Someone To Watch Over Me (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Fox, Roz Denny

  “I’m only interested in cases the state won. Reading the transcripts, I may come across necessary information this prosecutor hasn’t asked me to provide.”

  “You don’t think he’s competent?”

  “He’s swamped.” She linked her hands tight as they walked slowly toward her parents’ house. “Trini says he doesn’t care about my case. I wouldn’t go that far, but any way I can help him is better for me.”

  Gabe considered her request. Could reading cases help? Or would they cause her flashbacks? That was definitely a concern. However, he wasn’t stupid enough to let an opportunity to spend more time with her get away from him. “Tell you what. I won’t have you killing yourself adding house-cleaning to your job. If Larkin Crosley okays our doing research at his office, I’ll help you in exchange for you advising me on the furniture I need to buy. I’ve decided to continue leasing my condo to skiers, so I can’t take any of my furniture.” He grinned. “Is it a deal?”

  “Deal.” She had reached the first step leading up to the house, turned and poked her hand out through Gabe’s jacket. When their hands met, Isabella experienced an odd thrill. She pulled back fast, not wanting to believe it might be more than excitement over finally getting to study other cases like her own. She even shrugged off his jacket and hurriedly returned it to him.

  “I told your dad I’d need my afternoons free to take care of loose ends involved with the move. I’ll try to connect with Larkin sometime today. How about meeting me in Callanton at the Green Willow around six? We’ll grab a bite to eat and work out a schedule I can take back for his approval.”

  Isabella’s mind ground to a halt at the part about meeting him for dinner. “Why dinner?” she blurted. “Can’t you swing past the bakery with his answer?”

  Gabe recognized the panic behind her reluctance to eat with him. “Eating’s part of the deal, Isabella. I can’t run on empty the way you apparently do.”

  “Oh. Is that why you’re following me into the house? For breakfast?”

  “I’m meeting the guys here.”

  “They’ve been out with the sheep for an hour. Mama and Trini are the only ones still inside.”

  “Holy cow! I thought I got here early.” Gabe immediately clattered back down the stairs.

  “Don’t let Joe and Angel call you a slacker. And don’t tell them I kept you up last night. They probably got to sleep at least an hour before you did. I hope you zonked out the minute Rick and I left.”

  “Are you kidding? I couldn’t find the bed for all the junk John Campos left stacked around. I ended up staying at the Inn last night.”

  “Gabe, you didn’t! We have extra beds. Why on earth didn’t you say something?”

  “To be honest, I thought it was a matter of shoving a few boxes aside. Frankly, all the mattresses in that house are disgusting. Hauling them to the dump is another item on my day’s agenda.”

  “I should’ve guessed, based on the condition of the rest of the house. Ruby, Sylvia and I thought we shouldn’t poke around your bedrooms without your okay. I’m doubly sorry now for keeping you up—all because I was annoyed with Rick. We can put off contacting Mr. Crosley for a few days.”

  Gabe heard her disappointment. “It only takes a minute to make a phone call, or drop in and see if he’s amenable. But I repeat—skipping dinner is not an option.”

  “Six o’clock, you said?”

  “Yes, at the Green Willow.” Clutching the lunch sack between his teeth, Gabe waved her inside while he shrugged into his jacket. He didn’t give her time to reconsider and refuse, but literally ran out to the sheep pens.

  Isabella turned away, commanding the flutters in her stomach to cease and desist. She reached for the doorknob, but the door flew open, almost knocking her off the top step.

  Trini craned her neck, trying to see around her sister. “Did I hear you talking to Gabe? Why didn’t you invite him in for coffee? And what are you doing outside without a coat? Mama said that according to the thermometer by the kitchen window, it’s barely twenty degrees this morning.”

  Isabella brushed by her. “Mama and I were upstairs making beds. She saw Gabe coming across the road and asked me to run out and give him his lunch. So I did. And you’re right. It’s chilly. Come in and close the door.”

  “What did he say? Did he ask about me? I mean, did he ask why I hadn’t helped Ruby and Sylvia clean his house?”

  “Why would he?”

  “Because I asked Ruby to recommend me for the job. Gabe said he’s going to hire someone to clean a couple of days a week. Since Papa cut back on my spending money, I need to find a way to earn some more.”

