Secrets in the Stone (10 page)

“You
will
call your father if you have any doubts.”

“I promise,” Adrian said with a sigh.

“All right then. Is everything else all right?”

“Everything is fine,” Adrian replied automatically, giving the response she had learned to give whenever any member of her family expressed concern about her. Because if she didn’t, she would quickly find someone else taking charge. “Now, go enjoy that wonderful weather. That’s what you’re down there for.”

“I’m having lunch with Ida and Annette. I’ll send them your regards.”

“Please do.” Adrian hadn’t seen her grandmother’s two best friends for several years, but remembered them very well from her visits over the years. Ida and Annette wintered in Florida in the same condominium complex as her grandmother. The three women, all widowed, were all members of Ford’s Crossing’s upper echelons.

“I’ll talk to you soon, darling.”

“Good-bye, grandmother.”

Adrian finished the call and put the phone back on the counter. The pounding overhead had stopped. She started the automatic coffeepot, assuming that Rooke and Dominic would be coming down soon. She kept thinking about her grandmother pronouncing Rooke “slow,” and couldn’t imagine what had led to that rumor. When she and Rooke had talked, she’d found Rooke to be serious and intent, but also subtly humorous and pleasantly direct—anything but slow. More importantly, when they had touched, she’d sensed barriers and reserve, yes, but also strength and honor. Rooke was a complex woman, and if she’d allowed a whole town to think she was not, there must be a very good reason.

When the doorbell rang, Adrian quickly set the mug she was holding down on the counter and spun toward the front door with a surge of excitement. Just as quickly, she mentally admonished herself for the reaction. She was letting her inexplicably volatile emotions run away with her these days. Taking a slow breath, she walked down the hall and opened the door. Dominic stood just in front of it with Rooke behind him. They were almost the same height.

Dominic’s eyes were alight with good humor and confidence. “Rooke here said something about coffee. I sure hope you weren’t teasing.”

“Not at all.” Adrian returned his smile absently as her gaze swept past him to Rooke, who regarded her with dark-eyed intensity. Rooke and Dominic were like night and day—she was the dark to his light, the gravity to his bright joy. Adrian hadn’t thought herself drawn to the darkness until that moment, when she suddenly pictured herself walking in the moonlight, her hand clasped in that of a figure whose face was cloaked in shadows. In the fleeting vision, the moonlight, and not the sun, illuminated her world with stunning clarity, as if all the answers to her questions lay just ahead on that silvery path. With a start, she realized she was blocking the door.

“Come in,” Adrian said, turning to lead them down the hall to the kitchen. “How were things up there?”

“Tarzan did most of the reconnaissance,” Dominic said.

Adrian looked back in time to see Dominic grin and shoulder-butt Rooke.

“Tarzan?” Adrian asked, smothering a smile when Rooke blushed and shot Dominic a glare. The two of them acted like siblings, although Rooke clearly didn’t like being teased and Adrian didn’t want to embarrass her.

“She can climb anything, although she doesn’t swing from branches much anymore.”

“Dom,” Rooke growled.

Adrian laughed and gestured to the table. “Sit down.”

“Most of the damage to the roof is surface stuff.” Rooke pulled out a chair and Dominic followed suit. “Some slate will need to be replaced and a section of sheathing and slats is torn up.”

“How big a job are we talking about?” Adrian poured coffee into the mugs she’d lined up on the counter. Her hands shook. She was nervous, which was absurd. She hadn’t been nervous facing down a lion that had wandered into camp in Kenya, where she’d been doing a story on Doctors Without Borders. Or when she’d informed her entire family over dessert on her eighteenth birthday that she was a lesbian. Talking to two perfectly pleasant people in the comfort of her grandmother’s kitchen was hardly threatening. Tired. She was just tired. Too much traveling, too little time to de-stress.

“To do the work—a couple of weeks if the weather clears and the materials come in pretty fast,” Rooke said. “Getting the slate might take some time. Not that much call for slate roofs any longer.”

