by Bella Andre
Noah started chanting an old rhyme. “Rosie and Gideon sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g.”
“First comes love,” Jorge joined in, “then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage.”
Rosie groaned. “All right, you two little matchmakers, out you go. It’s time for me and Gideon to get up.”
They raced out of the room, Noah calling, “Bye, Mommy! Bye, Daddy! Love you!”
“I can’t believe they’ve been planning this all along,” Gideon said. “With all their sleepovers and playdates every day.”
“Little sneaks,” Rosie groused good-naturedly. Inside, she was glowing. On the outside too, actually. “We totally fell for it.”
“Any updates on the ex situation?” Matt wanted to know.
“Nothing yet, but don’t worry,” Gideon reassured them again, “we won’t let anything happen to Noah.”
“We know you won’t,” Ari said. “You don’t have to keep saying it.”
He nodded, then said with a smile, “Looks like the honeymoon is treating you well.”
“It really is.” Ari was glowing. “But we miss all of you.”
“We miss you too.” Just like the kids, Rosie blew Ari and Matt a kiss.
When they hung up, the silence in the room was broken only by the hollering from the boys in the kitchen.
“I’m glad they called,” Gideon said. “I want them to know about us. I want everyone to know.” Then he dropped his voice and sang softly, “Rosie and Gideon lying in a bed, k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” before kissing her breathless.
Chapter Twenty-Two
With his heart overflowing, the day was too glorious for Gideon to dwell on Archibald Findley—or even the past and the darkness that had been the focus of his life for so long. All he wanted was to bask in the feelings Rosie evoked in him—the wonder, the desire, the ease, the laughter, the hope. He wanted to bask in the miracle of their lovemaking. And he wanted to bask in this precious time with her, and with the kids.
Rosie suggested a trip across the Santa Cruz Mountains to Roaring Camp, which nestled in the redwoods next to Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park. In addition to the steam trains taking passengers high up in the mountains or down to the beach, there was face painting, gold panning, square dancing, and more. The boys were so excited, vibrating with joy even as they waited in line to pick up their boxed lunches to eat on the ride up Bear Mountain.
Rosie was beauty personified. Gideon couldn’t take his eyes off her in her flowery tank top and jean shorts, her legs bronzed, her hair brilliant in the shafts of sunlight through the trees.
Noah and Jorge were ecstatic as the steam train rumbled up the mountain. They clung to the sides, leaning back in the open-air carriage to gaze all the way to the tops of the huge redwoods and Douglas firs, waving at the squirrels racing through the branches, asking the conductor a million questions about trains. After an hour and a half, as they chugged back into the station, the kids begged to have their faces painted. They insisted on Day of the Dead, while Rosie wanted to sprinkle them with flowers instead.
“Come on, Mom,” Jorge groaned. “Flowers are for girls.”
Rosie laughed and gave in. When the face painter was finished, Rosie snapped photos of the transformation to text to Ari and Matt. “We should take a walk through the redwood loop before we leave,” she told Gideon, pointing to a path through to the state park.
“Sure. That sounds great.” Everything she suggested was great. Because being with her was all he’d ever dreamed of.
Gideon still could barely believe last night had actually happened. His heart felt like it was in overdrive. Walking hand in hand with Rosie as they trailed after the two excited little boys, he knew what true happiness was. He’d experienced moments of happiness in the past; as a teenager, watching Ari jump rope, her face joyous, her laughter singing out; as a man, when he and Zach had pulled some ridiculous prank that made the guys roar with laughter; then coming home to Ari and Noah, watching them play in Matt’s pool, the childish giggles, Ari’s laughter. And especially Ari’s wedding. So, yes, there had been moments.
But the joy in his heart as he held Rosie’s hand in his—that would last a lifetime.
Their faces painted like elaborate black-and-white skulls—Rosie got her wish too, with the flowers and swirls the artist had added—the boys raced to the blacksmith to watch him work.
