Stranger in Town. Brenda Novak

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СКАЧАТЬ filled with more interruptions than he’d had in the past year. It seemed like half the town had contacted him since practice. Some had questions about whether or not he was planning to significantly change the football program at DHS. Some put in a plug for one player or another, or wanted to analyze this year’s talent. Others simply called to say how grateful they were that he was stepping in for Coach Hill. After his little confrontation with Blaine, Gabe was grateful for the support. But he’d kept to himself for so long, he also felt bombarded, overwhelmed and more than a little rusty on the social skills.

      “Hello?”

      “Gabe?”

      In the corner, Lazarus sat up.

      “Yes?” It was Hannah. Gabe knew it instantly, and immediately feared that Mike had called her and made some type of suggestion that they get together.

      He was considering breaking his best friend’s nose when she asked if he’d seen Kenny, and he realized he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion.

      Letting a sigh slip silently between his lips, he remembered the way Russ had acted when he’d pulled up that afternoon, and his anger turned to disgust. “His father picked him up at practice,” he said.

      “Oh, he did?” He heard her relief. “I haven’t been able to reach them, so I wasn’t sure.”

      Taking advantage of the fact that Gabe had stopped working, Lazarus walked over and nudged him. “He was pretty late, but he finally came,” he said, scratching his dog behind the ears.

      “That’s good.”

      “Glad I could help.” Gabe was eager to get off the phone. He’d dealt with enough people for one day—and he didn’t want whatever had happened between them this morning to raise its head again. He could already feel some kind of tension humming through the line. But she spoke before he could hang up.

      “Marissa asked about you the other day.”

      “Marissa?”

      “My friend? The one I hung out with all the time in high school?”

      That Marissa. How could he have forgotten her? She’d been one of the more determined girls-in-pursuit he’d known at Dundee High. Even the groupies who’d followed him around once he started playing in the NFL hadn’t had her perseverance. She’d asked him to the prom, after he already had a date, called him incessantly, sent him love letters, drove past his house three or four times a night. Once she even decorated his truck with hundreds of lipstick kisses interspersed with chocolate kisses. It had taken him hours to clean it off. “I remember…How is she?” he added when he realized his response had been a little too deadpan to be polite.

      If Hannah noticed, she didn’t let on. “She’s living in Boise, married with five kids.”

      “I’m happy for her,” he said. But he was even happier for himself now that he knew there was little chance of running into her, or once again becoming the object of her adoration. He’d expected his wheelchair to deter some of the women who’d chased him so brazenly, but the numbers hadn’t dropped significantly until he’d bought his cabin and disappeared from public view. He wasn’t sure what drew them. Maybe it was sympathy, the compulsion to feel needed, a craving for attention. Or maybe they simply saw dollar signs.

      Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how he looked at it—he’d known since the accident that he wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship. He especially didn’t want to keep company with a woman who sought him out because of pity or greed.

      “She’s doing well,” Hannah said.

      There was an awkward lull in the conversation, but instead of saying goodbye, Gabe hesitated, thinking of what Mike had told him earlier. He wanted to ask Hannah if Russ had won any spousal maintenance. The idea of an able-bodied man like Russ living off Hannah really bothered him. But what had happened between her and Russ was none of his business.

      “Well, have a nice weekend,” he said.

      “Gabe?”

      Lazarus yawned as Gabe brought the phone back to his ear. “Yeah?”

      “I was wondering…”

      Gabe’s muscles nearly cramped while he waited. What was she going to ask? Had Mike spoken to her after all? From the temerity in her voice, it certainly sounded that way. “What?”

      “Is there any chance you’d—”

      “No.”

      Lazarus barked, probably in response to the tension he sensed in Gabe. Then there was a long silence during which Gabe wondered how to smooth over the rejection that had just shot out of his mouth.

      “But you don’t even know what I was going to ask,” she said at last. “I mean, you make so much furniture. One chair can’t be all that important to you. Or, if it is, maybe you could make me one like it.”

      That took him aback. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

      “The chair on your front porch. I was hoping you’d sell it to me.”

      Gabe blinked in surprise—and felt more than a little foolish. “You want my chair?”

      “If I can afford it,” she said.

      Smiling at Lazarus, as if his dog could share his embarrassment, he shook his head. He had Mike to blame for his false assumption. Maybe his vanity had something to do with it, too, but it wouldn’t have been the first time a woman had asked him out. “You can have it,” he said.

      “No…I wouldn’t feel good about that. I’d rather…can you name a price?”

      Gabe had no idea what to charge her. He’d never sold any of his furniture before. And he didn’t need the money. He thought giving her the chair was a great idea. It could stand as a token of his goodwill, so she could go on with her life without carrying any baggage from the accident. Then, whatever happened—whether he walked or he didn’t—it would be his problem exclusively.

      “It’s no big deal,” he said. “Really. I’ll drop it by tomorrow after practice.”

      “Now I’m embarrassed I even asked.”

      “Why?” He began scratching Lazarus again.

      “Because I can’t take it unless you let me give you something in return. What if we worked out a trade?”

      His hand stilled. The suggestion piqued his interest, if only to see what she might offer him. “What kind of trade?”

      “I don’t know…Do I have anything you want?”

      Gabe waved Lazarus away and straightened in his chair. Was he the only one whose mind was suddenly painting erotic pictures? “Give me some suggestions,” he said. Since the accident, he’d tried very hard to cram his sex drive and anything related to male/female intimacy into a single compartment in his brain, a compartment he no longer used. Yet that innocent question from Hannah had his heart pounding as he imagined her naked beneath him, his lips gliding down her flat stomach….

      She seemed to realize that СКАЧАТЬ