Not a Hero

by Cherise Sinclair

  Her gray eyes narrowed before she speared him with a look. “You…are an evil person. I felt so bad for doubting you.”

  “As you should.” He put his arm around her shoulders and leaned down to whisper, “Someday, I’ll earn your trust, Goldilocks.”

  Her unhappy sigh lifted and lowered her shoulders.

  Someday wasn’t today, apparently. Nonetheless, Gabe left his arm where it was, enjoying the contact.

  Amused, Caz quirked his eyebrows at Gabe before turning to Dante. “I explored the town building’s second floor today. The municipal offices are over the police station, but the rooms on the other side are locked. The rooms that are over my clinic.”

  “Ah, those. The blue-doored room is the small conference room. When you want to use it for staff meetings, reserve it by writing your name and times on the calendar. Regina has the key.” Dante leaned back in his chair. “Our library is behind the green door. It and the police station and health clinic all shut down at the same time.”

  Julie looked…appalled. “You had a library and let it close?”

  Gabe chuckled. She really was the nerd she called herself.

  “’Fraid so,” Dante said.

  Lillian smiled at Julie. “I’d forgotten about the library, and it was one of my favorite places. I used to read to the toddlers for children’s hour.”

  “It slipped my mind, too.” Dante scratched his bearded chin. “With the police and health offices open, the entire building has electricity and internet again. No reason not to open up the library.”

  “We could.” Lillian rose and started gathering plates. “If we could get it staffed.”

  As Gabe, Caz, and Julie took over clearing the table, Dante filled the dishwasher, and Lillian put away the leftovers.

  Julie cleared her throat. “I have a few hours I could work in the library.”

  “You know anything about libraries, missy?” Dante asked.

  She drew herself up proudly. “Of course. I have a Masters in—” Her mouth snapped shut. When her eyes met his, her shoulders hunched.

  Dante barked a laugh. “Too late, Julie. You have a Masters in…”

  “Probably Library Science,” Caz chimed in helpfully and caught a glare from gray eyes that made him grin.

  “Julie,” Gabe took her hand. “We all know you’re running from something. But we won’t share your information outside of this room.”

  Lillian, Dante, and Caz nodded agreement.

  When the color eased back into Julie’s face, Gabe wanted to pull her into his arms.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Want to wrangle the library?” Dante asked. “It’d be another part-time job for you. We can talk about giving you a budget to get the computers updated.”

  The joy that swept into her face was…stunning.

  And heartbreaking.

  For whatever reason, she’d left everything behind—including a career she loved.

  Well, if she couldn’t talk about whatever sent her here, then he’d simply do his best to help her build a new life here.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Coffee in hand, Gabe walked through the open door of the library and looked for Julie.

  She wasn’t in sight, although the huge room was filled with activity. Tucker and Guzman were painting the walls a steel blue. Uriah from the coffee shop was hooking up the three computers.

  Two women vacuumed the short steel-blue carpet. On a tall ladder, a man replaced florescent lights in the long ceiling fixtures. Women were dusting and vacuuming both the carpets and the old cobwebs in high corners.

  “Welcome to the library, Gabriel.” Off to the right, in the children’s corner, Lillian painted the window trim an off-white color.

  “The place looks good.” After Dante and Lillian had talked Julie into taking on the library a week ago, they’d ramrodded the okay through the council. At first, Gabe had helped with setting up the place, but the weather had warmed up, and he’d been occupied with increased tourist traffic and crime.

  “The room does look quite nice, doesn’t it? We’ve had a surprising amount of assistance.” The silver-haired, slender Brit motioned with her paintbrush at the people scattered through the big room. “I think we’ll be ready for the opening on Friday.”

  “Good to hear. So, is Julie here?”

  “Of course.” Lillian smiled. “I’m very impressed with her. She hasn’t neglected her gardening hours with me, Dante’s grocery, or at the roadhouse. Every free moment is spent in here.”

  “Hard worker.” Gabe wasn’t surprised.