  “I offered you extra hours at the bakery.”

  “You didn’t tell Gabe that, did you? If you did, you probably ruined my chances,” Trini wailed. “Darn it, Bella! He’s the best-looking guy to show up around here in I don’t know how long. Everyone except you is drooling over him. After my advanced accounting class, a group of us stopped for a beer at White’s. Megan Ward bragged to everyone that Gabe likes her. She got positively snotty when I said he’d moved in across the road from us and is apprenticing under Papa. If I cleaned his house, I’d have the inside track. And Megan would be livid.”

  Isabella knew Megan Ward by sight only. She was nearer Trini’s age. Megan was, however, a waitress at the Green Willow Café. And Isabella had already agreed to meet Gabe there at six tonight.

  “Well, aren’t you going to say anything, Bella?” Trini followed her into the kitchen. “You have that look. You did screw it up for me, didn’t you?”

  Luisa Navarro turned from where she was slicing cabbage at the sink. “Goodness, what are you girls fighting about? Bella, did you catch Gabe and give him his lunch?”

  “Yes, Mama. Will you tell Sylvia and Ruby they’ll have to finish his house without me? I’ll be, uh…working late tonight. Oh, and tell them Gabe mentioned he’ll be replacing all the mattresses. So there’s no need for them to waste time airing out the ones John left.”

  Trini inserted herself in front of her older sister. “You went to Gabe’s with Ruby and Syl?” Her jaw dropped. “You’re awfully well informed about our neighbor’s future plans for someone who merely took him his lunch.”

  “Oh, good grief! Ruby had errands to run. And I went over because things were dead at the bakery, so I closed early.”

  “Things were dead yesterday, yet you’re working late tonight?” Trini crossed her arms and tapped her toe in irritation.

  Isabella was tired of this sparring. She deliberately skirted Trini. Over her shoulder, she flung out casually, “I’m meeting Gabe in town tonight.”

  “Ma…ma, I want a chance with Gabe and Bella—”

  Luisa’s head whipped from one daughter to the other. “For heaven’s sake, Trini, you’re acting like a girl in junior high school.” Gentling her voice, she interrupted Isabella’s exit. “Bella, I sense this man has developed some kind of an interest in you. It’s not like you to lead anyone on. Nor is it your nature to deliberately hurt your sister. Ricardo is quite sure you’re playing with fire. Should I be worried?”

  Isabella gripped the stair railing. She still had her back to Trini and her mother, since she’d started upstairs to her room. She wanted to deny that there was any type of personal relationship between her and Gabe Poston. She tried, but couldn’t squeeze the words past a stricture in her throat. “No, Mama, you shouldn’t worry.”

  Once she’d forced out those words, Isabella found it easier to face her mother and sister. “I don’t know if Trini told you, but Gabe’s an attorney. I haven’t made any secret of the fact that I’d like to get my hands on transcripts from cases like Julian’s. Gabe has access to a law library. He’s going to see if he can get me in to read old transcripts.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?” Trini said, walking to the foot of the stairs. “Don’t I feel foolish now? But you made it sound so…so clandestine.”

  “Did I? Or is that your immaturity showing, Trini?
I said before and I’ll say it again. Gabe is too old for you.”

  “Christina’s six years younger than Manny. Plus, she’s three years younger than me. No one jumped all over him when he asked Christina to marry him.”

  Luisa calmly went back to chopping her cabbage. “I rarely take the side of one of my children over another,” she said in Euskera. “But Bella’s absolutely correct this time, Trinidad Lucinda. There’s at least twice the difference between you and Gabe as there is between Manuel and Christina.”

  “Twice?” Trini yelped. “No way. That would make him almost as old as Ricardo.”

  Luisa and Isabella both paused, each of them slowly arching an eyebrow.

  “Get outta here,” Trini scoffed. “Before I go to class today, I’m walking right out to the sheep pens and I’m going to ask how old he is.”

  Doubting her sister had the nerve, Isabella ran lightly upstairs, where she gathered her jacket and purse before heading off to the bakery. As she passed the bathroom, she took a last peek at her pale face in the mirror. Grimacing at the strained image that appeared before her, she pledged to take steps to get closer to her old self.

