Adam's Promise Page 12
“He’s okay, but I don’t like that he bugs you.”
“I’d think a good-looking stallion like that would sway you to get out your lasso.” He touched her arm, then urged her to sit beside him.
“I can’t deny he’s handsome, but then…” She let her gaze travel over Adam’s drawn, tired face. “If we’re talking horses, I prefer an Arabian myself—intelligent, well-bred. No need to rope and tie them.”
Adam gave her a puzzled smile. “Did you have one in mind?” He slid his hand along her arm and rested his palm on her hand.
Kate clutched the sheet, afraid to enjoy the intimate pleasure that wove through her chest. “I’m looking,” she said, hoping he didn’t hear how breathless she was.
“You’re tense,” Adam said, shifting his hand to squeeze her shoulder.
“It’s all the questions…all the problems since this horrible ordeal happened.” She shifted to face him. “And now, this thing with you.” She gestured toward the IV. “You feel it, too.”
His fingers worked along the cords of her neck and Kate relaxed with his touch.
His hands faltered. “Sure, I feel it. I’m tired of the questions. I’m frustrated because I can’t remember a thing, and…”
Adam’s voice trailed off while Kate waited, hoping he’d state what was on his mind. He needed to talk, and she was anxious to listen.
Finally he dropped his hands and gave her a direct look. “I’m scared silly. Someone wants me dead. I have no idea what’s going on. For the first time in my life, I feel helpless. Out of control. Frightened.”
She took his hand in hers and held it in her lap. She felt his blood pulsate through his body…his cold hands—skilled, wonderful hands—had grown weak from all the recent traumatic events.
“I’m defenseless, Kate. I’ve paraded around my whole life looking self-assured. Confident.” He sent her a wry smile. “Even a little cocky.”
She gave him an eager nod, hoping to release the stress that wracked them both.
“I’ve been a believer and tried to do what God wants me to do. I’ve given to others—time, talent, treasures.”
He slipped his hand beneath hers, cupping it in both of his while his eyes pleaded. “But this is the first time in my life I feel helpless and know I need God’s mercy and protection.”
“And love,” Kate said.
He turned to her with questioning eyes.
“We all need to understand that God loves His children. I’ve watched your father strut and fret since you’ve been in here. He pounds his fists and bellows about lawsuits and negligence.”
Adam’s expression softened with the hint of a grin. “That’s my dad.”
“And he does it for you, Adam. Why? Because he loves you so much. Our heavenly Father’s love is even greater than that.”
Adam didn’t speak, but Kate could sense he understood what she was saying.
“‘But the Lord is faithful,’” she continued, “‘and he will strengthen and protect you from the evil one.’ It’s in Thessalonians. It’s a favorite verse of mine, because it shows us the depth of God’s love and power.”
Their own silence surrounded them. Footsteps clicked in the hallway. Voices drifted along the corridor. The overhead light gave a faint hum, but they said nothing.
“Thank you,” Adam said finally. He reached over and caressed her cheek.
The gentle touch raced through her, weaving into her emotions and stirring her longing.
Surprised, Kate looked into his eyes and was startled by the mist she saw there. She opened her arms, and Adam closed the distance between them, resting his head against her head. His body pressed against her shoulder and her heart thundered at his nearness.
Why am I doing this, Lord? The question rocked her serenity.
Adam wasn’t the only one who’d become vulnerable. He wasn’t the only one taking chances. Kate could only reap hurt and sadness once Adam was well and out of the hospital. He had never liked her. Yet here she’d stayed, like that little lapdog. The wagging-tail puppy willing to lick the crumbs from the floor. Still, she couldn’t stop herself. Right now, they needed each other.
“Could we pray together?” she asked, releasing her grip and easing back.
He eyed her with a puzzled look.
She didn’t ask its meaning.
Adam nodded, and they joined hands.
Kate kept her voice modulated, slow and steady, hoping Adam wouldn’t sense her wavering emotions. “Heavenly Father, we are Your children and need Your loving care. Hold Your hand over us and protect us from evil. Give us strength and comfort in this time of terror.”
