Читать книгу Forever Buckhorn: Gabe - Lori Foster - Страница 8

CHAPTER ONE

“ISN’T HE JUST the absolute sexiest thing you’ve ever seen?”

“Hmm. And thank heavens for this heat wave. I love it when he leaves his shirt off.” A wistful, feminine sigh. “I swear, I could sit here all day and look at him.”

“We have been sitting here all day looking at him.”

Gabe Kasper, pretending to be asleep, had to struggle with a small smile. Life was good. Here he was, sprawled in the warm sun, letting the waves from the weekend boaters gently rock the dock, with a fishing pole loosely held in one hand, a Van Halen hat pulled low over his eyes and a gaggle of good-lookin’ women ogling him. He had not a care in the world. Man couldn’t ask for much more satisfaction out of living.

“He is so gorgeous.”

“And wicked lookin’. I dearly love those whiskers on his chin.”

Aha. And here his brother Jordan had sworn the whiskers looked disreputable and tried to convince him to shave. Jordan could be such a stuffed shirt sometimes.

“I like that golden hair on his body, myself.”

Gabe almost chuckled out loud. He couldn’t wait to tell his brothers about this. Now that the two eldest were married and off-limits, Gabe and Jordan, the only two single ones left, got even more attention. Not that he was complaining. Female adoration was one of those things that couldn’t really go to excess, at least, in his opinion.

“I don’t mind tellin’ you, Rosemary, it made me nervous when the first two brothers got married off. I cried for two days, and I was so afraid they’d all end up doing it. Heck, besides dying to have one of them to myself, those brothers were the biggest tourist draw we had here in Buckhorn.”

Gabe bit the side of his lip. He’d just keep that little tidbit to himself when he did the retelling. Hell, his brothers’ egos—Morgan’s especially—were big enough as it was. No need adding to them. No, he’d just stick to sharing the compliments about himself.

“And Gabe is the biggest draw my boat dock has. With him sitting there, no one wants to get their gas or bait anywhere else. I keep thinkin’ I ought to pay him or something.”

“Ha! You’re just hoping to get a little closer to him.”

“No, I just wanna make sure he doesn’t take his sexy self off to some other dock.”

“Amen to that!”

Giggles erupted after such a heartfelt comment and Gabe sighed. He had no intention of switching loyalties. Hell, Rosemary’s daddy had been letting him hang out on his docks since he was just a grasshopper and had first noticed what a pleasing thing it was to see females in bikinis. This place felt almost like a second home now. And since Rosemary’s daddy had passed away, he felt honor bound to stick around and help out on occasion. The trick was to keep Rosemary from getting marriage minded, because that was one route his brothers could travel alone, thank you very much.

“It amazes me that those brothers aren’t full related. They all look different—”

“But they’re all gorgeous, I know. And they’re all so…strong. My daddy used to say it took a hell of a woman to raise boys like that. I just wish they didn’t live so far out on that land. Thinking up a good excuse to visit isn’t easy. Not like accidentally running into the other men here in town.”

Gabe did smile at that, he couldn’t help himself. He and his brothers—he refused to think of them as half brothers—had often joked about going into town to see who was looking for them. Usually some female or another was. But by living out a ways, they could always choose when and if they wanted to get friendly. It had been helpful, because once they’d hit their teens, the females had come on in droves. His mother used to claim to keep a broom by the front and back doors to beat the women away. Not that any of them minded overmuch, though his two new sisters-in-law were sure disgruntled over all the downcast female faces since the two weddings had taken place.

Gabe was just about to give up feigning sleep when a new female voice joined the others over by the gas pumps.

“Excuse me, but I was told Gabriel Kasper might be here.” It was more a statement than anything else, and rather…strident to boot.

Female, but not at all local.

This new voice wasn’t soft, Southern or sweet. She’d sounded almost impatient.

Gabe decided just to wait and see what the lady was up to. It wasn’t unusual for someone female to be looking for him, and most everyone in these parts knew that in the summer, you could find him by the lake more often than not. He resisted the urge to peek at the owner of the voice and kept his body utterly relaxed.

“Whatdya want Gabe for?” That suspicious tone was from Rosemary, bless her sweet little heart, and Gabe vowed to take her to dinner real soon.

