Читать книгу The Rebel - Jan Hudson, Jan Hudson - Страница 12

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 need to be. I don’t even remember him. He was from Wimberley, and I got his name and his inheritance. My mother and I lived in various communes that were popular at the time, and she met Charlie Walker, who was a brilliant potter. They married, left the commune life behind and moved to Wimberley. For a long time we lived in my grandparents’ old house. It had stood vacant for a couple of years after my grandmother Burrell died.”

“Did you ever meet your grandparents?”

“My father’s folks? Once, I think. At my dad’s funeral. He was their only son, and they didn’t approve of his lifestyle. Or my mother’s.”

“So sad for them,” Belle said, laying her hand over his. “They missed knowing you.”

“True.” He smiled and stroked her hand with two fingers, tracing the veins and leaving a tingling trail to the end of each nail and back up again.

Her other hand squeezed the mug in a death grip. His touch felt much too…sensuous. Much too good. She tried to break the tension by sipping from her drink, but the chocolate was gone.

“Want some more?” Gabe asked.

“More?”

“Hot chocolate.”

She jerked her hand away, “No. No, thank you. We need to get to bed. I mean, I need to get to bed. You need to get to bed. It’s two o’clock in the morning.”

He chuckled and winked. “Gotcha. By the way, is it loaded?”

“What?”

“Your gun.”

“Of course it’s loaded.”

“You’re a handy lady to have around.”

“I suppose that depends on your point of view,” Belle said.

“From my point of view, it’s excellent. I’m glad you’re here. Shall I walk you to your room?”

She smiled. “I have a good sense of direction. I think I can find my way.” She carried their mugs to the sink and rinsed them. “Good night.”

THE HOT CHOCOLATE didn’t calm Gabe. In fact, his time in the kitchen with Belle had revved him up. As he lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, every cell in his body stood on red alert.

Belle Outlaw was one hell of a woman. He’d never met anyone quite like her—certainly not while staring down the barrel of a gun. He’d known she was a former FBI agent, but he’d only seen her helpless and ill in the hospital. It hadn’t sunk in that she was a formidable female. And gorgeous. His mother had seen the good bones immediately. He’d noticed the bones and the curves over them.

Gabe felt very comfortable with Belle, more so than with any woman in a long time. Even more so than with Lisa. But he dared not entertain the thought of any sort of serious relationship with Belle. He’d learned that lesson. Women expected more from him than he was able to commit. They weren’t prepared to live with the entire family that he was responsible for. Lisa had made it abundantly clear that she intended for them to have a life and home separate from his mother and Skye, but that simply wasn’t possible. He’d promised Charlie Walker, his stepfather, before he died that he would take care of the women. He meant to keep that promise to the best of his abilities. He’d fallen down on the job a couple of times with disastrous results and didn’t intend to make the same mistakes again. Flora and Skye needed him. He was their rock, their protector, and if it meant sacrificing a life of his own with a demanding wife, then so be it.

In their last big fight before Lisa walked out of his life for good, she’d called him a sanctimonious martyr giving up his own happiness for two neurotic women. Still, not even for her could he shirk his responsibilities.

Of course there was the chance that Belle might not feel the same way. She didn’t strike him as a high-maintenance type.

BELLE WAS WIDE AWAKE. The hot chocolate hadn’t helped. Maybe the caffeine in the chocolate offset the calcium in the milk. She felt wired. And a bit foolish for charging to the rescue, gun in hand. She’d almost blown away her host. Not a good thing.

She already admired Gabe, and hearing the gentle manner in which he calmed his sister added points to his score. He was a genuinely nice man. Too bad she hadn’t met him before she’d met Matt. But she hadn’t. And no way was she going to consider a relationship with another man. In the first place she wasn’t even divorced yet. In the second, she understood the dynamics of the rebound effect, and she refused to involve herself in such a situation. She wasn’t the sort of woman who needed a man to complete her. She could take care of herself—or at least she’d be able to when she figured out what she was going to do careerwise. Getting her strength back and making some decisions about employment were her priorities. Complicating things with a man would be foolish. Even a guy as appealing as Gabe Burrell.

BELLE COULDN’T BELIEVE the time when she glanced at the clock the following morning. She never slept so late. Throwing back the covers, she was about to spring from the bed when she remembered that she didn’t have anywhere to spring to. She didn’t have a job to go to or chores to do. Instead of getting up, she stretched broadly and lolled around for another fifteen minutes before she rose and dressed in jeans and a light sweatshirt.

