Kissing in the Dark (21 page)

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Authors: Wendy Lindstrom

BOOK: Kissing in the Dark
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“I did the same thing to my dad the first time he let me row his boat.”

“REAlly?”

“REAlly,” the sheriff said, in a squawking imitation that made Adam laugh. He grinned. “It takes some practice to get a good, even pull with both oars.”

“I didn’t think it would be so hard,” Adam admitted, looking behind him occasionally so he wouldn’t paddle them into a bank.

“You’re doing fine, son.”

A strange warmth filled Adam’s chest. If the sheriff married Faith, he would be sort of like a father. Adam didn’t like the sheriff’s lectures, but it was nice having someone to show him how to frame in a room or row a boat.

“We’re about to enter Lake Erie,” the sheriff said.

Adam peered over his shoulder to see a vast blue-green lake of water. His stomach soared with excitement, then dove in terror. The lake was huge.

They didn’t go far from shore, but Adam rowed until sweat rolled down his back and his muscles burned. When the sheriff told him to stop, he almost sighed aloud.

Their boat drifted and bobbed on small waves while they ate delicious slabs of ham and thick slices of bread that the sheriff’s mother had packed in the wicker hamper. They shared a quart of water, then the sheriff baited the fishing hook with a fat nightcrawler. He cast the line three times to show Adam how to do it. But when Adam tried it, he failed miserably. The third time his distance was better, but he snagged the hook on the lake bottom and lost it.

The sheriff didn’t seem to care at all. He just repaired the line and handed the rod back.

Adam wouldn’t take it. “I’ll ruin it,” he said.

“Adam, I’ve lost more hooks than I can count. That’s part of fishing. The first time I tried casting, I threw my father’s best fishing rod right into the lake. Sank like an anchor. I dove in after it, but the water was too deep to retrieve the rod. That’s one reason I fish close to shore.”

“Is that true?”

“I always tell the truth, Adam.”

Of course he did. He was the sheriff. And he was a Grayson.

Adam took the rod, but his mind was on Rebecca’s father when he cast the line. The hook and sinker shot over the water and landed with a soft blip six boat lengths away.

“Nice cast,” the sheriff said, but Adam’s jaw was clenched. He didn’t know anything about a stupid parasol.

“A fish is going to need a steam engine strapped to his tail to catch that hook you’re reeling in. Go slow and steady.”

“Yes, sir.”

Adam drew the rod up and cast the line again.

“Something eating at you today?”

“No, sir.” He reeled slowly, but his heart hammered. The sheriff wouldn’t be happy to learn that Adam hated his brother.

“You remember the talk we just had about speaking honestly, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” And Adam had just vowed not to lie to anyone ever again. “I’m angry, sir, but believe me, you don’t want to know why.”

“Is that a polite way of telling me it’s none of my business?”

A sick feeling rippled through his stomach, but he’d made a promise not to lie. “Your brother thinks I gave a parasol to Rebecca because I’m trying to court her.”

The sheriff’s eyebrows lowered, but he seemed confused instead of angry. “Did you tell Rebecca you wanted to court her?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you give her a parasol?”

“No.”

“Are you being truthful with me?”

“Yes,” Adam said, clenching his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

“All right then.” The sheriff gave him a nod as if to say Adam shouldn’t worry about this. “I’ll talk to Radford.”

“You believe me?” he asked, shocked.

“Yes, Adam. I’m trusting you to be truthful with me. Now go on and cast that line. I’d like some fish for my supper.”

Stunned, mind reeling, Adam obeyed, but his hook had barely hit the water when the rod dipped.

The sheriff gripped the pole and gave it a quick upward thrust. “You got him.”

“A fish?”

“Either that or a mermaid.”

Adam winced at his stupid question. “Should I reel him in?”

The sheriff released the rod and shook his head. “This fella wants to run. We’ll have to tire him out before we net him.”

The fish was pulling so hard he was towing the boat! Adam panicked. “I don’t know what to do.” His heart pounded and he tried to hand the rod to the sheriff, who wouldn’t take it.

“Just keep your grip firm and don’t let him run the line out.” He looked at the reel, then at Adam. “When the line slackens, reel it in. If he fights hard, give him a bit of line to run with. He’ll get tired before you do.”