“We take a bar of smelted metal, and we heat it up on the forge.” The man explained the process as he pulled a stick of superheated metal out of the burning coals with a pair of tongs. “Now we’re going to use this hammer to beat it into shape on the anvil.”
“What are you making?” Noah asked.
Older, his face grizzled, his hair a cap of gray, the man had penetrating brown eyes and strong hands. “This will be a seahorse that can hang on a barn wall as a hook to hold horse tack.” He spoke in an old-fashioned accent as if he were truly a nineteenth-century blacksmith.
“Wow!” the boys exclaimed in unison.
For long moments, loud banging rang out. Then the blacksmith pondered his handiwork, saying, “Let’s see where we are.” He doused the still glowing seahorse in a large metal bucket, the water hissing and bubbling around it. Holding it up for the kids to see, he said, “I’ve got a bit more work to do yet.” Though Gideon could make out the curled tail, it didn’t look like a seahorse.
“How long does it take to complete the seahorse?” Rosie asked.
“Come back in a couple of hours.” He smiled brightly, then held up a finger. “But I’ve got one in process over here.” Placing the current project back in the forge, he fished out another bit of metal with his tongs. “I’ll just cool it down.” He let it sizzle in the bucket, then held up a beautifully formed seahorse.
“That’s amazing.” Rosie was as enthusiastic as the boys.
“Now we’re going to bronze it up like this.” Gripping the seahorse tight in his tongs, he laid it on the anvil and polished it with a metal brush. “See how the bronze comes off this brush and right onto the metal?” He held up the brush and the seahorse for the boys to see. “This little guy is still hot enough for the tines of the metal brush to melt onto it. And the seahorse shines right up.”
Rosie and the boys leaned forward to watch the magic as the gray metal turned bronze beneath the brush.
“How long have you been smithing?” Gideon asked.
The man’s face wrinkled into another smile. “Oh, about ten years. I was an engineer in Silicon Valley, but when a man retires, he’s got to find a hobby or he wastes away. So I took up smithing. I’ve been coming out here to Roaring Camp for about seven years now. Everything you see here—” He waved his hand at the array of tools behind him. “—is what was used back in the eighteen hundreds. And my wares are for sale here.” He pointed to a row of seahorses for hooks and forest animals for doorstops, plus key rings, decorative door hinges, candlestick holders, elaborate crosses. Even dice.
“These are cool.” Jorge picked up two. “They’re heavy.”
“Pure metal,” the man said. “And look at this one. I made a mistake—it’s got three on two sides.” He tossed a die onto his heatproof glove and held it out.
The boys turned it over to see the mistake.
“You boys can have it free of charge, since it’s not right.”
“Wow.” Jorge clutched it in his fist. “Thank you.”
Gideon bought each of the boys a pair of dice, because they were fascinated by the work and because the man had spent so much time with them.
“That was a great lesson,” Rosie said. “The kids really appreciated it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am,” the blacksmith said as he used his tongs on the unfinished seahorse and laid it on his anvil. “Come back if you’d like to see this one finished up.”
“We will. Thank you.” Gideon took Rosie’s hand in his as they walked away. Touching her was as necessary as breathing.
“Can we pan for gold now?” Noah was bo
uncing on his toes, excitement pulsing in every cell.
“Sure,” he and Rosie said at the same time. And the boys were off, leaving them to meander along.
“Can you imagine taking up a hobby like blacksmithing after you’ve retired?” Rosie looked at him, her eyebrows raised in amazement.
In the army, they’d always been busy. Busy was good, occupying your hands, your mind. “If you were able to make a living as an artist and didn’t have to do accounting anymore—” It was his goal to turn life as an artist into Rosie’s reality, because that was how talented she was. “—what would you choose as a hobby? Or would you paint all the time, never stopping?”
She gave it serious consideration. “I’d want a hobby too. Art can be exhausting, especially when you put your whole soul into it.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” Unspoken, memories of the day at the Legion of Honor passed between them.
