Gabriel's Atonement (25 page)

“Most, maybe, but not all.”

She was talking about herself again. He thought back to that tiny soddy she'd been living in. That was no decent place to raise a boy. Even in his worst days, he always had a solid roof over his head. He'd thought life was so hard then, but he'd never lived in poverty. Well, maybe his first year or two after he left the farm and before he became a gambler, but even then, he stayed in the supply room of the saloon, sleeping on a cot. What had she endured?

He wanted to help her. See that she got the house she deserved, but her stubborn pride wouldn't allow her to accept a home even if he gave her one. He'd been more than a little lucky that Homer had discovered her husband's horse at the Kansas City livery and brought it to her. Gabe was willing to buy her one, but she wouldn't have as easily accepted it as she had her husband's buckskin.

Behind her, a man tuned his fiddle. A small crowd sat around a cold campfire. The man tuned up his fiddle then started a jaunty song. Toes tapped and people clapped. A couple stood, and the gent bowed to the woman and she curtsied. They began sashaying to the lively music.

Lara turned to watch. Gabe noticed her index finger tapping against her arm in time with the music. He grinned and stepped in front of her. “Madam, may I have the honor of this dance?”

She shot him a glance that said he was loco and shook her head.

He leaned in closer. “Please.”

“It's Sunday. Easter Sunday, at that.”

“True, but it's not an ordinary Sunday. You need to catch the spirit, Lara. The excitement that comes with tomorrow's sunrise. Dance with me.”

She shook her head. “I can't.”

Ignoring her objection, he grabbed her hand and placed his other hand on her tiny waist. “I beg to differ.”

“Let me go, Gabe.”

He grinned. “Nope. Not until you dance with me.”

She dropped her gaze, her cheeks blazing red. “I don't know how to dance.”

Gabe blinked, not a little bit stunned. Had she never attended a social when she was young? How had a pretty gal like her grown up not knowing how to dance? Not to be swayed, he smiled. “No time like the present to learn. Just follow me.”

“Gabe—”

He tugged her close and moved his feet in time with the music, all but dragging her along. Though he rarely danced, he wasn't used to unwilling partners, but Lara was smart, and he knew she'd catch on. And she did.

She joined him in a makeshift polka, keeping time to the fast music. He enjoyed holding her hand and waist and being close to her. He had no idea how it had happened, but the independent woman had stolen a chunk of his heart. He didn't want to let her go, but he knew that he would have to. When the dance ended, far too soon for his pleasure, he smiled down at Lara. “See, that wasn't so bad, was it?”

Her cheeks were flushed, and the sparkle had returned to her lovely eyes. “I suppose not, but I really must go.”

“All right, but I'd like to ask you to ride with me tomorrow.”

Her brows dipped. “Why?”

“For protection, of course. Things will be chaotic tomorrow. Once the race starts, it will be every man—or woman—for himself.” He waved his hand in the air. “All this camaraderie, this festive spirit, will be a thing of the past, and it will be dog-eat-dog.”

Her throat moved as she swallowed, but she lifted her chin. “I can take care of myself. But I do thank you for the warning.” She turned but then paused. “I still have your
Homesteader's Handbook
.”

“Keep it. I got the information from it that I needed.”

She nodded as her gaze roamed across his face, then she held out her hand—uncharacteristically for a woman. “Thank you for all the kindnesses you've shown me, but this is good-bye, Gabe.”

A numbness settled in his brain. Her good-bye sounded so final. “What do you mean?”

She lowered her hand. “It means that I don't expect I'll see you after the race. You'll go your way, and I'll go mine. Things will be crazy tomorrow, as you said. And if I don't get land…” She shrugged, nibbling her lip in a way that made him want to pull her into his arms and kiss away all her fears.

He didn't want her to go. “Lara, give me a chance. Please. I can help you. I
want
to help.”

She pinned him with a glare. “Why?”

Because I killed your husband and made you a widow. Because I've come to admire your spunk. Because I care…
.

He couldn't tell her that. So he did the only thing he knew to show her how he felt—he tugged her into his arms and kissed her.

Lara stood stiff in his arms, but as he plied his lips to hers, a bit harsh at first but then softer, she relaxed. Not as much as he'd like, but she didn't fight him.

The fiddle music faded, and in its place hoots and cheers. Lara jerked away—fast. Her cheeks flamed. Her lips still damp from his kisses. The look in her eyes shifted from pleasingly sated to angry, and she reached up and slapped him. Loud. Hard.

Chuckles sounded all around as Lara marched away.

Used to being in the limelight somewhat, Gabe turned, yanked off his hat, and offered the crowd a gentlemanly bow. Then he took a final look at Lara's retreating backside and strode away, smiling. The woman might have slapped him to regain her honor in the face of the crowd, but she'd kissed him back, whether she'd admit it or not, and that small detail gave him hope.

Later that night, as he walked through the crowds, pondering how to get Lara to ride beside him, he overheard something that chilled his bones. He paused on the far side of a wagon and looked around. All was dark, and most folks were already sleeping.

“It's true,” a deep voice stated. “There are women riding alone in the race.”

Someone else chuckled. “Wouldn't be hard at all to follow one and steal her claim if 'n she gets one.”

“Yep. Although what if she didn't?” a third, alto voice said. “Then you'd'a wasted your chance to get land. I say ride for yourself. You're better off doin' that than chasing after a skirt and hopin'
she
gets a claim.”

“No, I think I'm'a gonna follow a skirt. That way I'll get land
and
a woman.”

Gabe froze at the tone of the man's voice.

“You're a fool, Leo.”

