Last Night's Kiss (9 page)

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Authors: Shirley Hailstock

BOOK: Last Night's Kiss
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He looked like he wanted to say something, then thought better of it. “We can talk about this later. You’re dead on your feet. You need rest.”

“I went to the car, but the keys were gone. I didn’t take them with me.”

“I know,” he said.

“I wasn’t thinking about the car when I saw Bailey was having a heart attack. I only thought to get help.”

“I understand, Rosa.” He seemed exasperated. He had other things on his mind and she was too tired to think about what she was saying. “Good night,” he said.

Rosa stared at the closed door. She heard the motor of his truck start up. She felt sorry for what she’d put him through. His father was very sick, in the hospital, and he was driving around the country worrying about her.
Worrying
. The word stopped her. Was he worried about her? Or just angry at her?

Chapter 5

Pain sliced up Rosa’s back. She moaned, but the sound that she heard when she woke the next morning
couldn’t
have come from her. It wasn’t her sound. It was something she heard from her brothers the morning after a game of basketball. She understood them now. Everything hurt. Every muscle in her body shouted in protest of yesterday’s escapade. She groaned as she tried to sit up. Flopping back against the pillows, she took deep breaths. They hurt, too.

She needed a good soak in a tub of bubbles. There was no chance of her riding that morning. With effort she pushed herself up and went into the bathroom, where she filled the tub with soapy water and submerged herself. The hot water had to make her feel better, because she was unsure if she could get out of the tub if it didn’t. After an hour and her filling the tub three times to keep the water hot, she pulled her pruning body out of the water and dressed.

She felt better. Her muscles still ached, but their screams had subsided, especially after she downed two aspirins. The car was still sitting out on the road. It was time to do something about it. She needed it and mentally went through several methods of her getting it back. Adam had left her purse on the counter. Her keys were probably in it. She could walk back to the car. The thought of doing that received protest from her body. She could walk to the stables and get a horse, then drive three miles an hour with it tethered to the car to get it back to the stable. Calling Adam came to mind, but she quickly rejected the idea. He had his father to think about, and more than that, she was unsure of her feelings when she was around him. He touched something in her. Rosa’s initial reaction from years on the road was to protect herself by not allowing any emotions to take root.

That left Vida. Vida would come without a second’s thought. The only thing about calling Vida was that Rosa would have to explain what had happened. And her friend was going to probe into every word she had exchanged with Adam.

But Rosa had no choice.

Gingerly she descended the stairs. She made a cup of coffee and spied her purse still lying where Adam had left it. She opened it. No keys.

“Damn,” she protested, her shoulders dropping. She was stranded. Now she had to call him.

At that moment she heard a car pull into the driveway. Setting the coffee on the table, she looked through the window. Adam opened the door and got out of the Corvette. Behind him someone else pulled up in a pickup. She saw him drop her keys on the driver’s seat and turn toward the truck. He wasn’t even going to knock on the door.

For a moment she debated opening the door and calling to him. He didn’t know she was there and apparently didn’t care to find out.

Yanking the door inward, she went outside. “I could have gotten the car,” she said, not bothering to acknowledge the morning.

He stopped and faced her. His eyebrows rose. “How?” he asked. “You weren’t planning to walk, were you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think I could get to the end of the driveway if I tried to walk.”

“Then it’s good I brought it back.”

“You’re always helping.”

Rosa glanced at the driver. She left the word reluctantly hanging off her sentence, but he knew it was there.

“Thank you for taking care of it for me,” Rosa added.

Adam pivoted and headed for the truck. Rosa glanced at the driver. It was Medea.

“Hi, Rosa,” she said, a ready smile on her face. “How are your legs and feet? Adam told me you walked miles in the dark. It’s dangerous to do that when you don’t know the land. Despite your self-defense skills, something could have happened to you.”

Rosa didn’t have to look at Adam to know that the episode with the three teenagers had been widely telegraphed.

