“Gabriel?” Interrupted from tidying her cashbox counter, Nan fixed a worried gaze on him. “Are you all right?”
“Fine, I’m fine,” Gabe told her, but he couldn’t say it with any conviction.
Nan circled out from behind the partition and moved toward him. “Oh, dear, are you coming down sick? Geneva says there’s a nasty illness going around. Simon caught it and took to his bed for nearly a week. He’s all right now, but Geneva says he grew so congested that she had to send for Doc. Now, apparently, it’s sweeping through town like wildfire.”
Pushing up on her tiptoes, she reached to check Gabe’s forehead for fever. He caught her slender wrist before her fingers connected. He didn’t want her to feel how clammy his skin was. “I’m fine, Nan, only a little tired for some reason.”
“Tired? You look gray. Get yourself upstairs. I’ll hurry along as quickly as I can, and I’ll dose you with some of Mr. Redmond’s tonic. He swears by the stuff, so I always keep a bottle on hand.”
“I don’t need any tonic,” Gabe protested. “Maybe just a fresh cup of hot coffee to perk me up. I got chilled during my walk.”
She frowned up at him. “Well, silly you. That’s to be expected when you haven’t the good sense to wear a coat.”
“I can’t wear a coat when I’m walking fast for exercise. I get too hot.”
She gave that derisive little snort that he’d come to expect whenever she disagreed with him. “You didn’t get too hot today. Upstairs with you. I’ll build up both fires, and you’ll be toasty in no time.”
As Gabe climbed the stairs to the apartment, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever feel warm again.
• • •
While Nan fussed over him, Gabe’s mind circled the dilemma he found himself facing. If he did anything to alter the course of events that was destined to occur, he would be in trouble up to his eyebrows. But what if he found a way to change some things—only a few—without actually turning a hand to do anything himself? Once the idea took hold in his mind, it wouldn’t leave.
That evening, over another of Nan’s wonderful suppers—beef gravy and mashed potatoes with hot rolls slathered with butter, preserved corn, and green beans as sides—Gabe said casually, “I sure do see some sad things during my walks.”
Both Laney and Nan said, “You do?”
Careful, Gabe. Even though neither angel had made his presence known for quite some time, Gabe figured they had celestial spies keeping a close eye on him. “Oh, yeah. So sad that it makes me question the goodness of humanity sometimes. How can people turn a blind eye to obvious suffering? I just don’t understand it.”
Nan let go of her fork, making a loud clink against her plate. Her eyes filled with concern. She so seldom left her shop to mingle with others that she honestly didn’t know what was happening in the town she now called home. And Laney wasn’t allowed to go near the saloon, and had no reason to venture behind Lizzy’s Café on her way to and from school.
“Suffering?” Nan echoed. “What suffering?”
Gabe shook his head. “Never mind. Let’s enjoy our meal. I don’t want to upset you or Laney.” If he could herd them around to pressing him for the information he wished to impart, maybe the angels would give him a pass. “Some things are just meant to be, I suppose.”
“What things?” Nan glanced at Laney. “Is it too awful for young ears?”
Gabe forced a smile that he knew looked forced, because he honestly didn’t have a real smile in him tonight. “Oh, no, nothing like that.”
He resumed eating, counting off the seconds. Through his lowered lashes, he saw Nan retrieve her fork, but she put nothing in her mouth.
“Well, now that you’ve said something, you can’t leave it at that,” she complained. “What on earth is happening in our town that people are ignoring? Do tell, or my imagination shall bedevil me all night.”
“Mine, too!” Laney cried. “I shan’t turn a blind eye if I see suffering.”
Gabe prayed not. Now that he had his ladies waiting with bated breath for him to enlighten them, he couldn’t decide whom he wanted them to help first, the boy or the dog. Being human, the boy took priority; there wasn’t a question in Gabe’s mind about that. On the other hand, he wasn’t any too sure the dog could last much longer without food.
