B00CZBQ63C EBOK (4 page)

A voice slurred through the darkness. “Where’s my sandwich?”

Laurie’s shoulders fell. “I thought you were asleep.”

“You’re so slow, it’s no wonder I dozed off.”

She turned to see him rising from the sofa. His fingers wove through the afghan, lifting it to his face before tossing it to the floor. His eyes darkened.

“Forget the sandwich. Just get my bottle.”

“No.” As soon as the word slipped past her lips, she regretted it. A cold sweat broke out across her skin

“What did you just say to me?” Father’s fingers curled into a fist as he swayed on his feet.

“You don’t need more to drink. You’ve got to work in the morning. If you miss another day, they’re going to fire you and what’s going to happen to us?”

He pointed a finger her direction. “You shut your trap, girl. I won’t have you backtalking me.”

Her eyelids burned from the held-back tears. She braced a hand against the wall. She knew better than to throw fuel on flames, but exhaustion muddied her thoughts. “And I won’t be giving you that bottle.”

His hand closed over the framed picture on the table and flung it.

Laurie flinched as it exploded against the wall above her head, shards of glass raining onto her hair. Mama’s face fluttered to the floorboards. Laurie reached for the picture, as her father’s hand closed around her shoulder and forced her back against the wall.

“You won’t be talking to me that way. Now, get me that bottle.” Her father shoved her down the hall toward the kitchen.

Laurie closed her eyes, just long enough to take a breath. She strode to the back door and flung it open, the cold night air blasting against her face. Walking to the bench, she lifted the faded cushion and retrieved the brown drugstore bag.

Her father loomed in the doorway.

“Here.” She thrust it toward him. “Take it.”

He glowered a moment before ripping the bag from her hands, stepping inside, and slamming the door in her face.

She touched the wooden door as moths fluttered around the porch light. A loud click sounded as the lock turned.

A lump rose in her throat. “Dad . . . ” She pounded her fists against the door, rattling the hinges.

The window went dark.

Laurie woke to her brother’s hand shaking her shoulder. She lifted her head from the wicker bench, her back complaining at the sudden movement. Her robe and hair were damp with morning dew.

“Laurie, what are you doing out here?” Johnny crouched and slid a hand under her elbow, helping her unfold her limbs and rise to a sitting position.

Her head swam. What was she doing? The night flooded back.

Johnny sat on his heels, eyes stormy. “Dad?” When she nodded, he sprang up and strode to the back door. The pounding tore through the quiet morning air.

“Johnny, stop! Everyone will hear you.”

His hand rattled the locked knob. “Oh, like they don’t know?” He scowled and rapped on the door a second time. “You can’t keep covering for him. I’m getting you out of here. Come live with me.”

“I will not.” Her throat tightened. “What makes you any better? You’re sneaking off at night with your rumrunning cronies. Do you expect me to believe that you’re not drinking, too?”

Johnny kicked the door. “I’m nothing like him.”

“Besides, you live with a bunch of guys from work.”

“I’ll get my own place.” He turned away and struck the door a last time.

The curtains pulled back from the window and Dad’s face grimaced. The door swung open. “Why are you making such an unholy racket? My head feels like I got hit with a sledge already.”

Johnny pushed past him. “Yeah, and why is that, Dad? Why did I find Laurie sleeping on the back porch?”

Laurie stood shivering in the morning breeze as the two faced off. Her father turned to her with a blank look.

“You lock yourself out?” He reached out a hand. “Get in here, girl. Why didn’t you wake me? I’ve gotta’ scoot or I’m going to be late.”

“Dad,” Johnny glared at his father. “You did this. You locked her out here when you were drunk.”

Her father’s face paled in the morning light. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He set his jaw. “Laurie, get in here before you catch your death.”

Laurie slipped past them, putting her hand on Johnny’s arm to stop further argument. “It’s not worth it.”

She hurried through the house, stopping in the hall at the sight of the broken frame lying on the floor. She bent down and lifted the photograph, shaking loose the jagged pieces of glass. She carried the picture to her room and hid it in her dresser drawer. A quick glance at the clock confirmed she only had twenty minutes to clean up the mess and get ready for work. Pulling on a dress and a warm sweater, she rubbed her arms to stop the shivering.

Her father appeared in the doorway, shoulders stooped.

She unpinned the wave combs from her hair, keeping her eyes down.
Here it comes.

