B00CZBQ63C EBOK (23 page)

She handed it up to him, looking around for an easier approach.

“Here.” He bent down on one knee and stretched out his arm to her.

She took his hand, her stomach fluttering. “I don’t think—”

“Grasp my arm up higher.”

She stretched higher and gripped his forearm, his strong fingers circling her wrist in return. She placed her other hand on top of the log and dug a toe in a large crevice. “All right. If you’re sure.”

His grin was her answer. With a firm pull, he hoisted her upward.

The next thing she knew, she sat on her backside gazing at the waves crashing against the jagged stone outcropping just off-shore. “This is amazing!”

“I thought you’d like it.” He crouched, pressing a palm to the salt-washed timber for balance before kicking his leg out and plopping down beside her.

She brushed the sand from her hands and enjoyed the warmth of his thigh next to hers in the cool evening air.

Daniel reached into the basket, a boyish smile lighting his face. He laid a wrapped gift on her lap.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

She untied the ribbon and gazed in wonder at the set of watercolor paints and brushes of various sizes. Her heart skipped, her fingers stroking one of the wooden handles.

“I just wanted to add a little color to your life.”

A lump formed in Laurie’s throat. “I can’t wait to use them. I’ll paint something for you, first thing.”

After eating, the two sat in silence, watching the waves darken and the sky streak with red and purple. A tickle ran up Laurie’s arm every time Daniel’s thumb rubbed across her wrist. She licked her lips, growing dry and salty in the marine breeze. “You can see some lights over in Canada.” She pointed toward Victoria. “I can’t believe Johnny and those men row all that distance in the dark. How frightening.” After a pause, she added, “I promised myself I wouldn’t talk about him tonight.”

Daniel turned toward her, the last glow of the sunset reflecting across his face, accentuating the curve of his jaw. “Let’s not.” He pulled her hand under his arm. “Let’s have one evening where it’s just us. No family. No federal agents. No rum-runners. No drugstore.” He slid his arm behind her and settled it around her waist. “Just us.”

She felt the warmth and security of his arm and smiled. “I’d like that.”

The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver of anticipation through her. As he leaned in, she closed her eyes. Their lips met, his mouth warm against hers. After the gentle kiss, Daniel kept his face close, brushing his chin against her cheek.

Her breathing quickened and she lifted her lips back to his, wanting nothing more than to fall into their softness and not let the moment pass.
Too good.

He pulled her closer, his lips traveling across her cheek and temple. His fingers wound through the hair at the nape of her neck.

She pulled off her hat, enjoying the contrast between the cold wind and the warmth of his hand. She slipped her hands under his jacket, her cold fingers sinking into the warmth between his coat and his shirt. She slid her palm up the smooth fabric until she touched his shirt collar.

Daniel’s breath moved the hair just behind her ear and she closed her eyes, a tremor racing through her. His lips kissed her neck and she slid her hands around his back, pulling him closer.

Daniel paused, as if holding his breath, drawing back a few inches.

The cool air rushed into the space between them. Laurie’s pulse fluttered. “What’s wrong?”

He pulled back, his eyes unreadable in the growing darkness. “I—I think we should go.”

Laurie took a deep breath, releasing her hold on his waist, even as her heart cried for more. “Of course.”

Chapter
39

L
aurie snuggled deeper under the covers, trying to preserve the
remnant of the dream before it slipped away.

“Laurie!” Her father’s shout came a second time, startling her awake.

She flung back the covers and grabbed her robe from the chair beside her bed. “Just a minute,” she called back. Morning light filtered through the curtains, illuminating the motes of dust suspended in the air.

As the heavy footsteps approached, she pushed her arms into the sleeves of her robe and pulled the belt snug.

Her father stood framed in the doorway, shoulders hunched. “Where’s breakfast?”

She ran fingers through her tousled hair. “I overslept. I was out late.”

His brows rose. “Yes. I noticed you didn’t get home before I had to leave for work.” When she didn’t respond, he took a step forward. “You been gone a lot. Is it that Shepherd fellow?”

Laurie spotted her slippers hiding under the nightstand. She jammed her toes into them. “Yes, well, I have been spending some time with Daniel.” She felt a flush climbing up her cheeks. “I can make you breakfast now, if you’d like.”