There was a beat of silence, then, “I have personal business to discuss with him.”

Oh, great, Gabe thought. That’ll get the gossip going. What the hell kind of personal business could he have with a woman he didn’t know? And he was certain he didn’t know her. She didn’t sound at all familiar.

“Well, he’s right there, but he’s relaxin’, and he won’t thank you none for disturbing him.”

“I appreciate your warning.”

Well used to the soft thud of sneakers or bare feet on the wooden planks of the dock, Gabe almost winced when the clack of hard-soled shoes rang over the water. He ignored it, and ignored the woman he could feel hesitating next to his lawn chair. The breeze stirred and he caught a light feminine scent, not really perfume, but maybe scented shampoo. He breathed deeply, but otherwise remained still.

He heard her clear her throat. “Uh…excuse me?”

She didn’t sound so confident, and he waited, wondering if she’d shake him awake. He felt her hesitate, knew in his gut she was reaching for his naked shoulder…

And the fishing pole nearly leaped out of his hand.

“Son of a bi—” Gabe jolted upright, barely managing to hang on to his expensive rod and reel. His feet hit the dock and he deftly maneuvered the rod, going with the action of the fish. “Damn, it’s a big one!”

Rosemary, Darlene and Ceily all ran over to his side.

“I’ll grab the net!” Rosemary said.

Ceily, who usually worked the diner in town, squealed as the fish, a big ugly carp, flipped up out the water. Darlene pressed to his back, peering over his shoulder.

Gabe slid over the side of the dock to the smooth, slick, moss-covered concrete boat ramp, bracing his legs wide to keep his balance while he struggled with the fish. Rosemary, a fisherwoman of long standing, didn’t hesitate to slip in beside him. She held the net at the ready. Just as Gabe got the carp close enough, she scooped him with the net. The fish looked to weigh a good fifteen pounds, and she struggled with it while Gabe tried to reach for the net and hold onto his pole.

But then Rosemary lost her footing and Gabe made a grab for her and they both went down, splashing and cursing and laughing, too. The rod jerked out of his hands and he dove forward to grab it, barely getting ahold and soaking himself thoroughly in the process. The other two women leaped in to help, all of them struggling to keep the fish and the rod while roaring with hilarity.

When the battle was over, Gabe had his fish, and a woman, in his lap. Rosemary had settled herself there while Darlene and Ceily hung on him, both struggling to control their raucous laughter. He’d known all three of them since grade school, so it wasn’t the first time they’d played in the water; they felt totally familiar with each other and it showed. A long string of seaweed clung to the top of Gabe’s head, and that started the women giggling again.

Gabe, enjoying himself, unhooked the big fish, kissed it—making the women smack at him—then tossed it back.

It was then they heard the tap, tap, tap of that damned hard-soled shoe.

Turning as one, they all peered at the woman who Gabe only then remembered. He had to shade his eyes against the hot sun to see, and it wasn’t easy with three women draped over his body.

Silhouetted by the sunshine, her long hair looked like ruby fire. And he’d never in his life seen so many freckles on a woman before. She wore a crisp white blouse, a long jean skirt and black pumps with nylons. Nylons in this heat? Gabe blinked. “Can I help you with somethin’, sugar?”

Her lips tightened and her arms crossed over her middle. “I don’t think so. I was looking for Gabriel Kasper.”

“That’d be me.”

“But…I was looking for Gabriel, the town hero.”

Darlene grinned hugely. “That’s our Gabe!”

Ceily added, “The one and only.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “That’s nonsense and you all know it.”

The women all started in at once, Ceily, Rosemary and Darlene assuring him he was all that was heroic and wonderful and more.

Little Red merely stared in absolute disbelief. “You mean, you are the one who rescued those swimmers?”

He gently lifted Rosemary off his lap and cautiously stood on the slick concrete. The women had gone silent now, and Gabe could see why. While they looked downright sexy in their colorful bikinis, loose hair and golden tans, this woman looked like the stern, buttoned-up supervisor of a girls’ prep school. And she was glaring at them all, as if she’d caught them having an orgy in the lake, rather than just romping.