  What that entailed she wasn’t quite sure. Step one was probably to eat more. So it was just as well that Gabe had badgered her into meeting him for a meal.

  THAT AFTERNOON, Trini breezed into the bakery half an hour late. Isabella didn’t even realize she was late until she happened to glance up at the clock. So much for her vow to eat more regularly. She’d just worked through lunch again.

  Tossing her backpack on a chair in the corner of the kitchen, Trini swiped a finger around the cake bowl Isabella was trying to pour from.

  “Stop that.” Isabella smacked her sister’s fingers with the flat side of a rubber scraper. “Did you even wash after you handled all those textbooks?”

  “Nag, nag, nag. You aren’t my amachu,” she said.

  Isabella’s eyes lost all trace of light. She’d relished her role as mother to Antonia and Ramon. And she’d been good at it.

  Trini knew at once she’d committed a grievous error. “God, Bella. I didn’t mean to remind you.” She snatched the heavy crockery bowl out of her sister’s shaking hands, and finished pouring the cake batter into the four tins. “I’m miffed because you and Mama were right this morning and I was wrong.”

  “Wh-a-at?” Isabella shook away lingering thoughts of her children.

  “About Gabe Poston being too old for me. You and Mama came closer to the mark than I did. He’s thirty-eight. Thirteen years older than me. Ugh.”

  “You actually went out and asked him his age? Trini, for heaven’s sake! That’s rude.”

  “Relax. He and Papa had gone out to test the various pastures for sweet grass. Joe’s the one who told me. He said he asked Gabe the same thing. So why is it rude for me but not for Joe?”

  “It’s equally rude of Joe. Surely you aspire to better manners than our brothers.”

  “You’re right. They can be gross. They’d lick this bowl clean.” Trini grinned as Isabella grabbed the bowl out of her hand and stuck it under a stream of water.

  “Kidding aside,” Trini said, watching Isabella check the heat in the oven before she popped in the four tins. “The guy’s five years older than you, Bella. I don’t understand how he can still look so hot.”

  The oven door slipped out of Isabella’s hand and slammed, making both women wince. “I guess that reveals your opinion of me.”

  “I can’t even open my mouth but I stick my foot in it,” Trini complained. She threw up her hands, then spontaneously hugged her sister. “You had good reason to age in the last ten months. Get Julian’s trial behind you, and then we’ll worry about finding you new makeup and stuff.”

  Isabella patted Trini awkwardly. It was still far from a compliment, and yet she knew the statement carried more than a grain of truth. In the months since she’d innocently walked in on a worse tragedy than she could ever have comprehended, she hadn’t given a damn about her appearance. Until now. Today, Trini’s careless remarks grated on her like nails screeching across a chalkboard.

  Isabella tried not to think about her business meeting with Gabe Poston as anything other than that. Business. How she looked was irrelevant, she told herself staunchly.

  Fortunately, she was quickly distracted from any thoughts of Gabe when Trini changed the subject with lightning speed.

  “Elena Sancho’s papa bought her a new car,” she said. “A blue Camaro with wire rims. Can you believe she’s mad because it’s not a convertible? Oh, and Orella Valdez broke up with Fernando. Again! For good, she says, like we don’t all know there isn’t anyone else who’d put up with all the crap she throws at him.”

  Customers came in and Trini went out to help them. Ten minutes later, she returned and picked up where she’d left off. “Fernando always cries on my shoulder. I don’t know why, when I never sympathize. We all know he’s too good for Orella. Guess what? I saw Ramona hanging with a really cute guy this week.” Their cousin Ramona was a year younger than Trini. “No way is he Basque. If Aunt Carmen gets wind of it, she’ll shit a brick.”

  “Trini!”

  “Well, she will and you know it. Aunt Carmen is such a cultural snob.”

  Isabella closed her eyes momentarily, feeling the niggle of a beginning headache. “The sun’s out again. Why don’t you make today’s bank deposit, and then deliver Soledad Capel’s cake? Whatever you do, while you’re at the Capels’, don’t mention seeing Ramona with that guy.”

