Gabriel's Lady (Leisure Historical Romance)

by Charlotte Hubbard

  “Oh, Gabe,” she murmured. “What a difficult thing for a small boy—”

  “He sounded peaceful about it. Said she’d been coughing so hard she’d brought up blood the last couple of weeks—”

  “Consumption, probably.”

  “—so he understood that she was out of her pain. He talks to her. Feels her presence very clearly, especially when he’s there at the house.” He sighed when he caught sight of the two-story structure; it didn’t look any more inspiring in the afternoon sunlight than it had this morning, shrouded by clouds. “I got the key from the director of the orphanage. If-if you don’t feel comfortable here, I’ll understand. I know a move into town will be difficult, after spending your life at the—”

  “Let’s go in,” she whispered. “No sense in second-guessing our doubts, is there?”

  “You’re right.” He smiled wryly and put on the brake. “But then, that’s usually the case, isn’t it?”

  The careworn furnishings in the Carpenter house might have been second-hand before they came here. Solace walked slowly through the downstairs rooms, looking beyond the dust and cobwebs…allowing herself to imagine how Charlie’s childhood must have been, especially after his daddy died. Amelia and Steven Carpenter had lived so modestly…so meagerly, she wondered how they’d afforded this large home. But she sensed they’d been happy here. Blessed by Charlie’s birth.

  Had he been left alone while his mother worked? Had he been scared of monsters beneath that sideboard with the griffins carved into its legs? Was this the rocking chair where his mama sang him to sleep? The lamp he’d learned to read by?

  The table in the dining room had odds and ends piled on it…the carpet runner was worn through to the plank floor in spots. Dishes in the kitchen’s dry sink suggested Charlie might’ve spent a few days here by himself before the undertaker informed the orphanage about him. As her hand trailed up the banister dulled with dust, Solace felt very attuned to others who’d climbed these stairs…those who’d once loved Charlie dearly and had hated to leave him behind.

  “Oh, my,” she murmured as she entered the room at the top of the steps. “Amelia died here. I can feel it.”

  “Me, too.” Gabe let out the breath he’d been holding, looked around at the crowded bookshelves…a wooden Chinese checker board set up on the floor, left unplayed. The bed was unmade and the top sheet was bloodstained. “Do you suppose she was in his bed, and he was caring for her? This is the room he pointed to as his.”

  “No doubt about it,” Solace whispered.

  “I—it’s entirely up to you, whether we live here. I’ll think of a way to explain it to Charlie, if you feel uncomfortable or—” He raked his hand through his hair. Was it the stuffiness of a house too long unaired, or were memories of too much death closing in on him? Gabe felt compelled to leave, to go outside immediately, yet he didn’t want to rush Solace. He felt silly, having this sudden sensation come over him.

  “Take all the time you need,” he said in a tight voice. “I’ll be outside checking the porches. Thought I saw some rotten wood in the stairs.”

  “I’ll be down in a minute. I really want to see that swing in the garden, you know.” Solace smiled at him. The curls he’d rumpled stuck straight up, as though he’d seen a ghost.

  And maybe he had.

  She waited for the sound of his retreating footsteps to fade at the bottom of the stairs. “What are you saying, Daddy? That after all these years of our little talks, you’ve shown yourself to Gabe but not to me?”

  Soft laughter echoed in the small bedroom, but it sounded gentle. Like a father reassuring his child there were no spooks in the armoire. I never had to show myself, honey. You believed without seeing.

  “I felt your presence,” she replied with a nod. “I knew you were my father from the time you first came to my cradle.”

  And I’m about to leave you. At least in the way you’ve known me.

  Air rushed from her lungs and Solace glanced frantically around the dim room. It seemed to spin with an energy she couldn’t describe. She had the urge to throw open a window, to get some air—except that would bring Gabe running to see what was wrong. “What do you mean, you’re about to— but I’ve always depended on your guidance, Daddy! Where would I be without it?”

