Adam's Thorn Read online

  ~*~

  Fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, Barbie drew several deep, steadying breaths, trying to ignore her trembling fingers.

  God, Adam Moor could get to her like no one else ever could, not when she was a wild teenager and not even now. She was calm, poised, a little volatile at times, sure, but she’d learned to control herself, to think before speaking. It had taken her awhile but she’d learned, and she’d been proud of it.

  Then along came Adam Moor and blew it all to shit in mere minutes.

  Easing her grip on the steering wheel, she assured herself it was a temporary slip, she was in control. She was here to sort out her late Great Aunt Penny’s house that had been left to her, and then she was out of this dinky town. It was nice, from what she’d seen of it, but she wasn’t a country girl. Besides, she had things to do back home in the city, a living to make.

  Doing her masseuse job here paid a little, but nowhere near enough to make a living. Massages weren’t the ‘in thing’ in Peeron that was for sure. If it wasn’t for the amount of money Great Aunt Penny had left her, she’d have to move back home now, but luckily the house was liveable with enough money to repair it in preparation for going on the market and selling for a good price. Yes, at the moment it did leak a little when it rained, and the stairs creaked something awful, and as for the dark hallway…

  Barbie shivered. It was just a big, old house, that was all. She really had to stop reading horror stories in bed.

  Pulling into the tyre repair shop which stood beside the one and only service station, Barbie went inside to make arrangements to have her tyre repaired.

  The owner was a grizzled man, thin and scrawny with a beaming smile that showed surprisingly white teeth, who introduced himself as ‘Gus, the owner’ before proceeding to take the tyre from the boot and assuring her he’d have it ready the next morning for her to pick up.

  Then he leaned against the Laser and studied her. “So, Penny’s great niece, huh?”

  “Yep.” She edged towards the door.

  Seemingly without noticing, Gus slid across until he leaned against the driver’s door. “Staying up at the old house, huh?”

  Resigned to answering his questions, she sighed inwardly but smiled outwardly. “Yep.”

  “Doing it up, I hear.”

  Peeron was a small town and she needed customers. It would be wise to be a little friendlier. Relaxing a little, she put her weight on one foot. “It needs some work.”

  Gus nodded. “Penny was always tight with the money, didn’t like spending anything unless it was necessary.”

  That about matched what Barbie’s parents had said.

  “Woman wouldn’t even buy a bit of turkey or anything for Christmas dinner,” Gus continued. “She was caught by Adam one year eating a sandwich.”

  Curiosity pricked at her. “What was he doing at her place?”

  “The first year he came back here, he was working the Christmas beat and decided to check in on the old folks. Always had a big heart, that boy.” Gus smiled. “She answered the door eating a sandwich. Didn’t take Adam but a minute to realise what was going on. Every Christmas since, he always stopped off at her house with a plate of Christmas dinner and a present.”

  Barbie frowned.

  Gus noticed and mistook her reaction. “She had the money, girlie, don’t worry. She was just too tight to waste it on fripperies, as she called it. But I noticed that after Christmas, Adam always had a gift on his doorstep.”

  Huh, that had to be it. “So, he was getting presents in exchange.”

  “Yep. Penny always made her own jam from her strawberries, never shared it with anyone, but Adam always got four jars after every Christmas.”

  Jam. Four jars of jam. That wasn’t a big or expensive gift. Barbie sighed.

  “I reckon Penny waited to see if the boy’d turn up with her dinner. Guarantee if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have gotten his jam.” Gus laughed. “But he never stopped and neither did your great aunt.” He looked thoughtfully at Barbie. “You make jam?”

  “I buy jam.”

  “Shame.”

  She arched one brow. “Do you make jam?”

  “Why would I make jam?”

  “Why would I?”

  Gus scratched his head. “Fair enough.”

  Mentally rolling her eyes, Barbie reached past him for the door handle.

  Taking the hint, he stepped away form the car. “So, the house.”

