by Lois Richer
She wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t meet his gaze. Worry snickered through Gabe. What had he done that was so awful? Was she going to rescind her offer about Daniel? Was she going to make him leave?
“Just say it, okay, Blair? You don’t want me around them. You want me to go.” Despair tugged at him, dark and overwhelming. He wouldn’t stay where he wasn’t wanted. He’d go. But just until he’d figured out something else. There had to be a way for him to be a part of this family. There just had to be.
Blair opened her mouth, but clamped it shut when her aunt breezed into the room clad in a frilly dress with big red polka dots and flounces that fluttered as she moved. It was something straight out of the good old days.
“Hello, darlings!” Willie picked out her favorite china mug with the sprigs of lavender painted on the sides. “I smelled freshly brewed coffee and, after our tête-à-tête yesterday, I knew it had to be yours, Gabe dear. No one else makes coffee as well as you. Thank you.” She bent to ruffle his hair, her fingers gentle as they brushed his neck and over his shoulder. “I do love it when you come over.”
Gabe squeezed her fingers and brushed a kiss against the powdered porcelain cheek she presented. “Thank you, Miss Rhodes. I appreciate the way you’ve accepted me into your home. I hope I’m not intruding. Mac told me you’re preparing for a play.”
“Darling, you’re our Blair’s almost-husband! And my almost-nephew. You belong here. As soon as I get that attic cleaned up, you can move in. Or were we moving out? That medicine gets things all muddled in my mind. I forget.” She leaned to hug him close, covering him in a cloud of lilac fragrance. “Oh, well. Yes, I’m doing a bit piece in Hamlet with our little theater group next month. I hope you’ll come.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” He watched her exit, then resumed his study of Blair. To his amazement, she had a frown on her face.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” she mumbled.
“Do what?” He was almost afraid to say it, afraid to hear her response.
“Get so friendly with them. Make them think you’re always going to be here, that they can count on you.” Her mouth clenched white, and her eyes flashed with anger.
Gabe’s jaw dropped.
“Oh, don’t act so surprised. You know what I mean. Letting them believe that everything’s going to be wonderful.”
“Isn’t it going to be?” He challenged her to deny it.
“No. Yes. I don’t know! You don’t know, either.” She ladled another two teaspoons into her already sweetened coffee. “You haven’t been here long enough to know, and I wish you wouldn’t keep up this pretense of loving the jolly backwoods. It’s a lie, and we all know how much you hate lies, Gabe.”
She was jealous of his bond with her family! Gabe breathed a sigh of relief. This at least he understood. If he had a family like this, he’d be jealous of somebody butting in, too. He followed her to the veranda.
“I’m not pretending or lying.” He waited till she was seated, then took the chair beside hers. “I do like it here. It’s so natural, so beautiful. Yesterday I saw deer. I didn’t know there were any still around.”
“The neighbors have a game farm.” Blair wasn’t slouched in her usual relaxed position. She crouched on the edge of her chair, like a cat ready to pounce. “And don’t change the subject. You know very well that this isn’t your usual setting. It’s hokey and so totally not your style.”
Gabe felt like a rabbit caught in her headlights. But for once the scrutiny didn’t bother him. Let her study him night and day. He didn’t mind. He wasn’t pretending a thing. He loved it here. He’d never felt so comfortable around anyone as he did with this family.
“What are you getting out of this, Gabe? A good laugh? A little payback? What?” Her eyes dared him to respond.
He couldn’t tell her the truth. He couldn’t explain that what he got here was unadulterated acceptance. Nobody thought it was the least bit strange when he sat in the barn and worked on his laptop for hours at a time.
Yesterday, nobody had called him a geek or raised their eyebrows when he forgot to get out of his car. He’d been so wrapped up in the idea for a new game that he’d scribbled as much as he could on paper. He remembered Mac brought him a sandwich and some chicken soup that he’d forgotten to eat. When it got dark, Willie came and tugged on his arm until she lovingly captured his attention.
“What makes you think I’m getting anything out of it, other than a chance to see my son every day?”
