Gabriel's Honor. Barbara McCauley

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СКАЧАТЬ and a little bit afraid. Damn if those eyes of hers didn’t cut right through to his gut.

      “Melanie,” she whispered, still looking at him. “My son is Kevin.”

      Kevin sunk his teeth into another bite of pickle. “I’m four years old,” he offered.

      It drove Gabe nuts, but Cara didn’t ask any questions, just chattered on about the weather as she unwrapped food and set everything out on the coffee table, including two sodas. She’d known to bring the hamburgers and fries when he’d asked for two of Reese’s best, but she’d thrown the drinks in on her own.

      “Gabe, I’m going to need that report for my board meeting in the morning.” She pulled a thick paper cup of steaming black coffee out of her bag of tricks and brought it to him. “Will you be able to work up something rough for me in the next hour?”

      His sister was kicking him out of here, he realized with a start. She didn’t want him around while she talked to the woman. He ground his back teeth. Damn you, Cara. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to know what the hell was going on. Felt that he had some small right to at least a little information.

      But Cara’s expression was firm and definitely told him to get the hell out.

      He frowned at her. “Sure. I’ll, ah, just start in the kitchen. Check out the pipes and electricity.”

      “Thanks.”

      The single word was a dismissal. He glanced back at the woman—Melanie—felt her gaze follow him until he left the room.

      He threw himself completely into his inspection, forced himself to think about wiring and water pressure instead of the woman with the sad, haunted look in her pale gray eyes.

      Forty-five minutes later, Gabe leaned against the peeling white paint of a front porch column of the old house, gnawing impatiently on the end of an “It’s a Boy” cigar. Six months ago, Wayne Thompson, the proud papa, had handed them out to every male over eighteen in Bloomfield County. Gabe had put the cigar in the glove box of his truck and nearly forgotten about it, but needing something to occupy his mind and hands for the past few minutes, he’d rooted around inside his truck until he’d found the stogie, then lit it up.

      He decided that smoking a handful of stinkweed would hold more appeal than Wayne’s six-month-old cigar.

      Spitting a piece of stale, harsh tobacco from the tip of his tongue, he stared at the front door. Cara had been in there with the woman and her son for almost an hour now, and though he’d heard their soft murmurs as he’d passed through the house, they’d all but forgotten his existence.

      Hey, sis, remember me? The one who called you? I’m waitin’ out here.

      Frowning, he flicked an ash over the porch railing and watched it float silently into the darkness and disappear. It hadn’t taken him long to do a preliminary inspection and work up a rough estimate. The house had been built to last, but had been neglected for several years. From what he could see on the surface alone, the repairs were going to be extensive, and there was no telling what he’d find once he started opening things up. With a crew of three men and himself, Gabe expected to be working here several weeks to bring the house to code and make it salable.

      He glanced back at the front door. What the hell were they doing in there?

      Soft, yellow light spilled from the living room window, and he edged his way across the porch. Just a peek, he told himself, to make sure Cara was handling the situation all right.

      He tossed the cigar into the paper cup he’d brought out on the porch with him, heard the sizzle of the burning tip as it hit the remnants of his coffee.

      Backing against the wall by the front door, he casually turned his head—

      When the front door opened he jumped, then straightened quickly. One brow arched, Cara stood in the doorway, staring at him through the screen door. The woman, Melanie, stood beside her.

      He leaned casually against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he glanced over at them with what he hoped was a bored expression.

      “Melanie and Kevin will be spending the night here.” The screen door screeched when Cara pushed it open and stepped out. “They’re going to need some heat.”

      And? Gabe looked at his sister, waited for the tiniest morsel of information about Melanie and her son. Based on the expression on Cara’s face, he obviously wasn’t going to even get a tidbit.

      He sighed, reached for the flashlight he’d set on the porch steps. “The pilot was shut off on the basement furnace. I’ll go fire it up.”

      “That’s not necessary.” Melanie followed Cara out onto the porch. “We’ll be fine. I have a blanket in my car.”

      Gabe’s hand tightened around the flashlight. Had she and her son been sleeping in her car? And if so, why? Dammit, why wouldn’t anyone tell him anything?

      “It’s no trouble,” he said more tightly than he’d intended.

      Cara placed her hand on Melanie’s arm. “You’ll be fine with Gabe,” she said quietly. “I’d stay, but I have to be at the airport in an hour to pick up my husband, Ian, from a ten o’clock flight due in from New Jersey. We’ll be coming back over here tomorrow morning after the board meeting. I’d like you to meet him.”

      Melanie shook her head. “I’ll be leaving early.”

      Cara sighed. “You have my card. Call me anytime. And my offer still stands. You and Kevin can stay here as long as you need to.”

      Melanie smiled weakly. “Thank you, but my friend is expecting us tomorrow. We’ll be fine there.”

      Cara squeezed the woman’s arm. “You promise to call and let me know you’re both all right?”

      “I will,” Melanie said softly. “You’ve been so kind. Thank you again.”

      Cara hesitated, then slipped an arm around Melanie’s slender shoulders and hugged her. The woman’s eyes widened in surprise, then closed tightly as she hugged her back.

      Gabe shifted uncomfortably, praying that neither woman would start with the waterworks. Damn, but he hated that. He’d rather walk barefoot through broken glass than deal with crying women.

      He let out the breath he’d been holding when Cara and Melanie parted with dry eyes. Cara turned to him. “You have that report for me?”

      “It’s on your front seat.” He gestured toward her silver van. “Do you want me to wait until after the board meeting, or get started right away?”

      “Right away.” She glanced up at the old house. “The meeting is just a formality. We have to do whatever needs to be done for resale.”

      He nodded, and she leaned toward him and gave him a hug. “Go easy with her,” Cara whispered, and brushed his cheek with her lips. “And stop frowning.”

      What did his sister think he was going to do? he thought in annoyance as he watched her walk to her van. Lock the woman in the basement? Yell at her?

      And just because he wasn’t walking СКАЧАТЬ