She squeezed his hand. “I know you do.” Then she looked at him, her gaze suddenly eager. “I’d choose something like stained glass. And I’d want to make my own patterns.”
The boys rushed back for money for the gold panning, while Rosie and Gideon slowly caught up. Under the trees, at four big panning tables, the enclosed pans filled with water and dirt were crowded with kids and parents alike.
“Do you want to pan?” she asked.
“No.” He wanted to watch the boys’ delight. And he wanted to listen to Rosie’s voice, learn everything he could about her. “Stained glass seems right up your alley. I can imagine every window filled with brilliant color.”
“Me too,” she said. Then she laughed and added, “Or maybe I’d take cooking lessons.”
“But you’re a great cook. The empanadas you made for the picnic at the Legion of Honor were great.” He was pretty sure he’d neglected to tell her that. He’d been in a darker world that day.
She grinned at him, her eyes alight. “I’m glad you thought so. But I’d like to try different kinds of cuisine. My papí taught me Mexican specialties, but the rest of what I make is pretty basic. I’d like to make really authentic Indian food or Chinese.”
The boys whooped when they found a flake of gold. “I’m sorry,” the attendant told them, “but that’s pyrite. It’s called fool’s gold.” The boys went on panning with no less enthusiasm.
“What would you do?” Rosie bumped Gideon’s arm companionably. He loved the ease between them.
“When I was on a job down in Riverside, I stayed in a rooming house where the garden was filled with fruit trees. My landlady had oranges and avocadoes and plums and cherries. Plus an overflowing vegetable garden. She let me have anything I wanted. I think that’s what I’d like to do. Grow my own fruits and vegetables.”
“I could learn all sorts of delicious ways to prepare them.”
He grinned. “I could build window frames for all your stained glass.”
“What a team.” She threw her arms around him, hugged him tight.
He didn’t want to let her go. Holding Rosie in his arms was like holding the stars and the moon. Like holding a beautiful, amazing flower and watching it bloom.
She settled against him, his arm around her shoulders as they watched the boys. “All your hobbies are like you,” he said. “Artistic, imaginative, creative.”
“And yours are outdoorsy, working with your hands.”
“I guess we do what we love. It would be kind of cool to make furniture too.”
She pulled back to look at him. “I’ve never heard you talk so much before.” She stroked a hand down his face. “I love it.”
“I’ve never had so much to say before.” It was as though telling her about Karmen, about the angel painting, about that day, the worst of his life, had popped the cork out of everything he’d bottled up inside. And now it all wanted to pour out of him.
For Rosie.
* * *
It was the best day ever.
Rosie felt like she was glowing from the inside out. Last night had changed everything. The last of Gideon’s walls had come crashing down. It wasn’t just making love, it was everything they’d shared, everything they’d gone through. Together.
When he looked at the boys, he was the big brother Ari had always talked about, laughing, talking, loving, teaching.
And when he looked at her, he was the lover and protector she had always dreamed about, a beautiful, caring, endearing man.
Noah and Jorge raced to them, each holding a tiny baggie of gold flakes.
“Some of it’s pyrite,” Jorge said sagely.
“But some of it’s gold,” Noah said, with excitement.
Gideon ruffled his hair. “Awesome. We’ll have to save it to show your mom. Now let’s take a walk through the redwood loop in the park.”
The boys wanted their pictures taken inside the huge hollow of a tree, and with banana slugs, then on top of a tall tree stump. They wanted pictures of deer and squirrels and a raccoon. Their delight was never ending.
Gideon was endlessly patient, caring, interested. And during the moments the boys rushed ahead, he dropped a kiss on Rosie’s hair, laced her fingers with his, or pulled her close into the shelter of his arm.
It was idyllic. It was a fantasy. It was their new reality.
Then Gideon’s phone pinged. He looked at the text, looked at her. And his gaze turned a dark and stormy blue. “It’s Evan. The guys have some info for us.” He didn’t say Archie’s name. He didn’t have to.
