hello, ladies,” Gabe said from the steps.
Flora glanced up. “Oh, my. Is it lunchtime already?”
“Almost,” Gabe said. “Has Mother had you posing all morning?”
“No, I slept most of the morning. We’ve only been out here—” Belle glanced at her watch. “I can’t believe that we’ve been out here for three hours.”
“Three hours!” Flora exclaimed. “It can’t be.”
Gabe leaned over and kissed his mother’s cheek. “That’s what you always say. You’ll wear Belle out on her first day.”
“Not likely,” Belle said. “The time got away from me, too. I’ve been totally relaxed, rocking and talking.”
“Have you spilled all your secrets to her yet?” Gabe asked. “Mother has that effect on people.”
Belle chuckled. “Maybe it’s good that you came home when you did. I might have blabbed classified information.”
“Too late,” Gabe said. “You told me everything you knew when you were in the hospital.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. You were a regular chatterbox.” When Belle scowled at him, Gabe threw up his hands and grinned. “I’m teasing. Don’t shoot me.”
“Gabriel, what a thing to say to our guest!”
Before either could respond, a Jeep roared up and pulled to a stop in front of the house. A door opened and the biggest, meanest-looking man Belle had ever seen climbed from behind the wheel.
Chapter Four
Belle had seen some tough customers in her day, but this guy topped the list. Figuring him to be in his late thirties and about six-nine or so, she’d guess his weight at around three hundred pounds. But he wasn’t fat, just big. Huge. Think Shaq on steroids. He had arms and legs like tree trunks and shoulders wider than a bus grill. He wore jeans and a wind-breaker with enough fabric to make a hang glider. His head was shaved, and a scar curved from the corner of one dark eye to the edge of his grim mouth. She grew very, very still, watching him.
Then the other door opened, and Skye got out, followed closely by Gus.
Gabe smiled at the man. “Hello, there, Napoleon. How’s it going?”
“Fine, Mr. Burrell. Just fine. Good to have you back.”
“Good to be back. Belle, this is Napoleon Jones, Skye’s assistant.”
The assistant nodded toward Belle. She nodded back.
Tiger came running from the house and practically leapt into Napoleon’s arms. The big man laughed, a deep rich sound, and held the wiggling little dog gently against him as Tiger licked his face.
“How you doing, little guy,” Napoleon said, scratching Tiger’s head as the dog licked some more.
“Belle,” Skye said, “I see that Mother already has you posing for her.” Skye peeked over Flora’s shoulder at the sketches. “Wow. That’s really something, isn’t it? Mother can see things that no one else does, but I think she’s captured you beautifully.”
“These are just quick sketches,” Flora said. “The painting will be better. I’ll start on it tomorrow. Shall we go in for lunch? I imagine that Maria has things ready.”
Once inside at the table, Belle was shocked to see it laden with so much food. Enormous platters of meat and bowls of vegetables, along with salads and a tureen of soup, covered the huge table and sideboard. It looked more like a church potluck dinner than a simple lunch. She wondered about the waste since she and Skye and Flora had only soup and green salad.
She needn’t have wondered. Napoleon packed it away like no one she’d ever seen—and with four brothers and their friends, she’d seen some world-class eaters in her day.
When Belle finished, she said to Flora, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go upstairs and freshen up for our errand.”
“What errand?” Gabe asked.
“Your mother and I are driving into town.”
“I need to stop by the gallery, and I need to pick up a few things from Daisy’s,” Flora said.
“Are you sure that you’re up to the trip?” Gabe asked.
“I think so. If I get tired, I can wait in the car.”
“I’ll drive you,” he said.
Flora winked at Belle. “That means he’ll go along and supervise your activity level.”
“I’m fully capable of supervising my own activity level.” Belle’s words came out a bit sharper than she’d intended, but she’d never taken to being monitored.
Skye snorted, then hid it behind a cough.
Gabe chuckled. “Of course you are. It’s just that I’ve cleared my desk so that I have a couple of free hours, and I was hoping to take you for a drive around the village.”
“That only takes five minutes,” Skye said.
“True,” Gabe said. “We’ll circle the square twice.”
“Don’t forget that cereal,” Suki said. “And it wouldn’t hurt to pick up another quart of honey.”
Napoleon didn’t say a word. He merely ate. Ralph had kept pace with him for a few minutes, but he’d soon dropped out of the race.
GABE LOADED two paper-wrapped paintings into the back of his Lexus. He and Flora tried to insist that Belle ride up front with him, but she declined and climbed into the backseat instead, leaving a frustrated Flora to settle for the passenger seat.
Belle had a sneaking feeling that Flora was eager to play matchmaker. It wouldn’t work. She wasn’t interested in being matched with anyone—not even gorgeous Gabe.
They drove down the hill’s long, curving road until they came to a gatehouse. Belle was surprised to see that it was manned by a guard.
Gabe smiled and nodded. “Roscoe.”
Roscoe, a burly guy who looked like an ex-Marine, nodded back, then peered inside the car before he punched the gate open.
As they drove through, Belle said, “I’m surprised to see a guard on duty.”
“We get a lot of folks who don’t realize that ours is a private road,” Gabe said. “And don’t try to hop the fence. It’s electrified to keep our critters in and others out.”
“Electrified?” Belle said. “That seems a bit excessive.”
He chuckled. “You don’t know the deer around here. They can be very determined, and
