Someone To Watch Over Me (Harlequin Super Romance) (6 page)

After making sure she wasn’t going to collapse on him, Gabe Poston relieved Isabella of most of her burden. The mere feel of her skin left his heart pounding like a kettledrum. He took his time answering. “I live here,” he finally got out. “Well, for the time being. These are no lightweight boxes. Where’s that cart you said you use in town?”

“For a big cake. These are sandwiches for a group of hungry apple growers who’ll stampede out that door any minute headed for the rest room in the main building.” She was babbling, something she rarely did. “My goal is to deposit this load inside the conference room before I’m mowed down in the rush.”

Gabe straightened the stack, which he’d shifted to one hand so he could open the door. “Which room? A or B?”

“B,” she said in a tone indicating she neither wanted or needed his assistance. But he barged in without knocking. Isabella knew she’d have knocked first and then been made to wait while the meeting wound down.

Rollie Danville, the man seated at the back of the room actually appeared to welcome their intrusion. Most of the others remained attentive to the speaker.

Rollie wore typical farmer’s garb. Bibbed denim overalls and plaid flannel shirt. He drew out his wallet as he approached them. Then, not wanting to disturb his colleagues, he motioned her and Gabe outside.

“Thanks, Rollie.” She accepted the check he handed her without looking at the amount. “I have more lunches in the van. And a cooler full of soft drinks. How’s the meeting going? Are apple prices up or down this season?”

“Up,” he said with a smile. “Your brother Rick is a good haggler. He negotiated well for us at the buyers’ bidding in Wenatchee. We should’ve elected him three years ago. Do you need a hand carrying the cooler before we break?” His gaze strayed to Gabe even as he posed the question.

Gabe stepped forward. “I’m Gabe Poston.” He re
turned Rollie’s handshake. “I’ll bring the cooler in for Isabella.”

“You’re the SOS money man? I thought you looked familiar. Someone pointed you out at Summer Marsh’s wedding. You fellows dickering on another one of our local ranches?” The door behind them opened, and as Isabella had predicted, a stream of men poured out, all hotfooting it toward the lobby.

She’d turned back to the van intending to collect another load. Interested in Gabe’s reply, she slowed her steps.

He laughed openly. “News travels. I met with a man this morning who wants to sell his place. This deal is strictly personal and has nothing to do with SOS.”

Rollie stuck out his hand again. “So I guess a ‘welcome, neighbor’ is in order.”

“Not quite.” Gabe didn’t accept Rollie’s hand this time. “I made an offer. I expect he’ll counter. Excuse me, sir. I said I’d help Isabella.” Leaving Danville, Gabe rushed over to Isabella’s van.

“I’m used to making deliveries alone. Don’t let me keep you from more pressing business.”

“You’re not.” Ignoring her prickly attitude, Gabe lifted out the heavy cooler.

They unloaded in silence until the van stood empty. Once the last boxed lunch had been deposited inside the conference room, Isabella returned to the sunshine and, with a shade less reticence, thanked Gabe for his assistance.

He shrugged, dropping his sunglasses over his eyes. He casually tucked his thumbs under the leather belt circling his narrow hips as he said, “It’s straight-up noon. Even shopkeepers have to eat. Let me buy you lunch?”

“Why?” Isabella pulled her head out of the van. She’d reached inside to the passenger seat to rearrange the flowers Trini had bought. They were belted in to steady the cans.

“Because we both have to eat.”

“I can’t. I have…an important…ah, errand.” Her gaze veered again to the bouquets. Unconsciously she fingered the points on a pinwheel.

“To the cemetery? I’ll ride along and keep the flowers from tipping over.”

Isabella licked her dry lips and dug in her purse for her sunglasses. She put them on, then raised them again to study this man—a near-stranger who offered to do what even her family shied away from. There was still no sign of pity on his face, nor any in his tone.

“I promise I won’t crowd you once we get there,” he said softly. “It’s not a journey anyone should have to make alone.”

Unable to get a word past the sudden lump in her throat, Isabella tried three times to step up into the van. It wasn’t until she felt Gabe’s cool fingers latch firmly onto her elbow that she felt a hairline crack in her tightly banded control. She managed a simple nod. If he saw her response, fine. If not, she’d make the trip on her own.

