Hannah Grace (26 page)

She gulped a deep breath of air. Never had a still, small voice ever made itself so audible. She wanted to ponder it further, but Gabe's warm breath upon her face unraveled her wits into tiny pieces, making it quite impossible to think clearly.

When his lips brushed her cheek and headed for her temple, she gasped and ducked, stepping out from under the circle of his arms. "Wh-where exactly do you come from, Sher-ur, Gabe?" she suddenly asked, surprised her voice even worked.

He released a quick breath and blinked twice, arms falling to his sides. "Pardon?"

"You know, where did you live as a child? You once mentioned your father and brother, but, well, do you have any sisters? And were you a sheriff in your other-wherever you lived-before?"

Surely, she sounded like a blundering idiot the way her questions tumbled out one after another, but he'd forced her into this predicament with his impending kiss.

A gentle wind shook the trees, causing more leaves to break from brittle twigs and flutter to the ground. His chest heaved with a breathy chuckle. "You're a scamp, you know that?"

"Me?" She promptly put a little more space between them and gathered her wits. "If anyone's a scamp, it's you. You know very well Ralston's proposed to me. I can't-I wouldn't even think of..."

"Kissing me?"

"It wouldn't be appropriate, seeing as I'm already..."

`Already what? I don't see you wearing any token of commitment-like a ring or locket," he challenged. `Are you betrothed to him-officially?"

"Well-not in so many words,"

`Ah." Their eyes clashed for long seconds. "Is that because you're not ready, or because you're unsure about your feelings for him? Which is it?"

She tried to speak, but nothing came out, and she blamed her loss of words on shock at his surprising directness. He touched a finger to her nose. "Hannah, if my question has you that stumped, you shouldn't marry him, believe me."

She had an inexplicable sense that he spoke from experience.

"You have to know beyond a doubt that you're marrying for the right reasons and that you and God are in agreement."

"Now you sound like-Abbie." And everyone else.

He chuckled. "I like the way that girl thinks," Another long pause passed between them, his probing gaze stirring her emotions. "You have prayed about this, I presume."

Somehow, she hadn't expected words like these coming from the sheriff, but there they were, transparent and real. Lord, he truly is a man of faith.

"Yes." Had she? "I mean, I've tried to-I guess. But then, I wonder if I'm being selfish, praying for my own needs."

"Selfish?"

"Ralston is a good man," she said.

"I'm not arguing with you on that."

`And he's highly respected."

"I don't doubt it."

"He attends church with me every Sunday."

He rocked on his heels while she talked.

"He would always provide well for me, and he's-he's dependable."

"Whom are you trying to convince-me or you?"

That annoyed her. "You don't like him."

"I like him fine," he retorted, voice raised. He heaved a couple of long breaths and set his gaze on something overhead-a moving branch or a falling star? Suddenly, he shot her a piercing stare. "How does asking God for wisdom for your future equate to selfishness? Don't you know that God cares about every aspect of your life?"

As if he had the right, he reached up, snagged a lock of her curly hair, and twirled it around his finger. A chill ran the length of her, but she couldn't find the inner resources to step away from him.

"Would you say you care about the details of Jesse's life?" he asked.

Almost immediately, she got the point. "Of course."

"How much more your Heavenly Father wants to be a part of your life! Every aspect of it. It's not an imposition to Him when you ask for guidance."

They looked at each other, faces illuminated in the moonlight. A dog barked, a twig snapped, and, in the distance, faint sounds of twangy music coming from the saloons drifted on the cold, night breeze.

He hadn't yet dropped her lock of hair, and she was growing quite accustomed to the delicious chill his gentle tugging wrought. He gazed down at the top of her head. "I almost married once. For all the wrong reasons, mind you. She was a pretty thing, had me wrapped around her finger for the first while."

His admission nearly knocked her over. "What happened to change your mind?"

