tea,” she announced. “Carole, would you prefer a soda? Or maybe some herbal tea?”

“Got any wine? Wine I can do.” She winked at Adam. “It makes me…
mellow.
”

“No.” Kasey thought of Aleesha, and the example she’d tried to set for the girl even before becoming her adopted mother. “We don’t have alcohol in the house. Ever.” She wondered if Carole chewed gum to cover up the odor of tobacco on her breath. “No tobacco products, either.”

Carole sighed deeply. “Okay. I guess I can settle for some herb tea. You got honey? Or do I hafta use sugar? ’Cause processed sugar is really bad for a woman’s complexion….”

She fought the urge to say,
I’ve got honey,
honey. Instead, Kasey simply said, “Make yourselves comfortable.”

Alone in the kitchen, she pressed her forehead to the cool, smooth surface of the white refrigerator. As she had lain on the sofa in his cozy living room last night, she’d considered the likelihood of a woman in his life. But
that
woman? Surely Carole hadn’t helped decorate the cabin….

She held her breath and said a quick prayer for forgiveness. “You’re acting like a jealous girlfriend,” she whispered, turning on the flame under the teakettle. And she had no right to feel that way. Had no right to judge Carole, either. There must be
something
redeeming about her personality, because Adam was kindhearted and good and decent. If he’d chosen her—

“Need any help?” Marcy asked, peeking around the doorway.

“No, but thanks.”

“This is really nice of you, having a bunch of strangers over for dinner. I feel like Mother Hubbard, because my cupboards are totally bare!”

Kasey laughed. “I’m happy to do it. Adam was such a wonderful host last night, and he and Wade were such good sports, even after they got all muddy getting my car unstuck.”

It seemed Marcy hadn’t heard a word she’d said. “So tell me…what do you think of him?”

“Wade? Oh, he seems very nice. I think—”

“Not Wade, silly,” she said, grinning.
“Adam.”

She poked around in the freezer, grabbing ice cubes for the tumblers she’d lined up on the countertop. Considering what a fool she’d already made of herself, fussing over her hair and makeup, taking forever to choose
just
the right outfit to impress Adam, Kasey had no intention of admitting her real feelings to this perfect stranger. Even if Marcy did have a wide, friendly smile and big, honest brown eyes.

“He seems very nice. Polite, gentlemanly, intelligent—”

“You make him sound like a Boy Scout leader! C’mon, you can tell me. You like him, don’t you?”

Kasey poured iced tea into each glass. “Well, of course I like him. As I said, he’s very nice and—”

“Sure you like him. Everybody likes him. But do you
like
him?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

Kasey simply couldn’t bear to admit that she’d allowed herself to develop a crush on a man she barely knew.

A horrible thought suddenly occurred to her.

Maybe Adam, suspecting she’d grown too fond of him, too quickly, had brought Carole along tonight as a polite yet firm way of telling her he wasn’t interested in a rela
tionship. If that was the case, what difference did it make whether or not she liked him
that
way?

“Seems he’s already spoken for,” she blurted.

“You mean Carole?” Marcy’s laughter echoed from the yellow-tiled kitchen walls. “Adam isn’t interested in her!”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Kasey muttered.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.” The teapot began to whistle, and Kasey busied herself spooning honey into Carole’s cup.

“What
is
that delicious aroma?”

Kasey sighed. “Lasagna. I have no idea what I’m going to feed Carole….”

Marcy looked in the freezer. “Fish sticks, frozen macaroni and cheese, hot dogs, and two diet TV dinners.” Smiling, she met Kasey’s eyes. “You eat like a teenager, you know that?”

“Those are for my daughter.”

“How old is she?”

“Almost seventeen.”

“Seventeen! You don’t look old enough to
have
a kid, let alone one that old.”

“Well, she’s adopted. But I couldn’t love her more if she were my own flesh and blood.”

Marcy closed the freezer door and stood, one hand on her hip, nodding. “You’re one cool chick, Kasey Delaney. I think I like you.”

Now, how could anyone help but smile at a comment like that! Kasey flushed.

“Want my opinion?”

“Depends.”

“Feed Carole the macaroni and cheese. Seems right up her alley.” With that, she grabbed two iced tea glasses and
headed for the family room. “How long ’til supper,” she said in a loud voice, “’cause that lasagna smells
wonderful
and I’m starving!”

