Love Inspired Historical March 2014 Bundle: Winning Over the Wrangler\Wolf Creek Homecoming\A Bride for the Baron\The Guardian's Promise (38 page)

Wondering if the rest of her was as he remembered, Gabe turned. She stood just inside the door, flanked on either side by her companions. The young woman wore a celery-green dress with a tiered lace overlay and three-quarter-length sleeves ending with a double lace frill.

The man was clad in the latest fashion—charcoal flannel trousers topped with a burgundy waistcoat beneath a casual jacket of muted black, gray and burgundy plaid. The girl was looking at Gabe with wide, uncertain eyes while the man regarded him with a careful scrutiny, almost as if Gabe were a prime example of horseflesh he was thinking to purchase.

From what Gabe could tell from the distance separating them, his mother was little changed. She was still the tall, slender, elegantly beautiful woman of his faded memories and still bore herself with a straight, upright carriage. Out of the blue he remembered her admonishing him and Caleb not to slump.

Instead of the everyday cotton dresses he recalled her wearing, she was gowned in a day dress of some royal-blue fabric with a knife-pleated skirt, a small bustle, a fitted bodice with set-in sleeves and a high stand collar. A waterfall of delicate lace cascaded down the front. The trio exemplified big-city wealth.

While he was recovering from his shock and trying to sort out how he was feeling, Libby murmured, “Oh, Gabe!” and crossed the room, weaving between the aisles and displays, her steps impatient, an eager smile on her face.

Something akin to panic gripped him. It felt as if his heart seized up and he found it hard to breathe. She must have sensed something was amiss, because she stopped a few feet from him, her smile dying a slow death. Her eyes, as blue as his own, roamed over his face, as if she were trying to assess the changes the years had made while also trying to judge his mood. Even from where she stood, he detected the faintest, well-remembered smell of her favorite scent, lilac.

All the love he'd felt as a child came rushing back, and he suddenly wanted to hug her, to feel the comfort and peace he'd always felt when enfolded in the warmth of her embrace. Fast following that was the memory of him crying himself to sleep after he and Caleb were told she'd left them. He could almost hear the sound of his sobbing in the silence of their darkened bedroom, could almost see Caleb lying stiffly next to him, his face turned to the wall, as if to block out the world.

The tenuous tenderness passed. The quiet grew near unbearable as they stood there staring at each other. He should say something, but what? At a total loss for perhaps the first time in his life, he extended his hand to shake hers. The stilted action was the height of formality. “Hello, Mother. I trust your trip was comfortable.”

The anguish in her eyes was palpable, and he felt like a cad for causing it. He might have hurt people in the past, but never with it as a goal.

Hearing the tonal inflection in his voice seemed to settle something in her mind. She fixed a bright smile on her face and, still clinging to his hand, pulled him toward the couple standing near the door, both of whom were regarding him with less-than-friendly expressions.

“Gabe, this is your sister, Blythe, and my stepson, Winston Granville. Blythe, Win, this is my younger son, Gabe.”

Blythe extended a small, lace-gloved hand. “How do you do, Mr. Gentry,” she said, her voice tinted with the same formality as his own.

Dismay filled him. He knew she was miffed that he was treating her mother with obvious coolness. He didn't blame her. He didn't want there to be conflict between him and his half sister, or conflict between him and his mother, for that matter. He'd had enough discord and anger to last a lifetime.

Hoping to ease the awkwardness, he said to his sister, “I'm doing quite well, thank you, but I'd do a lot better if you called me Gabe.”

A blush spread up her throat to her face. It seemed his little sister was a shy one.

Then he turned to the man, who regarded him with the supreme composure that seemed to accompany being born with money. Gabe was somewhat surprised that Win seemed very protective of his stepmother. Gabe liked that. He extended a hand, which was met with a firm grip. “Win. It was good of you to accompany Mother.” As he spoke, he realized he meant the words.

“I'm always glad to help Mother however I can. And this is one trip I wouldn't have missed,” Granville said, a hint of steel both in his tone and his tawny eyes.

Strangely it wasn't the veiled antagonism that rankled. It was Win Granville calling Libby “Mother.” Of course, truth to tell, she had spent far more time being a mother to this man than she had her own sons. Gabe was the real outsider, not Win Granville.