She felt Adam’s hand grip hers and sensed the internal struggle he dealt with to pray aloud. “And, Lord, I thank You for keeping me here on earth a little longer. Let me feel Your presence in my life. In Jesus’ name.”
Their amens joined as one.
Hearing his prayer, Kate’s heart veered off course. She was losing the battle with reality. Her heart was winning.
Chapter Twelve
Kate’s mind lingered on her talk with Sam as she pulled into the Galilee Women’s Shelter parking lot and climbed out of Adam’s car. She eyed the facility, a three-story sandstone structure with a broad front porch that ran its length. She felt saddened that the impressive building was located in the least respected part of town.
As she drew closer, she witnessed the contrast of the newer redbrick two-story building that appeared to connect two older sections. With so many doors, she didn’t know where to enter. She assumed walking into the women’s shelter would be inappropriate. They valued their privacy.
“Kate.”
She swung around and saw Liza waving to her from the parking lot. Kate waited, pleased Adam’s mother had arrived to solve her quandary.
“The redbrick addition houses the administrative offices,” Liza said. She waved her forward, and Kate went ahead, holding the door open for the petite woman.
“I hope this meeting didn’t throw you off schedule,” Liza said. “I know you have so much to do.”
“No, it’s fine. I need a diversion from all the stress.”
“You poor dear. It’s all so frightening, isn’t it? I can’t believe someone wants to harm Adam. I haven’t slept well since it happened.”
“Same for me,” Kate said. “It’s too hard to believe.”
Their heels tapped along the empty corridor, and when they reached the conference room, Liza led the way inside and greeted a woman standing at the long table.
Jessica Mathers lifted her head and gave Kate a friendly smile. Her light brown hair rounded into a soft cap framing her pleasant face. Her manner struck Kate as a woman who knew her business and had the drive to make things happen. But it wasn’t only her professional qualities that really caught Kate’s attention. Kate connected immediately with the look in Jessica’s gray eyes. Something deeper—past hurts or present longings—some fragile aura that roused Kate’s curiosity.
“Welcome,” Jessica said, moving toward Kate with her arm extended.
“Thank you,” Kate said, accepting her slender hand. “I’m glad I can help.”
“Liza has told me so much about you. You’re rather a heroine, I understand.”
Kate shook her head. “Not really. God just put me in the right place at the right time.”
“I’m sure everyone’s thankful,” Jessica said. She motioned to the chairs around the table. “Have a seat. We’re waiting on a couple more ladies, and then our shelter director wants to stop in and say hello.”
Kate pulled out a chair situated closest to the door and sat. Though pleased to support the program, being there left her uneasy, knowing she had so little to offer and feeling too familiar with the horrific stories that surrounded the women making their home at the shelter.
Liza joined her, then greeted two other women who arrived and made introductions. They seemed genial and conversation centered on the community and their private lives.
In
a few minutes, an exquisite-looking woman with sparkling dark eyes and short black hair that fell in corkscrew curls just below her ears stepped through the doorway. Her broad smile—enhanced by white teeth contrasting her mahogany skin—brightened the room.
“So good to have you here,” she said. “I’m Susan Carter, director of Galilee Women’s Shelter. I’ve met a couple of you before, but again, I want to welcome you to the shelter and thank you from the bottom of my heart for your willingness to do Jesus’ work for those who have such great needs.”
The group murmured their responses, flattered yet humble because they knew serving was one of God’s commandments.
“Our work would be much more difficult without the help of Jessica Mathers who handles all our fund-raising and contributions. Jessica is fairly new to us, but her understanding of the need and her true devotion to the cause has made a huge difference since she’s been with us. I want to thank her from the bottom of my heart.”
Quiet applause rippled around the room while Jessica lifted her hand to graciously silence them.
Susan took a step backward. “I’ll let you get on with your work, but again, welcome and thank you so much for your willingness to volunteer.”