But Gabe did see. And he noticed how ragged her nerves were. Quickly rounding the vehicle, he unbuckled and lifted the cans. He sat and closed the door. If asked, he couldn’t have said why he was sticking his neck out. Any moment he expected to have his head lopped off.

A
T FIRST
, Gabe Poston’s presence in the van set Isabella’s teeth on edge. She’d made the drive to the cemetery so often over the past ten months that each winding turn in the road was indelibly stamped on her brain. Normally, she drove in silence, needing the time to prepare herself for a visit that never got any easier.

Isabella especially didn’t feel like chitchatting with a man she barely knew.

But they’d driven a mile and Gabe hadn’t spoken a word. He didn’t toy with the flowers he held on his lap, nor did he fidget like Isabella’s brothers were prone to do. Up until a few weeks ago, by tacit agreement forged out of her hearing, the family always discreetly freed up one member to make this trip with her. Today, even before Trini had backed out, she’d been determined to go alone.

But, if truth be known, she wasn’t ready. It was comforting to have someone with her, sharing the lonely journey.

“Less than a handful of people would do what you’re doing,” she said unexpectedly, her voice hoarse.

“Holding flowers doesn’t seem like such a hard job.”

“You know what I meant. It’s fairly obvious you know a whole lot more about me than I do about you.”

Gabe turned slightly, resting his back against the door. “I’m thirty-eight.
Just,
” he felt compelled to add. “At the moment, I handle closings on land acquisitions for a non-governmental agency, Save Open Spaces. I have no family to speak of. I find this area…” He paused, as if unable to find the proper word.

“Interesting? Picturesque?”

“Partly. It’s difficult to put into words.”

“Try harsh, moody or erratic. Unless you’ve never spent a winter here.”

“I came last winter to wind up the custodial deal on Summer’s ranch. But winter storms aren’t new to me. I own a condo in Sun Valley.”

“Oh. Then why aren’t you there? Why are you here? And don’t say again that it’s to hold my flowers.”

Gabe twisted his lips to the side, chewing absently on the inside of his cheek. “Honestly? I don’t know,” he said after a lapse.

His answer threw Isabella for a moment. “You told Rollie Danville you’d made an offer on land. Is your agency fighting off another developer?”

“In other states. Not here. Now, enough about me. Tell me about you.”

Isabella immediately clammed up.

Gabe saw how fast her interest had fled. He watched her slender fingers flex repeatedly as she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. A private person himself, Gabe respected that right in others.

Shifting in his seat, he again gazed out on the landscape that slid rapidly past. It had been an unusually long, cold winter according to Colt’s wife, who’d lived in the area all her life. Now spring seemed ready to erase the last traces of snow. The deciduous trees were sprouting new growth. Tender, lime-colored tufts of
needles formed on struggling young pines. But a cold wind still blew out of the north.

Isabella rounded a bend in the climbing road, and buttercups lent a splash of color to a meadow off to Gabe’s right. He barely had time to appreciate the dappling of afternoon sunshine when Isabella made a hard left and braked the van. An underlying tension raised the fine hairs on his neck.

“We’re almost there,” she informed him.

He’d visited a few cemeteries in his thirty-eight years. After his mom’s, most were military burials. Arlington, Calverton in New York, and Hawaii’s so-called Punch Bowl. All were rolling green hills intersected with rows of white crosses as far as the eye could see. Very formal, but gut-twisting all the same. Gabe didn’t know what to expect of the spot he was about to see. Nor did he know what to expect of the woman seated next to him. He’d comforted a few widows. Wives of buddies lost in the Gulf War. He liked to think he’d understood their grief and their need to grieve in different ways. At the very least, he thought Isabella would get teary simply being here.

She didn’t. He watched her slowly steel herself before she climbed down from the van.

Gabe started to open his door.

“Stay,” she said, reaching across her seat for the two bouquets he held. He felt the cans leave his nerveless fingers.

“Let me carry them for you.”

“I’ve got them.” She bent and picked up a trowel and another sack. “If you’d care to grab some fresh air, it’s a short walk to a stream that follows the base of this hill. It flows through that stand of cotton
woods.” She inclined her head ever so slightly to the south.

Gabe remained focused on her stark white face. If it had crossed his mind a moment ago to accompany her regardless of her protests, that thought died. She was hanging on to a fragile composure. But she
was
hanging on.