  “She is. And honest, as well.”

  At Gabe’s quizzical look, Lillian shook her head. “When the council tried to turn the library funds over to her, she refused. She says that since we can’t check her references, it would be best if she makes out the orders for what she needs and has each order approved and paid at the time.”

  Gabe blinked. He hadn’t thought about her handling large amounts of money.

  Of course, the library would have operating funds. And Julie hadn’t told anyone her history. Apparently, Gabe wasn’t the only one who instinctively trusted her, despite her aversion to sharing.

  Lillian lowered her voice. “I don’t know what happened to her in the past. I do hope that someday she’ll let us help.”

  “She will.” She’d get help whether she shared or not. “Where is she?”

  “Somewhere back in the stacks. She’s making a list for updating the books.”

  Knowing better than to wander through bookshelves with drinks, Gabe set her coffee on the front counter and went in search.

  * * *

  Audrey frowned at her list and scratched another note. Until she knew what the residents liked to read, she’d have to keep her book purchases to a minimum. The inter-library loan program would help.

  She glanced at the electrician who was putting in more outlets. In today’s world, everyone had devices to be charged.

  The man gave her an interested look.

  With a cool, but friendly smile, she moved past. The last thing she needed was to start anything with a man.

  Well, with most men. Not when one man refused to get out of her head and out of her dreams.

  Even worse, Gabe worked downstairs. Every time she came into the municipal building, she felt her pulse pick up. Knew she was listening for the sound of his voice.

  He’d been the one to scrounge up a new printer for her. He’d fixed the broken tables in the research section.

  She hadn’t seen him for a couple days now. Wasn’t it odd how much she missed him?

  As if called, he appeared at the end of a row and walked silently toward her. Prowled toward her.

  The high bookshelves cut off some of the overhead light, leaving the aisles in twilight, casting shadows on his stern face.

  “There you are.” Pleasure lit his eyes. “I brought coffee for you.”

  “Really? That would be perfect.”

  He didn’t move, just smiled at her.

  She glanced down at herself. Shirt was buttoned, jeans were zipped, nothing remarkable. “What?”

  “You look…happy.” With a finger, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, leaving awareness tingling over her skin. “I don’t think I’ve seen you quite this content.”

  “I like libraries.” She breathed in his distinctive woodsy scent, wanting to lean closer. “Mother thought fiction was frivolous, and if I wanted to read, there were textbooks and college preparatory manuals.”

  “Fiction is frivolous?” Gabe frowned. “Before high school, you were able to indulge, right?”

  “No. But sometimes in English classes we studied classical literature.” She sighed, remembering the joy of Dickens and…even better…the Bronte sisters.

  Gabe looked around the library. “Ah. Libraries have fiction.”

  She grinned. He got it. “Exactly. If I had research to do, I’d have to visit a library. Then I’d finish my homework quickly enough that I co
uld curl up in a chair and read stories for the rest of the time.”

  There were entire worlds in which to escape.

  She realized she was smiling when Gabe traced a finger over her upturned lips.

  “A library is your happy place,” he murmured.

  “Yes. Always.” And the reason she’d gone into library science—so she could share her love with others. “I take it you don’t have the same fondness for book stacks?”

  His laugh was a low rumble. “No, Goldilocks. I didn’t see a library until college.”

  She stared at him. “But…where did you get your books?”

  “Everything came through the mail. Of course, Mako had a wall of books in the cabin.” He grinned. “His how-to-build and how-to-repair section was huge, and we learned early on to search out the proper way to perform a repair.” He grinned. “Mako didn’t care if we read fiction as long as the day’s work was done.”

  “It doesn’t seem right that your sergeant father was less restrictive than my mother.”

  “I’d have to agree.” His eyes changed. Hardened. “Are your parents … Mmm, do they know where you are? What’s going on?”

  He was trying to make sure she was all right without really asking, wasn’t he? His concern filled her with lightness. “There’s only Mother. I was artificially conceived.” The unhappiness she’d felt as a child when realizing she’d never know her father had diminished to a mild ache.