He stepped aside and let her pass. “I was a little harsh with him the other day.”

She padded into the kitchen and reached for the breadbox. “I had heard something of the sort.”

He followed her, his voice gruff. “I’m your father. It’s my duty to look after you.”

Laurie cracked an egg into the frying pan. “Of course.”
When it’s convenient.

“Yeah, well. I’ll go wash up for breakfast.” He paused. “And if you see your brother today—tell him I need another couple of bottles, will you?”

She braced her hands against the counter. “He’s not bringing any more.”

Her father’s eyes narrowed. “He’ll bring it if he knows what’s good for him.”

Laurie gripped the robe’s belt, the corners of her vision fogging. “He won’t be bringing more because he’s knows what’s good for
you
. You need help. Daniel knows of a hospital where they can teach people to stop drinking.”

Dad wrapped his fingers around the back of the kitchen chair. “Oh, Daniel does? So he’s behind this sudden mutiny?”

Laurie crossed her arms. “No. I am. I’m sick of your drinking. I’m sick of cleaning up your messes and putting up with your tirades. Johnny’s not bringing you any more booze and I’m not waiting on you hand and foot—not until you agree to get help.” She plowed forward before her courage failed. “You can cook your own breakfast.” Laurie snatched the pan from the stovetop and dropped it into the sink, the hot cast iron protesting with an angry hiss. The half-cooked egg smeared into a streak of yellow slime. She hurried past her father, darting into her room and slamming the door.

Her dad pounded on the door. “Where do you get off talking to me like that? I’ve been working all night to keep this roof over your head. Get out here.”

The door rattled, but she kept a firm grip on the knob, tremors racing up and down her body. His footsteps tramped down the hall.

The silence sent a chill through her heart. She dashed to the closet and pulled on the first dress she found, her trembling fingers fumbling with the buttons.

When her father’s hand banged against the glass window, she shrieked. Dashing from the room, she pulled on a shoe as she hopped down the hall on one foot.

Hearing the glass break, Laurie sprinted for the door. When she arrived at Amelia’s home, her friend pulled her inside, eyes wide. “Laurie, why are you here so early?”

Laurie adjusted the belt on her dress. “My father’s in a rage. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You said he never hits you.”

Laurie shook her head. “No, but . . . ” She chewed on her lower lip. “I told him I wouldn’t stand his drinking anymore. And I convinced Johnny and Daniel to both stop supplying him with whiskey.”

Amelia took Laurie’s hand and led her over to the sofa.

Laurie perched on the very edge, digging her fingers against her knees to keep them from trembling. “I’ve never seen him so angry. I wasn’t sure what to do.”

Her friend sat down beside her. “You did the right thing, coming here. You can stay with us until this blows over. I’m sure Mama and Daddy won’t mind.”

Laurie’s throat squeezed. “What will they think of me?”

Amelia laid her hand on Laurie’s back. “They won’t ask. We’ll just say your father is working night shift and you don’t want to stay alone. That much is true—isn’t it?”

Laurie sniffled. “Yes. He’ll be working nights for two more weeks, at least.”

“Perfect. And with him working nights and you working days—you’ll hardly see him anyway. It’ll give him time to cool off. Maybe sober up.”

Laurie leaned back against the soft, cushioned back, her knotted stomach muscles unwinding. “Maybe.”

Daniel pulled open the back door as an angry voice cut through the store. “I’ve had a standing prescription here for years, Larson!”

Daniel leaned against the frame and listened. No need to rush in and stir the pot.

His grandfather’s calm, soothing voice answered, “Yes, Mr. Burke. I know that. But our files are still a jumbled mess, thanks to that federal agent and his colleagues. Your prescription is missing, it seems. I’ll put a call in to Dr. Pierce and have him issue you a new one.”

“And how long is that going to take?”

“I’ll send a message over to him this morning. If he’s in the office and gets right back to me—perhaps by this afternoon. I could telephone you as soon as we have it filled. Perhaps your daughter could pick it up on her way home from work. We’ve been seeing quite a bit of her around here. She’s a good girl, your Laurie.”

Daniel held his breath, but he couldn’t make out Mr. Burke’s response. From where he stood, it sounded like a guttural growl.

His grandfather’s voice remained even. “That’s fine. I’m sure we’ll get this figured out quickly, Mr. Burke.”