He took a hesitant step inside. “I’m—I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t know you were out there.”

Laurie jabbed a bobby pin into a curl, securing it so it curved seductively over her eyebrow. She glared at him in the mirror as she watched him turn away.
Of course you didn’t.

Chapter
4

D
aniel hefted the teardrop-shaped show globe into place by the
drugstore window, suspending it from the silver chains connected to a bracket on the wall. The brilliant blue liquid sloshed gently in the glass casing, the morning sunlight setting it sparkling like a deep tropical sea. Tropical seas sounded pretty good about now. Anywhere but Port Angeles sounded pretty good, in fact. His eyes watered from the mill stench drifting in the early morning air.

He wiped the glass with a damp cloth and stood back to admire the look.

The owner of the pharmacy in Seattle had scoffed at such old-fashioned symbols. Now, seeing it hanging in his Granddad’s window, a swell of pride rose in Daniel’s chest. He still remembered leaning against the counter as a small child watching as his grandfather mixed the chemicals, magically turning the liquid into a dark blood red or a dazzling emerald green. He loved guessing which mixtures of chemicals would create each hue. By his twelfth birthday, he’d mastered all the recipes.

A flash of blue outside drew Daniel’s eye. His pulse quickened as he recognized Laurie Burke, her blue dress a perfect complement to the freshly mixed globe.

Does your grandfather know what you are?
Her words haunted him. He deserved an explanation. Daniel rapped on the window, catching her attention. He gave the show globe one final wipe with the polishing cloth before stepping down from the window display and hurrying through the front door.

Laurie Burke’s cool gaze sent goose bumps climbing his arms. He gestured to the window. “What do you think?”

She darted a look at the blue globe. “It’s lovely. My favorite color.”

He couldn’t help staring as her eyes mirrored the exact shade of sapphire he’d spent the morning concocting. “It looks good on you.” The words slipped out before Daniel could stop them.

The young woman took a quick breath, her hand fluttering to her chest.

Daniel scrambled for words. “Your dress—and, and . . . ” he swallowed, “ . . . and your eyes.”

She glanced down as if she had forgotten what she was wearing. “Oh, yes.” A pink glow touched her cheeks. “Well, thank you . . . Mr. Shepherd.”

Change the subject, you idiot.
“I mixed it myself—the show globe. It’s copper sulphate, water, and ammonia.”
Chemicals, really? Is that going to impress the lady?

She gazed back at the window. “It’s perfect—like the straits on a warm summer day.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen it during the summer. My grandfather has a boat and he used to take me sailing when I was a boy. And my mother and I would picnic at Crescent Beach . . . ” His voice trailed off, the recent memory of standing on the bluff with a mysterious young woman scattering his childhood recollections. He cleared his throat. “Yes, well. Maybe sometime we can—”

She broke in. “Excuse me, Mr. Shepherd, but I really must get to work.”

His heart sank as she walked away. “All right, have a nice day.” He lifted a hand in farewell and stood and watched until she disappeared into the switchboard office, two blocks away.

The sudden realization hit him like a rock between the eyes. He’d meant to confront her about her callous accusation the other day. Instead he’d complimented her dress and her eyes and nearly asked her out on a date. He pressed his fingers against his eyelids. This woman had a strange effect on him.

Granddad’s smiling face appeared in the window. He pulled the door open. “Well, well—pretty little thing, isn’t she?”

Daniel straightened his tie. “I suppose.”

“Bright blue eyes.”

“Uh-huh.” Daniel stepped past him, into the store.

“Seems like you’ve taken a fancy to that color.” Granddad nodded toward the show globe.

Daniel ignored the teasing as he made his way over to the coffeepot and filled a mug for himself. “You want some?”

His grandfather smirked as he removed his glasses from his shirt pocket and slipped them on, hooking them behind his ears. “There are a lot of pretty girls in this town. Aren’t you glad you took my offer?”

Daniel lifted the steaming cup. “There were plenty of women in Seattle. I came here for you, remember? I’m just here to help out until you hire a manager. I’m not looking for any long-term entanglements.”

The older man chuckled. “You say that. But I think small town life might agree with you.” He leaned back against the counter. “And you know it’s my dream that you take over the shop. I agreed to the short-term deal to get you up here. Now I’m counting on Port Angeles’s charms to make you want to stay.”