  Right here. Carrying out your purpose with a child who longs to share his heart and soul with you. It was the same way for me when Billy and his sister showed up, and for your mother when Lily was left at her door in a basket. He paused to let these new concepts sink in. Nice story about running your daddy’s ranch, by the way. Charlie loved it.

  “But—but I don’t understand why you can’t keep on—”

  Sometimes we aren’t meant to understand. Sometimes we must simply believe. “Trust and obey, for there’s no other way”—like the hymn says.

  “But who’ll I talk to when—”

  Figure it out.

  Solace stuck her clenched fist onto her hip. “Now what kind of answer is that? It’s not like you have other daughters to—”

  It’s your turn to care for the children, Solace, and I’ve brought you one. If you look closely into his eyes—if you love Charlie the way I love you—you’ll know what to do. You can always go to God for help. Or to Michael, who’s been a wonderful father in my place.

  The whirling of the room’s invisible cyclone slowed until the sensation of movement ceased. She once again stood alone in a little boy’s bedroom. A room that bespoke heartache and loss, but a never-ending love, as well. Was it the room that held special power because Amelia Carpenter had passed on here? Or had these revelations come from Daddy through her because their time had arrived?

  No wonder that little boy insisted on living here….

  And if Charlie Carpenter was attuned to his deceased mama the way she’d known Daddy, dead before she was even born, well…she and that little boy shared something very special. A miracle—a guiding love light—like most folks never knew.

  “We haven’t met yet, Amelia, but I promise to take good care of your boy,” she whispered as she gazed at the ceiling.

  A warmth surrounded her. She felt someone smile.

  Twinkling with her new purpose, Solace went downstairs to get a yes out of Gabe.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  When Gabe settled into the swing, he knew everything would work out. Its white paint had faded, but the wood remained strong, and the chains made a comforting creak each time he swung forward. The fragrance of lilacs, both lavender and white, enveloped him in a sweet dream in which he saw Solace sitting here with him of an evening to share her day’s events and listen to his.

  Life would be good here. Fresh paint and rugs and curtains would bring this home to life again….

  But what’s taking her so long? Maybe she’s torn between accepting this home and crushing Charlie’s hopes…or she can’t leave her horses behind…or she resents the way I presented this as an open-and-shut case.

  Gabe’s heart fluttered anxiously—or were those her footsteps? Before he could think up a rebuttal to her protests, Solace appeared on the back porch. She paused there, leaning against a white pillar to take in the garden and the fenced backyard. Her eyes looked wide and her expression held an ethereal otherworldliness he’d never seen before.

  Did she see problems, or possibilities? Had he made a huge mistake, assuming she’d look at this place through the eyes of love—through Charlie Carpenter’s eyes?

  Solace stepped down from the porch as though the swing drew her like a magnet. She pinched off a white lilac bloom and twirled it in front of her nose…inhaled deeply as she closed her eyes.

  She was stunning, and completely unaware of it. So fresh: elegant in her simplicity. Again Gabe studied her whimsical curls; Solace Monroe wore such an unconventional style to great advantage. She had a talent for turning the unfashionable into a positive attribute.

  When she opened her eyes to gaze at him above the white flower, she looked for all the world like a b
ride with her bouquet. Pure and virginal. Yet when she settled against the far end of the swing to bat her long lashes at him, she became the world’s biggest flirt.

  Gabe knew he’d better navigate this tricky situation before she refuted all his best points. Solace Monroe loved a good contest of wits and wills, and she could corner him with her insightful logic—or, failing that, with a kiss. If she tried that tactic, he was a goner.

  “What’s your honest opinion of this place, Solace?” he asked as his hand stole toward hers. “I know it needs some attention, but—”

  “Oh, that doesn’t bother me!” she replied serenely. “The Malloys and the Bristols would make short work of the painting and repairs, like we did when Billy reclaimed his home place. They’d consider it a wedding present. If there is one.”

  Gabe’s throat went dry. “A wedding or a present?”

  One expressive eyebrow rose. “Figure it out.”

