A Damaged Trust (6 page)

“That sounds delicious, Erica.” He turned to Carrie and asked smoothly, “Would you care to join us?”

She looked for a moment into Erica’s glittering eyes and knew that if she accepted, the supper would be enough to curdle her digestion. “No, I don’t think so, thank you anyway. I believe I’ll wait until later on to eat.”

Gabe nodded, his dark hair ruffling in the breeze. “I had a nice time,” he said, that flash of white streaking his attractive face. “Thank you for listening.”

“My pleasure.” Relaxing back in her chair, Carrie watched the two walk over to the tables laden down with food. Then she turned her head and closed her eyes, drifting away in thought.

Gabe instantly came to mind, and she spent quite a bit of time mulling over her different impressions of the man. Something, some subtle thing, didn’t jar quite right, and she couldn’t figure out what. Then it came to her, a trifling thing, but she worried at it anyway. Her strongest and lasting impression of Gabriel Jackson was that he seemed to be a man who was very much in control of his own actions, with a fine and decisive sense of purpose. He seemed to let no move go to waste and had an economy of power that she appreciated. Every action tonight, from his seemingly careless charm to his every gesture, had been for the purpose of first setting her at ease, then extracting information about her, and finally persuading her to give at least partial consent to his plans. His motive had been clear: he wanted something from her in a professional way.

Then why had he wasted the time and the energy (in her mind) to stop in the middle of a hot summer’s day, when he was tired to begin with, and offer to help her, a stranger, who had shown every evidence of competence, and no evidence of injury? And why, in the devil’s name, was she spending such a ridiculous amount of time worrying about such an irrelevant incident?

Chapter Three

The barbecue did end up lasting most of the night, but Carrie didn’t stay around for the latter part of it. She had had quite enough around twelve and after stopping to wish Elu Thingol a good night’s sleep, she returned to the house and went to bed.

When morning came, she was down fixing herself some coffee in the kitchen when Ralf stumbled in, yawning hugely and rubbing the back of his neck tiredly. “I feel like I died,” he moaned, slumping against the counter as he watched Carrie fix coffee.

She ran an amused eye over him. “You look like it, too,” was her unsympathetic comment. “What time did things break up last night?”

He grinned. “I can’t say for sure, but I know it wasn’t last night! I think it was somewhere around five this morning.”

“Good God!” She glanced at him. “And you’re still
moving?
Did you go to bed at all?”

He shook his head, and winced. “Nope. Steven and I have been working since about six.”

“You two have the constitution of a horse! What about Dad? Did he get to bed at all?” She poured two cups and handed one to Ralf.

“Oh, he disappeared around one o’clock. Said he wasn’t feeling very good,” he replied, sipping his coffee carefully. “Ouch! This is hot.”

Carrie stared at Ralf over the rim of her steaming cup. “Did he say what was wrong with him?”

“He complained about indigestion. Said it was pretty bad. The way he eats barbecued ribs, though, I’m not surprised! He likes his meat with his sauce, not his sauce with his meat!” he exclaimed.

“And yet he’s never had any problems that I can remember,” she mused, half to herself, but Ralf was finishing his coffee and not paying attention.

“Hey! Is there any more of this stuff? Enough for me to put in a thermos for Steven? I left him out fixing posts.”

“Huh?” Brought out of her speculation, she looked at him. “Oh, sure. There’s a full pot here, let me fill a thermos for you.” She busied herself for a few minutes and the subject was forgotten. Carrie handed the full thermos to Ralf and he prepared to go, but turned back at the door.

“You know, I don’t care what anyone else has said about you, you’re all right!” He chuckled wickedly and ducked out of the door to avoid the towel that she threw at him.

After a few moments, Carrie was treated to the sight of a very disheveled and exhausted-looking Emma dragging herself into the kitchen and heading for the coffee pot with something like desperation in her eyes. She poured herself the last of the pot, started a new one brewing, and turned to settle her considerable bulk into a kitchen chair. “Lord love us!” She started when she saw Carrie. “And me with, my curlers still in my hair! It’s a good thing it wasn’t one of the boys, I’d scare the livin’ daylights out of them!”

Carrie sipped at her coffee, chuckling. “And pray tell, when did
you
get to bed?”

