Kissing in the Dark (17 page)

Hope filled his eyes. “You mean I can work there?”

“I think I can spare you two days a week.”

A crooked grin broke across his face. “Really?”

Duke had stopped just ahead to wait for them. She gave him a smile, but lingered with Adam. She needed his help at the greenhouse, but she knew he needed the job at the store. “Yes, you can work the store—and I’m very proud of you,” she said, then basked in his quick hug.

That’s when Faith saw Judge Stone in the crowd. Her blood ran cold. “Adam, get Cora,” she said.

“What?” He pulled away, confused.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. “Go, Adam.” The white-bearded, husky judge was heading right for them.

Instead of running, Adam gave Duke a frantic wave. Duke swept Cora into his arms and rushed to Faith’s side. He passed Cora to Adam, then gripped Faith’s arm. “What’s wrong?”

Judge Stone was thirty feet away, threading his way through the crowd, and she couldn’t move, not even to draw a breath.

Duke gave her a gentle shake. “Are you all right?”

She sucked in a breath and began breathing so quickly it made her lightheaded. He guided her to a bench where she collapsed in a trembling, gasping, terrified mess.

“Sheriff Grayson!” the judge called jovially, his voice as smooth as molasses. “Good to see you out and about.” The white-haired man thrust his hand toward Duke.

It wasn’t Stone! Merciful God, it wasn’t him. It wasn’t the corrupt judge with the grating voice that haunted her nightmares. This man was a friend of Duke’s.

Faith sagged against the back of the bench. How could she have been so careless? She’d nearly given herself away!

The man arched a white eyebrow. “Should I find a doctor?”

She waved off his offer with shaky fingers. “I just . . . I had a spasm in my back.” She gave the man a tremulous smile. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”

But she knew she would never be fine as long as she was looking over her shoulder for Judge Stone. It horrified her that she’d been unable to act, that she’d been too frightened to grab Adam and Cora and run. If it had been Stone, she would be in his clutches by now.

Duke introduced her to Judge Barker, who resembled Stone in size and coloring, but in no other way. Judge Barker was a kind gentleman with compassionate eyes and warmth in his voice. He invited Duke and Faith to his upcoming lawn party, then stepped aside with Duke to speak quietly for a few minutes.

Duke returned to her side alone. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

She clasped his strong hand, immensely grateful to have him with her. She may have been frozen with fear, but Duke would have protected her and the children.

“Should I take you home?” he asked.

She shook her head. She couldn’t spoil the day for Adam and Cora, “Let’s go watch the show.”

Her legs quaked as they crossed the fairground and found a seat in the stands. Adam and Cora were quickly captivated by the tumblers and jugglers. The equestrian act followed, with trick riders who rode standing on their horses’ backs.

“Evelyn and Rebecca can do that,” Duke said to Adam and Cora. “I’ll take you by sometime to watch them ride.”

“Can I ride a pony too?” Cora asked.

“If your mother says it’s all right.”

Faith put her fingers over Cora’s mouth before the girl could ask. “We’ll talk about it later. Watch the show, sweetheart.”

Adam and Cora shifted their attention back to the show where a clown was getting chased by a bull. The clown threw his floppy hat in the air and leapt over a barrel, making Adam grin, and sending Cora into a fit of giggles. Faith exchanged a look with Duke, needing his solid presence and the security he gave her.

“Sorry about the pony” he mouthed.

“You’re spoiling her,” she mouthed back.

He smiled. “I can’t resist.”

She felt her own lips twist. “I know.”

“I can’t resist you either, Faith.”

She watched the tip of his tongue caress his teeth as he finished mouthing her name, and she remembered the thrilling feel of his mouth and tongue when he kissed her in the bathhouse—and she wanted more. She lifted her gaze to his deep brown eyes that had gone from warm to smoldering.

“I’m glad you said yes today,” he said quietly.

“Me too.” She was glad for many reasons. Cora and Adam needed the treat. She needed to see them happy. And she needed to see Duke as a mate and a father, and as a man who could love and protect them.

While the circus went on around them, Faith and Duke studied each other, their gazes straying from mouth to eye to mouth again, until Faith was aching for his kiss. She liked what she saw, and wished they were alone in her bathhouse.