Gabe, always the gentleman, boosted each woman to the dock, then deftly hauled himself out. He shook like a mongrel dog, sending lake water flying in cold droplets. The woman quickly backed up two steps.

Rosemary plucked the seaweed from his hair and he grinned at her. “Thanks, sweetie. Ah, would you gals mind if I talk to…” He lifted a brow at Red.

“Elizabeth Parks,” she answered stiffly. She clutched a notepad and pencil and had a huge purselike bag slung over one shoulder, stuffed to overflowing with papers.

“Yeah, can I have a minute with Ms. Parks?” He had the sneaking suspicion Ms. Parks was another reporter, and he had no intention of chatting with her for more time than it took to say thanks but no thanks. “I won’t be long.”

“All right, Gabe, but you owe us for rescuing your fish.”

“That I do. And I promise to think up some appropriate compensation.”

Giggling again, the women started away, dragging their feet every step, sashaying their sexy behinds. But then two boats pulled in and he knew that would keep them busy selling gas and bait and whatever other supplies the vacationers wanted. He turned to Red.

“What can I do for you?”

Now, without the sun in his eyes, Gabe could see she had about the bluest blue eyes he’d ever seen. They stood out like beacons among all that bright red hair and those abundant freckles.

She flipped open her bag and dragged out a folded newspaper. Turning it toward him, she asked, still with a twinge of disbelief, “Is this you?”

She sounded suspicious, but Gabe didn’t even have to glance at the paper. Buckhorn, Kentucky was a small town, and they looked for any excuse at all to celebrate. The town paper, Buckhorn Press, had used the changing of a traffic light for front-page news once, so it was no wonder they’d stuck him in there for a spell when he helped fish a few swimmers out of the path of an unmanned boat. It hadn’t been even close to an act of heroism, but if changing traffic lights was important, human endangerment was outright momentous.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Gabe reached for his mirrored sunglasses and slipped them on, then dragged both hands, fingers spread, over his head to smooth his wet hair. He stuck his cap on backward then looked at the woman again. With the shades in place, he could check her over a little better without her knowing.

But the clothing she wore made seeing much impossible. She had to be roasting in that thick denim and starched cotton.

She cleared her throat. “Well, if it’s really true, then I’d like to interview you.”

Gabe leaned around her, which made her blue eyes widen, and fetched a can of cola from the cooler sitting beside his empty chair. “You want one?”

“Uh, no, thank you.” She hastily stepped back, avoiding getting too close to him. That nettled.

After popping the tab on the can and downing half of it, Gabe asked, “What paper do you write for?”

“Oh. No, I don’t—”

“Because I’m not interested in being interviewed again. Every damn paper for a hundred miles around picked up on that stupid story, and they blew it all out of proportion. Folks around here are finally about done razzing me, my damn brothers included, and I’m not at all interested in resurrecting that ridiculous business again.”

She frowned at him, then snapped the paper open to peruse it. “Did you or did you not dive into the water to pull three people, a woman and her two children, out of the lake when a drunken man fell out of his boat, leaving the boat unmanned?”

Gabe made a face. “Yeah, but—”

“No one else did anything, they just sort of stood there dumbfounded while the boat, without a driver, began circling the hapless swimmers.”

“Hapless swimmers?” He grunted at her word usage. “Any one of my brothers would have done the exact same thing, and in fact—”

“And did you or did you not then manage to get in the boat—” She glanced up. “I’d love for you to explain how you did that, by the way. How you took control and got inside a running boat without getting chewed to bits by the prop. Weren’t you at all scared?”

Gabe stared at her. Even her lashes were reddish, sort of a deep auburn, and with the sun on them, the tips were turned to gold. She squinted against the glare of the sunshine, which made the freckles on her tipped-up nose more pronounced. Other than those sprinkled freckles, her skin was smooth and clear and…

He shook himself. “Look, sugar, I said I didn’t want to do an interview.”

She puckered up like someone had stuck a lemon between her lips. “My name is Ms. Parks, or Elizabeth, either will do, thank you.” After that reprimand, she had the audacity to say, “All the others wanted to be interviewed. Why don’t you?”

She stood there, slim brows raised, her pencil poised over that damn notepad as if she expected to write down his every profound word.

Gabe cursed. Profound words were not his forté. They took too much effort. “What others?”