Emma heaved a gusty sigh. “Three? Or was it four? No matter, it was longer than I should’ve, make no mistake about that!”

“It never fails to astonish me how a group of seemingly sane individuals can suddenly lose all semblance of normalcy in one crazy night,” Carrie remarked, staring into her cup.

“Oh, pooh!” was Emma’s only response. She giggled. “That reminds me, Gabe gave me a message for you. He was looking for you last night, right after you’d left for bed, ’cause he was wanting leave himself. He said you were the smart one, for knowing when to ’quit while you were ahead’. Anyway, he asked me to let you know he’d give you a call some time today about visiting the site of the shopping centre tomorrow.” Emma looked at Carrie curiously. “Do you have a date? Erica will be ticked off.”

“No, I’m not going on a date with Gabe!” Carrie exclaimed, laughing exasperatedly. “He wants me to shoot the site for him. I said I’d have to think about it first, since I’m supposed to be on vacation. He wanted to show me around before I made a definite decision.”

“Pity,” Emma declared succinctly. “I would have liked to have seen Erica throw a tantrum! Better luck next time.” This was accompanied by an emphatic shake of the grey curls. Carrie snorted.

She decided to stick close to the house that Sunday morning, just in case Gabe did call her. It was pleasant to watch the various mishaps of the ranch hands as they set about cleaning up the mess left in the yard from last night. She lazed by the pool, soaking up the sun in her brief swimsuit, alternately swimming leisurely laps and reading a book she’d brought with her. As she loitered the day away, she was startled to realise that she had not given Neil a thought for what seemed to her to be a long time. It was quite an encouraging thought, the pain was still there when she thought of him, but it was a more infrequent pain. She passionately hoped that it meant she was recovering, getting over what she once had felt for him.

She did not mourn for Neil. He had destroyed what high opinion she had once had of him when he’d told her the truth about his marital status. Rather, she mourned for what she had thought that they shared, the mutual trust, the open caring. The phrases made her wince. The blow of the truth had split the very foundation of any real relationship they could have built. Carrie had been shocked by the cruel change in perspective, the awful knowledge that what she once had thought was real and concrete had slipped away into shadowy illusion.

She shifted in her lounge chair restlessly. Her dreams had crumbled so easily, so quickly into dust. Such a fragile thing is trust! She just hoped she would never have to meet or speak with Neil again. Not now. Not ever. She didn’t think she could take the pain of looking into the once beloved features and seeing the eyes of the stranger who had hidden there all along.

She didn’t hear the footsteps behind her on the grass, and she jumped when Emma’s good-natured voice spoke in her ear. “Telephone for you. It’s Gabe, and he’s waiting. I told him I wasn’t sure if I could find you, but he said he’d hold on.”

“Thanks, Em.” Carrie hastily scrambled to her feet as she replied. Slipping on her sandals, she grabbed her towel before hurrying back to the house. Emma walked quickly beside her, plump legs churning to keep up with Carrie’s fast pace.

“I sure do like that Gabe,” Emma huffed, finding it a strain to hurry and talk at the same time. Carrie didn’t notice. “He’s the most polite man I ever knew.”

Carrie chuckled softly. “I find him incongruous.”

The older woman asked, “How do you mean?”

They entered the house, and Carrie paused at the threshold of the kitchen’s entrance into the hall, throwing over her shoulder, “I've never known such a devilish man with an angel’s name!” Laughing at Emma’s expression, she sped on down the hall to the telephone on the small table. Picking up the receiver, she said quickly, “Carrie here.”

“Hello, Carrie,” came the deep voice over the wire. He sounded choked. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in looking over the site tomorrow morning. I’d be happy to show you around, if you would.”

She thought rapidly. “I think tomorrow would be just fine. What time would you like for me to meet you?”

“I can easily pick you up. It’s on the way,” he informed her. “Is eight o’clock too early for you?”

“Eight would be fine,” she replied.

“Good. I’ll see you then.” As Carrie was about, to hang up, Gabe asked, chuckling, “Am I really such a devil?”

A pause. Carrie looked back down the length of the hall in dismay. She sighed. “You heard.”

He was indeed laughing, wickedly, mischievously. “Loud and clear, my dear. Loud and clear!”

