The Third Daughter's Wish

by Kaitlyn Rice

  Gabe hadn’t told her at first because he’d been reluctant to repeat gossip that might have been false.

  He hadn’t told her later because he’d feared that Joe would be as lazy as his mother had claimed. As foolish as Ella had insisted. Josie was the only person who’d opened her heart to a gentle man who’d made bad choices.

  And in the end, Gabe hadn’t told her because he’d been involved with her. He’d feared she would use it as an excuse to retreat. He had to face that now. Tell the gritty truth.

  “I trusted you, Gabe.”

  “Josie, I swear I didn’t make the connection until after Earl gave us the name that night at Mary’s. Then I didn’t say anything because, well…I thought I needed to protect you. All I’d heard of Joe was that he didn’t keep jobs and he drank any food money his mother gave him.”

  “You didn’t trust me to find out for myself? Even if he lived under a cardboard box, that was my call.”

  He hadn’t trusted her to find out. He should have. Josie was an adult, and more mature than Gabe in this way: she saw her father’s weaknesses, but cherished his strengths.

  Gabe had watched her respond to her father, and he’d fallen more deeply in love with her. And by the time he’d seen her openhearted acceptance of Joe, Gabe had felt that his confession would be too late.

  Josie sprang from the chair and headed for the corridor. She exited through a side entrance and let herself into his car. All with him following.

  Regretting.

  They drove to Augusta in silence. Without asking where she wished to go, Gabe turned down the dirt road to her house. When she got out, he did, too. He walked her to the door. “May I step in for a minute?” he asked.

  “I can’t believe you’d ask.”

  She went inside without a smile, a look or a see-you-later. She closed the door behind herself before he’d even caught his breath.

  HE SENT A humongous dang flower bouquet every day. Sometimes they arrived at her house, sometimes at her job. Now, on this Sunday afternoon in early February, they’d been delivered to Joe’s house.

  When she walked in to see the bouquet of white mums, gorgeous on the side table next to her father’s chair, she laughed. “Oh, God. More white?”

  Her father sat with a comforter over his lap. “I put them on the table so you’d see them right off,” he said. “Guess he felt certain you’d visit here soon.”

  Gabe wasn’t stupid. Her father had been released three days ago, and Gabe would recognize that Josie would want to check on him.

  “Did you and Gabe have a falling out? You’re coming and going at different times.”

  She lifted her chin and didn’t answer. She’d noticed what her father had said. Gabe had been here to visit.

  She couldn’t restrain a twinge of affection.

  Her father’s mouth twisted. “He’s a good guy, Josie-girl.”

  Josie plopped into the chair she’d added to her dad’s living room. She reclined against the seat back and lifted her gaze to the ceiling. “He’s not good for me, Dad.”

  “Why not?”

  “He kept a secret from me.”

  “What secret?”

  Josie bent forward, fussing with the comforter which covered her father’s body. “You need anything? Hot tea? You hungry?”

  “No, no and no.” Joe waved away the very idea. “I want to hear this secret. It’s about me, isn’t it.”

  Crud.

  Her father was no dummy, either. She might as well give him her side of the story. “Yes. You were the secret, okay? Gabe was aware of your connection to Alana a long time before I was.” She shrugged. “He kept it from me.”

  “I didn’t tell you about my family, either.”

  He hadn’t.

  Josie gave him a wry look. “But Gabe was supposed to be my best friend. I thought I could rely on him, above anyone, to be honest with me.”

  “Maybe he had a good reason to keep the secret.”

  “Like what?”

  “Maybe he worried about what would happen if you found out. Maybe he was afraid you’d be hurt.”

  “Hah! That’s just it. I’m a grown woman.”

  “Right. Then tell me this, Josie-girl. How can you forgive me? When your mother had another baby, I had suspicions.” He paused. “But I allowed fear to prevent me from watching my own child grow up.”

  Josie could forgive her father because she accepted whatever she got from him, expecting little.

  And thus, receiving a lot.

  Joe bent forward, allowing the comforter to fall to his waist as he waited for a reply.

  She couldn’t reveal her every hurtful thought to her dad. Couldn’t tell him her impressions of him as a man who’d bumbled his life, but who had strong points.

  She had grown to love Joe. Her dad.

  “Uh-huh,” her father said, as if he could read her mind. “Don’t let fear cheat you out of happiness, girl. I’ve lived my life alone. I don’t recommend it.”

  Josie rolled her eyes and sighed. “I’m not afraid.”