She sniffed. “As if you even notice him! I had to pry you away from that Fred thing to get you to kiss him good-night,” she grumbled. “I could feel you itching to get back to it when Mac coerced you into that game of rummy. The way you look today, I’m pretty sure you spent most of the night peering at it.”
“I did.” He admitted the truth freely. “I got an idea for a new game.” Gabe made himself shut down on that. What woman, newly engaged or otherwise, wanted to talk about computer gizmos? “But it’s nothing I can’t change. I just have to learn how to do it.” He hunkered down, relaxing, his chin on his hands, elbows on his knees. “I’m not trying to steal them, Blair. They’ll always love you best.”
“What?” She stared at him. “I’m not jealous, you idiot! I just don’t want them hurt.”
“Neither do I. Believe me, that’s the last thing I want. I think they’re very special.” He followed when she jumped up and scurried inside, pausing at the counter while she rinsed her cup. “I know you’re looking out for them, Blair. I remember those little envelopes you used to mail every other Friday. Special delivery, priority. They were to them, weren’t they? To help out? Even then you were taking care of them. Just like you always take care of everyone around you.”
“Oh, brother!” She lunged away from the counter, but Gabe moved and blocked her escape. She glared at him. “You make me sound like Mother Teresa or something. I’m not a saint, Gabe. I just don’t want to see them hurt. They’re my family.”
“I know.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, remembering the fire of her kisses from long ago. But this Blair was wary, more reserved. She stepped away from him.
“I have to go to work,” she said softly. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome.” Gabe watched the screen door wheeze closed. He saw her stop and listen to Daniel and Mac talking to Albert. Gabe walked outside, hoping to overhear their conversation. Maybe if he listened to them together, he’d get a better idea of what kids did with their fathers, what families talked about.
A wave of lilac assaulted his nostrils as a delicate hand ruffled his hair. Willie’s barely audible voice floated to him. “She’s very protective.”
Gabe jerked upright. He couldn’t remember when anyone had ruffled his hair. Not ever. Tears burned in his throat. Why? he asked himself. Why did that little touch mean so much?
“Blair’s made herself into our guardian. She talks a tough line, but inside she’s afraid.”
“Blair? Afraid? I don’t think so.” Gabe turned his head to stare at the willowy woman on teetering heels who seemed more like his almost forgotten mother every day.
Aunt Willie was adamant. “If you knew her better you’d see it. She’s always trying to make up for something, go the extra mile, ensure she’s done more than anyone would ever expect. She’s trying to atone for her sins.”
Gabe blinked. “Huh?”
“It’s true. She’s been like that since her parents died when she was four. I believe that deep down, Blair thinks that if she’d been better, more lovable, done more, said more, helped more, that her parents wouldn’t have died. Somewhere inside she still clings to those beliefs. So she stretches herself thin trying to make up for her mistakes. She doesn’t understand grace.”
“Grace?” Gabe felt like a recorder, repeating whatever he’d heard.
Willie waved him into a chair while she made herself comfortable in her willow rocker.
“Grace,” she asserted firmly. “It
means something that’s given freely, something you can’t earn or deserve. It’s like God’s grace to us. We’re sinners, all of us. We’ve done nothing to deserve His love. In fact, we should be punished. And yet God says, ‘It’s all right. I forgive you. I gave My son’s life—I don’t need yours. You’re forgiven, no strings attached.’ You see?”
Gabe nodded slowly. “I’ve heard about it, and I guess I understand it when it comes to God. But I don’t see why you think Blair’s stuck on it.”
“Because she doesn’t believe that she can just accept forgiveness.” Willie lifted her knitting from a bag nearby. Her needles clacked rhythmically. “She thinks she has to pay, that she’s too far for grace to reach.”
“But what could she possibly have done that gave her such an idea?” He closed his eyes and listened to the song-drenched breeze as birds flitted in and out of the valley. He felt the sun on his face, warming him, the wind caressing him. And he waited for Willie’s answer.
When it came, it drove every other thought out of his mind.
