Читать книгу Gabriel's Heart - Madeline George - Страница 12

Inside the dank baggage car, Trina took a long, slow, deep breath and tried to stop shivering. The dead man lay there, as cold as the mountain outside. He was already starting to stiffen. His arms stuck out like those on a porcelain doll, and one boot cleared the shelf an inch. She shivered again, less with the cold than with revulsion.

It was stupid for her to be here, but she had to know the contents of those trunks her father had brought on board, and she had to get to them before those men did. With all her heart she hoped it would be something she’d laugh and scold herself about later.

She picked her way among the baggage carefully, having difficulty standing erect with the swaying and lurching of the cumbersome car as it climbed the mountain. Boxes tied with string…leather bags…canvas bags…trunks with other names on them…There they were. The tags tied to the locks had McCabe written on them. She tried to open the nearest trunk.

Locked. She’d suspected they would be, otherwise those two men would have stolen whatever was in them. How was she going to get into one of them?

The answer was obvious. She’d have to have the key. She knew, as surely as she knew Gabriel Hart was the most attractive and maddening man she’d ever met, that dear old Papa would have the key in his pocket.

The only other alternative would be to break one of the locks, but then her father would know someone had gotten into the trunk, and she certainly didn’t want that.

With her lip stuck out, she went back to the Pullman…and met Gabriel Hart just inside the door.

“You must be really curious about dead men, Miss McCabe, to spend so much time back there inspecting the body.”

Trina bristled. “I did not go back there to ‘inspect the body,’ Mr. Hart.” Caught. In spite of all her sneakiness. Her heart fluttered like a little bird.

“Well, then, why were you in that car?”

It wasn’t any of his business what she did. Then again, he might know a way to get into those trunks without leaving any trace of the entry.

“If you must know, I was inspecting the trunks my father brought on board.”

“I see. Did you satisfy your curiosity?”

“No. They’re locked and I have no way to unlock them.” She stuck out her lip again.

Gabriel couldn’t stand to let that lip go unkissed.

“Come in here.”

“What?”

“I said, come in here.”

Gabriel took her hand and dragged her into his compartment, closed the door, then pulled Trina into his arms.

She didn’t protest. In fact, her eyes widened until he could see the whites all the way around. Afraid? He didn’t think so. Shocked? Surprised would be closer. Her lips were mashed together in a straight line.

“Do that again.” He put his hand on the back of her neck and tilted her head back so he could see her better. Those blasted feathers fluttered between them. He found the hat pin, pulled it out and lifted the hat from her head, then pitched it onto the chair with his.

She knew she should struggle and protest. So why didn’t she? Kissing Mr. Hart would be dull and tedious. Totally forgettable. Wouldn’t it? She reached to see if her hair stuck out where the hat pin had pulled loose. It seemed to be flying everywhere. “Do what again?”

“Stick out your bottom lip. Pout.”

“I don’t under—”

“Just do it.”

With a gulp and a deep breath, Trina stuck out her bottom lip.

Gabriel sucked that pouty lip into his mouth and felt her shudder from the crown of her head to, he suspected, her dainty little toes. If she was going to slap his face and report his behavior to Papa, she’d do it now.

Trina, startled beyond words, wound her arms around his neck. The kiss was neither dull nor tedious. Mercy! Those other boys she’d kissed—whatever their names had been—had no idea whatsoever how to kiss. No wonder it had been so dull. Gabriel Hart, on the other hand, knew exactly what kissing was all about. If he thought she was going to push him away…

Gabriel smiled through the kiss. He could tell she hadn’t been kissed—really kissed—before. She might have let her young man press his lips to hers, but he’d bet she’d never opened her lips and…

He pushed his tongue into her mouth.

Surprisingly, she opened wider, inviting what was undoubtedly new to her, and started making noises in her throat—little kitten noises—that drove Gabriel crazy. Never in his life had he kissed a woman who really knew how to kiss back. Not even Hannah—

He stiffened. And pulled away.

Trina knew exactly what was going on in his mind, and she wasn’t about to stand for it.

“No, you don’t, Gabriel. I’m not her. I’m me. You’re kissing me. And you’d better keep kissing me until I say when.”

Now he was shocked. So much so, he was able to push Hannah out of his mind for the moment.

“What happens if I don’t keep kissing you, Miss McCabe?”