Daniel edged down the stairs to the basement, running his hand along the cold metal handrail. The cabinets and cupboards stood in neat order, all reorganized and cleaned since Brown’s visit. What had seemed a disaster at the time had actually proven to be a benefit. Daniel and his granddad had gone through every paper, discarding the old, filing the important, and doing a thorough reorganization.

Granddad’s voice echoed down the stairs. “You hiding out down there?”

Daniel chuckled. “Is the coast clear?”

“For now, but I think your young lady’s father is on the warpath and you’re on his ‘most wanted’ list. Now get up here. We need to talk. And I’ve got a stack of prescriptions for you to compound.”

Daniel took the steps two at a time, retrieved his white coat from the storeroom peg, and joined his grandfather at the pharmacy counter. “At your service.”

Granddad snorted. “And in my debt, I believe.” He handed Daniel the first slip and gestured toward the supply shelves. “Now while I’ve got you as a captive audience, would you care to tell me what’s going on?”

Daniel glanced over the prescription before meeting his grandfather’s eyes. “Ray Burke is a lush.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know.”

“He’s a mean drunk. He’s hurtful to his family. I can’t condone that. I refuse to contribute to it.”

Granddad leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “Is he hitting Laurie?”

Daniel gathered the list of ingredients and began making measurements. “She says he isn’t. But I know he used to knock Johnny around when we were kids. And I’ve witnessed his temper. We shouldn’t be handing him more ammunition.”

“I’ve told you, that’s not our decision to make.”

“We don’t have to sell it to him. There are other options folks could use.”

His grandfather pulled another slip off the stack. “And many of those options are worse than liquor—you know that. Not everyone who buys alcohol is a drunk.

Daniel reached for the pestle. “But we do choose what items to carry in the store. And we can choose not to serve certain customers.”

“Not if we want to stay in business for long.”

Daniel brought the pestle down with a bang. “Granddad, Burke is a miserable drunk and I refuse to sell him his poison of choice.”

His grandfather narrowed his eyes. “Raymond Burke is the father of the woman you love. Don’t you think you’re a bit too close to this for a rational decision?”

Turning to face his grandfather, Daniel pushed down the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “It’s because I’m so close to this that I understand Ray Burke’s problem.” His chest ached. “Granddad, I’ve been there.”

His grandfather set down the jar he was holding and pulled off his glasses.

Daniel pressed his hands against the pharmacy counter for strength. “It’s time you knew the truth.”

Chapter
40

I
don’t understand it,” Johnny said. “He’s been too quiet.”

Laurie pushed open Amelia’s screen door with her hip, balancing a tray filled with a pitcher of lemonade and four glasses. “Can’t we just be thankful for that? Maybe he’s realized booze isn’t the answer.” She set the drinks on a small wrought-iron table.

Daniel took a glass. “It’s too soon for that. And I agree with Johnny. It was too easy.”

Johnny accepted the glass from Amelia’s hand. “He hasn’t called to ask for more whiskey in over a week now.”

Daniel nodded. “And he never questioned my grandfather when he told him that Dr. Pierce revoked his prescription.”

Breathing in the heady fragrance of the roses climbing the trellis beside the porch, Laurie sank down onto the bench swing, wishing she could enjoy the newfound peace in her life. But the peace felt artificial—like the eerie stillness before the first jagged bolt of lightning. “I haven’t even seen him since the morning I left.”

Amelia lifted her glass to her lips. “I think Laurie’s leaving may have been the incentive he needed. Maybe he’s decided to dry out on his own.”

Johnny curled his lip. “It’s going to take more than that to make him give up the bottle. He’s been drinking since before the war. If I had a dime for every bottle he downed, I’d be a rich man.”

Laurie’s heart wrenched at his bitterness. She had to believe there was still hope for their father. “So what do you think is going on?”

Johnny took a long swig of the lemonade. “I think he’s got a new supplier. I just can’t figure out who it’d be—the boys and I are pretty much the only game in town and they swore they weren’t selling none to him.”

Daniel leaned back and stretched his arm along the back of the porch swing. “And you believe them?”

“They got no reason to lie to me.”

Laurie tried to focus on the conversation, only slightly distracted by Daniel’s arm mere inches from her shoulder. Apparently he wasn’t brazen enough to put his arm around her in front of her brother. The thought brought a smile in spite of her somber mood.