Balancing the remaining tumblers in one hand and the teacup in the other, Kasey followed Marcy into the family room. It might not be the evening she’d planned, but it sure wasn’t going to be boring!

“I
keep thinking I
know
you from somewhere,” Carole said around a mouthful of sticky macaroni and cheese. Using her fork as a pencil, she drew a circle in the air. “Your name is just…
soooo
familiar.”

Kasey shrugged. “Guess I have one of those names.”

“No, no. It’s more than just your name. You
look
familiar, too. I’ve seen your face someplace, I’m sure of it.” This time, she jabbed at the air with her fork. “But don’t worry, it will come to me.”

The woman’s smirk and intimidating tone of voice gave Kasey the opinion that Carole secretly hoped “it” would be something humiliating.

Marcy gasped. “Wait!
I
know why Kasey looks so familiar!”

Kasey held her breath and said a quick prayer for protection. Marcy seemed nice enough, but she’d been Carole’s friend for years. If there was any truth in the “birds of a feather” rule….

“Remember when we were in junior high, there was all
that news coverage about an engineer who died near Crescent Lawn…the night of Halloween?”

Carole narrowed her eyes, as Wade and Adam exchanged puzzled glances.

“Weird,” Marcy continued, leaning forward and lowering her voice, “that fifteen years later, to the exact day, we’re sitting in that same guy’s house!”

Carole’s brow furrowed. “What
are
you talking about?”

“Oh, c’mon. You were glued to the TV, ’cause like just about every other kid around here, you planned to go to Crescent Lawn on Halloween, too!”

Carole put down her fork. “You mean the guy who died of a heart attack that night was your father?” She lay a hand atop Kasey’s. “So
that’s
why you look so familiar. Your picture was all over the news.” She gave the hand a little squeeze. “Oh, wow. Oh, no. Kasey, I’m
sooooo
sorry.”

Kasey snatched back her hand, hid it in her lap. “It was a long time ago, and I don’t—”

“No, really,” Carole droned on, “it was heartless of me to bring that up. I’m sure it’s tough enough for you and your mom the rest of the year. But tonight…” She expelled a heavy sigh. “I’ll bet you were making last-minute adjustments on your costume when you got the terrible news that night, weren’t you!” Groaning, she sat back in her chair and buried her face in her hands. “I feel
soooo
awful!”

If she felt so awful, Kasey wondered, why didn’t she just shut up? “There’s fresh coffee,” Kasey said, rising. “And I’ve made spumoni for dessert.” She forced a bright smile. “Who’s interested?”

“I’m in,” Wade said. “If the spumoni is even half as good as that lasagna…” He smacked his lips.

Marcy nodded. “Me, too.”

Kasey met Adam’s eyes, and couldn’t help but wonder why he suddenly looked like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. She thought she heard a slight tremor in his voice when he said, “Sounds great.”

“None for me, thanks. I’m watching my weight.” Carole patted her flat abdomen. “But you guys go ahead and enjoy. I don’t mind watching you eat.”

“Good,” Adam said, none too gently, “because to tell you the truth, I don’t think any of us mind if you mind.” He stood, too, and grabbed the lasagna pan. Ignoring Carole’s indignant gasp, he faced Kasey. “Dinner was delicious.”

She couldn’t put a name to it, but something akin to guilt glittered in those dark brown eyes. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

Alone in the kitchen, he deposited the glass pan on the stovetop. “I apologize for Carole’s behavior.”

“Why?”

“Seems
somebody
ought to apologize for it.”

“Didn’t you say earlier that you’d only just met her?”

He nodded.

“Even if you’d known her for years, why would I hold you responsible for anything she’s said or done?”

He stared at the floor. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “I just feel bad, is all.”

She fixed the big smile on her face once more. “Hey, no biggie.” Sliding the plates into the pan of sudsy water she’d fixed earlier, she shrugged. “People like that keep us on our toes. They’re really good for character building, if—”

“You’re something else, you know that?”

Kasey blinked. “Because I refuse to let a few rude comments spoil my whole evening?”

He only stared.