  Opening the door, she got in.

  No sooner had she shut it than Gus leaned down, his forearms resting on the windowsill. “You going to live here?”

  “No, sir, I’m not.” Smiling, she started the engine. “I’m fixing up the house and selling it.”

  “Really?” He looked genuinely surprised. “Why?”

  “Why not?” She put the car into gear.

  “Peeron’s a nice town. You could do worse than settle here.”

  “I have a job back home. Family. Friends.”

  “Huh.” He straightened. “You could find a nice bloke here, get hitched, have a couple of kids.”

  Geez, that was a bit forward. “Ah…Gus? It is Gus, isn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m fixing the house up to sell.” Se gave him a pointed look. “I’ll be back in the morning to pick up the tyre.”

  Driving away, she shook her head. Geez.

  Pulling into the supermarket car park, she grabbed a trolley and headed inside. So far she’d picked up a few things, but knowing that she was going to be here for a few months longer at least, she might as well stock up properly.

  Not long after she’d had the altercation with Adam at the restaurant, she’d had to go back to the city to take extended leave from her job, close up her duplex, and collect more of her belongings.

  Peeron was going to be her home for as long as it took to get the big old house fixed up and sold, then she was returning home to open up her own business. Her old boss didn’t know that and caution stopped her form resigning straight away. One never knew what the future held.

  Once she would have been reckless, leaping before she looked, but things had happened since then. That totally unpleasant episode with Adam and her family, and then her mother’s illness. Nope, she’d learned a lot in a very short time and now she was in control of her own destiny - in a totally civilized way.

  However, to be perfectly truthful, if she’d known that Adam lived in Peeron, was born and bred there and had returned, she wouldn’t have gone near the town if her life had depended on it, but by the time she’d realised it was too late. She’d made commitments, and one of the things she’d learned was to stand by her commitments.

  Besides, she assured herself, studying the section of the aisle containing cat food, Adam meant nothing to her, the past was the past, and all she had to do was avoid him until it was time to go home. It wasn’t as though he’d seek her out, and she sure as hell wasn’t intending to seek him out.

  Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders with renewed determination and focussed on the cat food. Fred and Barney had particular tastes in their food and woe betide if she didn’t serve up what they wanted. The two cats knew how to run a guilt trip. More than once they’d had her grovelling and apologising as they’d surveyed the expensive new brand of cat food with disdainful expressions. They knew what they wanted, and so did she.

  Besides, she loved indulging them. Grinning, Barbie put tins and packets into the trolley, along with two big bags of kitty litter. They were her babies, her faithful companions, and the loves of her life. She and her cats were a package deal.

  As she made her way through the supermarket several people nodded to her, a few new customers stopped her to tell her how marvellous they felt after their massages and to book another time - hadn’t they heard of phoning for appointments? - and several older ladies eyed her with open curiosity.

  Yep, she recognised them, all right. She might be relatively new in town, but even she’d heard
the gossip when the Mackay girl had lost her temper in the supermarket and had apparently wigged out at two of the ladies, a Mrs Swanson and a Mrs Hubble. Barbie was wary of gossipers and deliberately kept a polite distance from them, only nodding and smiling, answering ‘yes’ and ‘no’, and giving nothing of her plans away.

  Though she’d probably blown that up by telling Gus. Not that it mattered, who cared if anyone knew she didn’t plan on staying? Maybe someone would come forward who was interested in buying the house and she wouldn’t have to bother with advertising.

  Checking the list in her hand, she continued to move through the supermarket. For a small town it was pretty impressive, but then it catered not only to the locals, but also outlying farms, stations even further out, and passing travellers. It had everything needed as well as a good variety of local fresh produce.

  One big bonus point for Peeron. Two actually. It was a pretty place, almost quaint, with its many old buildings and homes dating back to the early nineteen hundreds and older, all mixed in with newer homes.

  She guessed she’d kind of miss that, she’d always liked history.

