Chapter 33

Daniel kept an eye on the window as he organized the morning’s prescriptions. When Laurie appeared, his heart jumped. The haunted look around her eyes and the sluggishness in her step tugged at him. He hurried to unlock the door even though ten minutes remained until opening time.

She pointed at the window where the show globe still hung, casting its bluish hue over the floor. “You haven’t changed it yet.”

He smiled, bowled over by the simple tilt of her head while she spoke. “It’s difficult to improve upon perfection—you already said it was your favorite color.”

Her yellow dress fluttered in the wind, its blue flowers matching her cloche. She reached out and touched his sleeve with a gloved hand. “You don’t have to keep it that way for me. I’d love to see some of your different creations—it’s artwork. In a bottle.” A shadow passed in front of her face after she said the word.

“For you—anything.” It took every bit of restraint to keep from pulling her into his arms right there on the sidewalk in front of the world. “How about some breakfast? Coffee?”

She glanced down at the sidewalk, pulling her toes back from a crack that ran the width of the concrete. “I’ve already eaten. But coffee sounds nice. I’m early, again, so I have some time to sit and visit.” She cast a shy glance up at his face. “If you’d like to, that is.”

He reached for the door. “I’d like nothing better. Well, maybe a whole day of visiting . . . but I’ll take what I can get.”

She laughed in time with the jingling of the door and walked inside, heading straight for the fountain counter.

Granddad, stocking supplies at the pharmacy counter, cast a wide smile at the pair. “Laurie, it’s good to see you this morning.”

She hurried to him, her face creasing. “Oh, Mr. Larson—how can you say that after what I put you through yesterday?”

Daniel’s grandfather waved his hands dismissively. “Daniel explained the whole thing. I’m just relieved to have it cleared up.”

“But you lost a whole day’s business and then to have those men going through your store—”

“It would take more than a bunch of government turkeys to shut down this store. We’ve been here practically since the town began.” He squeezed her shoulder. “If you want to make it up to us, let’s see you in here a little more often. We miss your smiling face.”

She blushed and nodded. “I think I can do that.”

Daniel guided her to a stool. “Just coffee this morning? Maybe a pastry?”

She nodded. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you.”

He filled her cup and another for himself and then leaned on the counter across from her, where he could watch her beautiful face. I had her in my arms last night—why didn’t I kiss her? Warmth rushed through him at the thought. “You got home all right?”

“Of course.” Her lips curved upward. “I’ve been walking home by myself since I was five.”

“But that was before we knew the town was full of dangerous rumrunners.”

She lifted her cup and looked at him from under her long lashes. “One fewer than I previously believed.”

He touched the fading bruise on his cheekbone. “I guess I’m losing that swashbuckling appearance. My masquerade is finished.”

“You never did tell me how you got that.”

He lifted his own cup. “You know what they say about these port towns—full of all kinds of shady characters.”

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. Maybe someday.” He pushed his cup along the counter until it sat beside hers, gathering the courage to reach for her fingers. “How is your father doing?”

She stiffened. “Why do you ask?”

“You haven’t picked up any prescriptions for him lately. Is his shoulder doing better?” Daniel chewed on the inside of his lip. He should have known better than to ask that question.

She locked her gaze on the marble counter. “I don’t think he’s in much pain.” Her jaw twitched.

Daniel topped off her coffee. “I wish he’d talk to his doctor about some of the other options.”

“Me, too.” She dropped a sugar cube into the cup and swirled it with her spoon. Her voice lowered. “You know—don’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”

He laid his elbows on the counter, leaning forward so he could keep his voice low. “Yes. Johnny told me about your father’s situation.” Granddad had retreated from sight. Daniel reached for her hand. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. He is the one with the problem—not you.”

She ran a fingertip along the side of his hand. “It’s not that easy. If he keeps drinking like this, he’s going to lose his job. And then what’s going to happen to us?”

“Would it help if I talked to him?”

She shook her head. “No. It would only embarrass and anger him.”

He blew air out through his teeth. “I wish there were some magic concoction I could blend up and send home with you that would just take away his longing for booze. But unfortunately . . . ”

Laurie’s brow furrowed. “Did Johnny tell you where my father is getting his liquor?”

Daniel thought carefully before responding. “Do you know?”

“Johnny’s supplying it. Can you believe that?” Laurie pulled her hand back. Her face flushed and tiny lines formed around her mouth. “Why would he do such a thing?”

“Did you ask him?” Daniel reached for a cleaning rag to wipe the counter, uncomfortable with the fact that he knew the answers to her questions.

“Of course.” Her eyes flashed. “He said he was afraid Dad would get some of the tainted stuff.”

Daniel nodded. “That makes some sense. That’s why Granddad carries it in the store.”

She squeezed her hands around her coffee cup. “By giving him the booze, Johnny’s just encouraging him to drink. We should be trying to keep it away from him. Sober him up and maybe he’ll listen to reason.”

“Maybe.” Daniel took another sip of his coffee, apprehension growing in his stomach. Her father’s struggle felt all too familiar to him. “But alcoholics will find a way to feed their desires. He has to want to change, and then if he can get into a hospital program—”

Laurie’s eyes grew wide. “Hospital program? What would people say?”

“No one would need to know. You could say he was there for some other reason.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. It would be hard to get him to agree.” She shifted on her stool. “Of course it might be easier if you and Johnny would let him sober up a bit, first.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Your booze is every bit as bad as Johnny’s.”

“It’s not my booze.” The jab cut deep. “And I don’t write the prescriptions.”

She stared into her cup. “You fill them.”

Daniel stuck his hand in his pocket, reaching for the temperance coin. “It’s my grandfather’s decision, not mine.”

Laurie’s shoulders sank and her eyes fixed on her fingers folded in front of her.

Daniel felt like crawling under the counter. He reached for her again, desperate to bring the light back to her face. “I’ll speak to my grandfather. Maybe we can come up with some ideas.”

She pressed fingers against her lips, eyes glistening. “Thank you.”

When the door jingled, Daniel reluctantly drew his hand away. The customers—two older women—smiled and waved before walking in the direction of the pharmacy counter. Granddad appeared from the back room to greet them.

Daniel leaned close. “What time are you off tonight?”

A smile twitched on her lips. “Six o’clock.”

“Care for another evening stroll?”

She slid from her stool. “I don’t know. I hear there are a lot of dangerous types hanging about.”

He puffed out his chest. “I’d keep you safe. I’m quite the brawler, you know.”

She laughed. “How could I resist such an offer?”

Daniel watched, in a trance, as she walked to the door and cast a final smile at him over her shoulder.

Port Angeles is looking a little finer every day.