He released his breath. His fumbling fingers found the door latch, and he felt it give way. The next time he was in a position to see Isabella, it was only a view of her too-thin frame as she trudged up a grassy knoll. At the very top stood a pine tree whose bottom branches spread wide. Gabe figured the tree had to be a century old. Who knew, really, how long it had stood guard over the loved ones entrusted to its care?

From the hodgepodge of headstones, this looked to be an old cemetery. The pine served as a focal point. A solid, reassuring sentinel.

Suddenly feeling every bit the outsider he was, Gabe jammed his hands in his pockets and meandered in the direction of the stream.

The minute he crossed the gravel road and stepped into the shade afforded by willowy cottonwoods, his breath caught in his throat. Standing opposite him, across the stream, two elk lifted dripping muzzles and froze in place. Man and wild beasts gaped at one another for what seemed to Gabe like longer than the split second it probably was. The larger of the two elk blinked, then of one accord their hindquarters bunched, and both disappeared upstream into thick underbrush.

Rarely had Gabe been treated to such a heart-stopping sight. It struck him hard then. This was where he belonged. He’d done the right thing tendering an
offer on a very overpriced property within ten miles of this stream.

Time drifted as Gabe absorbed the sights, sounds and odors around him. His training in military special ops had helped cultivate senses the vast majority of people no longer relied on for survival. Those same keen senses let him appreciate nature’s bounty—and had him crouching and spinning almost before Isabella set foot in the copse of trees.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, her voice husky, possibly because Gabe’s fierce expression alarmed her.

He relaxed instantly, all sign of his panther-like stealth dissolved. “I saw two elk. One with fuzzy antlers, one without.” His joy was reflected in his wide smile.

“Elk? Probably not, city boy. Not this low in the hills. It’s too late in the season. Any elk herds would’ve moved on to higher feeding grounds by now. It was probably someone’s range cattle gone astray.”

“Who are you calling
city boy?
I can tell an elk from a cow, I’ll have you know.”

Tilting her head to one side, Isabella let herself really look at him for the first time. Oh, she’d given him a fast inspection at Summer’s reception. Now she studied him feature by feature. Broad shoulders. Solid chest. Flat stomach hidden by a knit, short-sleeved shirt. Narrow hips still encased in slacks rather than blue jeans. And polished loafers, mud-spattered from his recent trek.

“You look like a city boy of the highest order,” she said without inflection.

“Looks can be deceiving.” Although as the words fell from Gabe’s lips, he doubted their truth, especially
in Isabella’s case. With her ravaged, empty eyes, she looked like hell. He’d wager that assessment was pretty accurate.

“They were elk,” he said with firm assurance. “I take it you’re ready to drive back to town?”

“Yes.” She turned to lead the way. A hundred or so yards upstream, near a bend where sprinkles of sunlight filtered through the trees, Gabe’s two elk lumbered out of the trees, as if on cue. Coats dark against the backdrop of gray trunks, they lowered their magnificent heads to drink from the stream. Isabella stopped on a dime. She drew in a deep breath of awe and grabbed Gabe’s arm to keep him from stepping on a broken branch that lay in their path. For several seconds they stood beside each other. Their shoulders might have even brushed.

“Your range cows,” he murmured so close to her ear that his warm breath sent a shiver up Isabella’s spine. The pale skin beneath her fringe of bangs wrinkled faintly as she frowned at him. The slight turn brought her lips into very close proximity with his smooth-shaven cheek. Flustered, she jerked her hand back, and quickly took two giant steps away from Gabe.

Her foot landed squarely on the branch. Its crack in the quiet glade sounded as sharp as if a rifle had fired. Once more the elk bounded into the thicket.

When Gabe tore his eyes from the spot where the animals had been, Isabella had widened the gap between them. In fact, she’d moved into the clearing, head down and steps determined. He had to run to catch up.

In normal circumstances, Gabe would have needled her until she verbally acknowledged that he’d indeed
seen an elk. The minute he noticed the array of headstones fanning out beyond the silhouette of the van, he was reminded that no relationship with this woman could be classified as normal. He watched her climb inside the van, then walked slowly to the passenger door.

But again she surprised him. He felt her gaze on him the whole time it took him to buckle his seat belt.