  Figure it out? How did she know about his earlier conversation…which may or may not have been real? He licked his lips, knowing what should happen next. It wasn’t as though he’d never done this. Wasn’t as though he didn’t mean what he needed to say to this woman. And this was the perfect time, the perfect place….

  He was perfectly mute. Speechless.

  Solace eyed him sideways. “What do you suppose Charlie’s doing?” she asked coyly.

  “Charlie! How can you talk about Charlie at a time like this?”

  “Like you insisted on talking about him all the way into town?” Her lips gave a funny little smile. “So what do you…propose we talk about, Gabe?”

  Oh, she was asking for it! He slid to the center of the swing but stopped short of touching her—physically, at least. His eyes burned into hers. “It was one thing to tell me how to deal with Letitia’s memory—”

  “Let’s not talk about her, either.”

  “—but if you think you can have all the say-so about when—”

  Solace silenced him with the tip of her lilac blossom. It tickled his lips and teased him with a heady scent that made him inhale deeply.

  “Will you marry me, Gabe?” she whispered.

  Just like that. No fuss or flurry.

  He released his breath, marveling at those steadfast brown eyes…at the dimple that twinkled beside her lips. He wove his fingers between hers. Moved the lilac away from his mouth.

  “I should tell you no, out of principle and propriety,” he murmured, “but I don’t have the heart to tease you that way.”

  “You find me bullheaded, yet irresistible.”

  “Yes, I do, Solace.”

  “You’ve found me a home and a special child, so—”

  Gabe slipped his fingers into her soft curls and kissed her until they both surrendered to elemental need…the physical and emotional connection of lips. She giggled, pressing harder to torment him, but Gabe held steady. He moved his mouth slowly and surely until Solace surrendered to his rhythm…followed his lead as willingly as he would always follow hers.

  “You’re the lady I can’t live without,” he whispered. “So yes, sweet Solace, we’ll make this our home, and Charlie will be the start of our family—if you’ll marry me, that is.”

  Her grin did indescribable things to him. “Couldn’t have said it better myself,” she quipped. Her fingertip traced his lips. “I-I’m not used to handing over the reins, but for you, I’ll do my best—once in a while, anyway. I fell in love with you at your first wedding, you know…when you asked me to dance. When you made me feel special for who I was.”

  He sighed at the memory of that day, and that dance. Gabe said good-bye to the woman who’d been a slave to convention and a silver flask as he again kissed Solace, the most unconventional woman he’d ever met. Not a single doubt lingered this time. She made him so happy!

  It was a match made in heaven and sanctified by angels. Who was he to defy celestial intervention?

  Chapter Thirty-two

  October, 1886.

  “Something old, something new,” Grace chanted happily.

  “Something borrowed, something blue,” Lily chimed in. “Just look at you, Solace! Mama’s gown is perfect for you. Simple and sophisticated.”

  “And with the new veil, and the blue ribbon laced in the bodice—and Lily’s pearls—you’re the picture of wedding perfection!” Her little sister sighed wistfully. “I hope I’ll get married someday soon. May I wear your dress, too, Mama?”

  Mercy Malloy seldom denied her three girls anything, yet her smile, bracketed by gentle lines, was diplomatic. “I’ve saved you the gown I wore when I married your father, dear. Billy’s sister Christine designed it—made it of ivory silk, with a lace overlay. She wore it when she married Tucker, too—out in the yard where Solace will say her vows. Not many gowns have graced three beautiful brides.”

  Lily’s expression softened. “Christine,” she murmured. “Now there’s somebody I miss!”

  Solace was too busy gazing at the stranger in the mirror to enter into this sentimental chatter. Who would have believed the difference a bridal gown could make? The sky blue ribbons had been Mama’s idea, to gather the scooped neckline into a better fit for her smaller bosom. And frankly, a touch of her favorite color made the gown—the entire occasion—much less daunting. Less prissy, too.

