Mountain Sanctuary (10 page)

She stared across at him, her green eyes misty. “We both do. That’s why we need to go slow and get to know each other.”

They stood there, a few inches separating them as the sun begin to set off to the west, the sound of “Precious Memories” drifting out over the still air.

Adam reached out toward her, then dropped his hand. “So what do we do now?”

“We walk home,” she replied, taking his hand.

Adam fell in step with her, the warmth of her slender fingers touching him like threads of light. “I guess I don’t get to kiss you yet, right?”

She slanted him one of her famous Stella looks. “Not just yet. But you can keep right on thinking about kissing me. I don’t mind that one bit. And if you throw in a funnel cake now and then, we just might make it, Callahan.”

Adam knew he wouldn’t have a problem thinking about her. Not at all. The problem would be in trying to figure out how to win over this stubborn, pretty woman somehow.

Without having to open a vein to do it.

S
tella listened at the open kitchen window, a smile on her face in spite of how tired she was this morning. Adam and Mrs. Creamer were out in the garden discussing gardenias. And although Stella hadn’t slept well after the heart-to-heart she and Adam had at the gospel music concert, she wasn’t mad at the man. Not at all. Adam’s presence here had actually caused a kind of awakening in Stella. She had more patience these days, more kindness toward the strangers who showed up at her door. She was becoming more of a people person, and all because of Adam’s example.

Score one for the good guy.

Which was why she was standing here, watching him, and getting such a kick out of listening to him talk to the opinionated but ladylike Carlita Creamer.

“It’s the best scent in the world,” Mrs. Creamer said, sniffing at the big gardenia bush out by the old stone patio just beyond the carriage drive. The leafy bush was bursting with fat, lush white blossoms that reminded Stella of tufts of tissue. “That’s why I love the South—so many beautiful scented flowers and trees.”

Adam nodded, ever solicitous and courteous. He had such a rapport with the guests. “Yes, ma’am. My mama back in New Orleans has a whole hedge of gardenias. I used to lie awake late at night growing up, that sweet smell drifting in through my window.”

Stella stopped washing dishes so she could hear more. If she had to resort to eavesdropping in order to get to know Adam a little better, then so be it. The man might be able to charm the guests, but he was tight-lipped when it came to talking about his past. At least he was with her. But maybe after last night—

“Tell me about your family, Adam,” Mrs. Creamer said, her short red hair shimmering in the morning sunlight.

“Well, ma’am—”

“Call me Carlita, please.”

“Well, Ms. Carlita—” Stella heard the smile in his respect “—my mother is a good woman. She taught school for years but now she’s retired. She works part-time at the public library, but she mostly likes to babysit my nieces and nephews. She and my dad live near a bayou. They got some water damage and had some structural repairs after the hurricane, but they’re getting back on their feet. They’re always having grandchildren over to spend the weekend. They go boat riding and fishing, hang out on the pier.”

“Oh, how many grandchildren do your parents have?”

“Five so far. My sisters each have two girls and my brother has a baby boy. It’s like a row of little stepping stones.”

There was a moment of silence, then Mrs. Creamer said, “Why do you look so sad? Do you miss them?”

She heard Adam clearing his throat. “I do. But…my brother and I had a falling-out just before I left. I didn’t even get to see his new baby boy.”

This was news. Stella swallowed back her disappointment. Why hadn’t Adam given her this kind of general information. Did he prefer sharing family tidbits with someone who was almost a stranger? Stella stared down at her dishrag. Maybe this falling-out with his brother had something to do with his reluctance to talk about his past. And maybe Stella could ask him about it later, when the time was right.

“My, my, that’s a shame. I sure hope you two patch things up one day.”

“I don’t know. My mama is sure hoping that same thing.”

“And what about you, Adam? Do you want to make peace with your brother?”

“I’d like that. If he can ever forgive me.”

Something pierced Stella’s soul with understanding. So Adam needed forgiveness? Was that why he didn’t want to tell her the whole story? Was he ashamed? Stella could understand that concept. She closed her eyes and wished she could help him. And she decided it might not be wise to question him about this.

Mrs. Creamer flittered on with her own questions. “What about you, Adam? Why aren’t you married with children yet?”

Stella strained to see his face, but he had his back turned, his head down. He stood in that way she’d come to know and understand, with his hands on his hips and his legs braced apart, his feet solid against the earth.