  Trini smirked. “Bella, Bella. Always the family peacemaker. Okay, I’ll be good. But I must admit it’s tempting. That day Gabe rode with you to the cemetery, Aunt Carmen was on the phone to Mama before we even knew who he was. She’s such a busybody. Papa’s always so fair about things. It’s hard to believe they had the same parents.”

  “Aunt Carmen’s not alone in her thinking. And we don’t really know how fair Papa would be if one of his children decided to marry a non-Basque. So far, his beliefs have never been put to the test.”

  “Hmm. Do you suppose he’d spring for a trip to Bilbao or San Sebastian for me? We haven’t seen a new Basque family here in five years. I’ll never marry anyone from our village.”

  “You could become a nun,” Isabella said with a remarkably straight face.

  “Yeah, right. Just for that, I’m going straight home when I finish deliveries. I’ll see you at supper. And I’ll never speak to you again if you so much as hint that horrible idea to Papa.”

  “I’m not coming home for supper,” Isabella called as Trini slammed into the office to tally the day’s receipts. “Remind Mama that I’m staying in town to meet Gabe.”

  “Hmm. There’s a thought. Maybe you’ll be the first to marry outside the clan.”

  Isabella threw a pot holder at her sister. “I said it’s not that kind of meeting.”

  “Really, Bella? Be honest. Don’t you ever want to get married again? I can’t believe you want to spend the rest of your life alone.”

  She was right; it was a prospect that didn’t hold any appeal for Isabella. Neither did the possibility of repeating a marriage like the one she’d suffered through with Julian. “Huh, with six brothers and sisters and all their families showing up at the house on a daily basis, you and I have a different concept of living alone.”

  “You know what I mean. What about sex? Can you live a celibate life forever?”

  Isabella took several minutes to answer. And when she finally did, her words were stiff, unemotional. “I can barely remember back to a time when Julian didn’t use sex as a method of punishment. Only the first year of our marriage was anywhere near normal. But then we had the children. They were my only bright spot.”

  Trini looked stricken. “Bella! None of us even suspected.”

  “I’ve never told anyone that. Promise me you’ll keep it to yourself.”

  “I won’t breathe a word.” Subdued, Trini bent to the task of logging in receipts, and Isabella withdrew to th
e kitchen where she pulled the cakes out of the oven and set them to cool.

  A short time later, she heard the back door open and close, and the delivery van start up. She almost wished she hadn’t sent Trini off for the remainder of the afternoon. Not after her sister had stoked fires better left to die along with her failed marriage.

  Isabella smoothed the creamy frosting between the cooled cake layers. It was a simple task that allowed her mind to drift. To the act of sex. To memories of the few times her body had reacted in a warm and positive way. To thoughts of Gabe Poston’s gentle hands, which were at odds with his wicked smile.

  Right in the middle of her lonely kitchen, Isabella’s body grew warm. She was struck by yearnings of what might have been. Yearnings for a man other than the one with whom she’d spoken vows.

  The spatula slipped from her weak fingers, fell and spattered pale-yellow frosting across the tile floor.

  The familiar motions of cleaning it up and finding a clean spatula diverted her attention. Thankfully, she’d no sooner finished decorating the cake that had been commissioned for a local rancher’s upcoming birthday than the bell over her front door jingled. A mother and daughter Isabella didn’t recognize wanted to discuss catering a wedding scheduled for early fall.

  “September tenth, you said?” Isabella flipped the pages in her weekly planner. “The day looks clear. Are you planning a church reception, or one in your home?”

  “I haven’t decided,” announced the eager, fresh-faced girl. “Could I hold the date with a deposit for now?”

  “Certainly. Depending on the size of your party, you’ve allowed plenty of time to fine-tune decorations, choose a menu and decide on all the trimmings that’ll make your day special.” Isabella mentioned a nominal deposit fee. “Just fill out this form with your name and address. The reception will be held locally, won’t it?” She noticed a Portland address on the woman’s check.

  “My fiancé’s found a house on the outskirts of Callanton. He’s determined to buy it. Mother and I drove up to give it our okay. It’s beautiful. Fully furnished. I can’t believe the owner walked away and left it. Actually, the real estate agent didn’t give us much information.”