  Her dad shoved the comforter completely aside, and Josie was glad to note that he’d dressed in clean, new-looking jeans. He coughed once and sat back. “You worry about me, don’t you?”

  She held his gaze.

  “Don’t become like me.”

  Was that where she was headed? To a life as simple and lonely as her dad’s?

  He got up and plodded to his kitchen, and Josie followed. He filled a teakettle and set it over a burner. “That Gabriel Thomas loves you in a big way,” he said with no hesitation. Just put it out there between them.

  Her father turned the knob on the stove, then moved his gaze to the counter above Josie’s head. “Grab a couple of cups, would you?”

  She did, and as he accepted one he cackled. “Silly, isn’t it? Some lonely old man giving you advice about love.”

  Josie smiled.

  “I missed out on it. What is it that the players do in football?” he asked. “I fumbled it.”

  “Gabe’s had you watching?”

  “He thinks I should learn to enjoy it. He brings big, soft pretzels and root beer.”

  Now she laughed.

  Her dad opened a tin to reveal some tea bags, took one and allowed Josie to select her own. “I fumbled it, Josie. I didn’t know until you started coming here, but I missed having someone around.” He tore open the paper wrapper, then nestled the bag in his cup. “I wasn’t sure I deserved to be around anyone,” he added quietly. “Because of my habits.”

  The teakettle sang.

  Josie put a bag in her cup and waited for her father to pour the water. She yanked two new spoons from a drawer and they both stirred and sipped. The tea tasted herbal. Earthy.

  Her dad winced.

  “Why do you drink green tea if you don’t like it?” she asked.

  “I’m learning to like things that are better for me,” he said. “I’m going to AA meetings over at the church, too. Did Gabe tell you that?”

  Josie had her cup poised at her lips, but she brought it back down. Startled. “You are?”

  “My mother invited me. She’s ten years sober. She said she was waiting for the day I’d accept her help.”

  Josie attempted to blink back tears but gave up. They sprang from her face like some dang fountain. “That’s great,” she said.

  “You okay?”

  “Just happy.”

  He frowned into his cup.

  Reacting to the pressure of her wishes, she thought.

  Josie turned away from him to wipe her face and grab hold of her composure. As they finished their tea, they talked about Alana, her grandmother.

  Thinking of her that way felt strange.

  Alana had invited Joe to move in with her. Although she was healthy, she was nearing eighty. She said she’d appreciate the company, as long as Joe restricted his smoking to the outdoors. Or quit.

  He was considering both suggestions.

  An hour later, Josie returned ho
me to her houseful of wilting white flowers. The answering machine light was blinking, so she set the mums next to it and pushed the button.

  She felt a small disappointment when it wasn’t Gabe’s voice on the message, but she still grinned when she heard Isabel’s feminine greeting. Izzy and Trevor had been on their way out with Darlene, but they had news.

  She was pregnant again, due in October.

  Josie was so happy for her. Isabel had been the closest to their mom. For Isabel to trust Trevor in the beginning must have taken an act of bravery. In a longtime marriage, maintaining that trust must require constant acts of faith and courage.

  Josie felt an urge to call Gabe and tell him about the baby. He’d be excited, she was certain, but she wouldn’t know how to start.

  Sorry we haven’t talked. I’ve always loved you a little too much, and I feared losing you?

  Not at all brave. And just an excuse.

  I’m sorry I was a jerk. Let’s go to bed?

  Brave, perhaps, but too much of the same old spiel.

  And she also worried that Gabe wasn’t asking for that much from her. He still wanted sex. Maybe he wasn’t asking for sex from her forever.

  He’d mentioned marriage once, but she’d viewed that as an attempt to keep going. She’d seen other guys use that ploy.

  And if Gabe didn’t want forever, why start up again?

  Man, had she changed.

  Valentine’s Day fell on a Tuesday, and Josie found two dozen mixed roses on her step when she opened the door to get the paper. Two more bouquets had arrived at her job site before noon. None was white, however. They were reds, purples, yellows and pinks. Every bouquet was exquisite. Gabe must have spent a bundle. And every card said the same thing.

  I won’t stop loving you. Get used to this. Gabe.

  It wasn’t as witty as his earlier messages, but it had a similar effect. She yearned to welcome Gabe in her bed and her life for as long as possible.

  Maybe she should try.

  She drove straight to his house after work, and arrived at five-thirty. He might not be home yet, but she didn’t care. She could wait.

  She rang his doorbell, then heard the high whine of his jigsaw. He must be working in his garage.