“I’ve seen two things that really disturb me,” he finally said. “And I’m unable to do anything in both cases.” He made a show of peppering his meat, deliberately taking his time. “There’s a half-grown pup under a lean-to out behind Lizzy’s. Aside from the fact that all he’s got for a bed is a tattered hunk of wet blanket, he’s slowly starving to death. I think he smells the food inside the café and hopes to get handouts, but apparently Lizzy and her customers who pass through the backyard aren’t possessed of generous hearts.”
“He’s starving?” Laney’s eyes bugged. “Truly?”
Gabe nodded. “He’d be a good-size dog if he had any meat on his bones. Longish yellow fur. It’s all matted right now, and his ribs poke out like Conestoga wagon hoops. He’s on his last legs, I’m afraid.”
Laney directed a yearning glance at Nan, to which Nan responded with, “No, little miss, you absolutely cannot bring the poor thing home. We’ve no place here for a dog. No fenced area out back. Animals must have access to the outdoors to tend to . . . Well, that goes without saying.” Nan sighed. “You’re at school all day, except on weekends, and I’m busy in the shop. There’s no one to take him out for walks.”
“Gabe could do it, Mama! He walks all afternoon.” Laney sent Gabe a pleading look. “Right, Gabe?”
Aware that he’d be gone soon, Gabe couldn’t bring himself to saddle Nan with a dog she honestly couldn’t care for. Thinking quickly, he said, “I’m not so sure that would work. The poor fellow is scared to death of me.” That was one of the biggest lies Gabe had ever told. Dogs always took right up with him, and he had no doubt that the starving mutt behind Lizzy’s would as well if Gabe offered so much as a kindly word of encouragement. “That’s why I haven’t taken him any food. He’s so scared of me, I doubt he’d touch it.”
Nan frowned. “Can’t you just”—forgetting her table manners, she swung her fork and tossed a bit of gravy onto the front of Laney’s pink dress—“throw the poor thing some food? We have plenty of stuff left over, so much that the icebox won’t hold all of it, and it’s always going bad on me. We could feed two dogs and a small child on a daily basis with what I throw out.”
Laney mopped at her dress. Nan was so upset about the dog that she hadn’t even noticed what she’d done. In that moment, Gabe realized how easily he could completely lose his heart to this woman. If she had a mean bone in her body, he’d never yet seen it.
“He won’t let me get that close.” Another lie, but Gabe, who normally avoided speaking untruths, had decided he wasn’t counting. “Even if I put all my muscle into it, the offering would wind up in the middle of Lizzy’s rear dooryard. Some customer would step in the muck, and then there’d be hell to pay for the dog. Lizzy would immediately put two and two together. She might even ask somebody to shoot it for her.”
“You are rather fearsome, Gabe.” Laney tossed her soiled napkin down beside her plate. “If I were a starving dog, I’d be a mite scared of you, too. But I bet—”
“Young ladies do not bet,” Nan interrupted.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Nan.” Gabe gave her a loaded look. “We bet all the time when we play poker. The sky won’t rain rocks upon the child’s head for saying such an innocent word.”
Nan made a fist over her heart, swept her eyes closed for a moment, and then said, “You are correct. I’m sorry for getting off topic. Old habits die hard.” She offered Laney an apologetic smile. “You may continue, dear heart. I’m sorry for interrupting you.”
Laney, still wide-eyed, revised her approach. “I will venture a guess that the dog won’t b
e afraid of me, and I could take food right into the lean-to without upsetting him at all.”
Nan nodded. “I think your guess is probably correct. Gabriel does have a—” She broke off and sent Gabe another penitent look. “Well, let me just say that you scared the sand out of me the first time we met.”
“It’s his black attire and those frightful guns that he wears,” Laney observed. “If he’d dress like a normal person, he wouldn’t look quite so intimidating. He’d just look interesting.”
“Laney!” Nan admonished. “It is extremely careless of Gabriel’s feelings to criticize his choice of clothing. He doesn’t dress abnormally.”
“He doesn’t dress like all the other men in town,” the child protested.