“What?” she asked, after a few seconds of intense scru-
tiny. “Do I have mozzarella between my teeth or something?”

Adam smiled. “Or something,” he said softly.

She swallowed, cleared her throat and prayed like crazy that he couldn’t hear the wild beating of her heart, because for the life of her, Kasey didn’t know why his mere presence was having such an effect on her.

“So,” she said at last, “what say we get dessert on the table?”

He took a step forward, placed both hands on her shoulders.

The clock ticked, ice clunked into the freezer bin, her pulse pounded as he looked into her eyes. She could see an image of herself mirrored in the dark gleam of his pupils. Could he tell, as those dark-lashed brown orbs bored into her, that she felt almost as small and helpless as her minuscule reflection?

Adam slid his arms around her, pulled her close and rested his chin amid her curls. “Ahhh, Kasey,” he said huskily, “if only…”

He sounded so sad, so lonely. And she couldn’t help but wonder why a handsome, healthy doctor, with lots of friends, a home of his own and a successful medical practice, would be either one. “If only what?” she whispered.

The heat of his sigh warmed her scalp while the muscles of his chest hardened under her palms.

“If only we could get the dessert and the coffee into the dining room in just one trip.” And holding her at arm’s length, he said, “You gonna dish up the spumoni, or shall I?”

After dinner, Adam insisted on staying to help Kasey with the dishes. And though Carole protested, whimpering that she didn’t like riding in the back seat—which was
where she’d have to sit if Wade and Marcy took her home—he refused to back down.

“So,” Kasey said, rinsing a plate and sliding it into the dishwasher, “what do
you
remember about that night?”

Immediately, Adam’s mouth went dry and his palms began to sweat. “What night?” he asked, though he had a sinking feeling he knew.

“The night my dad died.” She feigned a tough woman-cop voice. “Where were you on the night of October thirty-first, nineteen and—”

“Carole is an idiot,” he interrupted. “An insensitive, coldhearted, brainless idiot.”

Kasey’s eyes widened. “Wow. Don’t be so wishy-washy, Adam.” She grinned. “If you have an opinion, you’re free to voice it in this house.”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I know that wasn’t very nice, but, well…she
was
behaving like an idiot.”

Kasey bobbed her head, telling Adam that while she might agree, she wouldn’t resort to name-calling. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Somehow, he’d known she’d come back to that subject.

“Do you remember that night?”

Remember? If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never forget that night.

Kasey sighed. “Strange…”

“Why?”

“Because, in the overall scheme of things, it shouldn’t have seemed like such a big deal to so many people. I’m surprised to learn any of you remembered what happened.”

“‘Any of you’?”

“I could tell Wade’s recollection was as vivid as Marcy’s and Carole’s. And you…” She turned to shove a
handful of silverware into the dishwasher basket. “Why, you looked as if you’d seen a ghost.”

With good reason, he thought. Never in his wildest imaginings had he expected to meet up with Al Delaney’s daughter, and not in a million years did he think he’d be this close to having her find out that he’d been involved in her father’s death.

“So, how much do you remember?”

He chose his words carefully. “I remember enough.”

She stood water goblets and iced tea tumblers upside down in the top rack. “I’m tougher than I look,” she said over her shoulder. “I’d really like to hear it, from an outsider’s point of view.”

Outsider?
As one of the guys who’d
caused
the accident, Adam would hardly call himself an outsider! “I remember reading the article in the
Sun
the morning after, seeing the photograph of your mom and dad and you.” Suddenly, it felt like that same photograph, encased in clear plastic, was burning a hole through his jeans pocket. “You were pretty, even as a little girl.”

Kasey blushed and rolled her eyes. “Men,” she said, laughing softly. “You’ll say just about anything to sidestep a difficult subject, won’t you?”

What had he said or done to make her think he was sidestepping? To make her believe he saw the subject as “difficult”?

Everything, he thought. But if hearing the truth meant she’d hate him, Adam admitted silently, then yes, he’d say just about anything. And surely she would hate him. Probably had hated him, from afar, since learning about the prank that caused her father’s fatal heart attack.

“Can I ask
you
a question?”

“Okay. Shoot.”

Shooting’s too good for me.
“What did you think—what
do
you think…about those boys who made the dummy?”