The reel spun as the fish fought the hook. Adam locked his fingers around the rod, reeling when the sheriff said to reel, holding steady when the sheriff warned him to hold the line. Sweat burned his eyes, and his heart banged wildly in his chest, but he didn’t let go of the rod. The sun glared on the water and made his eyes tear, and half the time he couldn’t tell whether the fish was zigging or zagging.

“I’ll bet it’s a bass,” the sheriff said.

More like a whale, but Adam knew there were no whales in Lake Erie.

Whatever it was, it wanted loose. Adam kept a firm grip on the rod, sweating and reeling and praying, until finally, he landed the fish.

The sheriff let out a low whistle as he lifted the net and plopped the biggest fish Adam had ever seen into the bottom of the boat. “Looks like you’ll be bringing home supper tonight.” He propped his elbow on his knee and grinned at Adam. “Good job, son.”

Sweat stung Adam’s eyes and his arms ached like they’d been wrenched from his shoulder sockets, but he felt ten feet tall.

 

 

Chapter 19

 

Wayne Archer thumped his fist on his counter. “I’m telling you, Sheriff Grayson, the parasol was stolen. We displayed it in that stand right by the door, and Miss Richards has had her eye on it for two weeks. It was our fanciest sunshade, and I can assure you I would remember selling it.”

Duke rolled his shoulder to ease the tension that was climbing his neck. “Could Mrs. Archer have sold the parasol?”

“Certainly. That’s why I checked with her. My wife didn’t sell it.”

“Did you sell it, Nicholas?” Duke asked Archer’s son, the boy involved in the incident at school with Adam and Rebecca.

“No, sir.”

Wayne scowled. “I’ve asked all the necessary questions, Sheriff. We conducted a thorough search of our store and could not locate it. The parasol was stolen.”

“All right.” Duke sighed, wondering if he’d been wrong to trust Adam. Damn it, he didn’t want to be wrong about the boy. “I’ll need a list of everyone who has been in your store since Saturday.”

Wayne’s chin dropped. “That’s impossible. Nearly everyone in Fredonia frequents my apothecary.”

“It’s only Monday, Wayne. Surely you can remember who came in on Saturday and today?”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” he said belligerently.

“As a candidate for sheriff, you must know how important it is to have a good memory. If you can’t name the people who have been in your store—”

“I can name every one of them.”

“Good. I’ll come by in the morning for your list.”

“I’ll have it ready. Not that it will do any good.”

Archer had publicly condemned Duke for allowing two swindles to take place in town. After the unfortunate incident with Henry Oakley, the farmer, Duke had warned the residents not to sign notes for anybody, but Ernie Lorenzo did it anyhow and got swindled. Now Archer would add petty theft to the list of crimes Duke hadn’t stopped. The man was as relentless as a mosquito, and Duke had to walk out of the apothecary before he squashed the annoying bastard.

The man who’d swindled Oakley and Lorenzo was probably several towns away by now, working his cons on other unsuspecting farmers. Duke had sent a telegram with the man’s description and crime to every township in the county, and one to Buffalo, and another to Erie, Pennsylvania. That was all he could do unless the man came back to town. The parasol incident was an altogether different issue, though, and one that nagged him as he walked to his family’s sawmill in Laona.

Who, other than Adam, would give Rebecca a stolen parasol?

When Duke got to the mill, Radford was howling with laughter. Boyd’s hands were lifted as if proclaiming his innocence, but the look in his eye said he was guilty as hell. That’s when Duke noticed the soaked front of Kyle’s shirt.

Kyle set an empty water jar on a drag of maple logs, then stalked Boyd. “If you ever again stick a board up my ass when I’m drinking, I’ll beat you with the damned thing.”

Boyd gave him a lopsided grin. “I gave you a goose to see if you were awake.”

“I’ll show you how awake I am.”

Boyd danced away from Kyle’s swinging fists. Radford braced his ax on the ground, laughing himself to tears. Duke stood outside their circle, chuckling at Boyd’s shenanigans, but feeling removed from their horseplay. He had been missing too many of their conversations and jokes to fit in. He watched with envy as Boyd and Kyle laughed and wrestled in the sawdust pile.

Radford went back to chopping bark off a maple tree, but stopped when Duke approached him. “You need something?”

Duke shook his head. Radford would give him money, a warm place to stay, even his own body to protect his back, but Duke didn’t need any of those things. He needed to fit in here, and to be connected with his brothers. “I just wanted to thank you for helping me frame up Faith’s house.”