She followed her nose downstairs in search of coffee and found Suki in the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Suki said. “How about some coffee?”

“I’d love some. I’m addicted to the stuff.”

“Me, too. Go on in the sunroom. Flora’s in there, and I’m rustling up some breakfast for her. I’ll fix some for you as well. You fussy? Flora likes that cereal with nuts and berries and seeds she gets at the health food store.”

“Sounds good to me,” Belle said. “And I can help you fix it.”

“Shoot, nothing to fix. Just scoop some in a bowl and pour some milk over it. You go on and sit down. Keep Flora company. Mugs and the coffeepot are on the table. Help yourself.”

Flora smiled up at Belle when she slid into a seat at the table. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

Belle reached for the coffee. “Yes, thanks. I didn’t mean to sleep so late. I’m usually up by six.”

“Not me. I’ve never found sunrise all that exciting.” Flora chuckled merrily. “I’m a night owl in a family of larks. Gabe has already left for the office, and Skye is at the clinic. Do you use cream? Or sweetener? Gabe drinks his coffee black, and Skye and I use only raw sugar or honey, but I think Suki keeps some of those little yellow packets around.”

“Honey would be wonderful.”

Flora moved the honey pot toward Belle. “This is local honey, the best kind. Only Suki uses cream in her coffee. I’ve tried to explain that it’s not the best mixture, but—”

“But Suki is ornery and does as she pleases,” Suki said as she brought in a tray. “I like cream in my coffee, and it hasn’t given me a bellyache in all the years I’ve been drinking it.” She placed bowls in front of Flora and Belle. “Now I tried this stuff once, and I had a bellyache that wouldn’t quit.”

“Suki has diverticulitis,” Flora said. “She doesn’t handle seeds well. I think it’s the raspberries.”

“You gonna tell her about my bunions, too?” Suki asked.

Belle stifled a laugh behind her mug.

“I’m sorry, Suki,” Flora said. “That was indelicate of me.”

Suki gave a curt nod. “We’re about out of that cereal mix. Want me to pick some up today?”

“I can,” Flora said. “I need to run by the gallery this afternoon and the health food shop is next door. Belle, if you feel up to it, you might like to go with me and see a bit of the town.”

“She needs to sit on the porch and rest, not gallivant all over the countryside,” Suki said.

“I don’t intend to gallivant,” Flora said, looking indignant. “There’s not much to see of town anyway. Wimberley is very small, and we’ll be in the car. We’ll only walk a few steps into the gallery and a few steps next door to Daisy’s. Daisy runs the health food store. She’s an old friend.”

“Thanks for your concern, but I’ll be fine,” Belle said to Suki, who looked as if she were about to argue. “I need a few things from the health food store myself.”

“See that you take care,” Suki said, “and don’t overdo it. I’ll get to my chores.”

Suki left, and they finished their breakfast. Belle heard a vacuum cleaner somewhere in the house as she poured a second cup of coffee.

“Are you sure you don’t mind sitting for me?” Flora asked. “I’m eager to make some preliminary sketches.”

“No, I don’t mind.”

“Good.” Flora hopped up. “Bring your coffee and let’s sit on the front porch. The light’s good there, and Suki will be happy you’re getting some fresh air. I’ll run upstairs and get my pencils and pad.”

Belle found a sunny spot on the porch and sat in one of the large wooden rockers there. Her parents used to have rocking chairs on their front porch in Naconiche. Thinking of her folks made her feel a bit guilty. She really ought to let them know where she was and about the situation between Matt and her. It would be awkward if her mom called Matt’s place looking for her. Belle had tried to head off that situation by calling home last week and casually mentioning that she would be involved in some out-of-town business and that she could be reached on her cell phone.

She promised herself that she’d call her parents the next day.

Or the day after.

Odd that she felt more comfortable among strangers than her own family. It wasn’t that her mother and father wouldn’t understand—or her brothers and their wives. They would. They would gather her under their wings like a hen with chicks. And she’d have to admit that she’d failed. Belle hated failing. More than hated it. The word had been erased from her vocabulary. But in the past year, she’d failed as an FBI agent and failed as a wife.