A ruckus ensued as Gabe imagined the deep-voiced man pummeling the other fellow, and Gabe made his getaway. There was no doubt now that he had to ride with Lara. Maybe not with her exactly, but at least right on her tail. He smiled as he wove his way back to his camp. Yes sir, that's just what he'd do.

It was the only way he knew to protect the stubborn woman who was quickly stealing his heart.

Lara lay in the tent beside Jo and Michael, listening to their soft breaths of sleep. The ground vibrated from the wheels of Boomers just arriving. A cow mooed, and someone in the distance laughed.

She wished she'd told Gabe the truth—that she wasn't riding tomorrow, Grandpa was. But as far as she could remember, she'd never told him about Grandpa or Jo. She wasn't sure why she'd held back that information, but then she really didn't know the man very well.

And yet, she'd kissed him.

Well, truth be told, he'd kissed her, but instead of insisting he release her immediately, she'd allowed herself to enjoy the moment of being held and feeling special to someone. And she'd kissed him back.

Oh dear.

She'd never kissed anyone other than Tom before.

What had she done? More was the question, why had she enjoyed it so much? Yes, she was attracted to Gabe, and yes, he'd sneaked in and claimed a portion of her heart before she'd even known it was happening, but she would never—never!—get in a relationship with another wastrel, much less a cardsharp. She prayed Gabe would get land and could change his ways, but she wouldn't be around to watch. Grandpa would ride tomorrow, and God willing, he'd stake a claim, and they'd finally have a place to call home—far away from Gabe's claim. She couldn't bear to think what would happen if Grandpa wasn't successful.
God, please. We need land. We need a home
.

She felt God saying He would provide. But she thought of how they'd struggled the past few years since Grandpa lost his homestead. Was that dirty soddy God's provision? Yes, it was better than sleeping in a tent as she was now, but still… Couldn't God provide a real house for her family? He owned the cattle on a thousand hills, but how could she reconcile the simplistic way they'd lived in the past with God's favor? Maybe she'd done something that caused Him to remove His favor from their lives. Was that even possible?

Gabriel's help had been a true blessing. Had God sent him to her to help her family?

She rolled onto her side, contemplating that possibility. She knew a person often never recognized when God had come to their aid, and that aid often came through others.

Why did life have to be so complicated?

Why couldn't it be simple for once?

Please, Lord, help us
.

Outside her tent, she heard a cough. Grandpa?

She sat up, listening. He'd seemed overly tired today, but she thought it was because of their three days of travel. He tried to do so much to ease her burden. Had he overtaxed himself? She'd have to watch him more closely.

“Lara…”

His weak call pushed her into motion, and she hiked up her gown then crawled out of the tent, taking care not to knock it down in the process. She hurried to the wagon, which he was sleeping under, and kneeled beside it. “Grandpa, are you all right?”

“S–sick. Need m–my quinine. B–blanket. C–cold.”

No! What about tomorrow? What about the race?
“I'll get it. Hang on.”

At the front of the tent, she rustled through the crate that held his medicine. Jo tossed for a moment and then sat up. “Is something wrong?”

Lara swallowed the lump building in her throat. “It's Grandpa. He's having an episode.”

Jo gasped. “What about the race?”

Lara shook her head. “I can't think about that right now. I have to care for Grandpa.” Her hand folded around the precious bottle, and she extracted one pill. She tugged on her quilt and started to back away, but Jo grabbed her arm.

“Lara, you
have
to ride. You're the only one who can now.”

She stared at her sister, not wanting to accept the truth. Grandpa's episodes lasted for days. The timing couldn't be any worse. There was no chance that he'd be well enough to ride tomorrow. The burden of getting land had fallen on her shoulders.

L
ara awoke to the sound of talking, goats bleating, and the stomach-tingling aroma of bacon. She stretched then bolted upright. Today was the day! And Grandpa. How had he fared the rest of the night?

Jo had awakened Lara sometime in the middle of the night and told her to go back to bed and she would attend their grandfather. Lara hadn't wanted to leave his side, but since she had a long, hard ride today, she acquiesced. What time was it now?

She quickly dressed and then crawled out of the tent. Michael spied her and came running.

“Mama, Grandpa's sick again. Aunt Jo made breakfuss'.” He frowned. “I like your food better.”

“I heard that,” Jo hollered.

Michael's eyes widened, but then he grinned and fell forward, wrapping his arms around her neck. “You sleeped late.”

“I was up part of the night caring for your great-grandpa.” Lara gave him another squeeze then stood and gazed up at the sun. Midmorning had already passed. She needed to hustle if she was going to be ready to ride at noon.

The two nanny goats bleated and wailed, calling to be milked. She walked to her sister's side where Jo was washing the bowls she and Michael had used for breakfast. “Why haven't they been milked?”

Her sister just shrugged. “I've been busy. I woke a bit late—fell asleep watching Grandpa. Then I had to prepare breakfast. Your boy was starving.”

Lara smiled. “Don't I know. I'm sure both of his legs are hollow the way he's always hungry.” She glanced toward the buckboard. “How's Grandpa?”

“Last time I checked, his fever was down. He probably should have another pill this morning.”

“Did he eat anything?”

“He's been sleeping, so I didn't want to wake him.”

Lara nodded. “I'll go check on him.”

As she started to walk away, Jo cleared her throat. “Are you gonna ride?”

“Do I have a choice?” She swung back to face her sister. “Could you please fix me a couple of sandwiches and make sure the canteen is filled? I probably should get to the starting line as soon as possible to get a good spot.”

Jo nodded.

Lara started to walk away then stopped again. “Are you going to be able to take care of Grandpa and keep watch on Michael and the goats?”

Jo straightened. “It's not the first time I've done it.”