She sighed, a long shaky sound that wrapped around Adam like an icy wind.

“At first, I despised them.”

He flinched, and hoped she hadn’t noticed.

“But after a while, after a little maturing and a whole lot of time, I realized it wasn’t really their fault, what happened.” She sighed again. “They were just having a little fun. They hadn’t set out to hurt him. And besides, Dad had put a lot of effort into hiding his condition. There was no way they could have known he had a weak heart, no way they could have anticipated what might happen when that pumpkin-headed dummy hit the tracks.”

Relief coursed through his veins upon hearing she hadn’t spent all these years detesting them…detesting
him.
Still, it was all Adam could do to keep from hanging his head. “Like I said before, you’re something else, Kasey Delaney.”

She sent him a silly, lopsided grin. “Not really. Coming to that conclusion was easy.”

“As compared to what?”

“The energy it takes to hate.” She shrugged her dainty shoulders. “Hate is a lot of work. Besides, people said all sorts of ridiculous things, and even at my tender age I knew they were only speculating because they needed to blame somebody for what happened, when in reality,
fate
was more to blame than anything else.”

He wished he could tell all those people they could have spared themselves the effort. He’d blamed himself enough to satisfy the lot of them. “What sorts of things did they say?”

“Oh, that the boys were juvenile delinquents, that their real purpose was to derail the train that night. That they
weren’t kids at all, but criminals who wanted to create a distraction while they robbed a bank.” A funny little laugh popped from her lips. “I think they were just kids, bored teenagers with no malicious intent, no evil plot. It was just a Halloween prank that went horribly, horribly wrong.”

Well, she’d hit the mark on that one, but Adam didn’t dare admit it.

“I’ve prayed for them ever since I worked it out in my head.”

“Worked what out?”

“If they
were
decent kids, just goofing off that night—and I believe that’s exactly what they were—it must have been terrible for them, hearing what happened because of their ‘trick.’ I imagine they’ve spent as many sleepless nights as I have.”

“How could you know a thing like that?” he said without thinking, without caring that the question might well implicate him.

She poured soap powder into the receptacle in the dishwasher door. “I’ve imagined what might have happened—but they were
there.
” She snapped the door shut and adjusted the dial. “I’d wager their consciences have taken quite a beating over the years.”

She’d hit the mark so well this time, it caused an ache in Adam’s gut that he could only compare to the steel of a sucker punch.

“I’m glad I decided to serve dinner early,” she said, after a moment of silence. “The trick-or-treaters will start ringing the doorbell soon, and now I won’t have any distractions.”

“Mind if I stay?”

“Won’t it bore you silly?”

“Why would it bore me?”

“Well, for starters, you’re a footloose, fancy-pants doc
tor.” She shot him a teasing wink. “Carole is waiting for you….”

“Now, there’s an enticement,” he joked right back.

“Still, I’m sure you have more interesting things to do than drop lollipops and gumballs into trick-or-treat bags.”

“None that I can think of,” he said, and meant it.

Kasey headed for the front hall and grabbed her sweater. “I’m glad it isn’t very cold.”

“And the rain stopped.”

She nodded. Then, opening the door, she glanced at Adam’s corduroy shirt. “You gonna be warm enough in that?”

He shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

Kasey left him standing alone in the doorway and poked around in the hall closet. “Will this do?” She held up a red and black Buffalo plaid jacket.

It was way too large to be hers, and he doubted a teenage girl would wear such a thing. Which meant it had belonged to Al Delaney. No way he could put it on. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”

“What, not your style?” she taunted.

“No, it’s not that. I’m just… I’m afraid I’d rip a sleeve or something.”

She looked from Adam’s chest to the jacket. “You make a good point.” Hanging it up, she said, “I have just the thing, and I know it’ll fit.”

Before he could protest, Kasey had disappeared. He could hear her, rummaging somewhere beyond the kitchen. When she returned, she carried the sweatsuit he’d loaned her.

“All washed and fluff-dried,” she announced, tossing him the sweatshirt and hanging the pants over the banister.

As he slid it over his head, Adam inhaled the clean, fresh scent of detergent. Or fabric softener. Or both. His clothes
had never smelled like that, though he took them to the best laundry in town. He was seriously considering never laundering them again, when the doorbell rang.