Adam’s burst of laughter not only startled her, it shocked her. Cora giggled wildly at two clowns in the ring, pretending to be boxers, taking wild swings at each other, pummeling each other’s red noses, stumbling, falling, and popping back up like puppies. The crowd roared with laughter, but it was hearing Adam’s laugh that was Faith’s most treasured moment of the day.

o0o

Six o’clock that evening, Duke returned Faith and the children home. He couldn’t have been more tired if he’d chased Arthur Covey across three counties, but the joy on Faith’s face made the ache in his shoulder and the exhaustion in his body worthwhile. Cora darted inside the building they were living in, with the bulging sack of peanut brittle he hadn’t been able to resist buying her.

“Look what we got, Aunt Iris!” she called.

“Thank you for taking us to the circus, sir.” Adam bobbed his head at Duke, then stepped inside. Duke expected the boy to keep going, especially since Adam had seen MacEnroy and Wayne Archer talking to him in the park after church that morning, but the boy turned back. “The ice cream was the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” He scooted inside then, leaving Duke alone with Faith.

She looked tired, but far happier than she’d been that morning. “I’ve never been to a circus,” she said. “I’m glad my first time was with you.”

He wished her first time making love could have been with him, but it was too late for that, so he would gladly be her last. All day he’d kept his conversation mild for the children, not al-lowing his gaze to rove her body, but he remembered how she looked in the bath that morning, dripping wet and beautiful, the more so for her tears.

Cora skidded to a stop in the open doorway. “Thank you, Sheriff Grayson, for taking me on a train ride and to the circus and for getting me a pork sandwich and ice cream and peanut brittle, and for the ride on the elephant and . . .” She scrunched her face and thought for a moment. “And for letting me sit on your shoulders to see the clowns ride the ponies.”

He laughed because she was such a little blabbermouth, and because her enthusiasm and the awe in her eyes was so real.

“You’re welcome, princess. It was the best day I’ve had in a long time,” he said, wanting more days like this, more time with Faith and her family, and hopefully more time alone with Faith in her bathhouse.

Iris stood behind Cora in the doorway. “I just made a pot of vegetable soup, Sheriff. It won’t be your best meal, but you’re welcome to stay for supper.”

A look of horror replaced the smile on Faith’s face. “I’m not eating,” she said. “I mean, I thought I would treat your shoulder now.”

Before Duke could answer, Iris pushed the door wide open. “This man took you to the circus today. The least we can do is feed him his supper—even if it isn’t much.”

Duke didn’t want to make their meal any lighter by eating part of it, but Faith, who looked ill, stepped inside and left the door open for him. He stepped in behind her and understood immediately why Faith didn’t want him here. The room was barren, and the only piece of furniture was the table.

Iris waved him toward makeshift benches, unashamed. “Pull up a barrel, Sheriff, and make yourself at home.”

Faith gasped, her embarrassment so acute it moved him to pity, not because of the condition of her home, but because her poverty shamed her so deeply.

“You can sit with me on my board, Sheriff Grayson,” Cora said without a drop of concern as she galloped to the table.

Duke lifted the little girl onto the wide board laid across two flour barrels. “Did you design this bench?” he asked, wanting to ease Faith’s discomfort.

“Adam made it,” Cora said.

Duke nodded to Aster, Tansy, and Dahlia as he swung his legs over the plank and sat down. He bounced on the board. “Good choice of wood, son. Nice and solid. I chose pine slabs from my dad’s sawmill for my first tree stand.”

“What’s that?” the boy asked, looking confused as he sat on a barrel at the end of the table.

“It’s a little platform you put in a tree. You nail a few boards together and secure it in a tree so you can sit up there and watch for deer.” Duke accepted a bowl of soup from Iris. “Thank you,” he said, purposely keeping his eyes off Faith while placing the full bowl in front of him. “I was your age when I made my first tree stand,” he said to Adam. “It was dead winter, and I was sitting in that stand when I heard this cracking noise. I couldn’t figure out what it was. Just then I spotted a brown bear twenty feet away walking right toward me. I thought he was snapping twigs beneath the snow.”

Adam’s spoon paused halfway to his mouth. “Did you shoot him?”