Gabe shot up a hand. “Ladies, ladies.” To Nan, he said, “My feelings are not in the least hurt by Laney’s observation. I dress for effect and deliberately try to look mean. I’m a fast draw, remember. Looking mean discourages upstarts who want to take me on. Usually,” he added, remembering Pete Raintree. Then, to Laney, he said, “I’m glad to hear that I look intimidating. That’s my aim. So can we return to discussing a solution for the poor dog?”
“I can get close enough to feed him,” Laney pronounced. “I’m certain I can. I’m only a girl. Nobody, not even a possibly mistreated dog, is afraid of a girl.”
She struck fear into Gabe’s heart every time he looked at her, only not in the way she meant. Pretty soon boys would be lining up at Nan’s door to see Laney. Gabe wouldn’t be around to oversee the situation or step in to teach the unruly young pups proper calling manners.
“It’s settled then.” Nan studied her uneaten meal with a forlorn expression. “I’ve lost my appetite, thinking about the poor thing. He can have what’s left of my supper.”
“Mine, too,” Laney seconded.
Gabe’s usual hunger for Nan’s cooking had vanished that afternoon when he’d seen the little girl. “Mine goes into the pot, for sure. I won’t die sometime during the night if I don’t get something to eat. The poor mutt might.” Before his ladies could leap into action, Gabe forestalled them with, “But the dog is only part of the problem.”
Nan, caught in midmotion as she rose from her chair, sank back onto her seat. “Oh, no! Is there another homeless animal that’s starving?”
“Not an animal,” Gabe replied. “It’s a cold, hungry boy, about Laney’s age, maybe a little older. He huddles under the—” Catching himself just in time, Gabe refrained from using the word brothel in front of Laney. “Just this side of the saloon, there’s a staircase open to the street. He hides in the far left corner, where the shadows help to conceal him. His mother took off with some cowpoke, promising to return. I have no idea what happened to her, but I don’t believe she’ll come back.” Gabe held up a staying finger. “I know you, Nan. You’ll want to gather him up and bring him home. But this boy has led a hard life. What he really needs is to be taken in by a family—a family with at least a couple of other children and an experienced father to ride herd on him. This boy may be given to violent acts. He may be a thief. His language may be even rougher than mine.”
“Well, we can’t just leave him under that staircase!” Nan cried. “And if he’s hungry, why on earth haven’t you been taking him food, Gabriel? We’ve plenty to share.”
Once again, Gabe had no choice but to lie. “The boy is afraid of me, too, just like the dog. If I went under that staircase, he’d probably drench his drawers.” The kid had been extremely wary of Gabe, but not quite that wary. “And you can’t just throw food at a child as if he’s an animal. That would be horrible.”
“I can hide my cashbox so we can bring him here until—”
“No,” Gabe said softly.
He sincerely did have concerns about the kid’s character, and he could not, in good conscience, put Nan or Laney at risk. As long as Gabe was present, he could deal with the boy, but the clock kept moving forward. If Nan took the child in until more permanent arrangements could be made, Gabe might die before it happened, leaving Nan and Laney alone with a possible miscreant. There was also the inescapable fact that someone up there had to be watching, and Gabe would pay dearly if he encouraged Nan to be the one who took the kid in.
“I think what you should do is see to the boy’s immediate needs—food to fill his belly and blankets to keep him warm. Then, Nan, when you can steal time away from the shop, perhaps you can whisper in the preacher’s ear, making him aware of the child’s plight. The preacher knows all the good families in town, and he is the perfect person to place the boy in a proper home.”
Nan expression went bewildered. “Why haven’t you whispered in the preacher’s ear yourself? You’ve met him twice now on Sunday.”
“Did you notice the way he looks at me?” Gabe challenged. In truth, the minister had been friendly enough and seemed to practice what he preached, accepting even a gunslinger into his church. “He’s wary of me, too. I’m definitely not the best person to speak with him.” Gabe could only hope that Michael and Gabriel were presently preoccupied with other concerns, possibly an old lady whose idea of heaven meant that it had to be brimming with cats. Otherwise, he was going to get caught. “You understand, I hope?”
“I didn’t notice him looking oddly at you, Gabriel, and I know for a fact that he’s a very caring man, but if you say he feels nervous of you, I can only take your word for it.”