“Blair went against everything she believed in when she slept with you. She wanted to obey God’s commands and keep herself only for her husband, but she made a mistake. When she became pregnant and had to drop her studies to return home, she believed it was because she needed to pay for her sins.” Willie riveted him with her steady stare. “She’s trying to atone for a mistake that’s almost seven years old.”
Chapter Five
A month later Gabe sat on the Rhodes’s veranda again, but his thoughts were no clearer. He couldn’t get Willie’s words out of his mind, though he’d yet to face Blair with them.
The guilt gnawed at him. He’d done that to her. He’d made her abandon her beliefs, her principles. He’d been so desperate to hold onto her love, he’d rushed her, forced her into something she wasn’t ready for. He’d taken it all away, and then added insult to injury with that stupid prenup. The guilt was his, not hers. He wanted to tell her that, to atone for it, to wipe her slate clean no matter what it did to him.
And yet, he was afraid to show his emotion. Afraid that if he let her see how much he wanted to keep what he had, how much he treasured the security of sharing this family with her, told her how inconceivable he found it that he could come and go at will and still be welcomed back, she’d take it all away from him.
Their mistake was in the past. Wasn’t it better to leave it alone?
“Hey, Daddy, want to come fishing? Grandpa and me are going.” Daniel stood in front of him, his knobby knees sticking out under the shorts he’d reluctantly donned when the weather had turned unseasonably warm.
“Son, I’d just love to go fishing. But maybe later on, okay? If this weather holds.” Gabe swung the boy up and around, delighting in the squeals of laughter that resulted.
“You’ll get his lunch all over him if you keep that up.” Blair’s voice held a hint of warning, and Gabe instantly set Daniel down. “How’s the house?”
He turned to face her and sucked in a breath at her beauty. She wore no fancy clothes, no brand-name outfit. She had on a sleeveless white cotton blouse and a pair of denim shorts that left lots of golden brown leg bare to the sun. Her hair was caught up in a fluff of tumbling curls, bursting from two combs that followed the cap of her skull. Her bangs, long and wispy, curled with perspiration, and she swiped them off her forehead with a careless hand. The hand that wore his diamond.
“You’re frowning. Is the place that awful?” She winked at him. “Did the castle thing turn out to be a bad idea?”
Gabe’s heart relaxed as her chocolate eyes melted with laughter that spilled onto the lazy afternoon heat. For some reason, she’d refused all his entreaties to look at the progress he’d made. She’d sent Mac to check her hives and add more of the funny boxes she called supers. But she stayed away from his field. Gabe didn’t know why, but he had a hunch it had to do with trust.
“It’s not exactly a castle,” he told her. “Everything’s moving very well. You’d know if you came and looked at it yourself.” He dared her to refuse.
“Oh, I will, one of these days. Things are just so busy right now. And it has to be a castle if it’s home for a computer king.” She ignored his pleading look and turned to the house. “Gardens and flower beds wait for no man.”
“You know very well they’re both finished, for now.” Willie shoved the door open with one foot, balancing a tray that carried a frosty pitcher of lemonade and six glasses. “Do you good to get out and relax for a while.”
“No time like the present.” Gabe added his two bits to the conversation. Not that it would sway her. She ignored him when she could, when he’d let her get away with it.
“Mommy, could we please go see the castle? My daddy’s building it specially for us an’ I want to see it. Please?”
The voice wheedled and whined, begging so sadly that Gabe wondered how Blair could keep from yelling her agreement. No doubt she was a far better parent than he’d ever be.
“All right, we’ll all go. After I take a break and have some of Willie’s lemonade.” She tossed Gabe one stark, meaningful glance before moving across the veranda to lean on the balustrade. “You guys could have gone anytime, you know,” she said, watching her grandfather climb the stairs.
“We wouldn’t dream of looking at your future home without you present. Come on, Albert. Come and have a drink. Leave that contraption alone for a minute!”
Albert straightened slightly and pushed the gray strands out of his eyes before nudging his glasses up his nose. He looked like a tired old professor. “Oh. Yes. Of course.” He darted up the steps like a rabbit pursued, accepted his glass of lemonade and drained it in one gulp. “Delightful. Thank you. Must be going now.” He limped down the steps, favoring the leg Gabe knew he’d injured in the war.
