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“I’m still her father, and you have no right to put your hands on my daughter.”
Adam took a second to get his anger under control. The man had just walked in on Adam mere seconds from stripping his daughter from her clothes and having his way with her in a haystack. Any man would take exception to that. So rather than tell this man what he could do with his opinions, he’d hold his tongue. Mostly.
“With all due respect, sir,” he said, “Nora is the only one who has the right to decide that.”
The man still had his dander up, but most of the fight seemed to have gone out of him.
Adam bent to retrieve Mr. Schumacher’s gun and emptied it of ammunition before handing it back to him.
Then he turned toward the house. He needed to get out of these wet clothes. With Mr. Schumacher back home, Adam would definitely be sleeping in the barn again tonight. The chickens would be happy. They probably missed him. More importantly, though, he needed to see how Nora was doing.
Because no matter how strong that woman was, her father was obviously a weak spot for her. And he’d said some horrible things.
Adam wouldn’t be able to rest until he was sure Nora knew not a single thing her father had said was true.
And then he’d go find a few chickens to cuddle with for the night.
Chapter Nineteen
Nora stomped into the house, letting the door slam shut behind her. Her father had angered her before, but this time her blood pounded in her ears with the vehemence of it.
How dare he! Howdarehe!
She stood seething in the middle of the kitchen until she finally sucked in a deep breath, went to the bucket of water she’d left on the counter that morning, and grabbed the cloth that was drying on the sink. The counter already gleamed, but it could always use another wash.
She didn’t even pay attention to what she was washing down as her mind careened from one thought to another, too furious to settle on any particular thing. Her throat ached with tears that she tried to keep at bay, but they spilled down her cheeks anyway. She batted them away angrily and kept on scrubbing.
Her father had been this way for years now. But somehow, today felt so much worse. She closed her eyes and let out a tortured breath, her chest aching. She knew why it was different. Why it felt so much more…horrible. Humiliating.
This time, Adam had seen. He’d heard how her father had spoken to her. The things he’d said. He’d seen her father’s red-rimmed eyes, seen the shake in his hand, heard the contempt he had for her in his voice.
Everyone knew the demons her father fought. Hell, they saw it often enough, since her father spent most of his free time in the tavern. Even Adam had seen that his first day here. Dealt with it even. But…that had been before. It hadn’t been so personal then. And now…
The private part of her life that she kept hidden from everyone had just been ripped open and laid bare at Adam’s feet, at the exact moment he’d torn down her defenses and…
His arms came around her from behind, and she sucked in a breath. She hadn’t heard him come in. Her body went rigid, and she squeezed her eyes tight, fighting to get herself under control before she disgraced herself even more in front of him.
He plucked the rag from her hands and then wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in again until her back was tight to his chest. He rested his chin on her shoulder and just held her, not saying a word, until she slowly relaxed and sank against him, bringing her arms up to rest on top of his.
After a few minutes, she took a deep breath and let it back out. “Where is he?”
“He rode off after I came in, toward town.”
Nora nodded. He was probably headed back to the tavern. She should care, but at the moment, she was just glad he wasn’t still at home.
“Why do you stay?” Adam asked, his voice quiet, sincere.
A small, sad smile played on her lips, and she gently pulled away but didn’t turn to look at him. The reason she stayed…the answer wasn’t simple. Her fingers trailed along the wooden counter, tracing the apples and blossoms that were carved into the border.
“My grandfather carved these into the counter when I was five. He knew how much I loved apples. They’re carved into most of the surfaces around the house.”
She leaned forward and touched the lace curtains at the window above the sink. “My grandmother made these for my mother’s birthday one year. I helped her wrap them with the prettiest blue ribbon. It was the last birthday my grandmother celebrated with her.”
Adam leaned against the counter, and she could feel him watching her as she moved to the small table in the corner and ran a finger along the back of a chair. “I made this. It was the first thing my grandfather taught me to make. I was ten,” she said with a fond smile. “It took a few tries to get right and it’s still a little lopsided. But he was so proud.”
Then she walked to the door and looked out. “I planted my first flower in that box near the window. I helped deliver every one of the goats in the barn. We built that fence together, my grandfather, my father, and me.” She swallowed hard against the emotion gathering in her throat, and Adam came to stand beside her. “He was different back then, before my mother died. I wish you could have known him. Sometimes…sometimes I think I still see the man he used to be in there. But when my mother died…” She bit her lip and finally looked up to meet Adam’s eyes. “Something in him just died along with her. But…”
She looked around the warm, cozy kitchen that had always been a place of refuge for her. Just the smell of the polish on the wood, the faint, familiar thumping of the one shutter outside the window that never quite stayed latched… She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