“I wouldn’t have walked if I’d known the keys were no longer in the car, and my cell phone was gone so I couldn’t call anyone. My only choice was walking.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re all right. When Bailey comes home, you’ll have to come by for dinner.”

Rosa smiled. “I’d like that,” she said, refusing to glance at Adam as he got into the passenger’s seat. She’d love to have dinner with Medea and Bailey, but Adam was bound to be there and she was unsure what to do with him around. Somehow the two of them had gotten off to a bad start and their relationship continued to go downhill.

“How is Bailey?” she asked.

“He’s responding well to the medication, protesting about the food, and giving the nurses a hard time because he wants to come home.” She smiled. “He’s going to be all right. Thank you for helping him.”

“I’m glad I was there.”

“We’re both glad you were there.” Medea glanced at Adam. “No telling what would have happened if you hadn’t found him.”

Rosa looked at Adam. His eyes held an odd mixture of worry and love. And in that moment she was incapable of speech.

 

Juggling a huge bouquet of flowers, a box of chocolates, and several books, Rosa shouldered her way into the hospital. Bailey had been moved to a regular room. She found it easily. Letting out a slow breath, she was glad he was alone. She’d thought Adam might be there.

“Well, hello,” Bailey said. A huge smile split his face. He opened his arms for her and Rosa went into them.

Pushing herself back, she said, “I hope you like flowers and candy. My brother is a doctor and these are the two things he says are always appropriate.” Her voice fell as she looked about the room. It was full of flowers.

“Your smile is all I need,” Bailey said.

“Even ill, you’re still a charmer.”

“Charmer,” he said, mocking hurt. “I mean every word I say.”

Rosa put the flowers in the vase she’d brought with her and filled it with water from the bathroom sink. When she turned back, Bailey had opened the candy and was popping a chocolate-covered coconut ball into his mouth.

“I have you to thank for getting me here,” Bailey said. His tone was serious.

“No thanks necessary. From what I’m told, being neighborly is a requirement for living in the Valley.”

“Sounds like my son.”

Rosa nodded. She put the flowers on the windowsill. In addition to the flowers, there were many cards standing upright on every surface of the private room. Bailey had spent twenty-four hours in ICU, but now was in a regular room.

“I hope I’m not tiring you out?” Rosa said, thinking that if everyone who represented the flowers had come by, Bailey would be very tired. And she wanted to deflect the discussion away from Adam.

“You’re a breath of fresh air,” he said. “You make the Valley more beautiful than it already is.”

Rosa blushed, even though she knew Bailey was charming her. “Everyone has been very friendly.”

“Adam told me you had quite a night.”

“Believe me, I have the aches and pains to show for that bit of bravado. I didn’t think I’d parked so far away.”

“Distances out here are deceptive.”

“I know,” Rosa said. “I’ll be more careful.” She had to get that in before she heard it again. Rosa had traveled the world and it was here that things were most foreign.

“You should hear Medea tell the story.”

“What did she say?” Rosa asked.

The soft whoosh of the door opening had her turning. Adam strode in. He stopped when he saw her. She felt his glance roll over her, and her body warmed as if a blanket had been put around her. It was warm and sweet smelling and touched every sensual nerve in her body. Adam’s expression was the same as it had been the day he’d kissed her. Her temperature rose several degrees. She had to get out of there. Bailey was already playing Cupid. She didn’t want to give him any clues that she was attracted to Adam. And she didn’t want Adam to know, either. Although how he couldn’t know after their bodies had touched just short of the ultimate intimate act would surprise her.

Rosa picked up her purse. “It was good visiting with you, Bailey. Get well. I miss my riding partner.”

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Bailey asked.

She checked her watch and nodded. “I have some errands to run and I’m having lunch with a new friend.”

“Oh. Who?” Adam asked. It was the first time he’d spoken in the short period he’d been in the room.

“Joy Stapleton-Jones. I met her at Vida’s and recently in the grocery store. We were talking about me doing something more than riding horses and roaring down the roads in a red Corvette while I’m here.”