“The other heroes.”

He could see her long hair curling in the humidity even as they spoke. It hung almost to the top of her behind, except for the front which was pulled back with a huge barrette. Little wispy curls, dark with perspiration, clung to her temples. The longer hair was slowly pulling into corkscrew curls. It fascinated him.

The front of her white blouse was beginning to grow damp, too, and Gabe could detect a plain white bra beneath. Damn, it was too hot to be all trussed up like that. What the hell kind of rigid female wore so many clothes to a vacation lake during the most sweltering heat wave of the summer season?

He didn’t care what kind of female. “All right, first things first. I’m not doing any interview, period. Two, I’ll admit I’m curious as to what the hell you’re talking about with this other heroes business. And three, would you be more comfortable in the shade? Your face is turning berry red.”

If anything, her color intensified. It wasn’t exactly a pretty blush, more like someone had set a fire beneath her skin. She looked downright blotchy. Gabe almost laughed.

“I, ah, I always turn red,” she explained, somewhat flustered. “Sorry. Redheads have fair skin.”

“And you sure as certain have redder hair than most.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

She looked stiff, as if he’d insulted her. It wasn’t like her red hair was a state secret! A body could see that hair from a mile away.

He had to struggle to keep from grinning. “So whatdya say? You wanna go sit in the shade with me? There’s a nice big piss elm hanging over the water there and it’s cooler than standing here on the dock in the sun, but not much.”

She blinked owlishly at him. “A what elm?”

“Piss elm. Just sorta means a scraggly one. Come on.” She looked ready to expire on him, from flustered embarrassment, heat and exasperation. Without waiting for her agreement, he grabbed his cooler, took her arm in a firm grip and led her off the dock, over the rough rock retaining wall and through the grass. One large root of the elm stuck out smoothly from the ground and made a nice seat. Gabe practically shoved her onto it. He was afraid she might faint on him any minute. “Rest there a second while I get you a soda.”

She scrambled to smooth her skirt over her legs, covering as much skin as possible, while trying to balance her notepad and adjust her heavy purse. “No, thank you. Really, I just—”

He’d already opened a can. “Here, drink up.” He shoved the drink into her hand and then waited until she dutifully sipped. “Feel better?”

“Uh, yes, thank you.”

She acted so wary, he couldn’t help but be curious about her. She wasn’t his type—too pushy, too prim, too…red. But that didn’t mean he’d let her roast herself in the sun. His mother would hide him if she thought he’d been rude to a lady, any lady. Besides, she was kinda cute with her prissiness. In a red sort of way.

Gabe grabbed another cola for himself, then sat on the cooler. He looked at her while he drank. “So, tell me about these heroes.”

She carefully licked her lips then set the can in the grass before facing him. “I’m working on a thesis for college. I’ve interviewed about a half dozen different men who were recently commended for performing heroic acts. So far, they’ve all had similar personality types. But you—”

“No fooling? What type of personality do heroes have?”

“Well, before I tell you that, I’d like to ask you a few questions. I don’t want your answers to be biased by what the others have said.”

Gabe frowned, propping his elbows on his knees and glaring at her. “You think I’d lie?”

She rushed to reassure him. “No! Not consciously. But just to keep my study pure, I’d rather conduct all the interviews the same way.”

“But I’ve already told you, I don’t want to be interviewed.” He watched her closely, saw her frustration and accurately guessed that wasn’t typical behavior of a hero. What nonsense.

After a long minute, she said, “Okay, can I ask you something totally different?”

“Depends. Ask, then I’ll see if I want to answer.”

“Why’d you throw the fish back?”

Gabe looked over his shoulder to where he’d caught the carp, then back. “That fish I just caught?”

“Yes. Why fish if you’re not going to keep what you catch.”

He chuckled. “You don’t get out by the lake much, do you?”

“I’m actually not from around here. I’m just visiting the area—”

“To interview me?” The very idea floored him, and made him feel guilty for giving her such a hard time.

“Yes, actually.” She took another drink of the soda, then added, “I rented a place and I’m staying for the month until school starts back up. I wanted to have all my research together before then. I’d thought I was done, and I was due a short vacation, but then I read the papers about you and decided to add one more interview.”

