His Healing Touch

A slow rage began to burn inside him at the thought that Buddy had been taking the credit for his generosity. And to make matters worse, trying to take liberties with Kasey in repayment of it!

“So why don’t you tell me about it?”

He blinked, turned his attention back to her. “Tell you about what?” It came out gruffer, angrier than he’d intended, especially considering she wasn’t the one Adam was furious with. If he could get his hands on Buddy Mauvais right now—

“Obviously, you and Buddy have a history of some kind….”

He put a concerted effort into staying calm. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, just look at you,” she said. “Ever since I mentioned his name, you’re tight as a drum.” Grinning, Kasey added, “And if you don’t stop gritting your teeth, you’re sure to crack your molars.”

He hated to admit it, but she was right. He opened his fists, unclenched his jaw, relaxed his shoulders. Adam shook his head. He needed to get off someplace, be by himself, think this thing through in a rational, logical way. Until then, he knew, he’d better zip his lip. And do a whole lot better job of keeping a lid on your temper while you’re at it.

“Nah,” he said, forcing a grin. “I’m just frustrated with the power company, is all. I mean, you pay through the nose for service, and half the time you’re sitting in the dark, waiting—”

“Adam, do you mind my being completely blunt?”

Well, he thought, that all depended on what she intended to be blunt about. “No. I guess not,” he said carefully.

Adam clamped his lips together and waited, searching for the inner strength that would be required to react appropriately to whatever idea was percolating in that pretty head of hers.

“What I read on your face just now wasn’t frustration at the power company. It was anger, plain and simple.” She scooted to the edge of the seat, leaned toward him and said, “Now, I don’t know why you feel the way you do about Buddy, but don’t you think it’d be a good idea to tell me about it?”

He looked into her eyes, so big and bright, so filled with sincerity. “Buddy and I go way back,” he began. “We were…” He couldn’t bring himself to say “friends.” “We hung around together some when we were in high school.”

“Then, you probably know him better than I do.”

She clasped her hands together in what he read as a gesture of quiet supplication.

“I need to know everything I can about him, and if you can shed some light…” She extended her hands, palms up, beseechingly.

Her voice was trembling, and that made no sense at all. Especially when Adam reminded himself that Kasey thought Buddy was her own personal God-sent “miracle.”

“I’d really appreciate it, Adam.”

“But why?”

She lifted her chin a notch, squared her shoulders and straightened her back. “Because,” she said in that matter-of-fact way of hers, “Buddy has asked me to marry him.”

Chapter Three

Kasey pretended to be so engrossed in pulling up her too-big socks that she hadn’t seen Adam, bobbing his head right to left, working out the tension in his neck. She’d struck a nerve of some sort, mentioning Buddy’s name, struck another by admitting he’d proposed to her. She began searching her mind for an appropriate question, one that would explain why.

“I’m whipped,” he said, getting to his feet. He stretched, gave an exaggerated yawn, then headed for his room. “Back in a flash,” he added over his shoulder.

Adam was carrying a pillow and a blanket when he reappeared a moment later. “I’ll bet you’re even more anxious to start countin’ sheep than I am. Good thing I put fresh sheets on the bed this morning, eh?”

Her head was still swimming from the abrupt change of subject. “Adam, I’m not taking your bed.”

“You’re not taking it, I’m giving it to you.”

“But you’ve done so much already. I can’t let you—”

“Trust me, schweetheart,” he said in a barely recognizable Bogie imitation, “nobody lets me do anything.” He dropped the bedding on the coffee table, as if to underscore his statement.

Kasey put her hands on her hips, to underscore her determination.

Eyes locked to hers, he said, “Okay, but I think it’s gonna be pretty uncomfortable out here, both of us trying to share this lumpy ole couch.”

She glanced at the huge, overstuffed sectional. If need be, two adults and maybe a couple of toddlers could spend a comfortable night here…provided, Kasey thought, looking at Adam, one of them wasn’t built like a Baltimore Ravens linebacker.

“I’ve sawed logs out here plenty of times,” he said. “Believe me, I’ll be fine.”

But why would he put himself through a long, torturous night, when he had every right to the big brass bed, visible from the living room?

She already knew why.

Smiling, Kasey recalled that several times since her arrival—as he rushed around to find her something to wear, as he grilled her a cheese sandwich—she’d thought what a nice man Adam was. It had taken only a few minutes of his hospitality to blot out her fears that he might be a murdering maniac. She’d prayed for a warm, dry place filled with warmhearted inhabitants. True to form, God had provided…not “people,” but certainly someone big enough—and big-hearted enough—to be two people! Silently, she thanked Him.

Adam’s quiet baritone broke into her thoughts.

“Would you be more comfortable if I tried to scare up something more, uh, more jammie-like for you to sleep in?”

His fumbling, awkward suggestion added yet another item to her quickly growing Reasons to Like Adam list. Kasey patted her thigh. “You’re sweet to offer, but the sweatsuit is terrific.”

She stood and faced him. “I’d like to sleep right here.” Being able to read people’s faces could sometimes make or break a sale. It appeared she hadn’t yet managed to convince Adam she was serious. “Look at it this way—how many chances does a city girl get to fall asleep in front of a roaring fire?”

He lifted his chin, telling her he still planned to spend the night on the couch. Well, she had “stubborn” down pat herself. “I hate to be a pushy guest, but I insist.”

Adam regarded her for a moment before saying, “Okay, but I think it’s only fair to warn you, I set a trap a couple of hours before you showed up.”

A trap? Kasey rolled her eyes and sighed. “Do I seem like the kind of girl who’d leap onto a chair at the sight of a teensie-weensie mouse?”

Her stomach did a little flip in reaction to the quick once-over from his brown, brown eyes, flipped again when she saw a flirty grin lift one corner of his mouth. Then one dark brow rose on his forehead.

“I’ll admit, you don’t look like the ‘eek’ type.”

Kasey recalled the way she’d behaved when Adam first opened the cabin door. “Do I detect a ‘but’ in that statement?”

His grin grew. “Never said the trap was for a mouse.”

Why was her mouth suddenly dry? “Chipmunk, then?” He stood, feet shoulder-width apart and arms crossed over his chest. If he shaved his head and got a big gold earring, he’d look even more like that cartoon sailor in the cleaning commercial.

“Nope.”

She licked her lips. “Squirrel.”

He shook his head.