Daniel took a sip of the coffee, grimacing as the liquid scalded his throat. “And what kinds of charms could an old mill town like this one offer?”

“I’ve noticed quite a few lovely ladies coming by lately, and I imagine the number will be growing over the next few weeks.”

“And why is that?”

His grandfather laughed, well-worn lines forming around his eyes and mouth. “I don’t think they are coming to see me.” He lifted his cup.

The door jingled and two rosy-faced teenage girls sauntered in, busy with whispers and giggles.

Daniel gulped down his coffee, attempting to ignore his grandfather’s chuckle.

“Yes sir, Port Angeles has many charms, Daniel. Many charms.”

Laurie tucked a loose wisp of hair behind her ear. She closed the door behind her, taking a deep breath of the stuffy air in the switchboard office.

She must be mistaken. That man couldn’t have been preparing to ask her out on a date. She shivered. As if she would go anywhere with a rotten rumrunner, even if his dimpled smile made her knees melt. There had to be someone out there who was decent, trustworthy, and not connected with booze in any way.
Of course it wouldn’t hurt if that someone looked like Daniel Shepherd.

She buttoned her sweater up to her neck. Even though the office was warm, Laurie’s arms and legs ached with the cold. Little wonder after spending the night on the back porch. If only she could keep her father from drinking. Maybe she should have a conversation with Dr. Pierce and convince him to stop writing those prescriptions for her father.

Laurie pasted a smile on her face as she waved at the women lined up along the switchboard stations. She hurried to the coatroom to deposit her hat and pocketbook.

But talking to Dr. Pierce would mean admitting her father’s problem to the world.

Chapter
5

L
aurie smoothed her hair in the church lavatory as her friend
fidgeted, passing a small Bible from hand to hand.

“Come on, Laurie. I want to get a good seat.”

Laurie gave her bob one last pat and pinched her cheeks before turning to Amelia. “All done.” She frowned at her friend’s hair. “I wish I had your natural curl.”

Amelia pushed open the bathroom door. “I want to save a spot for Johnny, just in case. He told me he’s been working double shifts at the mill. ” She sighed. “I can’t remember the last time he made it to church, the scamp.”

“Yes, well, I wouldn’t count on him being here today, either.” Laurie hurried to keep up with Amelia as she maneuvered through the crowd like a salmon heading upstream.

A stranger among the familiar crowd drew Laurie’s attention. She lost track of her feet, nearly treading on Amelia’s heels as she studied the man’s square jaw and olive-green eyes. He slipped off his gray fedora, exposing a head of wavy blond hair, and leaned forward to shake hands with Pastor Yoder, his smile brightening the room.

She touched Amelia’s back without a word. Her friend turned, her smile fading into a questioning glance as she followed Laurie’s gaze.

“Ooh, who is that?” Amelia rose on tiptoes. “I’ve never seen him before. I’d remember a face like that. He’s almost as handsome as Johnny and definitely better dressed.”

Laurie pressed her pocketbook to her chest. “He seems to know Pastor Yoder.”

“He must be new in town. Let’s go introduce ourselves.” Amelia snatched Laurie’s hand and pulled her toward the men.

Laurie dragged her feet, preferring to study him from afar. The man was like a fine work of art, best appreciated at a comfortable distance. Besides, it wouldn’t do to look too eager.

Amelia yanked her along, and within moments she was gazing into eyes that were greener than the thick blankets of moss that grew in the nearby forest. Every word in her vocabulary melted from her mind. As usual, however, Amelia had enough for both of them.

Pastor Yoder, a twinkle in his eye, introduced them. “Samuel Brown, may I introduce Miss Amelia White and Miss Laurie Burke?” He turned to address the women. “Mr. Brown just arrived in Port Angeles last week. In fact, I believe he’s living just a few blocks down the street from you young ladies.”

Amelia shook his hand. “You’re living in the Cherry Hill neighborhood, Mr. Brown? That’s simply delightful! I live on Oak and my friend Laurie lives on Laurel.”

“Laurie on Laurel? Sounds like a great title for a song.” Mr. Brown smiled. “I am renting a house on Laurel, also. I had no idea I had such lovely neighbors.”

Laurie’s mind buzzed. “Um, yes. Laurel.”
No more sleeping on the back porch.

Amelia pressed her hands together. “Oh, the old Smythe place, right? I noticed someone had leased it.”