“I’ve, uh, I’m afraid I just haven’t gotten around to all that yet.”

“I can see that. But have you ever considered marrying and settling down to raise children of your own?”

Adam glanced toward the house. Stella jumped back from the window, but kept her ear close, holding her breath as she waited to hear the answer to that question herself.

She heard his sigh on the wind. “I’ve thought about it, a lot. But you know, being a police officer doesn’t lend itself to a good home life. It’s hard, dangerous work. I’ve dated women here and there, but nothing serious enough to make that kind of commitment.”

Mrs. Creamer wasn’t buying any of that. “Oh, fiddle. I’ve known a lot of happily married officers of the law. So stop using that as an excuse.”

Stella peeked back out the window, her heartbeat causing the ruffles of her apron to flutter.

Adam lowered his head again, his hand touching on one of the gardenia bushes. “It’s not so much an excuse as just a fact of life. My mama says I just haven’t found the right woman.”

Mrs. Creamer laughed out loud. “Your mama is probably right. But what’s your excuse now? You left police work, right?”

“I did. I guess I reached the end of my rope. I was just standing there on the street one day, looking at a homicide victim and suddenly I just couldn’t take it anymore. I had a bad experience with some other things, so I decided it was time to leave.”

Mrs. Creamer plucked a fat white blossom and tucked it over her ear. “Maybe you’re just reaching for another kind of rope—a new lifeline in a new place, away from that harsh life you had down in New Orleans.” She waved a hand in the air. “You’ve got to admit, what you do here is completely at odds with the demanding life of a policeman.”

“It is that,” Adam agreed, once again glancing back toward the house. Then he lowered his voice, forcing Stella to step close to the window again. “I don’t know why I wound up here. I just know I like what I’m doing right now. I like helping out around here. I like meeting nice, decent people. I enjoy helping our visitors to relax and find some sort of rest and solace.”

“And in the meantime, you’re resting and regrouping, too, right?”

Stella watched as he bobbed his head. “Right. Exactly. But what if I decide I’m rested enough? What if I decide I need to go home?”

Mrs. Creamer took the clippers from him, then cut a few more blossoms. “Oh, Adam, I think you are home. You just don’t know it yet.” Then she handed him the blossoms. “Why don’t you take these inside to Stella.”

Adam took the flowers. “She might not—”

“Don’t give me any excuses, son. She’s listening to everything we’re saying.” Then she turned toward the house. “Isn’t that right, Stella?”

Mortified, Stella backed away from the window without responding. Busying herself with finishing up the morning chores, she tried to ignore the gentle slamming of the back door. Then she smelled the gardenias.

“Uh, these are for you,” Adam said, shoving them at her.

Stella turned as he crushed the four delicate white flowers into her hands, her guilt causing her to appear humble and sheepish. “Thank you very much.”

He didn’t look happy. “You don’t have to spy on me, Stella.”

“I wasn’t spying.” She whirled to find a vase for the gardenias. “I can’t help it if I happened to be standing at the window.”

“Yes, standing and spying,” he said as he yanked open the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. “Well, did you get enough information? Are you happy with what you heard me telling Mrs. Creamer?”

“It’s Carlita,” she retorted. “She asked you to call her Carlita.”

“So you were listening!”

“Of course I was listening, Adam. I’m curious about you. Mrs.—Carlita asked some very important questions.”

“And I suppose those are the same sort of questions you have, right?”

“I guess so,” she said, shrugging. “Women like to know what they’re getting into, whether it’s hiring a maintenance man or trying to decide about other things.”

“Women can drive a man crazy,” he replied. “Probably why I never got married.”

So much for their delicate coming-to-terms talk last night. And the hope she’d held to her heart since then.

“Is that how you feel, then? You think I’m trying to drive you crazy, just because I want you to open up to me?”

“I don’t know. You’re asking for things I can’t give you right now. Maybe never.”

Hurt, she looked away. “Don’t worry, Adam. I won’t ask you any more questions. Whatever happened down there is your business. But it’s clear you can talk to anyone around here about it, except me. I heard that much from your conversation, at least.”

He stepped close. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s just hard to explain, okay?”

She pulled out a loaf of stale bread to make a breakfast casserole for tomorrow morning. “Okay, but I don’t think it’s asking so much to get to know you better. I learned more about you in that short conversation than you’ve told me in three weeks. And I won’t apologize for listening out my own kitchen window.”