“You’d do it for me.”

Duke would do anything for his brothers. That’s how it was with them; they shared the load. Always had. Always would.

“I’m courting her, you know.”

Radford grinned. “Is that what all that drooling was about last week?”

As brothers, they had smart-mouthed each other all their lives, but Duke couldn’t join in today. The situation with Adam bothered him too much.

“If I marry her, Adam Dearborn will become part of our family.”

“Whoa!” The humor fled Radford’s eyes. “You’ve known this woman a month maybe? You’re falling a little fast, aren’t you?”

He was. He knew that. But he also knew Faith was the woman he wanted to marry, and that he’d lose the chance if he didn’t move fast. Faith and her aunts were the talk of the town, and any eligible man would jump at the chance to make Faith his wife. Her financial situation wouldn’t allow her a lengthy courtship. She needed a husband and provider now, and would be forced to marry soon. She wouldn’t have to wait or look elsewhere because Duke was eager to marry her. He wanted her companionship, her passion, her love. He wanted what his brothers had with their wives.

“Marriage will bring you more than a full-time bed-partner, Duke. You’ll be responsible for her aunts and her children. That’s a hell of a load to take on your shoulders, although I suspect Adam could benefit from a little guidance. That boy has a worldly, troubled look in his eyes that concerns me. And it should concern you too, if you’re really planning on marrying his sister.”

Duke’s sheriff’s pay, added to a generous income from the mill, would allow him to support all of them. Radford, who got an equal cut of the mill profits, would know that; he was just jumping to unfair conclusions about Adam and couching his bias in concern for Duke’s financial welfare. “Faith is his guardian. The boy’s mother died two months ago.”

Radford’s shoulders lowered and compassion replaced the wariness in his eyes. “That’s a shame. I feel for the boy.”

“Then let him be friends with Rebecca. He just moved to town, and she’s the only person who has been friendly to him.”

“He’s being too friendly. He’s giving Rebecca gifts.”

“Adam said he didn’t give her the parasol.”

“Rebecca thinks he did.”

“Did she see him leave it? Or did he tell her he left it?”

“No.”

“Then it’s unfair to assume he’s guilty. The parasol was stolen from Archer’s Apothecary.”

Radford blew out a breath. “Which makes this situation even worse.”

“Which means it could have been left by anyone. Or perhaps Rebecca got it for herself.”

Radford’s eyes sparked with insult and outrage. “If you’re insinuating that my daughter would—”

“Of course not. I’m just pointing out that other possibilities exist.”

“Well, I don’t like any of them. And I’m sorry for Adam, but I don’t want him around Rebecca. He needs to find a boy his age who can be his friend.”

“What’s so threatening about him befriending Rebecca?”

“He’s leading her astray. She never was in trouble at school until she met Adam. And now she has a stolen parasol in her possession.”

The irritation in Radford’s voice brought Kyle and Boyd over. Kyle brushed sawdust off his clothes. “What’s going on over here?”

“I invited Faith and the children to the mill this evening,” Duke said, but kept his eyes on Radford. “If you can’t be cordial, stay the hell away from them.”

“I never said I disliked the boy. I dislike his pursuit of Rebecca. I’m only guilty of being a father.”

“Wrong, Radford. You’re being narrow-minded and overprotective as always.”

Radford’s face reddened. “Maybe so, but at least my thinking isn’t clouded by lust.”

“You think this is about lust?”

“I think you and the lady should spend some time alone before you put your neck in a noose.”

Duke took a menacing step forward. His feelings for Faith went far beyond lust, and he felt insulted on her behalf.

Boyd stepped between them, clapping his hands over their shoulders. “If your bickering is going to lead to a fight, you two are leaving me in a real quandary here. I would wager on Radford winning, but then our good sheriff puffs up like a boiler ready to burst a seam and makes me reconsider. How’s a man to make a good wager when you’re both such hotheads?”

“No one is going to fight,” Radford said, turning back to work as if nothing had happened.

Kyle nudged Duke’s sore shoulder. “Before you overheat, I can use some of that steam to help move this timber.”

And so they went to work. Duke fumed silently, pissed at Radford, pissed at himself. Faith was deserving of more respect. She and the children would hopefully become part of his family soon, and Radford needed to lose his attitude.

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