As Pastor Yoder excused himself, Amelia stepped to the other side of Mr. Brown to close the circle. “What brings you to Port Angeles, Mr. Brown?”

“I work for the Department of Revenue.”

Amelia’s brows rose. “Revenue? As in money?”

“No.” He chuckled. “I’m in the Bureau of Prohibition. There’s not much money there. Not clean money, anyway.”

Laurie’s mouth went dry.
A revenuer.
“You mean like bootleggers and moonshiners?”

Amelia laughed. “If only we had that much excitement around here, Mr. Brown. I think you’ll be sadly disappointed. Port Angeles is a rather dreary little town. No one around here would be wrapped up in that sort of business.”

“That may be true”—Mr. Brown flashed them a smile—“but I’d appreciate it if you ladies kept your ears open. I know I can trust good church-going people like you to help keep our area free of such nonsense.” He gestured with his hat toward the church pews. “It looks like things are about to begin. Will you join me?”

Laurie and Amelia started down the aisle, Mr. Brown trailing behind. Amelia whispered into her ear, “As if we’d have gangsters here in Port Angeles. But I almost wish we did, if it brings good-looking federal agents to town. Isn’t it exciting?”

Laurie swallowed, following Amelia into the back row and settling herself on the bench. She tugged at the hemline of her dress as Mr. Brown slid in next to her. Now that she knew he was after men like her brother, he seemed much less attractive.
First impressions aren’t always what they seem.
She struggled to breathe, too conscious of the man at her side.

The organ played a familiar hymn, but Laurie’s mind kept wandering back to her brother. Surely this would convince Johnny to give up rumrunning for good.

She closed her eyes for a heartbeat.
This isn’t what I meant by a man of honor, God.

As she reached for the hymnal rack, her hand collided with Mr. Brown’s.

He sat back with a smile. “You go ahead. I know the words to this one.”

Her stomach fluttered. A government man who knew his hymns? “No, I can share with . . . ” she glanced over at her friend, but Amelia was already sharing her book with an elderly woman to her left. Amelia raised her brows and nudged Laurie’s elbow with her own.

Laurie turned back to Mr. Brown. “What I meant to say is, I would be pleased if you would share the hymnal with me.” She opened the cover, rifling through the pages.

A light danced in his face, “It would be an honor, Miss Burke. How gracious of you.” Mr. Brown stepped closer, his shoulder brushing hers. He slid his hand under the book’s cover, his fingertips caressing their way up her wrist.

A quiver shot up her arm and she yanked her hand away.

The man smiled, the book balanced in his palm. He directed his eyes to the front, raising his voice to join the congregation in singing “Be Still My Soul.”

Laurie’s cheeks burned. She stared down at the page, the notes and words swimming in time to the lilting music of the organ. She’d imagined it, certainly—and yet, her skin tingled from his touch.

Her gaze darted about the room. How many of these men had she spotted on the beach? Pastor Yoder had mentioned he’d be speaking on God’s mercy and forgiveness. If he knew what his congregation did under the cover of night, he might choose to preach on sin.

As if on cue, Daniel Shepherd turned and glanced back at her, a slight frown darkening his face.

Laurie straightened her shoulders, focusing her attention on the page.
Let him watch. It must make a rumrunner nervous to know there’s a federal agent in town.

Her concentration slid right past the music. Instead, her eyes lingered on the sparkles of light bouncing off Mr. Brown’s gold watch. After two more stanzas, she stole another glance at Mr. Shepherd, eyeing his strong shoulders and dark hair. He might be handsome, but there was no way she would let her heart get trampled by another dishonorable man.

As Mr. Brown’s rich voice picked up the harmony on the next hymn, Laurie’s uneasiness about the man faded. She’d overreacted to his touch, assuming the worst. Gripping the pew in front for balance, Laurie’s heart rose with the beautiful music, the warmth of his arm against hers no longer so objectionable.

Even better, Mr. Brown knew nothing of her family.

Daniel hooked his thumb in his coat pocket, balancing the hymnbook in his other palm. Who was the man with Laurie Burke? And why did he care? Daniel turned his eyes back to the front, but his voice trailed off. His grandfather’s tenor rang out steady beside him as the congregation belted out the final strains.

