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Cocking his head to one side, he looked down at her. “I have never seen a woman who didn’t love to buy herself clothes. So why didn’t you take your first paycheck and buy yourself a whole new wardrobe?”
“I’m saving for something,” she said as she turned around and started walking down the sidewalk. “Let’s see if there’s a library in town. Maybe we can find out something about the local history. Maybe we should check the local newspapers too and see what we can find out about the four people who’ve disappeared. I’d like to know if they were male or female.”
“Female,” he said, but he didn’t take a step forward. “What are you saving for?”
“Freedom,” she answered as she turned and started walking backward, moving farther away from him.
Adam gave a sigh. Maybe he was a snob, but he couldn’t bear to be seen with someone dressed as poorly and as inadequately as she was. “All right,” he said with a sigh and held up the bills.”It’s yours. I won’t take the money out of your pay.”
At that Darci gave a big smile, walked toward him at a surprisingly quick pace, snatched the money from his fingers, then ran across the street, barely missing being hit by two cars, and entered the clothing shop. Adam stood still, his mouth quirked up at one side. “Didn’t take her long to get over her reluctance, did it?” he mumbled as he went toward a park bench to sit and wait. He really hoped she wouldn’t take too long.
But he had no more than sat down when Darci ran back across the street, dodging the light traffic in a way that made him catch his breath.
She had on what had to be the ugliest sweater he’d ever seen in his life. It was thick and probably warm, true, but it looked as if a child had spilled a dozen tubes of acrylic paint on it. And it was so big on her that the sleeves fell below her hands.
“What is that?” he asked.
“A sweater,” she answered, pulling up the sleeves, then running her hands down her arms. “It’s warm.”
“Please tell me that you didn’t pay three hundred dollars for that thing.”
“No, not at all,” Darci said brightly. “Twenty-nine ninety-nine on third markdown. Plus sales tax, of course. That means that I have $268.21 left to put into my savings account.”
Adam didn’t want to argue with her, but his conscience wouldn’t allow someone in his employ to be inadequately clothed—not to mention that he would have to look at the ugly thing. “Follow me,” he said sternly, then led her to the street corner. When the one and only traffic light in Camwell turned red, he walked across the street, Darci running to keep up with him.
Adam opened the door to the little shop. In the window were beautiful, expensive clothes, shoes, and boots. The saleswoman inside looked up, and the moment she saw Adam, wearing his expensive clothes, she smiled warmly, but when Darci entered behind him, her expression changed to a look of disdain. The way Darci was dressed, combined with the fact that she’d bought such a cheap item only moments before, made the woman look down her nose at Darci.
In all his life, Adam had never had anyone look at him the way this woman was looking at Darci, who, as far as he could tell, was oblivious of the saleswoman’s scornful gaze.
With a voice that barely concealed his anger, he held up a platinum credit card and said, “Run this through the machine.”
“I beg your pardon,” the saleswoman said, her eyes still on Darci, who was looking at a rack full of blouses. The woman looked as if she thought Darci was going to shoplift.
“Run this through with a credit card slip,” Adam growled as he nodded toward a pile of old-fashioned slips stacked behind the counter.
That voice got her full attention, and she jumped to obey him. Puzzled, she handed the imprinted slip to him, then Adam signed it. There was no amount on it, just his signature.
“Now dress her from the skin out, and from the feet up,” he said in a low voice meant only for her ears. “And take that hideous sweater back. If you foist another item like that on her, I’ll buy this damned store and burn it down—and I hope to hell you’re not in it when it goes. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” she said meekly.
4
IN HIS ENTIRE LIFE, Adam had never seen anyone as pleased about anything as Darci was about her new clothes. When she walked out of the store carrying three shopping bags in each hand, it was on the tip of his tongue to make a sarcastic remark about how she was obviously good at spending money that wasn’t her own. But the look Adam saw on her face made him withhold his remark. Her eyes were huge and filled with a wonder he’d only seen in toddlers on Christmas morning. Adam had spent a great deal of his life bumming around the world, and he’d seen a lot. “Jaded,” his cousin Elizabeth called him. “Seen it, done it, bored by it” was the family pronouncement about their black-sheep cousin.
But Adam didn’t think he’d ever seen anything like Darci’s face now. She was looking straight ahead, her eyes seeming to see nothing but some inner vision that was making her sublimely happy.
“Want me to carry those?” he asked, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice.
When Darci didn’t answer, he reached down to take one of the bags from her, but her fingers were so tightly clenched about the string handles that he would have had to break her fingers to make her release the bags. “Maybe I should just carry you instead,” he said, but that gibe didn’t get a response from her either. She was still staring into space, her eyes full of wonder.
“Come on,” he said good-naturedly, “let’s go back to the hotel. It’s time for lunch. Hungry?”
When the mention of food didn’t get a reply from her, he waved his hand in front of her face. Darci didn’t blink.
For a moment Adam contemplated throwing Darci over his shoulder and carrying her; the bags probably weighed more than she did. But they were on a public street and he really didn’t want to cause more gossip than need be. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her toward the sidewalk, then gave her a bit of a push to make her legs move; then he steered her toward the street corner.
When the light changed, Adam had to give Darci a harder push to make her start walking again and he had to catch her to keep her from falling as she stepped off the curb. There was one car waiting at the light, and the woman inside put down her window and stuck her head out. “Is she all right?”
“Fine,” Adam said. “New clothes.” He nodded down toward the six shopping bags that Darci was clutching as though they were her life-support system.
“I understand that,” the woman said as she put her head back inside the car, and Adam heard her say, “Why don’t you ever buy me anything new?” to the man beside her.
When they reached the other side of the street, Adam couldn’t get Darci to step up, so he put his hands about her waist and lifted. He was used to women who weighed more than Darci, so when he lifted, she came up about a foot above the curb, her head nearly hitting him in the chin. Once she was on the sidewalk again, he was able to steer her back to the driveway that led to the Grove, then around the main house to their bungalow.
Once inside the door, Darci stood there.
So now what do I do? Adam thought. For all that he’d traveled quite a bit in his life, for all that he’d seen and done many things, domestic situations were not something he was familiar with. What did ...well,what would a husband do in this situation? On the other hand, did normal, ordinary women act this way after they’d been shopping?
Hangers, was his only thought. Maybe he could get her to hang up her new clothes. Maybe that task would bring her out of her trance. With that in mind, Adam went into Darci’s bedroom and opened her closet door. There were hangers in the closet but no clothes. Absolutely none. Where were her clothes?
Curious, Adam went to the chest at the opposite side of the room and opened a drawer. Inside was a pair of often-washed white cotton panties, a pair of socks that were thin at the heel, a pair of neatly folded blue jeans, and a long T-shirt that he assumed was a nightgown. Adam