The Rebel. Jan Hudson

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      Chapter Three

      Belle wanted to hear more about Lisa and her flying the coop, but she didn’t ask and nobody volunteered any more on the subject. Just as well, she thought. She wasn’t eager to discuss her failed love life, either.

      They all ate together, along with Suki and Ralph, who seemed to be part of the family, at a long harvest table in the sunroom. Since it was well after dark when they dined, there wasn’t a sun to see. Maria’s tamales were indeed among the best Belle had ever eaten. Everything was delicious and when the meal was over, Suki and Skye cleared the table.

      Everyone scattered to tend to various tasks, leaving Flora and Belle alone in the den.

      “Let me show you around the house so you’ll be familiar with everything,” Flora said.

      Belle followed her on a tour of the downstairs, through the formal living and dining rooms.

      “Down that hall is Gabe’s domain. He has his home office and private rooms there. And here is the library. We have quite a collection of popular fiction as well as classics. I like mysteries myself. And romance.” Flora winked. “Help yourself to anything that suits your fancy.”

      “I will. I love to read,” Belle said, selecting a couple of books that looked interesting.

      “Upstairs Skye and I each have a suite, and I have my studio. Tomorrow, if you feel like it, I’d love to have you sit for me. You can read and I can sketch.”

      “You said something about soul paintings. Exactly what is that?”

      “It’s a bit hard to explain. It’s probably best if you experience it. Anyhow, feel free to have the run of the place, but we do set the alarm system at night, so don’t go wandering outside without the code. I never can remember what it is, but Gabe can explain all that later.”

      “Do Suki and Ralph live in?”

      “Well, sort of. They have their own separate apartment over the garages. And Manuel and Maria have a place near the clinic. Other employees live off premises. Would you like some coffee or an after dinner drink?”

      “No, thank you, Flora. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go upstairs and read for a bit, then make an early night of it. I can’t seem to get enough sleep.”

      BARKING ROUSED BELLE. Piercing screams made her shoot straight up. Bounding from her bed, she grabbed the Glock from her bag and ran to the hall.

      She heard a noise behind her and swung around, both arms extended and ready to shoot.

      “Whoa, whoa,” Gabe said. “It’s me.”

      Belle lowered the pistol. “Sorry. Old habits. I heard barking and screaming. Did your mother find another scorpion?”

      He smiled and shook his head. “It was Skye this time. A nightmare, I think. I was just going to check on her.” He went to Skye’s door and unlocked it.

      As Belle watched him, she realized that he was barefoot and wore only pajama bottoms, flannel ones in Black Watch plaid. His hair was rumpled from sleep. How in the world had he heard Skye all the way in his distant rooms? And why was Skye locked in her suite? Strange. Very strange.

      He’d left the door open, and she was tempted to follow him inside. Instead she waited. She heard Gabe calming Gus and praising him. She also heard soft murmurs as if he were calming his sister as well. A few minutes later he came out, pulling the door shut behind him.

      He seemed surprised to find Belle still there. And the rake of his eyes over her reminded her that she wore only a long T-shirt and socks. Her eyes did a little raking of their own. The man had a lovely chest and wonderful shoulders and an—

      Gabe cleared his throat, and she quickly glanced up from his navel. What in the world was she doing staring at a man’s navel and wondering about all sorts of things that could only get her into trouble?

      “Is Skye okay?” Belle asked.

      “She’s fine. She has nightmares sometimes, especially when our routine is disturbed.”

      “Oh, is my being here causing the problem? Because if it is, I—”

      “No, no. Not that at all. Something else entirely. In fact, I think your being here will be good for Skye. All she does is work, and she doesn’t have many friends her own age. Say, I’d better let you get back to bed.”

      “No problem. With all the sleep I’ve had lately, I’m wide awake. I’ll probably read some more of my mystery.”

      “Are you eager to return to it, or could I interest you in a cup of hot chocolate?”

      “Hot chocolate sounds wonderful. Let me get a robe, and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

      Besides slipping on a robe, Belle took long enough to run a brush through her hair and brush her teeth. Adding makeup would be a bit obvious, so she passed on that—though she was tempted to at least use a little lip gloss.

      When she got to the kitchen, she noticed that Gabe had pulled on a T-shirt, but he hadn’t brushed his hair.

      “Is the instant kind okay?” he asked. “I’ve got milk in the microwave.”

      “Instant is fine. I don’t think I’ve had the regular kind since I was about six. That’s the year my mother started back teaching.” Belle sat on a barstool at the granite-topped center island.

      “I didn’t realize your mother was a teacher. What did she teach?”

      “She taught in elementary school. We teased her that it was BK, BK and AK. Before kids, between kids and after kids. She was a wonderful teacher.”

      Gabe poured the milk into two waiting mugs. “Want a marshmallow?”

      “Sure.”

      He plunked one into each mug, then brought them to the island and sat on a stool next to her. “Does she still teach?”

      “No, she retired and bought the Double Dip. It’s an icecream shop on the square of Naconiche. Since my dad’s retired as well, they turned our big house over to my brother Frank and his family, and they live in an apartment over the shop.”

      “Your father was a sheriff, wasn’t he?”

      “For years and years. Now my brother J.J. has the job. What about your father? I assume that, since you’re Burrell, and Skye and your mom are Walkers, you have a different father.”

      Gabe sipped from his mug before he answered. “Right. He and my mom were flower children who traveled around here and there in a minivan. Typical of the times. I was only a toddler when he tripped on LSD and flew into the Grand Canyon. Needless to say, his flight had disastrous results.”

      “Oh, Gabe, I’m sorry.”

      “No СКАЧАТЬ