“So you’re working during your vacation?” He snorted. That was plain nuts. Vacations were for relaxing, and the idea of wasting one to pester him didn’t make sense.

“Yes, well, let’s just say that, hopefully, I’m combining my vacation with an interview. I couldn’t resist. Your situation was unique in that every time you were quoted, you talked about someone else.”

“I remember.” The people he’d talked about were more interesting than anything he had to say about himself.

“You went on and on about how brave the two little kids were…”

“They were real sweet kids, and—”

“…and you lectured something fierce about drinking and water sports.”

“This is a dry lake, which means no alcohol. That damn fool who fell out of his boat could have killed someone.”

She gave him a coy look, surprising the hell out of him with the natural sensuality of it. She was so starchy, he hadn’t been at all prepared. “But you keep saying the situation wasn’t dangerous.”

“It wasn’t. Not to me.” She looked smug, and she wrote something on her paper, making him frown. He decided to explain before she got the wrong idea. “Hell, I’ve been swimming like a fish since I was still in diapers. I was in this lake before I could walk. My brothers taught me to water-ski when I was barely five years old, and I know boats inside and out. There was no risk to me at all, so there’s no way anyone in their right mind can label me a hero.”

“So you say. But everyone else seems to disagree.”

“Sweetheart, you just don’t know Buckhorn. This town is so settled and quiet, any disturbance at all is fodder for front-page news. Why, we had a cow break out of the pasture and wander into the churchyard sometime back. Stopped traffic for miles around so everyone could gawk. The fire department showed up, along with my brother, who’s the sheriff, and the Buckhorn Press sent all their star reporters to cover the story.”

“All their star reporters?”

He grinned. “Yeah. All two of them. That’s the way things are run around here. The town council meets to vote on whether or not to change the bulbs in the street lamps and last year when Mrs. Rommen’s kitty went missing, a search party was formed and we hunted for three days before finding the old rascal.”

She wrote furiously, which annoyed the hell out of Gabe, and then she looked up. “We?”

He tilted his head at her teasing smile, a really nice smile now that he was seeing it. Her lips were full and rosy and… He frowned. “Now, Ms. Parks, you wouldn’t expect me to avoid my civic duty, would you? Especially not when the old dear loves that ugly tomcat something fierce.”

She grinned at him again, putting dimples in those abundant freckles, making her wide mouth even more appealing, before going back to her writing. Gabe leaned forward to see exactly what she was putting on paper, and she snatched the paper to her chest.

“What are you doing?” She sounded breathless and downright horrified.

Gabe lifted a brow. “Just peeking at what you consider so noteworthy.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She lowered the paper, but the damage had been done. Dark smears of pencil lead were etched across the front of her damp white blouse.

Gabe nodded appreciatively at her bosom while sipping his cola. “Looks like you’ll need to be cleaned up.” He said it, then stood. “You should probably head on home to do that.”

She quickly stood, too. “But I haven’t asked you my questions yet.”

“And you won’t. I don’t want to be interviewed. But just for the hell of it, I turned the fish loose ’cause it’s a carp, not that good for eating and a real pain to clean being as they have a mud vein. Bass is more to my tastes. Which doesn’t matter any when you’re fishing just for the fun of fishing, which is usually how I do it. You should try it sometime.” He looked her over slowly. “Cuttin’ loose, I mean. It’s real relaxing.”

He turned to walk away and she trotted to keep up with him. “Gabriel…Mr. Kasper…”

“Gabe will do, unless you’re thinking to ask more questions.” He said it without looking at her, determined to get away before he noticed anything about her besides her lips, which now that he’d noticed he couldn’t stop noticing, or how nicely that starched shirt was beginning to stick to her breasts in the humidity. He still couldn’t tell for sure, but he suspected a slight possibility that she was built rather nice beneath all the prim, stiff clothing. And that was the kind of suspicion that could distract a man something awful.

Only she wasn’t the kind of woman he wanted to be distracted by. She had an obvious agenda, while he avoided plans and merely enjoyed each day.

“Gabe, really, this isn’t a lengthy interview. There’s no reason for you to be coy.”