Daniel cleared his throat. “What about moonshine? Sheriff Martinson came by yesterday and said that they’d broken up a still over on the west side last weekend and another out at the old Westerfield barn.”

Amelia frowned. “Do you think he’d go that far?”

A chill swept over Laurie. The papers were full of stories of people sickened or blinded by drinking bad moonshine.

“Sure he would.” Johnny leaned against the porch rail. “In a heartbeat.”

Laurie moved the cords and switches in a trance. The voices blurred together, her hands working without much help from her head. Sleeping on a makeshift pallet in Amelia’s room, Laurie missed the comfort of her own bed, but at least she slept without fear.

Except for the nightmares. She kept seeing Johnny floating face down in the water, his limp body rising and falling with the gentle lapping of the waves. She pushed the image away. “What number, please?”

“Laurie—it’s me.” Johnny’s voice spoke into her earpiece.

She gasped, the cord trembling in her fingers. Glancing around, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Why are you calling here? You know I can’t—”

“Laurie, Dad never showed up for his shift last night. I’m at the house—you need to come.”

Sweat broke out under her collar. “Now? I can’t—I—”

“Bring Daniel, if you can.”

Her stomach rolled at the quaver in his voice. The connection went dead, sending Laurie surging to her feet. She ripped off her headset.

All the women in the room turned, eyes wide. Mr. Quinn’s head jerked up, his perpetually pinched face widening into a gaping stare.

“I’m sorry.” She dashed across the floor, the sounds of her hurried steps echoing through the quiet room.

Laurie bolted out of the switchboard exchange and sprinted for the pharmacy. The bell pealed as she burst through the door. Marcie gasped and juggled a glass in her hand. At the pharmacy counter, Mr. Larson lifted his head, brows raised.

“Daniel?” Laurie yelped, blinking to keep the tears at bay.

He poked his head from the storeroom, mouth open. “Laurie?”

“My father.”

Not now. Please, not now.
Daniel threw open the Buick’s hood as he clenched his jaw. Recalling Johnny’s mechanics lesson before their lake trip, he peered into the motor, located the wires, and gave them a quick jiggle. Sure enough, one was disconnected. He pulled it up between his finger and thumb. “Now, where does it go?”

He eyed the machine, wishing he had spent more time learning how it functioned. He fastened the wire back into a likely looking spot, he leaned away from the hood and nodded to Laurie. She reached for the ignition. With a loud backfire, the engine jerked to a start.

Daniel closed the hood with a sigh of relief and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Your brother might just make a mechanic out of me yet.” Laurie’s pale, tear-stained face made it difficult for him to breathe. “Johnny didn’t say anything else?”

She lifted her hands, chin trembling. “Just ‘come.’ ”

He reached for the throttle. “No time to waste, then.”

Laurie’s knees weakened as she stared at the metal drums, containers, and copper tubing strewn across her living room. The sour smell burned her sinuses, sending her eyes watering. Even with the window standing open, the house was hot and steamy—worse than when she and Amelia spent all weekend canning peaches and pears.

“What . . .” She didn’t need to finish the question. She already knew the answer. Tears sprang to her eyes.

Sweat dripped down Johnny’s face and stained his shirt. “I got here an hour ago and found it. There are different barrels in the bedroom—looks like wood alcohol from the mill.”

Daniel appeared in the doorway, his eyes wide.

Johnny turned and faced the still. “I thought he’d find someone else making moon. I never dreamed he’d try it himself.”

The mixture of emotions in Laurie’s heart simmered, a burning sensation exploding in her chest. “What is wrong with the men in this family?” She kicked the door shut. She started toward the contraption, determined to tear it apart with her bare hands.

Daniel caught her wrist and dragged her back. “Can’t you feel the heat coming off it? And who knows what kind of nasty compounds are bubbling around in there?”

Johnny stood between her and the still. “I’ve already shut it down, Laurie. Drinking is one thing, but I ain’t going to let him burn the house down trying to make his own rotgut whiskey. I’d rather give him the real thing.”

“No!” Laurie yanked her arm against Daniel’s firm grip. “You promised.”

Johnny glowered. “You’d rather have him distilling wood alcohol in the living room?”

