a hundred thousand dollars. Your father said it wasn’t a lot, but he wanted them to have something later in their lives. He doesn’t want them to know about his gift, though, not until they’re grown up.” She smiled, and it seemed to Gabriel that her expression was sad. “They won’t even remember him, then.”
He had no idea what the hell to say to this woman. He was suspicious. He was dumbstruck. Perhaps he was even a little envious that she’d gained some type of affection in his father’s heart, when he and his brothers had struggled for years and had received none.
She picked up Penny. “I just thought you should know.”
He watched as she turned, heading for the front door. Over her mother’s shoulder, Penny watched him with wistful eyes. What had been the relationship between Pop and Laura that such an astonishing gift would be given to her kids?
He could remember a cold, wet night in Poland, hunched behind a snowbank, listening to a radio he’d held with frozen fingers to pick up conversation in a bedroom in Gdańsk. He’d retrieved the information he’d needed, turned it in and got cleared to return home. Chilled, he’d called his father, thinking maybe his soul could use a good thawing and their relationship a delayed shot of warmth. He was young, idealistic, mostly broke, lonely. Damned cold in every area of his life.
He needed a bus ticket from the base, he’d told his father. The military would get him stateside, but he only had a few zloty in his pocket.
Pop had told him not to come crying to him for money. He said the greatest gift he could ever give him was the knowledge of how to stand on his own two feet.
That was ten years ago, and he could still hear the sound of the receiver slamming in his ear. He followed behind Laura, catching up to open the front door for her. “You must have meant a lot to my father.”
She turned, slowly, her gaze meeting his, questioning. In a split second, she got the gist of his unspoken assumption. “Your reputation preceded you,” she said softly. “You really are a jackass.”
The door slammed behind her. Gabriel nodded to himself, silently agreeing with her assessment. Then he went to shoo his well-meaning friends out of the house he didn’t want.
Chapter Two
Laura returned to her house, steaming. She put Penny down on the sofa and went to find Mimi, whom she could hear quietly singing to Perrin in the back of the house. “Thank you for watching my little man, Mimi.” She looked down into the crib at her baby, and all the tension flowed from her.
Together they walked from the nursery. “So what did you think of Gabriel Morgan?” Mimi asked.
“Not much. He thinks I sucked up to his father to weasel money out of him.” Laura shrugged her shoulders. “He’s everything Mr. Morgan said he was. Cocky, brash, annoying.”
Mimi laughed. “Not a man’s best qualities. Wasn’t he nice at all? He just seemed sort of shy to me.”
Laura went to fix them both an iced tea. “I suppose I compare every man to my husband.” Her gaze was reluctantly drawn to the framed, fingerprint-covered photo of Dave. Penny liked to look at the picture of her father, enjoyed hearing stories about him.
Dave had been such a kind man. Warm. Funny. Easy to talk to. Nothing like the man she’d met today. Laura wrinkled her nose and tried not to think so tears wouldn’t spring into her eyes. Heaven only knew Dave had his moments; he was no angel. They’d had their spats. But he’d been her first love and that counted for so much. It had been such a shock to lose him.
At least she had his children.
“I suppose it would be hard for me not to compare every man to Mason.” Mimi smiled. “No one would measure up.”
Laura nodded, appreciating her friend’s understanding.
“Some would say there never was a tougher nut to crack than Mason Jefferson.”
“Really?” Laura found that hard to believe. Mason loved his wife, loved his kids. Was always looking at Mimi, or holding her hand.
“Suffice it to say he was really difficult to get to the altar. Sometimes I even wondered why I wanted him there.” Mimi laughed. “Talk about stubborn and hard to get along with.”
“Dave was easy,” Laura murmured. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not looking to replace Dave in my life at all. But I was hoping for a connection with Gabriel, something like the one I’d had with his father. I miss the old gentleman.” She smiled sadly at Mimi. “I can’t understand why his boys don’t want to be close with him.”
“Mr. Morgan was a different person with us than he was with his sons. They say people show themselves differently to everyone, and we probably saw his best side. He was a good man.”
“Obviously his sons believe they understand him better, and they probably do.” She and Mimi moved to the kitchen table. Penny came into the kitchen and crawled into her mother’s lap. Laura handed her a vanilla wafer from a box left out on the table since yesterday. “I swear I do keep house. We don’t always have food left out from the day before.” She glanced at the sink where the pots were piled up from making the welcome meal for Gabriel.
“Try living in a house where grown men come and go all the time. They make a bigger mess than the kids.” Mimi sipped her tea. “I’ll help you clean it up in a bit.”
Laura shook her head, appreciating the offer but not wanting the help. She didn’t mind washing dishes. It was soothing to have her hands in warm dishwater, and somehow comforting to submerge dirty dishes in suds and then pull them gleaming from the water. “I didn’t want him to misunderstand my relationship with his father.”
Mimi nodded. “Men don’t always temper their thoughts before they speak. Anyway, nobody tells Josiah Morgan what to do. Gabriel knows that.”
Gabriel, too, struck Laura as the kind of man willing to fight any battle life threw at him.
“Besides, it’s really none of Gabriel’s business.”
That was also true. She’d only told him about his father’s gift to her children because she wanted him to know up front. “Okay, I give up on being mad. It’s a waste of time.”
Mimi got up from the table. “Let’s wash these dishes.”
“No, you go on home to your family. You’ve done enough for me, Mimi. I really appreciate you watching Perrin so he could nap.”
“Did the doctor say how long it would take for the medicine to do some good?”
Perrin had colic, long bouts at night that worried Laura. Someone had suggested that the colic was stress-induced, and that Perrin was sensing his mother’s sadness. It had been a shock when Dave had died, and she certainly had grieved—was still grieving—but it was an additional guilt that she was causing her son’s pain. “The doctor said babies sometimes go through colic. The medicine might help, and putting him on a different formula. Or he could grow out of it.”
Mimi patted her hand. “I’ll come by to see you later at the school.”
Laura nodded. “I’d like that.”
She