He had to laugh at that. Shaking his head, he stepped on the dock and looked at her. He could have sworn he saw another long red tress snap into a curl right before his eyes. Her whole head was beginning to look like corkscrews. Long, lazy, red corkscrews. It was kinda cute in a way… Hell, no. No, it was not cute.

“I’ve never been called coy in my life. I’m just plain not interested in that foolishness.” He skimmed off his sunglasses and hat, and placed them on his chair, then tossed a fat inflated black inner tube into the lake. “Now, I’m going to go cool off with a dip. You can either skim out of those clothes and join me before you expire from the heat, or you can go find some other fool to interview. But no more questions.” He started to turn away, but belatedly added, “Nice meeting you.” Then he dove in.

He was sure his splash got her, but he didn’t look to see. At least not at first.

She stood there for the longest time. He was strangely aware of her presence while he hoisted himself into the center of the inner tube and got comfortable. Peeking through one eye, he watched her stew in silence, then glare at him before marching off.

Finally. Let her leave.

Calling him a hero—what nonsense. His brothers were real heroes; even those kids that had kept their cool and not whined could be considered heroic little devils. But not Gabe Kasper. No, sir.

He started to relax, tipping his head into the cool water to drench his hair and lazily drifting his arms. But his neck snapped to attention when he saw Little Red stop beside Rosemary. She pointed at Gabe, then pulled out her damn notepad when Rosemary began chattering. And damn if Ceily and Darlene didn’t wander closer, taking part.

Well, hell. She was gossiping about him!

When he’d told her to interview someone else, he meant someone else who wouldn’t talk about him. Someone not on the lake. Hell, someone not even in Buckhorn—not even in Kentucky!

Rosemary’s mouth was going a mile a minute, and he could only imagine what was being said. He ground his teeth in frustration.

A couple of women in a docked boat started flirting with him, but Gabe barely noticed. He stared at Rosemary, trying to will her to clam up, but not wanting to appear too concerned about the whole thing. What was it with Red, that she’d be so damn pushy? He’d explained he wasn’t a hero, that she didn’t need him for her little survey or whatever it was she conducted. But could she let that go? Hell, no.

One of the women from the docked boat—a really nice inboard that cost more than some houses—dove in and swam over to him. Gabe sent her a distracted smile.

It was in his nature to flirt; he just couldn’t seem to help himself, and he’d never yet met a woman who minded. This particular woman didn’t. She took his smile as an invitation.

Yet anytime he’d gotten even remotely close to Red, she’d frozen up like he was a big water snake ready to take a bite. Obviously she wanted into his head, but nowhere else.

Strange woman.

She walked away from Rosemary with a friendly wave, and Gabe started to breathe a sigh of relief—until she stopped a few yards up the incline where Bear, the repairman who worked on boat engines for Rosemary, was hanging around. Gabe helped the man regularly, whenever things got too busy, but did Bear remember that now? Gabe snorted. The old whiskered cuss looked at Red warily, then glanced at Gabe, and a smile as wide as the dam spread across his wrinkled face. Just that fast, Little Red had her pencil racing across the paper again.

“Damn it.” Gabe deftly tipped the inner tube and slid over the side into the water. The sudden chill did nothing to cool his simmering temper. Keeping his gaze on the meddling female, he swam—dragging the inner tube—to the dock. But just as he reached it, so did the woman from the boat.

“Ah, now you’re not planning to leave just when I got here, are you?”

Gabe turned. He’d actually forgotten the woman, which was incredible. She stood waist deep in the shallow water and from what he could see, she was built like a Barbie doll, all long limbs and long blond hair, and so much cleavage, she fairly overflowed her skimpy bikini bra. She should have held all his attention, but instead, he’d been thoroughly distracted by an uptight, overly freckled, redheaded wonder of a woman who jumped if he even looked at her.

Gabe glanced at Red, and their gazes clashed. He’d thought to go set the little darling straight on how much prying he’d put up with, but he reconsidered.

Oh, she was in a hot temper. Her blue-eyed gaze was glued to him, and her pencil was thankfully still. It was then Gabe realized his female swimming companion had caught hold of his arm—and Red disapproved mightily. She was looking like a schoolmarm again, all rigid, her backbone straight. Well, now. That was more like it.

Gabe turned to the blonde with a huge smile. This might just turn out to be fun.