"I started seeing through her, realized her beauty didn't go much past her skin when she started asking about my father's money." His face brought forth a lazy smile. "She wanted to be certain she'd get a piece of the pie, you see, and was quite shocked to discover I wanted to make my own way, apart from my father's hard-earned money. Don't get me wrong, my dad's a generous man, and he'd give me the shirt off his back if he thought I needed it, but I don't. My parents raised my brother and sister and me to have strong Christian values and an honest work ethic. I've lived with much and with little, and I prefer the simpler life by far. When I saw Carolina's shallowness-learned she'd been faking her love for me, not to mention her Christian walk-well, let's just say it didn't take me a long time to renege on my marriage proposal." He chortled. "Looking back, it was a silly relationship. I praise God for helping me see the light. Well, I also gotta add some praise for my brother. He caught Carolina going through some papers on my father's desk when she thought no one else was home."

"Oh my!"

He grinned and gave his head a gentle toss. "We'd just returned from a picnic and I was rubbing down the horses. She said she was thirsty and needed a drink, so I sent her in the house. Turns out she was thirsty for information instead."

In some peculiar way, Hannah almost felt empathy for this woman. Her own father's success had resulted in a certain level of affluence for the Kane family, and she realized she'd become accustomed to creature comforts. Not that they swam in money, but poverty simply didn't exist in their world, and she'd grown accustomed to the security of prosperity. It impressed her that Gabriel Devlin chose to walk away from a carnal life of materialism.

She pondered this thought in private until he blew out a loud breath. "Well, I guess you weren't expecting a big confession out of me, but there you have it, and all because I wanted to make the point that you better know for sure you're marrying for all the right reasons, and that they align with God's will for your life." There it was again, that question of finding God's perfect will. How did one go about it?

Behind Gabe's broad shoulders, she noted the cats darting off across the road again, their distant yowl combining with the rustling breeze. To her dismay, she realized she'd memorized his woody scent, as even now it wafted through the air, a mixture of musk and mint. Ralston's scent was usually spicy, applied to the point of overpowering. Gabe's was subtle and earthy.

They stood close in the brisk, breezy night, her long skirts whipping at her ankles, fine shards of moonlight reflecting off the brim of Gabe's hat. She held his warm, woolen coat closed at her throat and felt pleasantly comfortable.

"Come on. Let's sit on the porch swing a while," He put a hand to her elbow and gently led her up the steps.

"Oh, I shouldn't,"

"Of course, you should. Besides, you asked me some yet unanswered questions about my family and former job, remember?"

Oh, well, he had her there. He brushed past her to take a gander through the front window. "Jesse's sound asleep on the couch," he whispered. "Look at that boy, would you?"

She sidled up next to him to peer through the glass. Sure enough, Jesse lay still as a fallen log, Grandmother's handmade quilt thrown over him, a lone light glowing in the kitchen and casting a peaceful aura about the house.

"You can let him stay here for the night if you want. Seems a shame to disturb him,"

"I better not. He'll need me if he has a nightmare."

She glanced up to find him watching the boy intently, and she took the opportunity to study his profile-the straight plane of his nose and forehead, now overshadowed by his hat; his rigid cheekbones and strong mouth; the broad set of his shoulders. Ah, there went that silly heart-tripping thing again.

As if sensing her watchful gaze, Gabe granted her a wistful smile. "I never thought I'd grow so attached to that boy."

"But you have. What do you think will happen to him-if you don't find his family, I mean?" Ralston's suggestion of the orphanage continued to grate at the edges of her mind.

"He'll stay with me." He straightened to his full six-footsomething frame and pulled her to the swing on the other side of the porch.

"Really? You've already decided that?" He'd said it with such matter-of-factness.

He swept an arm out in silent invitation. Fascinated, she dropped into the swing without argument. Gabe cozied in beside her, removed his hat, and tossed it across the porch, aiming for the rocker, hooking it easily over a spindle. "Well, it's not something I'm spreading around, mind you, but I sure won't send him anyplace unless someone steps forward to claim him. And whoever does had better be good and worthy."

With a touch of finesse, he pushed off with one foot. The familiar creak of rasping, rusted chain links rocked her into a peaceful state, and within minutes, she found herself relaxed, even with his arm situated behind her as it was, grazing the top of her shoulder.

"So, you still want to hear about my family?" he asked.

The soles of her shoes grazed the porch floor, while his stayed firmly planted, his wide thighs moving slightly with the swing's gentle sway. "Yes," she said, earnestly.

