finally home, Daddy.”
All the other words crowded up from the love and heartache and brokenness she felt, and poured out in a fresh torrent of sorrow and regret. By the time the torrent had eased away, she had moved to the wrought-iron bench nearby to sit sideways on the end of it to pillow her cheek on the back with her wrists.
The sound of the breeze gently rustling the tree leaves overhead made her aware of its warmth as it brushed lightly over her clothes and teased through her hair. The first true sense of peace she’d felt in years began to trickle through her then, and she remembered the words, Not a soul on this earth I love more than my baby girl.
Her father had said that to her frequently, sometimes in his booming voice with a broad smile on his face, sometimes in a moment of gruff sentimentality.
The sweetness of the memory made her whisper back what she always had, “And there’s not a soul on this earth your baby girl loves more than her daddy.”
Lainey sat there for some time more in the calm that had eluded her for weeks. She’d needed this too long and craved it too desperately to rush away from it now. Drowsy from the heat, she must have dozed until she was roused by what sounded like a faint whisper.
Show him what you’re made of…
Half awake, her heart still clinging to the words she must have dreamed, Lainey lifted her head to look past the edge of the trees and note the angle of the sun. Alarm banished her calm and scattered the dreamed whisper. She got quickly to her feet and ran to her car.
Leery of driving too fast on the rutted road, she felt the ominous weight of each frantic second.
Lainey pulled up in front of the Patton main house, switched off the engine, then reached for her handbag and raced to the red doors. She stabbed at the button for the doorbell, then fidgeted as she waited. Elisa opened the door.
“I’m sorry to be late, señora. May I come—”
But the woman was already stepping back to graciously wave her inside.
“Do I have time to freshen up?”
“The second door on the hall.”
Lainey offered a smile as her heart fell further. The message she read from the way Elisa had answered was that she indeed had no time left, but the woman might have some sympathy for her need to make herself more presentable.
Lainey hurried toward the small bathroom to do something with her hair. She’d used the rearview mirror in her car to help guide her efforts to remove her smudged mascara, then had dug around for hairpins and given her hair a quick brushing, but she still looked wilted and mussed.
Another pass with her brush and a few repairs with the small amount of makeup in her handbag were made more difficult by her shaking hands. It was some consolation that at least Gabe had allowed her into his house.
She had no doubt that Elisa was giving him a report on her disheveled appearance, and she cringed. The last thing she wanted was for Gabe to think she was playing on his sympathy so he’d be nicer to her and perhaps consider forgiving her.
When she’d finished, Lainey found her way to the dining room. She’d never seen the private areas of Gabe’s house, but she had been in the main rooms a handful of times years ago. When she reached the formal room, she halted just inside the double doors.
Gabe sat at the head of the long gleaming table, his overlong dark hair still damp from his shower. The jeans and blue-striped shirt he had on were fresh but fairly common. He didn’t fuss over his clothes like men who were born to wealth or who worked in offices, and yet there was a quality about him that made him look just as neatly pressed and turned out in work clothes as he did in a suit and tie.
Gabriel Patton was a man who’d grown a substantial income from practically nothing through hard work, careful savvy, and the sheer power of his iron will. He was a man without a college education who’d taken big risks, refused to fail, and whose handshake on a deal made its outcome as certain as the sunrise.
Which was why her wrong beliefs about him had been such a profound insult to his integrity. This was a man who’d worked relentlessly to overcome his hardscrabble upbringing and achieve success. To even hint that he’d married her out of greed or to get anything by underhanded means was not only untrue but morally wrong.
The dark eyes that were too perceptive and too flat and hard to make her feel even a whisper of comfort, took note of her sudden entrance. The chill in his gaze kept her where she was and certainly didn’t show a hint of welcome. She endured it when his gaze flashed down the front of her to her feet, but it came back up so suddenly that she thought she’d imagined the swift look.
“I apologize,” she said quickly. “Time got away from me.”
Gabe didn’t comment on that, but instead called his housekeeper in. When Elisa appeared, he simply glanced her way and she disappeared back into the kitchen. Then his gaze shifted back to Lainey.
“Might as well sit.”
Lainey walked to the place setting to the right of his. Gabe rose briefly to seat her, but she knew right away that he did it only because she was a female guest and he was her host. The fact that he didn’t neglect the courtesy gave her a slim bit of hope.
Elisa brought a tray of food into the silent room and efficiently set everything out before she retreated to the kitchen. Lainey followed Gabe’s lead and reached for her napkin.
He didn’t speak to her and she didn’t feel comfortable trying to speak to him. There was nothing she could conclude about his mood except that it must be dark. He certainly wasn’t brimming with eagerness to make conversation with her, so she tried to eat the steak and assortment of vegetables and crusty bread set before her. When the silence bore down too heavily, she found something neutral to say.
“Elisa is an excellent cook.”
As if her remark had reminded him that she was sitting at the same table he was, Gabe looked her way. She couldn’t bear the searching impact of his gaze, so she looked down at her plate of food and gamely caught a piece of steak with her fork tine.
“You eat like she’s poisoned it.”
A nervous breath burst out of her before she could stop it. “No, I’m…sorry. My appetite isn’t good, but that’s not because the food isn’t…excellent.” She couldn’t seem to stop herself from glancing toward him to see his reaction.
As she’d half feared, he was watching her steadily and one of his brows showed a faint curl of both skepticism and curiosity.
“What’d you do?” he asked gruffly. “Get religion?”
The remark felt brutal but she tried not to be discouraged. “I found out what I should have known from the be—”
“Save it.”
Subject closed. What little appetite she might have had left flitted away, and she gripped the napkin in her lap with one hand while she tried to force-feed herself the piece of steak with the other. It immediately became difficult to chew, then once she’d got the job done, it was difficult to swallow. She set her fork down and reached for her water glass to take a helpful sip.
And