“And I won’t apologize for not spilling my guts,” he retorted before he downed the rest of his water. “Now I’m going into town to get some plumbing parts for one of the upstairs bathrooms. Want to follow me to the hardware store to see what I say to the clerk in there?”

“I have things to do,” she said, wishing he wouldn’t stare at her like a whipped pup. “And I’m sorry about being so nosy. It won’t happen again.”

“I doubt that,” he said. “But from now on, I’ll just make sure I know where you are before I get into any kind of conversations with our guests.”

“Fine, be that way then.”

“Fine, I will.”

He stomped off, the sound of his boots clicking on the hardwood floor.

Wally came ambling into the kitchen, shaking his head. “Why don’t you two just quit bickering and get on with things, Stella?”

“What things, Daddy? What are you talking about?”

Wally shook his head again. “The thing that’s eating away at you and Adam,” he said. “The thing that Mrs. Creamer and everyone else who comes passing through here can see clear as day.”

“Oh, and what might that thing be?” Stella asked, completely flustered now. Did everyone around here listen in on everyone else’s conversations?

“You two are falling for each other,” her daddy responded. “In a really big way.”

Stella cackled with nervous laughter. “Daddy, how can you even think such a thing? We are not falling for each other. It’s just that working together day in and day out makes you want to get to know another person. It’s all about trust and understanding and feeling comfortable with your coworkers.”

“Uh-huh. If you say so.”

Stella slammed the silverware drawer shut. “Well, I do say so. I’m not ready to get involved with the first single man to darken my doors. Not ready for that at all.”

“Sure, honey. Of course not. I’m just saying—”

“I know what you’re saying and I’m telling you that this so-called thing between Adam Callahan and me is nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.”

“Okay,” Wally said over his shoulder as he hurried back to his accounting chores. “Whatever you say, suga’.”

Stella turned back to the window to find Adam standing there staring up at her. “Well, well, look who’s spying now,” she said with a snap in her voice.

“I forgot my wallet,” he replied. “I was coming back to get it and—”

“And you heard everything I just said to my daddy, right?”

“I sure did,” he replied, not moving. He just stood there looking up at her with those big, dark blue eyes. “And I sure am glad you cleared all of this up.” Then he shook his head. “And after all that pretty talk last night.”

Stella felt all hot and red-faced. Maybe she needed to shut this window and turn on the air-conditioning. “I shouldn’t have said those things yesterday. We can’t have everyone assuming we’re an item, Adam. It doesn’t do for a boss to get involved with her employee, after all. We both know that. And besides, you’re still not sure you’re going to stay past summer. Better to keep things on an even keel and just remain friends.”

“Yeah, right. I get it. So all that sweet talk last night was just for show? All that talk about taking things slow and us having a chance, was all of that just your way of trying to draw me out and get me to talk, Stella?”

Stella thought about throwing chunks of bread at him. Or maybe an egg or two. “No,
I
meant what I said and I’m not trying to trick you into anything. But it doesn’t really matter how I feel. You’re not ready to be honest with me and I can’t let things go any further unless you are. So in spite of what we talked about last night, we need to stay clear of each other before everyone around here has us paired off. We don’t want people getting the wrong idea.”

“No, and you sure don’t want
me
getting the wrong idea, either. And you’re obviously having second thoughts this morning.” He gave her a direct look, his eyes drenching her in longing and need. Then he put his hands on his hips and tilted his chin. “But mark my words, Stella. Before I do leave this place, I’m getting that one kiss you owe me. So you’d just better get used to
that
idea, at least.”

Before Stella could think of a quick retort, he was gone. She watched, her mouth still open as he stomped through the yard and slammed the back gate. Then she heard his truck cranking with an angry roar of engine.

“I don’t get him,” Stella said to herself as she went into the laundry room to fold the clean linens. First the man tells her he wants to take things to the next level in their relationship, but he also tells anyone who’ll listen that he isn’t ready for a long-term commitment and he isn’t even sure he wants to stay here in Hot Springs anyway. Then he goes and gets all huffy with her simply because after hearing his conversation with Mrs. Creamer, she agrees and thinks it’s wise to keep things on a professional, working level, even though last night was special and sweet.

But he stills wants to kiss you.

What could he possibly expect from her if he didn’t even know what he wanted himself?