Some kind of horrid concoction boiled in her own gut. “Those barrels from the mill. How did he get them?”

“Probably stole them.” Johnny pushed open another window. “Maybe that’s why he didn’t show last night. Anyway, I’m getting rid of them and taking this blasted thing apart—piece-by-piece. Hopefully I can get done before he gets back.”

“Where is he?” Daniel asked.

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

Daniel pulled off his jacket and rolled up his own sleeves. “I’ll give you a hand.”

Laurie remained motionless, staring at the ramshackle piece of machinery in the heart of her family’s home.

As Johnny took a wrench and began pulling the pipes apart, dark amber liquid dribbled from a thin copper pipe and pooled on the floor.

Daniel snatched a towel from the kitchen counter. “If he’s drinking this stuff, he’s going to have worse problems than the sheriff on his back.”

Laurie strode for the back door, propping it open and taking deep gulps of the fresh air.

The Ford stood ajar in the yard, the driver’s door hanging open. She stood frozen for a long moment before stumbling forward and running down the steps. Her father’s prone shape lay sprawled in the dirt.

Laurie fell to her knees at his side, her hands fluttering across his back and arms, unsure what to do first. He felt cold to the touch. Her own wheezing, whimpering breaths filled her ears. “Dad . . . Dad—”

Footsteps sounded on the porch. “Laurie?” Daniel’s alarmed voice rang out.

She rolled her father to his back, his head lolling against her lap.

Daniel pounded down the steps and knelt at Laurie’s side.

A whirlpool formed around her, sucking away her breath, her life, her emotions. “Just tell me he’s not dead,” she whispered.

Daniel touched his face. “He’s still breathing, but he’s been out here a while.”

Johnny appeared at Daniel’s side, face ashen. He reached for his father’s arm. “His skin is as cold as ice.”

“Let’s get him inside.” Daniel shoved his hands under her dad’s back and hooked his wrists under his arms. Johnny seized his legs and lifted, grunting.

Laurie scrambled to her feet and followed as the men hauled her father up the wooden steps. Daniel and Johnny carted him to the bedroom and lowered him to the mattress.

“Shouldn’t we take him to the hospital?” Laurie grabbed blankets and tucked them around her father’s cold frame.

“And tell them what, Laurie?” Johnny snarled. “You want him to go to jail for this still? And do you think they’re going to believe I wasn’t involved?”

Her throat closed. “Better in jail than dead!”

“Be quiet, both of you. Let me take a look at him.” Daniel leaned over her father, pressing back one of his eyelids.

Laurie pressed her hand against her mouth, biting back the sobs that threatened to climb up her throat.

“Can you tell?” Johnny hovered on the far side of the bed. “Is he dying?”

Daniel stood upright, his fingers splayed on Dad’s brow. “It doesn’t look good to me, but I’m not a doctor—”

Her father choked, his eyelids parting, eyes rolling in their sockets.

Laurie jumped forward and grabbed his legs, as if to hold him on the bed.

“Quick—roll him on his side.” Daniel jammed his hands under Dad’s shoulder and shoved him toward Johnny.

Johnny caught and steadied him just as he choked and vomited a stream of vile-smelling liquid across the bedding.

“What’s happening?” Laurie grabbed a sheet and mopped her father’s face.

Daniel grimaced. “His body’s trying to clear the toxins.”

Her dad’s movements slowed and stopped. Daniel rolled him to his back.

“That’s good, then. It should help, right?” Laurie leaned forward and touched her father’s ashen skin, fear expanding in her chest until there was no room for her lungs. “Could we call Dr. Pierce? He wouldn’t say anything.”

Daniel’s hand settled on her shoulder. “I think we’re past that. He needs to go to the hospital—no matter the consequences. We don’t know how much of that poison he’s ingested.

“It’s just a little moon.” Johnny’s face paled.

Daniel’s eyes flashed. “Methyl alcohol—wood alcohol—is not easy to distill. Who knows what else was floating around in there? Formaldehyde? Lead? Turpentine?” He scowled. “If we do nothing, he might die. You want to gamble with his life?”

Laurie headed for the bedroom door. “I’m telephoning for help.”

Johnny’s arm reached out and caught her by the hand. “Just get the door, Laurie. We’ll take him ourselves.”