Adrian handed Dominic a cup of coffee and placed another mug in front of Rooke. She noticed Rooke’s fingers were red, windburned, and quickly looked away when she had the sudden impulse to take Rooke’s hands in hers to warm them. Her gaze landed on Dominic. His cheeks were flushed as well. To cover her disquiet, she resorted to inane small talk. “You two look frozen. I’m sorry there’s no fire. This house just doesn’t heat right without one going.”

“Nothing this coffee won’t cure.” Dominic took a sip and made an appreciative noise. “Definitely beats the stuff Rooke usually makes back at the shop. Now, this I wouldn’t mind standing around in the cold for.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Adrian said, avoiding his eyes. She wasn’t offended by his mild flirtation, but she didn’t want to encourage him either. “I’m a tea drinker myself.”

“Well, next time, you have to make me tea,” Dominic said.

Rooke stood abruptly. “I need to take a look at the fireplace.”

“I closed the doors to the parlor because there was so much cold air coming in through the opening in the chimney.” Adrian put her teacup down. “I’ll show you the way.”

“I can find it,” Rooke said. “No point in you getting cold.”

Before Adrian could argue, Rooke slipped out of the kitchen and was gone.

“She didn’t even drink her coffee,” Adrian said, looking after her. “Does she ever sit still?”

“She’s fine,” Dominic said. “Always happiest when she’s working.” He glanced casually at the yellow legal pad Adrian had left next to her laptop on the table. “Huh. You’re into gravestones too?”

“Yes,” Adrian said. Somewhere over the course of the morning what had started out as passing curiosity had blossomed into an idea for an article. The fact that the research would provide a reason to see more of Rooke Tyler was an added bonus. “I’m interested in seeing how the changes in grave markings parallel the social transitions within a community.”

“Uh-huh,” Dominic said with enthusiasm. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. Stillwater Cemetery is a few hundred years old. Everyone who’s anyone in the whole county is buried there. At least that’s how my father always told it.”

“Really. And you and Rooke work there.”

“Rooke
lives
there. She knows every marker in the place, and the story behind it.”

Adrian leaned forward eagerly. “She lives at the cemetery? I know it was common in the past for caretakers to have a house on the grounds, but that’s got to be unusual today.”

He shook his head. “Not around here. There’s been a Tyler living at Stillwater since Ford’s Crossing was founded.”

Adrian quickly made a note to find the County Historical Society office and gather the names of the prominent local families. Ideas rushed through her head, and she flipped a page and scribbled a to-do list. “And Rooke does all the carvings?”

“She does all the stonework, period. Markers, crypts, big fu…frickin’ statues. If it’s stone, Rooke does it.”

Adrian put the pad aside. “By herself?”

“The carving and fancy work. Yeah. What she does—hand carving—not many people do that anymore. Most of it’s done with stencils and power tools.” Dominic shrugged. “The families who can afford Stillwater want one-of-a-kind. She’s the only one who can do that.”

“How did she learn?” Adrian put her pen aside, fascinated to contemplate what it must have been like for a young girl learning such an ancient trade. She remembered the strange vision she’d had of Rooke, or who she thought of as Rooke, guarding the gates of an ancient fortress. Rooke building monuments of stone made perfect sense.

“From her grandfather, I guess. That’s how it goes around here, pretty much.”

“If I wanted to look around, that would be all right?”

Dominic’s eyes lit up. “Hey. Any time you want a guided tour, just let me know. It’s a big place—over a hundred acres.”

“Thanks,” Adrian said, instantly regretting mentioning her desire to visit. He was a nice enough guy, but she didn’t want any misunderstandings. And if she wanted a tour guide, it would be Rooke. “I’d kind of like to just wander. But I think I’ll wait until the weather’s a little better.”

“If you change your mind, let me know.”

“I will. Thanks.” Adrian grabbed the coffeepot and refilled his cup. Then she picked up Rooke’s. “I think I’ll see how she’s doing. You sit here and relax.”