Not much had changed in this church since he had left eight years ago. Pastor Yoder’s fringe of hair sported a bit more gray and the choir had new robes, but the same wobbly-looking old man banged away on the rickety pump organ.

One difference haunted him as the pastor rose to speak. Daniel’s grandmother no longer sat at his side. She hadn’t lived to see the legacy of her faith—that when Daniel plummeted over a cliff of his own making, the memory of her love and faith gave him the ability to fall straight into God’s arms.

Daniel’s collar rubbed at his throat, as if it tightened with every word of the sermon. So far he’d managed to keep his secret from his family and hometown. He glanced about the room, spotting familiar faces among the congregation. Teachers, family friends, Sunday school instructors. How would they feel if they knew? His gaze paused once more on Laurie Burke.
Perhaps everyone has secrets.

The pastor leaned forward on the pulpit, driving home a point. “God isn’t up in heaven making lists of your deeds, counting up your good works to see if they outweigh the bad. If you’ve sought His forgiveness, He’s washed you clean. ‘Therefore if any man be in Christ, he in a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.’ The prophet Micah says God will toss our sins into the depths of the seas. So who are we to question His forgiveness? Why do we continue to live with the millstone of sin and guilt around our necks?”

Daniel swallowed, acid burning in the back of his throat.
I can be that new creature, as long as no one discovers the truth.

Laurie and Amelia walked home, Amelia buzzing like a bee about Samuel Brown and his sudden appearance.

“Didn’t he have just the most delicious smile you’ve ever seen?” Amelia fiddled with her pearl necklace, knotting the long strand in the center of her chest

Laurie hugged her pink cardigan tight as her thin cotton skirt fluttered in the breeze. “I’m not sure I would call it delicious.” She wrinkled her nose at her friend’s odd choice of words.

“Well, how would you describe it?”

Laurie caressed her elbow—the same one that had been brushing against Mr. Brown’s only fifteen minutes ago. She dropped her hand, tucking it into her pocket. “I don’t know—it was a nice smile.”

Her friend’s jaw dropped. “Nice? Those flowers are
nice
.” She gestured to a nearby flowering rhododendron. “His smile was heart-stopping.”

Laurie tucked her pocketbook under one arm. “You used to say that about Johnny’s smile.”

Amelia shot her a dirty look. “Laurie, you know I’ve never had eyes for any man other than your brother and I never will. But, if I did . . . that Samuel Brown might just steal the top spot on my list.”

Laurie laughed. “Amelia, you’ve had ‘eyes’ for lots of men.”

The tiny blonde stopped in her tracks. “Laurie Burke, don’t say such a thing.”

Laurie paused, surprised by the hurt in her friend’s face. She touched Amelia’s arm. “I’m just teasing. Everyone knows your heart belongs to Johnny.”

Her friend’s eyes glistened as she dropped her gaze to her shoes. “I wish he felt the same.”

Laurie groaned. “Johnny’s an idiot. He adores you. He’s just being stubborn. He probably won’t propose until he can buy you a house and a ring.”

“That will be years with what he makes at the mill.” She looked up at Laurie, her lips turned down in a pout. “We could live in a tree for all I care, he knows that. We could even move in with you and your father. Wouldn’t that be fun? We’d be like sisters.”

Laurie stifled a shudder. She tucked an arm around her friend’s waist, nudging her toward home
.
“I think it’s romantic. He wants to give you the best. That’s worth something.” Her heart skipped. That must be why Johnny was rumrunning—for Amelia’s sake. She’d be furious if she knew.

Laurie steered the conversation to happier ground. “You said Mr. Brown would steal the top spot on your list . . . that means you have one—a list, I mean.”

Amelia’s eyebrows pinched. “Johnny’s at the top of my list, I told you that.”

“Yes, yes, I got that.” Laurie smoothed her skirt. “I mean, who else? Just for fun.”

“Well, now that you mention it, Mr. Larson’s grandson is a regular Rudolph Valentino.”

Laurie bit her lip. She didn’t want to be reminded about Daniel Shepherd.

Her friend prattled on. “Did you notice Mr. Shepherd staring at you during church? Speaking of delicious smiles.”

“No, I didn’t.” Laurie twisted her silver bangle bracelet. “Besides, he’s not on my list at all.”

“So you do have a list! Who’s at the top?”

Laurie reached for names and came up blank. Daniel Shepherd’s face in the shadows on the bluff filled her mind.