corn-silk softness comforted her, as did the powdery smell of Perrin. “No,” she murmured, easy with the lie. “Gabriel is not my kind of man.”
They all fell quiet, silenced by the uncomfortable position they had put her in.
“She doesn’t need to tiptoe around Dave forever,” someone finally spoke up bravely. “Honey, we know you loved him, but you’re alive and he wouldn’t want you being sad forever.”
Tears jumped into Laura’s eyes. Several ladies came over to hug her. She felt Penny press closer to her leg. “I know.”
“All right, then.” They all patted her, then went back to their places. “So next time you get a chance to kiss a hunk like Gabriel Morgan, you just grin and bear it if you want to, okay?”
“Maybe,” Laura said, smiling as she wiped away the unwanted tears.
“Wish he’d buy out my booth,” someone said, and everyone laughed, even Laura, although she really didn’t think it was funny. What they didn’t realize is that Gabriel hadn’t wanted to kiss her, hadn’t even looked tempted. He’d sort of picked up his father’s responsibility—and then he’d headed off.
A woman knew when a man was interested in her. All fairy tales included a kiss—a man knew how to get what he wanted, even in books. Dave had been a gentle pursuer, slow and careful as if she were a fine porcelain doll.
Gabriel owned no such gentle genes. If he wanted a woman, she figured the indication of his desire would be swift, like a roiling wave breaking over a boat at sea, claiming it with powerful intent.
Gabriel pretty much turned to stone every time he laid eyes on her.
Dear Gabriel,
By now you are at the house and are beginning a year of time you no doubt resent like hell. But money talks and though it might not talk very loud to you, I know you’ll stick out the year just to prove yourself. This need of yours to be a tough guy living on the edge is exactly what I now need to lean on.
Remember when I bought that extra acreage and added on to my own hacienda out here? I bought it from a man who was down on his luck, and partly down on his luck thanks to me, which he has discovered. Now don’t go getting all high and mighty like I cheated this man out of his birthright, because the man is a scoundrel. And anyway, he needed the money.
The problem is, I bought the land suspecting there was an underground oil source. I had it surveyed without his knowledge. He has since found out I paid for a geological survey of his property and feels cheated.
Fact is, maybe he was and maybe he wasn’t. He could have paid for his own damn survey.
The trouble in this is that the man is Laura Adams’s father, with whom she has no contact due to the fact that he didn’t approve of her marrying a carpenter. Didn’t like her husband, felt he wasn’t good enough for his only child, which didn’t set well with Laura. He needed her to marry big to save his sorry ass.
You see my predicament. I could sell the man back his land but the price would include a terrific profit which he cannot afford. I gave Laura’s children a tiny portion of what is rightfully theirs, since it would have been anyhow, I suppose, though I believe her father would have drunk up the estate. You might say I just hijacked Penny’s and Perrin’s inheritance, robbing from the poor to give to the poorer.
Unfortunately, the jackanapes took to threatening me. He really feels cheated by life, and I suppose he has been, but the big dog runs off the little dog and that’s life, isn’t it? But for the grace of God go I.
Anyway, you’ll be seeing him as he lives to create trouble. But I have faith that you’ll smooth everything over in due time, as you were always the responsible one in the family, even though it really chaps your ass that I say that. It just happens to be true.
Pop
“IT DOES CHAP MY ASS.” Gabriel forced himself not to shred his father’s letter. “It does indeed chap me like you can’t even imagine, Pop.”
He did not appreciate being appointed the protector of the family fortunes, but even less so the knight of Laura Adams’s little brood. He couldn’t even make himself kiss her; how the hell was he going to start thinking of her as part and parcel of the Morgan family?
And yet, according to Pop, they owed her something.
What exactly that was, Gabriel wasn’t certain.
THE STORM THAT SWEPT Union Junction and the outlying countryside that night kept Gabriel inside and feeling caged. He paced the house, watching lightning crack through the windows of the two-story house. The TV had gone out; the phone lines were dead. He could hear water dripping frenzied and fast into the overgrown gardens.
There wasn’t a lot to do in a house one didn’t call home. So far he’d mainly confined himself to his room on the second floor, and the den. He passed through the kitchen occasionally to forage from the goodies the ladies had left for him. The house, he estimated, was around six thousand square feet. Eventually, he’d have to investigate the rest of Pop’s place.
Actually, there was no better time than the present, he decided. The sound of something not quite right caught his ear; instantly he listened intently, all the old survival skills surging into action. Someone was at the front door; someone with a key that wouldn’t fit easily. Gabriel considered flinging the door open and confronting whoever was out there, some idiot so dumb they didn’t know it was storming like hell outside, then relented. Let the water drown them. If they made it inside, then he’d deal with them.
He thought about Laura’s father’s threats against Pop and figured he couldn’t kill the man in cold blood. So he selected one of his father’s many travel guides he had in the den—the heaviest one, something about the South Seas—and waited behind the door.
It suddenly blew open with a gust of wind and rain and vituperative cursing. Gabriel raised the eight-hundred-page tourist guide high over his head, preparing to crack it over his visitor’s skull.
“Damn it, I hate Texas with a passion!” he heard, and lowered his arms.
“Dane?”
His brother swung to look at him. “What the hell are you hiding back there for? And with a book on the South Seas?”
“Preparing to coldcock you.” Gabriel closed the door.
“I’m supposed to be here.” Dane glared at him, his coat dripping water all over the floor.
“Your e-mail said you were coming in January.”
“And I’ve since changed my mind. You got a problem with that?” Dane asked as he threw his bags in a corner.
Gabriel sighed. “Calm down, Sam Houston. Food’s in the fridge.”
“Don’t call me that. I detest Texas.”
In the kitchen, Gabriel settled into a chair. “Are you starting your year of duty early?”
“Figured I might as well get it over with.” Dane stuck his head inside the refrigerator door, ending the conversation for the moment. “Fried chicken! Watermelon!”
Gabriel