As Susan left the room, Jessica rose from her place at the table and passed around a handout. “Our purpose today is to look at the jobs that need to be done and see where you feel you can best fit in. Take a look at the list and see which task might work for you and your schedule.” She paused a moment. “Does anyone have a preference?”
“I usually work nights,” Kate said, “so I’d be happy to make some follow-up calls for donations. I’m not sure I’ll have evenings available for the other jobs.”
“No problem.” She looked at the women, studying the paper. “Anyone else?”
Kate eyed the sheet again. “I’ll stuff invitation envelopes, too.” Anything to fill her time with something other than mooning over Adam. It would also help her keep her thoughts from the awful things that had happened since the shooting.
“We need lots of stuffers,” Jessica said, sending her a teasing smile. “Others?”
Liza volunteered to join Kate in stuffing envelopes. Others jumped in to take on other tasks.
Kate marveled at their eagerness. The shelter had stirred thoughts of her childhood—days when she and her mother had no food to eat and nights with no bed to sleep in. She gazed around the room at the enthusiastic faces filled with concern for others.
And Jessica. Kate saw compassion and generosity in the woman’s thoughtful eyes. What sorrow did she still harbor? Kate hid her own problems so well, she had learned to spot them in others.
As the discussion proceeded, Kate’s curiosity grew. “I’m volunteering to help, and I have no idea what this fund-raiser is.”
Jessica’s eyes widened. “Good question. I thought everyone knew. This is one of this year’s larger efforts. It’s unique and I think will be a lot of fun…and get a lot of press.”
Liza gave a little laugh and aroused Kate’s curiosity.
“We’re having a silent auction with a starting bid of one thousand dollars. Some single men of our community have agreed to be auctioned off along with a dream date package.”
Dream dates? Kate couldn’t imagine.
Within seconds, Jessica answered her unspoken question. “Some dates will include activities such as a romantic dinner party at the Broadmoor, a golf weekend, a whitewater rafting adventure, three days at the Lost Valley Ranch, a spa weekend, season tickets to a sports venue. We’ve been soliciting some wonderful prizes.”
“Sounds intriguing,” Kate said. “What a great idea.” An unbidden vision rose in her head of her and Adam enjoying a romantic dinner at the Broadmoor or enjoying a whitewater adventure. “How did you coerce the bachelors?”
Jessica folded her hands across her chest. “Our single men didn’t have a chance when their mothers and grandmothers came to our aid. I’m sure we have a few reluctant men, but they’re all being good sports.”
“My own son volunteered,” Liza said.
Kate’s enthusiasm sank. Adam? Would he have agreed to be raffled off? She studied Liza’s face, afraid to ask. And if he did, Kate didn’t have a thousand dollars to even make the opening bid.
“Jake’s a good sport,” Jessica said, halting Kate’s concern. “I was pleased he agreed.”
Kate’s shoulders relaxed. The ambiguous feelings confused her. Adam had caressed her cheek and held her hand, but Kate faced facts. She was a diversion. He was recovering from an injury and complications. He was only amusing himself until he was well. That was it. How often had he said he wanted his freedom? Being tied to a relationship certainly took a bite out of independence.
Throughout her life, Kate had experienced plenty of freedom. More than she’d bargained for…more than she could bear. Walking hand in hand with someone might feel wonderful. Her hand warmed envisioning Adam’s fingers embracing hers.
“What do you think of our project, Kate?” Jessica asked. “What brings you here besides Liza’s prodding?”
Kate grinned at Adam’s mother. For a gentle woman, she did pack a wallop when it came to evoking action.
“I’m a nurse,” Kate said. “I’ve worked with a lot of needy, hurting people. I just returned from Venezuela where my heart broke for the families so embedded in poverty that their lives seemed hopeless. My goal is to help people. I try to keep their hopes alive. I know that bad things happen to good people—” Kate felt her throat constrict, thinking back to her own personal struggles “—and I’d like to be part of giving them hope and help.”
“That’s a wonderful, heartfelt mission,” Jessica said.