“You don’t want to know. Just do it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He let her come to him this time. She didn’t disappoint him. She seemed eager to taste him again, so he obliged. She ran her fingers up through his hair, along his scalp, and he trembled with the delicacy of her touch. When she put her tongue into his mouth he decided she was game for just about anything, short of hiking her skirts and joining him in bed. In time, though…

Gabriel moved one hand between them and tentatively placed it beneath her left breast, just to see if she’d stop him.

She didn’t. In fact, she leaned back just a mite to give him more room.

He took advantage of that room and covered her breast with his hand. Damn, but women wore a lot of clothes. It was more like touching a saddle than a woman’s curvy parts. But who was he to complain? Could she feel that, he wondered?

Trina squirmed a little, wishing she could actually feel his hand touching her. Too many underclothes, she decided. Still, it was nice, all the same, and devilishly naughty.

Trina knew she was acting like a hussy, but what the hell? as her brothers would say. The train would reach Silver Falls tomorrow and she’d never see Gabriel Hart again as long as she lived. Might as well add to her education the best she could while she had the chance. She wondered what else she might be able to learn…

“Buttons,” she muttered against his mouth.

Gabriel looked straight into her eyes. “Buttons?”

Trina sighed in disappointment. He’d broken the spell. Why did he have to look at her? Why couldn’t he just take the hint and…

Gabriel looked at the front of her blouse and saw the row of buttons down the front. Could she possibly want…

“You mean you want me to—”

A loud knock at the door made both of them jump.

Trina turned away to the window, grabbed her hat and straightened her skirts even though they didn’t need straightening. She checked her left breast to see if his hand had left a telltale print. It hadn’t. Thank goodness. She plopped the hat back on her head and frantically stuffed wayward curls beneath it. There wasn’t time to ask Gabriel what he’d done with the pin.

Gabriel opened the door. Senator McCabe looked past him to Trina and nodded with a tight pinch to his mouth.

“I should have known I’d find you here. I apologize, Mr. Hart, if my daughter has been bothering you again with all this protection nonsense.”

“It’s quite all right, Senator. I think…” He ventured a glance at Trina, who had straightened her back into a poker and regained her composure. The hat sat slightly skewed to one side, feathers fluttering. “I think I’ve convinced her that everything is going to be fine now. Once we get the little things taken care of and out of the way.”

Trina almost burst out laughing. Instead, she gave him a look that she hoped would say, “If you think you’re going to get my buttons out of the way…” Then she stopped to consider what that would mean—and the fact she’d been the one to draw attention to her buttons in the first place. Her cheeks warmed until she knew they must be flaming.

“Absolutely, Mr. Hart. I can see now that I was silly to worry. I’m sure you’re quite capable of taking care of any…little thing…that gets in your way.”

Gabriel stifled his laughter by coughing. “Coal dust. Awful stuff,” he mumbled.

Senator McCabe looked from his daughter to Gabriel and back again with a thoroughly puzzled expression. “Come on, Trina. I’m sure Mr. Hart needs to rest.”

Trina offered her hand to Gabriel—just the fingertips—and squeezed lightly when he reciprocated. “Thank you, Mr. Hart, for your assistance in this matter. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other later.” She left with her father, babbling something about being starved.

Gabriel closed the door behind her. Damnedest woman he’d ever known. The idea of seeing her again—seeing more of her, kissing her again—made him uncomfortably anxious.

Hannah’s face chided from deep in his mind. He felt guilty as hell. Yet, thinking more about Hannah, he wondered if she might not encourage him to get back to living again.

Gabriel sank into the empty pale green chair, propped his elbows on the ragged spots and closed his eyes. Would life ever be normal for him again? Could it be, without Hannah? Without their child? His hands tightened into fists until his fingers ached from the pressure. Blackburn had murdered an unborn child. No man capable of such an act deserved to share the earth or breathe the same air as decent folk. Gabriel intended to see to it that Blackburn wouldn’t for much longer.

A light tapping at the door brought Gabriel back to the present. Miss McCabe again? If so, she’d chosen a bad time to come for more kisses.

Gabriel didn’t get up. “Who is it?”

“Amos McCabe. I beg your pardon, Mr. Hart, but there’s a matter of the utmost importance I must discuss with you.”

First the daughter, now the father. Gabriel wished again he’d chosen another train. He pushed himself out of the chair and opened the door.

The senator hurried inside. “Close the door. What I’m about to tell you shouldn’t be heard by anyone but yourself.”