Carrie just couldn’t decide what she wanted to wear the next morning. She would be close to choosing a light summer dress, when she’d see another outfit that would be more attractive, and yet a pair of shorts would probably be practical, considering that she would be tramping all over the site as the sun rose high. Carrie consulted her watch; time was slipping away too fast. She would have to dress quickly. Finally she decided on a thin tank top with a cotton Indian print skirt.

The top was a pale peach colour and the skirt was a vibrant pattern in dark browns. Leaving her hair down for a change, she touched her lips with a peach lipstick and her eyes with mascara. Then she grabbed her handbag and ran down the stairs. There was just enough time for a cup of coffee before Gabe arrived.

As she drank her coffee in quick sips, she tried to fathom the reason for her keyed-up state. She had been on hundreds of assignments before and had worked with the most difficult of clients. But now her veneer of competent professionalism had apparently deserted her. She felt as nervous as if it had been her first job. She corrected herself. Potential job. She wasn’t even sure that she wanted to do it. Not if she would be reacting to Gabe this way.

Someone knocked at the front door and she plopped her coffee cup down on the counter to dash down the hall. Janet was just coming down the stairs. “I got it!” Carrie called to her, and pulled the door open.

Gabe was there, suave and lean in a light pair of slacks and a matching vest in the same tan colour, with a white shirt underneath. Carrie received a slight jar in her perception of him
as she took in the business clothes and his air of urbane sophistication. Somehow the smoothness of his attire only managed to enhance his male attraction, giving him the dangerous air of an animal leashed. He was smiling down at her, the full power of his charm concentrated on her alone. She felt odd at this, slightly overpowered, and suddenly experienced a rare sympathy for Erica and the way the other girl pursued Gabe. If he had ever smiled at Erica that way, she thought, then I can’t blame her for chasing him. This thought shocked her terribly, and her face took on a slightly aloof air as the voice of caution whispered a warning in her mind. She didn’t want to feel attracted to Gabe; she couldn’t afford the luxury of indulging in such feelings. She was too busy remembering hurt.

He saw her expression change, of course, and his eyes narrowed on her for a moment before he looked up and greeted Janet smoothly. Turning back to Carrie, he asked quietly, “Ready to go?” She nodded and he stepped back.

“Don’t expect me at any certain time,” she called over her shoulder to her mother. “I’ve no idea how long this is going to take.”

Walking by her side, Gabe led the way to the dark blue Mercedes and opened her door for her. Murmuring a thanks, she slipped in quickly, and he closed the door before moving to the driver’s side.

“Super car,” she commented, running a hand appreciatively down the seat.

He grinned swiftly. “Filthy extravagance,” he replied good-naturedly. “But I couldn’t help it. I have a weakness for a good car.” Shooting her a sideways look as he started the engine, he drawled, “That’s really what attracted me to you by the road. I had to make sure that the Porsche was treated right.”

She shook her head with a silent chuckle at this. “I might have known it was my car and not my helpless feminine charm that did the trick,” she murmured.

“Charming, my dear, was what you were not,” he told her. There was a pause. Then, “Did I encroach upon your own personal space, just now?” It was a question carelessly spoken.

Carrie turned to stare at him, not comprehending what he meant. He was watching the road with an inscrutable expression. “What?”

“At the front door did I in some way make you feel uncomfortable?” he elaborated. At a loss as to how to answer him, since this was exactly how he had made her feel, for reasons that she couldn’t possibly disclose, Carrie stared at him silently. He flicked her a glance from under level brows. “It’s no big deal. I just thought I saw something in your face. Am I prying?”

She forced a light laugh, reluctantly appreciating his candid and disarmingly simple approach. “A bit,” she admitted honestly. “But, as you say, it’s no big deal. I just don’t make friends very quickly.”

“And my embarrassingly direct questions are making you uncomfortable,” he concluded dryly. “Fair enough. I’m glad you gave me warning, though. Now I’ll have to make a special effort to get you to lower your reserve, so you can see that I’m really not such an awful person as you first supposed! Now, don’t laugh at me like that, I’m perfectly serious! Although why I should try is beyond me. You can have a distinctly off-putting air about you…”