*

Adrian slipped through the partially opened French doors leading into the parlor and paused, taking in the scene. Rooke stretched out on her back on the broad stone hearth, her head and shoulders inside the fireplace. From her vantage point, Adrian scanned the length of her body from the toes of her work boots, up her long muscular legs to her abdomen and the flare of her chest, before her body disappeared from sight. Clad in denim jeans and a work shirt, Rooke looked tantalizingly inviting, an alluring temptation that had Adrian’s skin misting with sweet anticipation. She caught her breath, imagining for just an instant the press of that hard body against hers, a strongly muscled thigh caught between her own, the soft swell of breasts teasing over hers.

“Dom?” Rooke’s voice echoed from inside the huge stone chamber.

“No,” Adrian replied hoarsely. “It’s me. Adrian.”

Rooke jerked, and then her head and shoulders appeared. She sat up quickly, a flashlight in one hand and a black smudge down one cheek. “The lower third looks solid. Quite a bit of damage above that, but the worst of it is up near the top.”

“I see.” Adrian struggled to gather her wits. She wasn’t prone to random sexual fantasies, at least she never had been before. Rooke seemed to have changed all that. “That’s good, right?”

“We won’t have to dig out the foundation.” Rooke stood and brushed soot from the shoulders of her dark blue workshirt. “Your grandmother hasn’t had a fire in there this winter. Good thing.”

Laughing, forgetting her earlier unease, Adrian held out a coffee cup. “Here. You can probably use this after lying on those cold stones.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ve got a little soot…” Adrian brushed her thumb over the smear on Rooke’s cheek. Rooke went completely still and Adrian’s vision wavered, as if she’d stood up too quickly after lying in the hot sun on a summer’s day. Hands glided over her, outlining the contours of her breasts, the arch of her hip, the sweep of her thigh. Her flesh scorched, as if she stood in the blast from an open furnace, and her body undulated, yielding to the insistent touch. Her blood rushed and the roar of a train filled her head.

“Adrian,” Rooke said urgently, grasping Adrian’s forearms as she swayed. Her eyes were unfocused, her face washed clean of all color. Afraid she would fall, Rooke circled an arm around her waist. Adrian’s arms came around her shoulders, and Rooke found herself holding her. Automatically, she tightened her grip and slid one hand into the thick blond hair at the nape of Adrian’s neck. Her skin was on fire. Shock, then panic quickly gave way to a fierce driving need to shield her, protect her. Casting wildly around the room, she spied a blue brocade sofa on the far side of the room and instinctively swept Adrian into her arms. She crossed to it in three long strides.

“I’m sorry,” Adrian murmured, her cheek against Rooke’s shoulder. As the dizziness abated and her head cleared, she became aware of the rapid pounding of Rooke’s heart and the cool, gentle fingers cradling her neck. She trembled for an entirely different reason as she registered Rooke’s solid abdomen and chest supporting her. Despite her embarrassment and confusion, she reveled in the pleasure of Rooke’s embrace.

“Adrian,” Rooke whispered, kneeling by the sofa and carefully placing Adrian down. She lightly caressed her cheek. “What should I do? Should I call—”

“No,” Adrian said, grasping Rooke’s hand. As soon as Rooke’s strong fingers closed around hers, she felt better. And instantly humiliated. “I’m fine. I’m so sorry. I have no idea what happened.”

“I think you have a fever.” Rooke released Adrian’s hand and pressed her palm to Adrian’s forehead. “Your skin is so hot.”

Adrian laughed shakily. She could hardly say that if Rooke kept touching her she was likely to feel even warmer very quickly. She couldn’t seem to get her wayward body under control. “I just feel warm because you’ve been in this cold room.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Really, I’m all right now.” Adrian sat up and pushed her hair back with both hands. Her face did feel hot and she imagined she was flushed, and she hoped Rooke wouldn’t realize why. Her heart raced and her breasts felt tense and tingly. God, she wanted to be touched and Rooke was leaning so close, her eyes filled with concern and something else. Something a little wild and fierce, as if she were preparing for a battle. That look did nothing to calm Adrian’s rioting libido.

“Water. Should I get some water?” Rooke asked.

“No,” Adrian said gently, brushing her fingers along the edge of Rooke’s tense jaw. “You did exactly right. I’m fine now.”