“Can you keep a secret?”
“I don’t lie.” Can’t would have been the more correct term.
“Fair enough. Everyone will find out soon enough, anyway. I wanted a vacation. Town politics can be so draining. After my heart attack, I thought I could do with a little less stress.”
“How’s that working out for you?” Adriel couldn’t resist needling him a little. Ed’s expression darkened.
“I’ll just be on my way. Once again, I’d like to thank you for everything you did for Lydia. And for the lemonade.” Cane thumping across the porch, Ed took his leave. Adriel watched the pinpoint of light until it was no longer visible before going back inside.
Chapter 11
“One of those strawberry cream-filled donuts and a cup of decaf.” Adriel looked up to see a vision in white. Colonel Sanders style—complete with mustache, Panama hat, cane, and neck scarf. Kind eyes twinkled under bushy brows over a disarming smile. “You’re new. I’ve never seen you here before.” Adriel judged it would take at least fifteen years before he aged into being a dead ringer for the chicken guru. This man was still in the early salt and pepper stage.
“I’m Adriel.”
“And you can forget hitting on her, you old rogue,” Pam swung in from the back to tease her long-time customer. “She’s got better sense than to be taken in by the likes of you.” To Adriel, she said, “This is William Dooley. He’s not half as charming as he likes to think.”
“Nice to meet you.” Adriel offered her hand in the traditional greeting, only to have him turn it over gently and kiss the back of it—the mustache bristled across her skin. Not as soft as it looks, she thought.
“Call me Bill.”
Mr. Dooley carried his donut and coffee to the table by the window. Adriel felt his eyes resting on her from time to time while he ate slowly and with great relish. She didn’t blame him; Wiletta made the strawberry cream from scratch. Eating one of those donuts was an extremely pleasurable experience.
Questions trembled on his tongue. The only one that made it to the surface was, “How do you find our little town, Adriel.” He softened the A to an ah sound and rolled the R to make her name sound more exotic than it already was. “Quieter than where you’re from?”
“Longbrook is a lovely place. I’ve grown quite fond of it over the past few weeks.” Adriel deflected his attempt to pry information from her with a smile. “Did you grow up here?”
A shadow of strong emotion flitted over his features. If she hadn’t been watching closely, she probably would have missed it. “Until I ran away to join the circus.”
“The circus?” she repeated.
“Well, not exactly, but close. The rodeo came to town when I was but a callow youth with a few indiscretions in my past. I talked my way onto a bronc and found I had a knack for floating.” A quirk of regret twisted his lips. “Sometimes running away is the same as running toward—if you get what I mean. My short career ended when I got freight-trained by a bull. Busted a hip that never healed right.”
“Sounds like quite a story. Maybe you’ll tell me about it in more detail sometime.” She could relate to his logic when it came to running in any direction.
Pam called through from the kitchen. “Pry the top off that can of worms, and you’ll be up to your ears in slimy wigglers before you can say ‘rodeo clown’.”
“Pipe down back there. It’s not every day I get a set of new ears to bend with stories from my illustrious past.” Bill softened the words with a smile.
“Tall tales, every one of them.” Pam’s voice held a hint of fondness. She stepped out of the kitchen to round the counter with a new pot of decaf. Bill’s shoulders raised under the padded white of his suit jacket. Pam lifted the pot in an offer to top off his mug, but Bill laid a hand over it with a small shake of his head.
“Places to be.” He turned to Adriel, “Miss Adriel, it was truly a pleasure to meet you. I’ll be seeing you around.” He gulped the last of the coffee before making his way out the door.
She watched him pass by the window, leaning heavily on a polished black cane to help correct his uneven gait. Pam stepped up beside her to speak out of the corner of her mouth, “It’s his story to tell—not that he’s apt to trot the sordid parts of it out for you—but the way I heard it, it was more than a love for horses that dragged him out of town.” Her cryptic comment piqued Adriel’s interest, even though she preferred not to indulge in idle gossip. A short war between doing the right thing and prying information from Pam raged through her. Now she understood how easy it was to give in to temptation. The desire to hear everything Pam had to say was almost as strong as her distaste for talking about someone behind their back.
Pam’s next words clinched Adriel’s descent into sin.
“He left right after my brother went missing.” A prickle of awareness raised gooseflesh on Adriel’s arms. This was information she needed to hear. Pam had touched on the tragedy before. Now, Adriel hoped for more detail.
“Biggest mystery in Longbrook. My little brother went out for a ride on his bike and never returned. He was eight years old. Cute as a button and so sweet.” Sorrow picked out the lines in Pam’s face as she talked. “You hear about sibling rivalry, but for Ben and me it was never like that. The whole town searched for him for days. Weeks, really. No trace was ever found. After a while, the rumors started flying. He’d run away because my parents were abusing him; my mother