“Good. I want to be done with him. I want him gone for good.” She wanted a new life with Gideon to start right now. She went up on her toes, threw her arms around him. “This has been the best day ever.”
He held her tight. “Tomorrow will be even better.”
It felt like a vow he was making for their future. One she was fiercely determined they would have.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Gideon’s arm lay firmly around Rosie’s shoulders when they rang Evan’s doorbell. Jorge hung on Gideon’s hand, while Noah clung to Rosie’s. There could be no doubt in anyone’s mind about exactly where Gideon stood: smack dab in the middle of a family.
His family.
In all the months he’d spent watching Rosie from afar, Gideon’s feelings for her had always seemed like a betrayal of Karmen’s memory. His friend had been good and brave, but he’d never truly allowed his budding feelings for her to grow between them. Maybe it was the place, the war, the fighting, the fear. Maybe it was because he’d been afraid he’d lose her. And his nightmare had become a reality.
He could never make up for failing to keep her from harm, or for losing his men, or for all the pain their families had suffered. But he could keep Rosie and Jorge safe.
He knew in his heart that Karmen would approve.
The scent of freshly baked cookies wafted out as Evan opened the door. “Thanks for coming.” He tipped his head toward the kitchen, smiling. “Paige has been baking again.”
The Mavericks had put out the call for a meeting, and the men were assembled in Evan’s living room, demolishing a large plate of chocolate chip cookies. As Evan had already briefed Paige on the situation, she took the boys into the kitchen so the adults could talk openly without worrying about upsetting them.
Gideon sat with Rosie on the couch, his arm around her. He could see on the other Mavericks’ faces that they’d known all along what Rosie and Jorge meant to him.
They were absolutely everything.
Sebastian spoke first. “It didn’t take long to ferret out your ex’s dirty little secrets. Everything is in this manila folder.”
Rosie opened it, sliding it closer to Gideon so they could both review the information Rafe Sullivan had pulled together. Her eyes were wide, and she was shaking her head by the time they finished reading about the scumbag’s dirty dealings.
Gideon held her hand tightly, securely, lovingly in his, as she looked up at the other Mavericks. “Thank you so much for doing this, you guys.” A slight hitch in her voice betrayed her
emotion.
“Rosie.” Will’s tone was gentle. “You’re Ari’s sister. You’re family. We take care of family.”
The Mavericks were foster brothers, just as Ari, Rosie, and Chi were foster sisters. They understood better than anybody that the bond wasn’t blood. The bond was love.
She blinked away tears. “I love you guys.”
Evan smiled. “Ditto. And we will take care of this problem.”
Daniel nodded. “Using this information, we can ream him a new—”
“No, wait.” Rosie leaned forward. “Of course I appreciate your offer to deal directly with Archie. I know all of you only have my best interests at heart. But I have to do this. I have to face him.” She gazed at each of them in turn, then came back to Gideon. “If I don’t do this myself, I’ll never feel truly free of him.”
Just the thought of Rosie meeting with Archie again was enough to nearly stop Gideon’s heart. He didn’t like it. No, he hated it. Hated the thought of her going anywhere near the guy.
But if he didn’t let her deal with Archie on her own terms, if he wrapped her in cotton wool and demanded she do things his way, she would hate him.
Though it took everything he had, he forced himself to nod. “You need to be free of him, Rosie.”
She pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, then pulled out her phone. “I’m going to call him right now and set up another meeting.”
* * *
It came as no surprise to anyone that Findley had been delighted at the prospect of seeing her again. Obviously, the guy thought his threats from their previous meeting had done the job and she was ready to cave to his demands. Her ex was so arrogant that he never even considered Rosie had something in store for him that would blow a mile-wide hole in his plans.
Paige was more than happy to take care of the boys for a while longer, and Rosie hugged Jorge fiercely before they left. He didn’t melt down like he had last night. It was as though he knew his mother had a very important thing to do that would make him secure for the rest of his life.