Someone had once said that failure was character-building. Maybe so, but she didn’t feel edified in any way. She felt like a first-class wuss, and to be sick and helpless on top of that had brought her to her knees. She didn’t like the feeling. She didn’t like it at all.

“You must be pondering weighty things,” Flora said.

Belle relaxed the wrinkles she felt in her forehead. “Oh? How can you tell?”

“You have a very expressive face. And aura.”

“Aura?”

Flora’s lilting laugh blended in with the dewy scent of the mountain laurels. “Ah, you’re such a skeptic on the surface and such a believer down deep. You’ve made the right decisions, and you’ll find your way.”

“Pardon?” Was Gabe’s mother some sort of psychic?

Flora laughed again, sat down and began to sketch. “I’m not touched, you know. I simply have an ability to see my subjects more deeply than a camera sees them. I’m so glad Gabe brought you home with him. Skye always brings home lost puppies and stray cats. Gabe brings home people.”

Belle wasn’t quite sure how the take the comment. She didn’t like to think of herself as the human version of a lost puppy. She’d always been tough and in control, goal-oriented. Now she felt rudderless. Maybe it was a good analogy.

“Oh, such lovely potential I see breaking through that facade,” Flora said as she continued to sketch.

“Was Lisa a stray?” Oops. She hadn’t meant to say that.

“No. Lisa was a shark.”

“I’ve been called a shark a few times myself.”

“Oh, no, dear,” Flora said. “You’re no shark. And no stray cat, either. You’re an eagle. A young eagle almost ready to stretch her wings and fly. See?”

Flora turned her pad so that Belle could see it, and Belle gasped. The drawing, a quick pastel sketch, literally took her breath away. With only a few lines, the older woman had captured her likeness, but she’d also captured something more. If Belle looked at the paper a certain way, her features seemed to morph into those of an eagle soaring toward a brilliant multicolored sky.

“That’s amazing,” Belle said. “That’s…that’s…”

“The way you feel inside?”

“It’s the way I want to feel inside. It’s the way I used to feel when I was a child—just before I went to sleep.”

“And you’ll feel that way again. You’ve just taken a detour for a while.”

“Are you psychic or something?” Belle asked, the word almost sticking in her throat. She’d never had much use for hocus-pocus stuff.

“Don’t I wish. I’d do better at the lottery. Do you know that the most I’ve ever won is twenty-five dollars? And that was three years ago. Which reminds me, I need to pick up a ticket when we go out this afternoon.”

Belle continued to rock in her chair, and Flora continued to sketch and draw out the story of her life. Belle told her all about growing up with four brothers in Naconiche, about her time in training for the FBI and, to her surprise, about her failed marriage. She couldn’t believe that she was being such a blabbermouth, especially with a virtual stranger.

“It hurts terribly, doesn’t it, dear? I found myself in the same situation with my last husband. I thought I knew him so well, and it turned out that I didn’t know him at all.”

“Skye’s father?”

“Oh, no. Skye’s father was a saint. I meant my third husband. He was a cad. Turn your head just a bit to the left. There. That’s it.”

“Well, hello, ladies,” Gabe said from the steps.

Flora glanced up. “Oh, my. Is it lunchtime already?”

“Almost,” Gabe said. “Has Mother had you posing all morning?”

“No, I slept most of the morning. We’ve only been out here—” Belle glanced at her watch. “I can’t believe that we’ve been out here for three hours.”

“Three hours!” Flora exclaimed. “It can’t be.”

Gabe leaned over and kissed his mother’s cheek. “That’s what you always say. You’ll wear Belle out on her first day.”

“Not likely,” Belle said. “The time got away from me, too. I’ve been totally relaxed, rocking and talking.”

“Have you spilled all your secrets to her yet?” Gabe asked. “Mother has that effect on people.”

Belle chuckled. “Maybe it’s good that you came home when you did. I might have blabbed classified information.”

“Too late,” Gabe said. “You told me everything you knew when you were in the hospital.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope. You were a regular chatterbox.” When Belle scowled at him, Gabe threw up his hands and grinned. “I’m teasing. Don’t shoot me.”

“Gabriel, what a thing to say to our guest!”

Before either could respond, a Jeep roared up and pulled to a stop in front of the house. A door opened and the biggest, meanest-looking man Belle had ever seen climbed from behind the wheel.