Duke shook his head and dipped his spoon into his soup. “That cracking noise was coming from the boards I was sitting on. They snapped in half and I fell. When I hit the ground, my rifle discharged and blew the stand right out of the tree.”

Adam laughed, and Duke congratulated himself for the small achievement. Faith’s aunts were smiling, but he still wouldn’t allow himself to look at Faith. He took a bite of his soup. It was tasty but meatless, and he was certain the lack of meat wasn’t from choice. Maybe this is why Iris had encouraged him to stay, so he could see how poorly they were living. Maybe he wasn’t the only one making judgments. Iris didn’t strike him as a woman who would seek sympathy or charity. Maybe she just wanted to see if he was the kind of man who could love a woman who had nothing but herself to offer.

“Did the bear get you?” Cora asked, her eyes bugging with fear.

“Naw,” he said. “The gunshot scared him away. But I remembered to use a good, thick piece of hardwood after that.”

“I saw a bear behind our house once,” Adam said. “He was trying to crawl in our window. When I asked what he was doing, he said he was looking for Cora.”

Duke felt his mouth quirk, but Adam took a spoonful of soup with a straight face.

“That’s
me
.” Cora tapped her spoon against her chest. “He was coming to see me.”

Adam backhanded his mouth, and Duke suspected the boy was wiping away a smile. “The bear said he wanted to take you for a ride, Cora, but I told him you would only ride ponies.”

Cora looked at Duke, her eyes wide and serious. “Would the bear bite me if I rode him?”

Thankfully he’d played these games with Rebecca and his nephews, so he answered with care. “A real bear probably would, so I wouldn’t be too friendly with one. But a storybook bear might give you a ride on his back.” He shrugged. “It’s probably safer to ride a pony”

“I’m going to ride my pony to church someday,” she said, her voice so wistful he wanted to go right to Radford and Evelyn’s livery and buy her that pony she longed for.

He looked at Faith and saw that same desire reflected in her face. She lowered her lashes and dipped her spoon in her soup bowl.

“Is a bear bigger than a pony?” Cora asked.

“I think it weighs more,” Adam answered, and the meal progressed with Cora asking questions and making them forget they were eating meatless soup and sitting on barrels and planks.

When they finished, Faith kissed the top of Cora’s head. “Sheriff Grayson and I are going to the greenhouse so I can put some balm on his shoulder. Help clear the table, and maybe Aunt Dahlia will read with you until I come back.”

Duke followed Faith outside, but stopped her near the door. “You don’t have to bother with my shoulder tonight. You must be exhausted.”

“It’s been a week since I’ve stretched your muscles.”

“I’ve been doing it myself.”

“Are you getting the same amount of stretch?”

“No.”

“Then we’d better do it tonight before we lose the progress we made last week.”

Even though he’d been stretching each night until he howled from pain, he could feel the muscles tightening up again. Faith’s treatment might have hurt like hell, but he’d started seeing some results before he’d left for Mayville.

They crossed the yard and entered the humid world of her greenhouse. When she reached for a stack of linens on the shelf, he caught her hand. “I’ll skip the bath tonight.” He couldn’t strip and soak in that tub without craving her in there with him, naked and willing to do all the things that had circled his mind all week.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” he said, then followed her back to the bathhouse. He sat on the table and removed his shirt, but his eyes shifted to the bath and he thought of Faith standing in the tub, dripping wet with her dark-nippled breasts peeping through the wet loose strands of her waist-length hair, and those deep gulping sobs wracking her body. He wanted to take her in his arms and protect her from everything that had ever hurt her.

She stood behind him, slathering an herb-scented oil over his shoulders and back. “I can do this better when you’re lying down.”

They could do a lot of things better if they were both lying down, but he clamped his mouth shut and stretched out on the towels she’d spread on the table. They were both silent, listening to the condensation drip off the water faucet while she massaged the muscles in his neck and shoulders. Sighing, he forced his thoughts from all the sensual ways he wanted to hold and kiss her, and remembered Adam’s scuffle with the Archer children last week. He debated telling her. She had more worries than she deserved, but she was Adam’s guardian and should be aware of a situation that could grow worse if not dealt with.

“Has Adam mentioned having any trouble at school?” he asked, hoping the boy had told her.

Her fingers clamped on his shoulders. “No. Why?”