  She smiled slightly at Gabe’s startled expression. “She didn’t want to be bothered with a husband. Instead, she simply chose the smartest sperm donor in the manual or however it’s done.”

  “I see. And does your mother know where you are?”

  “No. We haven’t spoken in years, since I refused to follow in her footsteps and major in physics. She’s in Germany somewhere, I think.”

  Gabe frowned. “I’m sorry, but she sounds like a robot. The idea of you being deprived of fiction, something so essential to humans, bothers me.”

  “It wasn’t—”

  Putting two fingers under her chin, he tilted her head up and kissed her. Sheer shock silenced her.

  He made a low masculine sound and then pinned her against the shelving. He curved his big hand behind her head, threading his fingers in her hair, holding her for a long, devastating kiss.

  Every bone in her body turned to jelly. His other arm went around her waist, holding her up against him.

  Her arms stole around his neck, and as she wiggled closer, her breasts crushed against his muscular chest. He hardened.

  The sound of footsteps made him step back, and the electrician walked past.

  Gabe smiled down into her eyes as he used his thumb to wipe the moisture from her lower lip.

  “Gabe,” she whispered. Longing rushed through her, a desire to break down and tell him everything. To destroy all the barriers between them. “I can’t.” Can’t share, can’t be with you.

  “It’s all right, Goldilocks.” His midnight blue eyes conveyed infinite patience. He kissed her lightly again. “Don’t forget you have coffee on the counter.”

  As he walked silently back toward the front, she leaned against the bookshelves.

  Oh God, what was she going to do? The man had decided to hold off and wait for her to trust him.

  And oh, she wanted to.

  Chapter Eighteen

  On Friday, a week and a half after Lillian’s dinner, the library opened its doors. Well, door. Upstairs in the municipal building.

  Kneeling beside the shelves in the children’s section, Audrey sighed in pleasure. It didn’t matter if the library was merely a big room of book stacks and a tiny office behind the checkout desk.

  The essentials were here.

  The computer section—a table with three computers. The research section—a few tables with folding chairs. A children’s area holding tiny tables for children with bigger chairs for mothers. Armchairs near the periodical racks for quiet reading.

  Speaking of which, she needed to get the periodical subscriptions restarted.

  Yes, the library was small. But it was hers.

  She’d never felt so pleased or so possessive about any library she’d worked in before.

  The entire town had helped her get it open—especially Gabe.

  She shook her head. He was driving her crazy. Seriously crazy.

  He’d run upstairs with coffee and her favorite cookies or pastries, then stay and simply talk. Like friends. About fishing and hiking, about some of the police work he’d done that day, although he never gave her names or specifics. They’d talk about whatever work she was doing for a client.

  She knew he wanted her—and wasn’t that simply amazing?—yet, he smothered his desire enough that she never felt pressured. He didn’t ask her out or try to see her anywhere but in public.

  The jerk. Now, she was past ready to knock him over the head and rip all his clothes off.

  Ah, well. She was the one who’d said no to him more than once. It was up to her to change that to yes.

  Why did the world have to be so complicated?

  For now, though, it was opening day at the library.

  Two people were already at the computers. Three were browsing the stacks.

  Behind Audrey in the children’s section, Sarah sat in an oversized armchair with her daughter on her lap, reading a book the girl had chosen.

  Audrey grinned as she found the book she’d been looking for—The Cat in the Hat.

  Still on her knees, she turned and handed over the book. “You might try this one. It’s perfect for someone who can sound out short words.”

  “I had this when I was a child,” Sarah said. Her eyes filled.

  “Sarah?”

  “I’m all right.” The coffee shop owner wiped the tears away. “Just hormones. And happiness. You see, Rachel won’t be an only child in a few more months.”

  Aww. “Congratulations. And congratulations to you, too, Rachel.”