Striving for a bit of normalcy in an unconventional situation, Gabe said, “I understand I'm to drive us all out to Caleb's for supper.”

“Yes,” Libby said, adding, “if it isn't too much of an imposition.”

He managed a smile. “None at all. Actually, you're in for a treat. Abby is not only a wonderful wife and mother, she's an excellent cook.”

“My first impression was that she is very sweet and genuine,” Libby said. “It's good to have my opinion reinforced.” Her almost wistful gaze met his. “Caleb seems happy.”

Even though they'd been apart most of his life, spending time with Rachel and Danny had taught him just how much a mother was invested in the happiness of her children. “I believe he's very happy, thanks to Abby.”

“And you've never married?” Libby asked.

“No.”

But I have a son.
He'd have to tell her soon, he supposed, otherwise someone else would beat him to the punch, just as they would with the sordid details of his life while he was away.

“Hard to please?” she asked with a smile.

“Too self-indulgent for too many years,” he corrected and plunged in. “I may as well tell you, since if you haven't heard, you will. I've been away the past nine years and my behavior during that time was—” he expelled a harsh breath “—less than sterling, I'm afraid.”

He watched as they tried to absorb what he'd said. His mother looked troubled by his confession. Win seemed speculative. Blythe was clearly scandalized. He could almost see her innocent mind trying to visualize what that behavior might have included. It was easy to see there would be no hero worship of her big brother. At least not this one.

Lew Jessup strolled through the doors, bypassing the checkers tables and heading toward the new shirts, casting a curious glance at the foursome. Gabe wasn't the least surprised at his timing. When Artie Baker followed in a matter of seconds, Gabe stifled a groan. The two must have been sent as spies for the rest of the town.

Unlike Sarah, though, there would be no maliciousness connected to their reporting on the actions of the newcomers. Still, Gabe would rather have any meaningful conversations with his mother and siblings conducted in private.

He offered his extended family a dry smile and gave a slight jerk of his chin toward the two men. “Now doesn't seem the best time to discuss this since it seems business is picking up.”

Win understood perfectly.

“Hattie at the hotel serves a light lunch, and Ellie at the café across the street is open from daylight until dusk. I can personally recommend either place. I'll pick you up for Caleb's after I close—say about six?”

Gabe was aware that he was rambling, but he really just wanted them to leave before some other disaster occurred.

The thought had no more than crossed his mind when a denim-clad tornado burst through the doors. All eyes turned toward the sound of bare feet slapping against the wooden floor. Gabe's heart stopped. Danny. His dark hair stood on end, and a smudge of dirt smeared his right cheek and the bib of his overalls. His hands and feet were as filthy as the tin can he clutched. His gaze zipped past the visitors and zeroed in on Gabe. A wide smile echoed the excitement sparkling in his eyes.

“You oughta see the big ol' worms I found, Dad. I thought maybe Grandma would like to go fishin' with us while she's here.”

Three pairs of eyes turned toward Gabe. He wasn't sure whether he should laugh or cry. No doubt about it, God had a fantastic sense of timing, as well as an incredible sense of humor. Gabe motioned Danny closer. As he passed the trio, he looked up, his eyes growing wide with comprehension. He stopped in front of Gabe, who rested his hands on Danny's shoulders. He swiveled his head back and up and whispered loudly. “Is that her?”

Gabe nodded and let his own gaze move from his mother to his sister and stepbrother. “Mother, Blythe, Win...this is Danny. My son.”

With his uncanny aptitude to size up a situation in nothing flat, Danny instinctively realized he needed to make a good impression. He set the can on the floor, scrubbed his hands down his thighs and finger-combed his hair to smooth it, succeeding only in adding a smudge of dirt to his forehead.

Win's expression was unreadable. Blythe's eyes were as large as silver dollars, and the shock on his mother's face transitioned to a smile as she watched Danny's impromptu toilette.

“Pleased to meet you,” Danny said, extending a grubby hand. Seeing how dirty it was, he quickly withdrew it and offered his grandmother a blinding smile instead.