For the next several minutes, he told her about his home in Delaware, Ohio, where he'd not only grown up, but where his father held the office of county judge and his mother ran an efficient household. He spoke about his sister, Elizabeth, and her husband, Karl, a successful rancher and landowner, and their three children, all under the age of seven. Then came Samuel, Gabe's older brother by two years, a lawyer like his father. He'd married his high school sweetheart, Charlotte, and the two of them were busy raising Sarah, three, and Vance, one.

Without even meeting them, Hannah liked his family. Chagrined, she realized she knew very little about Ralston's upbringing, just that his family hailed from Vriesland, Michigan, not far from Holland, that his parents died in a train derailment two years ago, and that he had six older siblings, all married and scattered across the country, none of whom she'd met. He'd attended the University of Michigan Medical School, had done a one-year study in Berlin in 1897, and had turned down an invitation to accompany an expedition to the North Pole in 1898 as the group's physician in favor of starting his own practice in Sandy Shores. She had been formally introduced to him at a church supper in '01, but he hadn't asked to court her until this past spring. Naturally, she'd accepted, mesmerized that the town's only physician had paid her one minute's heed.

"To answer your question about where I worked before this, I was the Delaware County sheriff" Gabe cocked his head to one side and grinned. "Delaware's on the outskirts of Columbus, in case you're interested."

`And Columbus is the capital of Ohio," she said, smiling up at him.

A glimmer of moonlight cast a gentle glow over his arched brow. `Ah, I see you paid attention the day the teacher taught about states and capitals."

She flicked an imaginary piece of lint off her lap and grinned. "I'll have you know I was a good student who never gave my teachers an ounce of trouble."

"I find that hard to believe," he murmured.

She sent her elbow into his side for a swift poke, and he clutched the place with his free hand and leaned over with contrived pain. So relaxed had she become that she actually let the laughter flow when he reciprocated with a teasing poke of his own.

They sparred back and forth for a few seconds when, suddenly, he leaned forward and kissed her square on the lips. Drawing back, he paused to look at her, perhaps to gauge her level of shock, then, before she could resist, kissed her again, this time with thoroughness and feather-touching warmth, his breath fanning her face. His arms did not encircle her, but the hand that rested on the back of the swing came down to draw her close. Tingling heat wrapped her in a blanket of bliss.

Dear Jesus, help me, she prayed, even as she felt her body floating into some unnamed paradise.

But seconds later, paradise clashed with reality when the front door opened.

"Sweet land of liberty, what have we here?"

Hannah scrambled for composure, and, fast as one withdraws a hand from a hot flame, she made it to her feet, smoothing her dress, patting her hot cheeks, fixing her flyaway curls, and glaring at her younger sister.

"Abigail Ann, you were spying."

"No, I wasn't. I just came down to check on Jesse when I heard a noise."

"Well, everything's fine. Go back upstairs."

"What-and miss the fun?" She pulled her sleeping gown close at the throat and leaned in the door frame, mischief rampant in her brown-as-chocolate eyes.

Apparently, Gabe saw no reason for alarm, for he maintained his relaxed posture on the stilled porch swing, his legs stretched out to their full length and crossed at the ankles. He folded his arms and clutched his armpits.

"Does this mean we can kiss of Huffy g'bye?" Abbie asked.

"Abbie, I'm warning you," Hannah said,

"I'm just asking."

Gabe cleared his throat, "I'd say that's exactly what it means," His voice, though deep, rang crisp and clear with meaning.

Hannah sucked in a cavernous breath, puffed out her cheeks, and blew at her forehead. She pointed an accusing finger at Gabe. "You did that on purpose to manipulate me. You know very well I'm considering Ralston's proposal."

"Not anymore, you're not," His smile was every bit as intimate as the kisses they'd just shared.

A bristly chill scampered up her spine. Oh, how could things have moved so quickly from confusing, to wonderfully comfortable, to downright convoluted? And who did he think he was making such a forward statement in Abbie's presence-as if he held some claim to her? One kiss did not give him special rights-no matter that Ralston had yet to kiss her anywhere but on the cheek or forehead.