Gabe settled back in his chair, hugely relieved. Both the boy and dog would be saved, yet Gabe would be able to look the angels dead in the eye and honestly say he hadn’t lifted a finger to help either one. He’d done some exaggerating—and tossed in a couple of whoppers—but he figured he could get away with that.
The little girl with a weak heart still presented a huge problem, and Gabe had no ideas up his sleeve yet as to how he might prevent her death without actually doing anything himself. But he’d think on it.
Nan pushed up from her chair. “We’ve work to do, little miss. We can clean our garbage pail and toss some food into it for the dog, but feeding the boy will take a bit more preparation.” Moving toward the sink, Nan glanced from the window glass toward Gabe. “It’s dark out. Isn’t that staircase right beside the saloon and in front of . . . uh—” She broke off and lifted her brows at him. “I’m not sure it’s safe for two females to go there at this time of night unescorted.”
Gabe didn’t want Laney or Nan going near the place alone even in broad daylight. They could encounter a drunk at almost any time of day. Most women in town crossed the street and walked on the other boardwalk while passing the brothel and drinking establishment. Maybe that was part of the reason the kid had received no help, because no one had seen him. Yeah, right. The boy left his hidey-hole to forage for food, and unless people were blind, they had seen him. The reason the good ladies of this town ignored the kid was because he was the child of a whore, and going near him might soil their fancy skirts. Or force them to face the unpleasant fact that an “unfortunate” had a booming business going upstairs. Were their husbands contributors to her income?
“I suggest that all three of us go,” Gabe said. “At the staircase, Nan, Laney and I will stand well back so I don’t scare the boy, but I’ll still be close enough to step in if anyone bothers you. As for the dog, you and I can hold back while Laney goes inside the lean-to with food. Again, I’ll be there if needed, but not close enough to alarm the poor mutt.”
Nan nodded. “That sounds like a champion plan to me.”
“If I were a hungry boy under a staircase, I’d want sandwiches,” Laney announced. “They’re easy to eat. No plate or flatware to bother with.”
“Good idea, sweetness. Sandwiches it shall be. How many do you think he can eat, Gabriel?”
Gabe bit back a smile, wondering why it had taken him so long to come up with this idea. “Three should do it. If they’re wrapped in paper or a towel, he can eat all he likes and sa
ve the rest for later. In the morning, I’m sure he’d welcome a couple of bacon-and-egg sandwiches, especially if you could get them to him warm.”
“He’ll need something to drink,” Laney observed.
“Milk,” Nan inserted. “We’ve a quart bottle with a cork that I can fill with a funnel.” She glanced over her shoulder at Gabe. “While we prepare the food, can you get some quilts? You’ll find them on the high right shelf of my workroom at the end of the hall. There’s a worn one I’ve been thinking about tossing. We can use that one as a bed for the dog. The boy should have nicer ones. If they get stained, so be it. I can always make new ones if and when my stacks run low.”
Twenty minutes later, Gabe walked with his ladies, who were bundled up against the cold, to watch while the boy received food and bedding. I’m not lifting a hand, he assured himself, hoping one of the angels was listening. Then he quickly scratched that wish. He’d be better off if Gabriel and Michael were perching cats on clouds and their spies were watching someone else. He wasn’t physically doing anything himself, but he’d sure connived to set things in motion.
Standing back with Laney, Gabe couldn’t clearly see how the boy reacted to Nan, but when she emerged from under the stairwell and reached him, he saw that she was smiling tremulously and had tears in her eyes. For the second time in the space of an evening, Gabe realized how easily he could fall head over boot heels in love with her.
“He’s got plenty of quilts now to keep him warm and comfortable,” she said brightly. “And he’s gobbling sandwiches so fast I’m afraid he’ll make himself sick.”
“Was he scared of you?” Laney asked, saving Gabe the trouble.
“After exhibiting an initial bit of fright, he quickly got over it,” Nan answered. “I think the food distracted him from worrying overmuch about the delivery person’s possible intent.”
Walking on Air Page 22