  By the time she got to the counter the basket was half full. Hallie, the Goth-inspired teenage checkout-chick, started putting the groceries through. She smiled slightly at Barbie but said nothing.

  Having met her couple of times now, Barbie rather liked her. Goth-inspired she might be, but she had a fashion sense all her own. Dark red, almost black lipstick, jet black hair in a tight braid, a black leather collar around her neck, dark eye make-up, and black clothes. But there it ended, her own style appearing in the form of bright yellow button earrings, a fake jewel stuck to the middle of her forehead, and pale pink nail polish. On her t-shirt, right above the grinning white skull, was a dainty flower brooch. On her feet she wore gladiator sandals. On the radio behind her country music played, and Hallie bopped along to it when she wasn’t serving anyone, obviously enjoying the music. Neither sullen nor morbid, she smiled readily, seemingly finding life amusing going by the twinkle in her heavily made-up eyes.

  Yeah, Barbie liked a girl with her own style and a sense of humour.

  Hallie bagged the last of the groceries. “That’ll be a hundred and four dollars, thanks.”

  “Hallie!” Mrs Hubble gasped from where she’d been standing behind Barbie studying her purchases shamelessly. “Does your mother know you got your tongued pierced?”

  “She will soon,” Hallie replied without batting an eyelid.

  Barbie grinned.

  “What will Adam say?” Mrs Hubble continued, aghast. “He’s the local law and your cousin. He has a reputation to uphold.”

  “No worries, he doesn’t have his tongue pierced.”

  Barbie couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped.

  Hallie looked at her, startled, before smiling slowly.

  One glance at Mrs Hubble’s darkening frown informed Barbie that she’d made a mistake. Oops.

  “Did I say something funny?” Mrs Hubble demanded.

  “No, Hallie did,” Barbie replied.

  Hallie’s smile widened.

  “It’s hardly funny for a young girl to pierce things that shouldn’t be pierced!”

  “Could be worse. It’s just her tongue, not her clit.”

  Even Hallie’s mouth fell open at that, her eyes growing rounder.

  Oops again. Cursing her runaway tongue, Barbie straightened, intending to apologise to an appalled Mrs Hubble, only to see the older woman walking away in a huff, disappearing into a nearby aisle with haste.

  “Geez.” Switching her gaze to Hallie, Barbie shook her head. “I am sorry. That was rude of me.”

  “Hey, no worries.” Hallie grinned again. “Thanks for sticking up for me.”

  “Well, there’s sticking up, and then there’s forgetting that the some of the older generation aren’t used to certain parts of the anatomy being mentioned in public.” Barbie handed Hallie the money. “Man, my tongue sometimes runs away with me.”

  “Know the feeling.” Hallie gave her change. “I was brought up to respect my elders, and I sometimes say things before I think.”

  “I hear you.”

  Hallie laughed.

  Taking hold of the trolley handle, Barbie started to walk away. “See you next time.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  By the time Barbie got home, Fred and Barney were sitting in the front window watching for her. Getting the bags of groceries inside meant locking them in the bedroom she was using so she could go in and out to the car, leaving the house door open.

  By the time she had everything inside and the car locked, the sun was setting. Normally she’d lock the security screen and leave the wooden door open, but tonight she had a case of the heebie-jeebies, she didn’t know why.

  The house was large, two story, and dated back to the nineteen twenties. The wood on the outside with the peeling paint needed sanding back and re-painting, something that was already in progress, only the workers had already left. They wouldn’t be back until Monday, having had a job booked for the next day since before she arrived. The veranda and partially enclosed section was dark, the windows had blistering paint on the frames, and the hallway was dimly lit by a weak bulb.

  That, she decided, staring at the dim hallway, she’d fix in the morning. No more spooky hallway. The shadows on the veranda that wrapped around the whole house had their own unique fear factor. One could almost fancy that a killer lurked in the shadows. Dead vines stuck out at weird angles while dead bushes pressed up against the posts.