To Gabe's surprise, the well-dressed Mrs. Granville sat back on her heels in front of Danny, putting them at eye level. He couldn't tell if the sheen in her eyes was pleasure or tears. She held out her own hand, and Danny cast an inquiring look at Gabe. When he gave a single slight nod, the boy thrust out his hand once more.

Libby cradled the dirty hand in both of hers. “I'm very pleased to meet you as well, Danny,” she said, clearly captivated with the child. “And I would love to go fishing with you. Perhaps tomorrow afternoon after I have time to rest up from my trip?”

“That'd be great,” Danny said, “but it will have to be after church and the box lunch.”

“Box lunch?” Win queried.

“It's an annual event,” Libby explained. “They auction off box lunches the ladies have made, and the money is used to help people around town. After everyone eats, there will be games and just a general good time.”

“Some of us are gonna sneak off and go fishing,” Danny offered. “It's a lot of fun.” He looked up at Blythe and Win. “I don't know who you are, but if you're with my grandma, I guess you can come, too, if you want.” He gave Win a considering look. “You might want to bid on my mom's box. She's making fried chicken, and next to Ellie's, it's the best in town.”

“Maybe I'll do that,” Win said, his expression giving away nothing of what was going on inside his head. “And as for who we are, since I am a brother of sorts to your father, it appears that I am your uncle Win.”

Danny looked at Gabe. “Caleb is your brother. Is he my uncle, too?”

The subject of how everyone was related hadn't yet come up in all the hubbub of the gossip. “Yes.”

“So Abby is my aunt.”

“Right.”

Danny scrunched up his short freckled nose and squinted, trying to work out the familial ties. “So me and Ben are
cousins.
”

“‘Ben and I are cousins,'” Gabe corrected automatically.

“No, Dad,” Danny said, all seriousness. “You can't be Ben's cousin. If Caleb is my uncle, then you're Ben's uncle.”

The trio of new relatives laughed, clearly delighted with the child. As well they should be, Gabe thought with a surge of fatherly pride.

Win smiled at Danny. “I'd be happy to go with you and your grandma fishing. It promises to be an entertaining time. Blythe?”

Her gaze traveled from one person to the next. “Well, uh, certainly,” she said, almost managing to suppress a delicate shudder. “I'd be happy to go along. I'm your aunt Blythe, by the way.”

That settled to his satisfaction, Danny narrowed his eyes in perfect mimicry of his mother. “I'll bet you need someone to put your worms on the hook, don't you, Aunt Blythe?”

“I...I'm afraid so,” she confessed, turning a pretty hue of pink.

Danny shrugged and shook his head in typical male disgust. “Girls.”

It was Win who, seeing the curious onlookers, ended the fiasco. He held out his hand to help Libby to her feet. “I think we should go back to the hotel and rest a bit before lunch. It's been quite an eventful morning. We'll have plenty of time to...discuss things.”

“True,” Libby said, rising. “It isn't every day a woman acquires five wonderful grandchildren.” She ran her hand lovingly over Danny's sweaty head, but she was looking at Gabe as she spoke, her way of saying that whatever the situation, it would be all right.

“I'll expect the whole story later, Gabriel.” She placed a finger beneath Danny's chin, tilting his face upward. Her voice trembled as she looked at Gabe and said, “He's so much like you it's amazing.”

Then, regarding Danny thoughtfully, she asked, “Do you have any other grandparents?”

“Just Pops, my mom's dad. My mom's the doctor.”

Libby regarded Gabe with a lift of her eyebrows. Clearly Danny had piqued her interest with the announcement about his mother. “I thought Edward Stone was the doctor.”

“He used to be,” Danny offered. “But now my mom is.”

Libby looked thoughtful, working out more family ties. Then, as if the conversation had not taken a brief turn, she said, “So you call Edward Pops. I like that. Instead of Grandma, do you think you could call me Pip?”

Gabe couldn't imagine a less likely name for a woman of such elegance and refinement. A memory surfaced. He could almost see Grandpa Harcourt looking at his daughter, his eyes alight with love and pride as he said,
“Isn't she a real pip?”

“Sure,” Danny said, “but it's a really funny name.”

“Maybe so,” Libby said, “but my father called me that, and it's been such a long time since anyone else has used it, I think I would like it very much if you and the other children did.”