  Her mother was circling her slowly, nipping her lip. “You do that dress justice, honey. Even though I was thin as a bride, I was so corseted I had to breathe and move very carefully. The church was crowded, and I was so nervous I nearly keeled over before Daddy walked me to the altar.”

  “Thank you for letting me wear it, Mama. It’s a special honor.” Solace suddenly recalled Letitia Bancroft fainting in Gabe’s arms at their wedding, and it gave her great satisfaction to draw a deep breath without popping any seams. None of those nasty whalebone stays for her today! Nor ever! Training ten new horses for Obadiah Jones, one of Papa’s longtime buyers—and teaching Charlie to ride on weekends—had kept her body firm and fit over the summer. And she was thankful for that.

  “Judd would be so proud.” Mama’s steady brown eyes glistened with unshed tears, but then she smiled brightly. “And Michael’s downstairs pacing a rut in the carpet, he’s so excited. We’re overjoyed that you and Gabe found each other, and Charlie. Clearly, it was God’s plan for you!”

  Solace grinned. It had turned out that her parents were impressed by Sol Juddson’s stories and had encouraged her to keep writing, but they were far more ecstatic about Charlie making them grandparents.

  From the first day Gabe had brought him here, he’d fit like a hand in the family glove. He was all boy—loved the riverbank and romping with Rex—yet he listened attentively during devotions, and was minding the manners Temple Gates and Mama had instilled in them all. Charlie adored Michael Malloy—loved his stories about being a stagecoach driver and a soldier in the war. And Papa was so happy having a shadow again, his grin lasted from the time Charlie arrived until Gabe took him home.

  “I can’t thank you all enough for the way the house glows now.” This time, it was her turn to get misty-eyed. “I was concerned about moving in where Charlie’s parents had lived and died—and just as worried that changing his home would upset him. But he loves his blue room, and the whole place has taken on another life. What a difference new colors and carpet and curtains have made!”

  “Takes more than paint and new parents to scare Charlie!” Lily remarked.

  New parents. That was the part that made Solace nervous. She and Charlie shared a special bond, to be sure, yet raising a seven-year-old boy felt like a monumental responsibility. No chance to back out—no reverting to the days when she’d spent all her time with her dog and her horses, or had hidden herself away to write.

  Gabe already had a good feel for fatherhood, because he’d moved into the house the week they became betrothed. Charlie had helped him set up his new law office and then returned to school in town. He did his homework while Gabe saw his last clients each day, and th
en the two of them went to dinner before strolling home.

  How would she fit herself into their tidy routine? Could she cook decent meals and keep the house clean? And how would she possibly make time for all the things she felt called to do? She marveled that Mama had handled Billy, two baby girls, and Joel when she’d married Papa—and then delivered baby Grace a year later. How had she stayed sane?

  “Look at Charlie out there! Determined not to fall under Bernadette’s spell, while she refuses to be ignored!”

  Grace joined Lily at the window, chuckling. “Miss B’s sketchbook already contains several rough drawings of Charlie. In the back, where she thinks Owen and Olivia won’t see them.”

  “But you looked!” Solace pointed out. She held very still as Mama slid the beaded headpiece into her hair, just behind her ears. Her curls were trimmed short again, because Gabe liked them that way—which was all the reason she needed.

  “I’m her teacher. It’s my responsibility to know what my students are writing and drawing,” Grace replied loftily. Then she chuckled. “It was her mother who gave me the hint, however. Eve has seen a small canvas of a boy with dark blond hair tucked behind some others. Apparently Bernadette sneaks up to the studio to work on it.”

  “Ah, young love,” their mother teased. Then she grinned at Solace. “It was Billy you idolized, sweetheart. Poor kid couldn’t go anywhere or do anything without you. There—see if you like these ribbons.”

  Solace was about to reply, but once again her reflection caught her by surprise. Gossamer layers of tulle cascaded past her shoulders, and three strands of gently curled blue ribbon hung from each side of the headpiece. It was a small detail she’d not seen on any of the veils they’d looked at in town, and it set her apart from brides who wore white on white.