“Albert?” Blair’s soft voice stopped him mid-step. “We’re going to take a look at Gabe’s castle. Wouldn’t you like to come and take the grand tour with us? We won’t be long. After all, you’ll all be living there one day, too.”
“Our castle,” Gabe muttered, but no one paid him any attention.
“Yes, of course. Lovely.” Albert scurried across the grass toward his work shed, mumbling to himself. Halfway there, he stopped, turned around, a frown on his face. “Castle?”
“We’ll come and get you when we’re ready to go.” Willie nodded when he stared at her for a minute. Then Albert gave a stiff little bow and resumed his stumbling gait to his workroom.
“What’s he working on now?” Blair turned to Gabe, her manner telling him that she didn’t want to ask but felt compelled to do so.
“A kind of dune buggy thing that’s used for retrieval.” Gabe accepted his glass with a smile at Willie and in return got an affectionate caress as her hand tenderly cupped his cheek.
“Surely that’s not new?” Pointedly, Blair took a seat several feet away from him.
“It is when it’s for use in the Arctic.” He felt a smug ping of satisfaction at the startled looks on their faces. “It has every chance of succeeding, too. The parts are specially insulated so that they don’t seize up when it’s cold.” He waited, and when no one spoke, looked directly at Blair. “Are you ready to go now?”
She set down her glass. Gabe reached out and pulled her from her chair. “I hope you like it.” He couldn’t help gazing into her lovely eyes. “If you don’t, just tell me. At this stage we can change almost anything.”
He could see the hesitation there, the words unspoken. “Almost anything,” he repeated quietly, reading the unspoken words. “I’m not leaving, Blair.”
A touch of sadness clung to him. This should be a happy time, a time they looked forward to. This, after all, would be their future home. Instead Blair’s eyes swirled with secret fears and her fingers clenched in worry. She still didn’t trust him. Not yet. But she would. Gabe was determined to prove himself.
He knew nothing about families, even less about unity and drawing together. But he could lear
n. If he just worked hard enough, he knew he could learn.
“It’s beautiful.” Willie spun around in the huge kitchen with its modern hearth. “Look at this, Blair. The breakfast nook is part of the turret. Those windows! My goodness, the morning sun will just light this place up.”
“I like the dungeon.” Daniel grinned at his father. “It makes me think of pirates and things.”
“It’s not really a dungeon, son.” Gabe mussed his hair just as Willie had done his own. “It’s a workroom. I’m going to be building some things down there.”
“Can I help?” Daniel’s big eyes pleaded for the chance.
“Of course. Albert’s going to help, too. We’ll call it the invention dungeon. How about that?”
Mac flopped onto a short ladder left behind by some workman. He thrust out one hand and grinned a huge, smirking grin. “I don’t know how you’ve done it, boy, but you’ve certainly done it. This place is shooting up faster than a geyser in Yellowstone.”
“Most of it was prebuilt to specs. It just needed a few alterations, then it was shipped in and assembled once the foundation was solid. I used those straw blocks for a lot of it. Good insulation in the winter and just as efficient in the summer.”
Daniel peered through the windows that overlooked the back yard. The rough terrain had been torn apart by huge earthmoving machines, which had left a cleared space. But the creek and many of the trees still stood firm and untouched.
“What’s that?” he demanded in a shrill voice, breaking through the conversation.
“Daniel, don’t yell. Ask politely.” Blair turned toward him. “I’ve been wondering that myself, Gabe. Why is that hole there?”
Gabe swallowed hard. “It’s going to be a pool.”
Willie clapped her hands in excitement. Mac whistled. Albert went out to take a closer look. But Blair stood there, her eyes dark and curious.
“I didn’t know you swam. I know you had your club and that you lifted weights or something. When we used to go to Santa Monica pier, you always insisted on staying on the beach.” Pink streaks shot across her face. “Of course, that was a long time ago.”