  Tomorrow she was going to start pulling out the dead vines. It was time to get serious and start doing what she could do. She was alone this weekend without the comfort of workers being around but daylight pushed back the irrational fears. Even the fact that she could see the lights of the house next door through the trees wasn’t a comfort. Great Aunt Penny’s house stood on five acres, meaning that the neighbours weren’t just over the fence, they were barely within screaming distance unless they stood outside.

  Though noise did carry at night. Small comfort.

  She’d always had an overactive imagination. Refusing to look up at the blank windows of the second story, Barbie hurried inside, shutting and locking both the security screen and the wooden door behind her, and then, feeling silly, she checked through the house, turning on all the lights as she went.

  God knew what she’d do if she actually met a ghost in the shrouded, dark rooms. Furniture covered in old sheets, dust thick in the abandoned rooms, old-fashioned furniture and treasures of the antique variety.

  Trying to take her mind off ghosts, she decided it was getting close to the time when she needed to contact Patrick, her friend and antique dealer from the city, see if he was interested in checking out the household items. Some of it was old and might fetch a good price.

  Another job for the weekend - go through the rooms properly and record the contents.

  Decision made, she tuned off the lights and went down the stairs a whole lot faster than she’d gone up them. The second floor was bloody spooky.

  In fact, the whole house was spooky. Old fashioned, dark, still, as though waiting for the return of its ghostly inhabitants.

  “Shit, stop it!” Barbie let the cats out of the bedroom she used, glad to have their demanding meows to divert her attention.

  Relaxing, she smiled at them. She was a firm believer that if anything supernatural was in the house, the cats would know. While they weren’t worried, neither was she. Or so she assured herself.

  The kitchen was spotless, sparkling with the effort she’d put into cleaning away the dust and neglect. A vase of sunflowers picked from the neglected garden out the back sat in the middle of the table. The wooden cabinets shone, the floor was mopped clean.

  Making the ground floor inhabitable had been her main aim when she’d first arrived. One room had been cleaned and had her massage table and oils set up in it, she’d commandeered a bedroom and vacuumed and wiped e
verything over, replacing the linen with her own. Several bottles of her perfume sat on top of the dresser, along with a tube of lipstick and mascara, and a small tube of hand lotion. The bathroom across the hallway had been scrubbed to within an inch of going through the tiles and now sparkled and smelled like lemons, helped by the air freshener she’d set on the counter. The toilet was next to the laundry, and she’d scrubbed that, too. The washing machine was surprisingly modern and had just required a wipe over and rinse.

  The lounge was dark and depressing, and after a thorough dusting, wipe over with furniture polish, and a good vacuum, she’d finally hired a carpet cleaner and had the carpet in both the lounge and bedroom cleaned. At least then she could walk in bare feet upon it without cringing, and it got rid of the musty smell. The heavy curtains had been to the dry cleaners and looked marginally better, but the room was still a touch drab. She’d attempted to brighten it up with vases of flowers and some scented air fresheners. Several bright cushions on the old sofa and it was the best she could do. In the corner of the lounge was a small table upon which her laptop sat. Thank God for WiFi, though she was surprised that it was even available out in the back of beyond. She was equally glad that Great Aunt Penny had obviously liked television, because there was a large, surprisingly modern one. The radio/CD player in the kitchen gave good background noise when she felt the quietness pressing in on her and craved the sound of human voices. Plus rocking to music while working was a favourite past time.

  Flicking across the curtains, she shut out the dark of the night, glad to have her cats near. Their calmness was soothing.

  “As soon as this place is fixed, we’re going home,” she told them.

  It couldn’t be soon enough. If it wasn’t bad enough that Adam was in the town, she’d crossed him several times already, and the house was spooky, she’d also pissed off one of the local gossips.

  No doubt Mrs Hubble would be sure to inform Adam of what Barbie had said, adding another black mark to her name.

  As if she’d care. Adam Moor could take a running leap off a long pier.