Kate winced inside that she’d allowed herself to be so obvious. “Nurses see a lot of unfortunate things.” She hoped her response camouflaged the truth.
Liza slid her hand across the tabletop and rested it on Kate’s. She gave a comforting pat. Had Adam’s mother read more into her comment than she’d wanted to reveal?
The dark shadows in Jessica’s eyes made Kate wonder if their lives had followed a similar path. Kate sensed Jessica could be a good friend. She could talk with her and share her past…but not with Liza. She was wonderful, but she was Adam’s mother. She would never truly accept Kate if she knew the truth.
And Adam could never know the details of her past. He would pity her, and she wanted no one’s pity. She had pulled herself up from the depths and now had a career and an acceptable income. That’s all she could ask for…and that’s all she expected the good Lord to give her. He’d blessed her fully.
Unexpected, Liza’s words rose in her thoughts. History and contribution don’t make the person. God is what’s important. “Rich and poor have this in common: The Lord is the Maker of them all.”
The thought rolled over Kate. Could she be wrong? Would Liza accept her if she knew the truth?
Saturday afternoon, Sam turned on the car’s air conditioner full blast. The temperature had risen and so had his anxiety. The case he’d been on seemed to head in so many directions. He hated ignoring Adam’s questions but he couldn’t talk about the case. He’d learned the victim in Venezuela had a connection with La Mano Oscura—the Dark Hand—a drug cartel. They hadn’t nabbed the other perp. He was running free. But now, the question pressed on Sam’s mind what a drug cartel would be doing in a clinic dispensary. He could only guess someone agreed to steal from the dispensary to pay off a local pusher who’d planned to sell the drugs on the black market.
Sam had also nosed around and finally hit pay dirt here at home. He’d learned that drugs, mainly narcotics, were heisted from Vance Memorial over a year ago. The drug issue seemed to be the main constant between Colorado Springs and Doctors Without Borders, but without more concrete information nothing made sense yet…but it would. He’d see to that.
When he pulled up to a stoplight, Sam glanced at his watch. He had a few minutes. He’d promised to meet Kate at the Stagecoach Café at noon. His mind str
uggled with her, too. What was her role in all this? Her relationship with Adam had all the makings of a romance, but they both appeared to be oblivious to it. Or was she?
With his eye for judging people, Sam couldn’t imagine her being a part of the problems in Venezuela, but he couldn’t be too careful. He’d tried to make sense out of it all, but neither Adam or Kate gave an inch. They were as closemouthed as he was.
His gaze drifted to the shade trees in Acacia Park on his right. The sun shimmered off his car hood. He’d give a five spot for a little less glare. He reached across the seat for his sunglasses. Leaning forward, he caught a glimpse of a silver Mercedes pulled to the side of the road. His father owned a silver Mercedes and his curiosity bumped a notch.
He rolled forward a car length, and his heart walloped against his chest. His father leaned against his car, his keys dangling from his fingers while Alistair Barclay stood beside him. Their conversation looked intense.
Sam’s mind spun with concern. What would his father be doing talking to Barclay? Though the mogul had done nothing illegitimate that anyone could prove, the entire department had their eye on him. But mouths were shut and Sam didn’t know why.
The light turned and Sam pulled away. He felt sick with apprehension. Max Vance’s name was respected. Would he jeopardize it by getting involved with Barclay? Another jolt of worry jarred Sam’s thoughts. His father had retired from the CIA a few years earlier. Had he been called back into service? Sam’s heart slid to his feet. Not this close to home. No. Dad wouldn’t endanger his family’s lives.
Another idea shot through Sam’s thoughts. Was his dad trying to get the goods on Barclay? He’d played havoc with the Montgomery family’s construction company. Max had been bitter hearing how jobs had been stolen out from under them. Would he do that for an old friend?
Worse yet, was he probing without legal sanction? He could jeopardize any investigation that might be ongoing and still put the Vances in danger.
Sam despised every possibility. His father was a well-respected citizen of Colorado Springs. He loved his family. Would he put either in jeopardy?