Her voice somewhat muffled by the growl of the van’s engine, Isabella said, “I’ll retract my hasty judgment of you, Poston. You may dress like a city boy, but you do know an elk from a range cow.”

“Thank you. I hope it didn’t cost you too much to admit that.”

She didn’t bother to respond.

As she jockeyed the van around a small graveled area in order to head back down the narrow road, Gabe pressed his nose to the side window to see where she’d placed the two bouquets. He spotted them right before she succeeded in completing her turn. Three-fourths of the way up the hillside, not quite in the shade cast by the big pine, two splotches of bright color jumped out at him. The flowers were small, nestled in the middle of a double headstone. On either side of the stone, two tall pinwheels whirled in the breeze. One blurred in shades of red, white and blue. The other spun out every color of the rainbow.

Queasy without warning, Gabe shut his eyes, and kept them shut until he felt the hot pressure behind his eyelids abate. Totally shaken, he was amazed to realize that Isabella showed no sign of crying. Or maybe she had no tears left. He knew she wasn’t without feelings. The ever-present bleakness in her eyes couldn’t hide the truth. So how did she cope? What was Isabella
Navarro all about? More than ever, Gabe wanted to stick around and find those answers.

Opening his eyes, he saw his breath had steamed the cooler window glass.

“That drop-off on your right isn’t as steep as you might think,” she said, completely misreading why his forehead remained against the window. “I’ve been navigating these country roads since I was sixteen, in case you’re worried that I’ll send us over a cliff.”

Gabe swallowed hard several times. “No, ah…I noticed the pinwheels.”

Sorrow washed over Isabella, leaving her pupils dilated wide. “Papa used to buy them for his grandchildren at the county fair,” she said haltingly. “My nieces and nephews broke theirs within days. Toni and Ramon loved…the colors. They took such good care of them.”

Gabe touched her face. A gentle tracing of one finger against her cheek. She seemed to understand it wasn’t sexual but meant to connect him to her grief. She was able to regroup and concentrate on her driving when his hand fell to his lap.

Nothing else of a personal nature passed between them on the drive back to the Inn. And darned few generalities, either, Gabe thought after she pulled up and stopped in almost the exact place they’d stumbled upon each other shortly before noon.

Neither one of them quite knew what to say when it came time to part. It hadn’t been the kind of journey he could thank her for. In silence Gabe opened his door and prepared to exit.

After a brief awkward moment, she took matters into her hands. “I appreciated your company,” she said, not fully meeting his eyes. “I didn’t expect to, but…well, I did.”

Gabe dug into his reserve for a lightness he didn’t feel. “I owe you. If I hadn’t invited myself along, I would’ve missed the elk. I’d like to repay you by taking you to dinner. Tonight,” he clarified.

“Not necessary,” she said, clearly impatient now to be on her way.

He shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d accept. Take care,” he said quietly. “I’ll see you around.” Stepping to the ground, he carefully closed his door, then deliberately set out for his room. Which was where he’d been going when he’d run into Isabella. Two hours ago, he saw now as he glanced at his watch.

I
SABELLA DROVE AWAY
, her mind jumbled with thoughts of the man she’d just dropped off. Gabe Poston must have gotten his fill of her on the drive. He’d taken no for an answer easily enough this time. But was it any wonder?

In any event it made him the opposite of Julian, who used to push and push and push until she agreed to go out with him. That ought to have been her first clue that Julian Arana would turn out to be far too possessive.

Flipping back through memories she’d spent months trying to block, Isabella admitted the signs were there from the outset of their relationship. Because they’d grown up together, she’d dismissed many of the traits that had ultimately become problems in their marriage. A siren should have gone off in her head when Julian convinced her folks not to let her go away to college. She’d always dreamed of owning a bakery and catering service, but she’d planned to get her degree in business first. It was Julian who convinced his papa to ante up seed money for the store. Julian had never let her forget
it was a debt she owed him. Now his parents made that point around town.

Thank heavens Trini did get the degree Isabella longed for. Now, whenever she could grab an extra minute, Isabella picked her sister’s brain; she also studied her business textbooks. That way, when Trini finished her Master’s and left the bakery for other pursuits, the business would sit on a firm foundation. With careful bookkeeping, maybe she could repay the elder Aranas one day.