  She walked around to the side entrance and found him facing away from her at that workbench, wearing a big, dirty work suit and safety glasses.

  He’d never looked sexier to her.

  Josie watched him silently for a few minutes, as fascinated as always at the way he created something magnificent from a piece of raw material. Although Gabe had been contracting for years, he still adored getting his hands on the wood.

  She loved that about him.

  He cut a wide arc into a square of plywood, then blew the dust away and ran his finger over the curve.

  An erotic image entered her thoughts, of him touching her that way on the same workbench.

  When he shut off the saw, she cleared her throat.

  Then again, more loudly.

  Finally, he swivelled around.

  “I came about the flowers.”

  He shoved his glasses onto his forehead and eyed her without smiling.

  She ached for a smile.

  “You made your point,” she said. “You can stop.”

  He studied her, and she realized he was worried about what she’d say. About being hurt. That dear, big, wonderful man was worried that she would hurt him.

  His tomboy friend, Josie.

  Wow. She could hurt him, couldn’t she?

  He loved her that much.

  She took a step forward. “So, are you still planning to die a bachelor?”

  He shook his head, as if confused by the question.

  “We’ve always said we’d get married only if we wanted kids, and we didn’t because of the potential for inherited problems. We both said that, didn’t we?”

  She hesitated until he’d given a small nod, then she inched toward him again. “You realize there’s a but, don’t you?”

  Were the corners of his mouth lifting?

  “What we didn’t realize then was that sometimes people marry because they love someone. There is reward in that lasting connection, don’t you think?”

  As she stepped within arm’s reach of him, he gave her a bright look that took her breath away.

  But she kept her cool, determined to tell him the rest.

  “Shhh!” she said when he began to speak. Then, “Gabe, I honestly believed that my sisters could make their relationships work because they were calm people. I considered myself too crazy to settle into marriage.”

  “And don’t forget your marriage-is-boring mantra,” he added, then shot a hot look from her head to her toes. “You are crazy, though.” Slowly, he reached up and unzipped his body suit. When he had the zipper all the way down, he began peeling out of his clothes.

  “Gabe!”

  Now he shushed her, then kept stripping until he was bone-meltingly naked. “Bored?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer in words, but she was pretty certain he caught her meaning.

  Later. Much, much later, when they’d loved their way through his house and up to that giant bathtub, he draped his arms around her shoulders from behind and whispered in her ear. “Just figured it all out, huh?”

  “Something my dad said made me realize I was more afraid than angry. I kept finding excuses to back off.”

  “I thought that might be the case,” Gabe said. “But I felt certain I could wait it out. You are braver than you realize, Josie. And more loving.”

  She was so glad she’d fallen in love with her best friend. “I’ve been keeping a secret from you, too.”

  She maneuvered around until her legs were looped over his. “I love you. In that way. Being in love with you is my normal, I guess.”

  A wonderfully pleased grin spread across his face. “Good.”

  He groped behind him to turn on the water spigot, rewarming their cooling bath. Then he took her shoulders and drew her toward him, pausing for a moment to drip water onto her cleavage.

  She laughed. “Do you have a thing about this bathtub, Gabe?”

  “I have a thing about you.” He kissed her for a while, then inched his lips away and murmured, “So, you wanna get married?”

  A serious question. Hard to answer when he was nuzzling her neck. “What about the kids issue?” she asked. “You’d make a great dad, but we can’t ignore the potential for problems.”

  He backed away and scowled. “We’re talking about that now?”

  She tittered. “Shouldn’t we, Mr. Plan-Everything-Ahead?”

  “If we decide we want them, there’s adoption or genetic testing.”

  “Or, if it happens, would you mind if we just rattled around together for the next eighty years?” she asked.

  He studied her again. “You plannin’ to live past a hundred?”

  She poked him in the ribs. “Aren’t you?”

  “Remember, I have a headstart.” He slid near her again, claiming her mouth as he moved his hands to cup her bottom. The moment heated until Josie was ready for him.

  But Gabe retreated this time. “Hey! Did you ever answer my question, Josie? About marrying me?”

  “You just don’t give up, do you?” she asked, sighing.

  “Nope.”

  “Then, yes. Yes, I will.”

  “How’s next week sound?”

  It sounded perfect, but since Josie was more doer than talker, she showed him her answer this time.

  ISBN: 978-1-4603-6976-0

  THE THIRD DAUGHTER’S WISH

  Copyright © 2006 by Kathy Hagan.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limit
ed, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  www.eHarlequin.com

  * Heartland Sisters