“In the way of a job?” Adam asked.

“Not exactly.” She looked at him. “In a lot of the cities where I’ve had a lot of time, I used it to learn a little about their history. I thought I’d look into the history of Waymon Valley.”

“Just don’t let her talk to you about me.”

“Why?” Rosa assumed talking about him would involve his appeal to the ladies.

“She’s been after me for years.”

Her suspicions confirmed, Rosa smiled. “I’m sure I know why.”

 

Driving that red car around the Valley, Rosa could be spotted anywhere she went. Adam saw the car parked outside the library. The place had been closed for three hours. He knew sometimes Joy allowed people doing research to stay after hours and lock the door on their way out. But Rosa wouldn’t be doing any research.

What was she doing in there? Since he was one of the people who often needed to do research, he was aware of the layout of the library. He knew how to get in through the back door. Walking around the building, he entered using an electronic code that hadn’t been changed since it was installed ten years ago. Going up the steps, he found the place dark. No ambient light came from the main area. Was Rosa here or had she parked the car and
walked
somewhere else? The thought of her out alone made his heart speed up. She’d had lunch with Joy. Could the two of them still be out?

When he reached the central desk area, Adam noticed a small light coming from a corner. He knew there were private desks over there. People who needed to concentrate or wanted some privacy often commandeered them. He didn’t want to scare Rosa if she was there. The place was quiet. His boots would echo on the marble floor if he crossed it.

He called her name. “Rosa?” There was no answer. But he heard a slight movement in the direction of the light. “Rosa, are you there?”

“I’m here,” she answered, standing up. He could see her head over the top of the partition. Her eyes opened wide when she recognized him. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” he said. “I saw the car and the library closed hours ago.”

“I thought the doors were locked. How’d you get in here?”

“Joy used to let me do research after hours. I still know the code to the back door.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m fine. I’ll close the door on my way out.” She started to sit down, effectively dismissing him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, refusing to accept her method of getting rid of him.

“Reading.”

“Reading what?” He was surprised. He knew she was in Montana to rest and relax.

“I’m researching some…information.”

Adam noticed she was choosing her words carefully. “On what?” he asked.

“On the Valley,” she said.

“Why?”

“Interest. Joy told me some interesting facts at lunch. I wanted to read up on some of them. Besides, I’m here for a while. I can’t sit around doing nothing.”

“I see,” he said. “Joy has enlisted you to get my father to write his memoirs.”

He knew right away what was going on.

“Yes,” she answered.

Her chin didn’t jut out, nor did she raise it, but there was still the air of challenge that was part of her.

“I think it’s a good idea. He knows so much about the area. Don’t you think future generations will want to know how Waymon Valley came to be settled? How it’s grown into a typical American town?”

He gestured but didn’t commit himself.

“Look how much of black history has been lost. We lose more and more every day if people like your father won’t pass along what they’ve lived through.”

“My father isn’t famous. Who would care what he had to say?”

“History isn’t only written by the famous. And often the history that is written by them isn’t completely true. It’s public relations.”

“Isn’t this a reporter’s job? Digging for the truth and sharing it with the public at large?”

“I suppose that’s one definition, but it doesn’t mean a layman like me can’t get involved,” Rosa defended. “Ordinary people experience things, too. Their perspective shouldn’t be discounted. There are many oral histories left from the Depression Era and the Black Renaissance. They are invaluable in learning about that time period and what it meant to people. Waymon Valley, from what your father tells me, was a huge black community back in the 1800s. I didn’t know that. I would never have thought it. Most of the history we learned concerns the South. There was a migration North, but very few times do we ever hear anything about people going West.”

“Are you planning to write a book?” he asked.

Rosa shook her head. “Writing is a specialized field. I’m sure you know that. But I can at least record what he says. Maybe he’ll write a book. You could edit it. You have the expertise. And it would give him something to do that’s quiet and keeps him home, off that horse you don’t want him riding. And give him something to occupy his time.”

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