  The little girl wiggled in delight. “I’m going to be a big sister. And we have to pick out names, boy and girl names, just the right ones. What’s your name?”

  “Audr—” God, what was she saying? “Uh, Julie. My name is Julie.” Turning, she pushed to her feet—and realized that Gabe and the other law enforcement officer stood on the other side of the hip-high bookshelves.

  From the narrowing of Chief MacNair’s eyes, the two men had heard her slip-up.

  Eff-it-all.

  * * *

  Her name started with Audr. Gabe smiled, enjoying the dismayed expression on “Julie’s” face. Nice of her to give him a clue.

  “Good day, gentlemen,” she greeted politely…and fled toward the back.

  Poor lost sweetheart. Now, what could the rest of her name be? He’d known a girl named Audra. Audre, maybe? Audria, Audris. No, probably just Audrey. It suited her quiet nature far more than the name Julie. Audrey. Yeah.

  “Sounds as if she’s using an assumed name.” Baumer frowned after her.

  “Maybe. She sure wouldn’t be the first person in Alaska to leave her past behind. Or maybe she’s a woman who likes to switch it up now and then. My ex went through a spate of spelling her name in different ways.” Gabe half-grinned. “Got so I never knew what to use when I left her a note.”

  Baumer snickered. “Women. They can’t—”

  “What are you doing?” Filled with anger, Julie’s voice echoed off the walls. “Stop!”

  What the hell? Gabe stepped around Baumer and headed for the back in time to spot Knox heading toward the exit. “Hold up there, Knox.”

  The man realized he was caught and stopped. He spotted Julie, and his shoulders actually slumped.

  “You.” Her flushed face held an impressive fury. “What were you thinking? How could you do that to a book?” She sounded like a priest seeing someone spit on the altar.

  “What’d he do?” Gabe interposed himself between Knox and the door.

  “He was ripping pages out of books. I found two mor
e that he destroyed. Why?” The last word was practically a wail.

  Knox stared as if shocked by her anger and distress. He shuffled his feet before throwing his shoulders back. “Don’t want a liberry here. No need for it. It’s a waste of my tax money to buy a bunch of useless stories.”

  “A library has more than just stories. The books help you decide where to go on vacation or how to start a business. You can come here to use the internet, read newspapers, and borrow movies and audiobooks. A library serves everyone in the community.” The way her eyes lit with passion, Gabe knew this was her place. Her niche.

  “It doesn’t serve me.” Knox’s gaze caught on something behind Gabe, and he flinched. “Nobody asked me if I wanted a liberry.”

  Gabe turned to glance over his shoulder. A teen and an older man sat at the computers. Baumer stood behind the teen, looking at the display.

  Breaking into Knox’s rant, Gabe said quietly, “You gave me your word.”

  The words stopped Knox as thoroughly as if Gabe’d swung a 2x4. The man’s face turned the red of his hair. “I did. I just…just got mad. Payin’ out good money for something I can’t even—”

  His abrupt stop left Gabe confused, but Julie’s expression filled with comprehension and, then, sympathy. She stepped closer to Knox, her voice low. “You can’t read.”

  “I can, too.” Knox glared…and deflated. “I can’t. Can’t even fake it anymore now my wife’s gone.”

  Well, hell. Gabe frowned. Sending the man to prison wouldn’t solve anything. But Knox had broken his word and—”

  “I’ll pay for the books I ruined,” Knox said.

  “Yes,” Julie said firmly. “And you’ll meet with me here for two hours twice a week.”

  Knox gaped. “For how long?”

  “Until you’ve learned to read.”

  When hope lit in Knox’s eyes, Gabe knew the librarian had won.

  A few minutes later, Gabe headed downstairs to the police station.

  Baumer followed him. “That’s a pretty woman. The librarian, I mean.”

  “She is.” Beautiful. Brilliant. And, unloved as a child. Her mother hadn’t let her read fiction. He still had problems with that. Maybe because novels had been essential to surviving the long Alaska winters in Mako’s cabin.