The Courage To Dream and The Power Of Love: The Courage To Dream / The Power Of Love. Margaret Daley
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“I’ve been watching you. I think I’ve got your technique down,” he said with a sparkle in his dark brown eyes.
She blushed at the idea that he had been watching what she’d been doing. The thought unnerved her more than she cared to think about.
“Eat while I finish up with this roast beef and banana-carrot combo.”
Rebecca delved into the chili, filling her bowl with the delicious-smelling food. She was starved and hadn’t realized it until she started eating. While she savored her meal, she watched Gabriel make a game of feeding her son. Josh smiled and cooed. Why couldn’t this have been Craig enjoying his child?
“You know, Peter,” Gabriel said while pretending to be a dive bomber coming in for a landing in Josh’s mouth, “I noticed how fast you were running into the house. Have you ever thought about being on a baseball team?”
“Nope. I have better things to do after school.”
“It does require a lot of time. It takes quite a commitment for a young man.”
The challenge in Gabriel’s voice dared Peter to accept. Her eldest straightened, his eyes becoming pinpoints. Peter didn’t say anything, but he studied the police chief as though he wasn’t quite sure what to make of the man.
At the end of the meal Gabriel wiped Josh’s mouth. “Rose, that’s the best food I’ve had in a long time. Thank you for inviting me to dinner.”
“You’re welcome.” Rose gripped her cane and struggled to her feet. “Josh, Peter and I are going to retire to the living room while you two clean up. Peter, will you carry him for me?”
“Sure, Granny.” Peter carefully picked up Josh and followed his great-grandmother out of the room. “It’s time for us to practice, Josh, my man.”
Rebecca started taking dishes to the sink. “You don’t have to help. I can take care of this mess if you need to leave.”
“No. I told Rose I would help, and I always follow through on what I say.” Gabriel brought several bowls and glasses to the counter.
While she rinsed the dishes, he put them into the dishwasher. They worked side by side in a silence that Rebecca didn’t find awkward. A sense of teamwork eased any tension she experienced from his nearness. She usually felt the need to fill the void in a conversation with chitchat, but for some reason she didn’t with Gabriel. Another surprise, she thought.
When she was through with the dishes, she noticed that it was dark outside the window over the sink. She reached to pull the shade down at the same time Gabriel turned toward her. Their arms grazed. Again that sense of warmth fanned from his touch. Startled by the brief contact, she flinched.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you,” he said with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes, lending an appealing attraction to his tanned features.
“No problem.” Rebecca yanked on the cord to lower the shade, then wrung out the washcloth to wipe the table and counters.
She felt Gabriel’s gaze on her while she worked. The thought of him watching her made her heart beat faster. The silence between them hummed with alarming undercurrents. Her battered emotions were too raw for anything but friendship between them, if even that.
“I’m just about through in here if you want to go into the living room and join the others,” she said, aware that her hands quivered.
He lounged against the counter, his stance casual, relaxed. “I’ll wait. Can I help with anything else?”
She shook her head while she hurried the cleaning, the nape of her neck tingling where she imagined him staring.
“May I ask you a question?”
She pivoted toward him, clasping the edge of the kitchen table she had been wiping. Her legs felt weak, as though the strength had suddenly been siphoned from them. “Shoot.” She laughed nervously. “Maybe I shouldn’t say that to a policeman.”
That warm smile of his touched his mouth again. “Josh doesn’t just have Down’s syndrome, he has something else wrong with him, doesn’t he?”
Her grip tightened until her knuckles turned white. “Yes. He has spina bifida. His spine isn’t developed. The doctors told me that he would never walk, talk or do anything.”
“I’m sorry. That has to be hard on you.”
Rebecca stared into his troubled gaze for a long moment, then shoved away from the table and draped the washcloth over the edge of the sink. “It’s harder on Josh,” she finally said as she headed for the living room.
She came to a stop in the doorway, aware that Gabriel was right behind her, looking over her shoulder. Peter clasped Josh under the arms and was helping him across the carpet. Tears returned to block her throat. Every night Peter practiced “walking” with Josh. Her oldest son was determined that Josh would one day play sports with him. That, according to the doctors, would never happen, and she didn’t have the heart to tell Peter.
Gabriel set his hands on her shoulders and leaned close to whisper, “You’re lucky to have such a nice family.”
The wistful tone in his voice made Rebecca ache for what he must have lost when his wife died. His words helped her focus on what was right with her life. “Yes, thank you for reminding me of that.”
When he dropped his hands, she immediately missed the warmth of his touch.
Through the fog of sleep, Rebecca heard the doorbell ringing. She dragged herself out of bed, slipped on her robe, then hurried to the front door. She peered out the peephole and saw Gabriel Stone. Why was he here at this hour? Then a thought struck her, and she quickly opened the door. Standing next to the police chief was Peter, for a second time in one day wearing a defiant expression on his face.
“Sorry to bother you at such a late hour, but I found your son running from a house that had just been egged.”
“Whose house?”
“Mine.”
“Peter Michaels, what do you have to say for yourself?”
Her son looked away, his frown deepening, his mouth pinched as though he wouldn’t say a word no matter what.
A chill swept her. Rebecca pulled her terry-cloth robe tighter about her and stepped to the side. “Please come in. I don’t want to discuss this out on the porch for the whole town to hear.”
Gabriel made sure that Peter entered the house before he came inside. “I’m willing to forget this incident. Since tomorrow’s Saturday Peter can come by my house to clean up the mess.”
“He’ll be there. And when he’s through cleaning up the eggs, he can do some other chores for you.”
“I’ll take care of my mess, but that’s all.” Peter crossed his arms over his chest, his features arranged in a stubborn expression.
Rebecca