Gabe had hummed the whole time he waited for their food. He didn’t know what Steph liked—to eat—so he ordered one from column A, two from column B, and three from column C.
Back at her place, he learned she liked spring rolls and Szechwan chicken, the hotter the better. He preferred egg rolls and Hunan beef, the hotter the better. They were going to get along just fine.
Except that he wasn’t humming now. She’d been telling him an outlandish tale that involved a previous life starring William as her lover. She had diagnosed herself with PTSD—or possibly plain old insanity—as a result of losing her purpose in life. All that to explain why they couldn’t continue. At least not until she got this sorted out.
What a load of crap.
“So this woman—you—was burned to death in a cellar—”
“Which explains why I’ve never liked basements or fire.”
“And her lover was supposed to save her but didn’t—”
“She thought he would but he betrayed her.”
Which could explain why she’d never married. Wait, no. He was not buying into this. “And William is this guy, and he has to make it right. Does that sum it up?”
“Pretty much. She cursed him. I think she was a priestess or something.”
“You were a priestess.”
Steph deftly brandished a hunk of chicken with her chopsticks. “I kind of like that part.”
Gabe dredged his third egg roll in a dollop of spicy mustard. “You know how this sounds.”
“Yeah, but it does explain a lot. Still, I’m thinking the PTSD idea has merit. I’m really not myself.”
“Of course not. You’re the priestess.”
“There’s no need for sarcasm. And look at William.”
They looked at the dogs. Both had been following the conversation, or maybe it was the food, closely.
“I mean, look at him.”
William made direct eye contact with Gabe, then very deliberately looked away, giving his attention to Steph. If Gabe didn’t know better, he’d say he’d just been told to drop dead. There was no malice in the look, though.
“He’s a dog, Steph.”
Gabe wasn’t sure which of them he was trying to convince. Something had to explain the animal’s immediate bond with this woman and total disinterest in a female of his own kind. Something like a lack of socialization with other dogs. Not the spirit of an imaginary man from hundreds of years ago who had been cursed…. He wasn’t going to let this nonsense come between them. Not after all this time.
“You have to admit,” Stephanie continued, “he doesn’t act like other dogs.”
“He already saved your life. He’s redeemed himself.” Why was he encouraging her?
“That’s the thing. Heather said that wasn’t it.”
“This the same Heather who used to wear crystals in her hair and make burnt offerings to the full moon?”
Stephanie’s eyes grew wide. “Oh my God, you knew about that?”
“There wasn’t much I missed.”
“You’re wrong.” She cracked open a fortune cookie. “It was the new moon.”
Gabe grinned then took a swig of beer. There was nothing wrong with her that enough time with a flesh-and-blood man—himself—wouldn’t fix.
“Whatever,” he said.
She needed to rest. She needed to forget about work. She needed a change of scene.
“Let’s go to my cabin for the week.”
Suddenly, William stood up and started growling. He ran into the kitchen and then to the back door and then dug at the carpet in the middle of the living room, snarling and whimpering and barking.
Barking mad might explain a few things… Stephanie went to him.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” She petted him but he wouldn’t be soothed. “What is it?”
She looked to Gabe. That, at least, was a good sign that she wasn’t crazy. He shook his head. The dog circled the room, sniffing and digging, then stared at Steph. If Gabe didn’t know better, he’d say the dog’s eyes were pleading with her.
Gabe shook his head.
He couldn’t let this cockamamie story get to him.
William rushed to the back door again, and Stephanie let him out where he ran around the yard and barked some more. Lucy followed but didn’t seem inclined to join in; only curious about the fuss. That made two of them.
They walked onto the back deck. Gabe slipped his hand around Steph’s. “Maybe—”
“Don’t.” She pulled away. “Don’t say anything bad about him.”
“Hey,” came a voice from below them. “What’s all that racket?”
Mr. Weinperth poked his head out of the basement.
“See,” Stephanie said to Gabe. “There’s a reason for everything.” She waved to Mr. Weinperth. “Good evening.”
“Evening you two. Heard you got yourself a dog, Stephanie. Sorry if I upset him.”
“That’s okay. He didn’t like it when Mrs. Spangler was down there, either.” She turned to Gabe with a smile. “He doesn’t like basements any more than I do.”
She was grasping at straws. Had he made a mistake? He’d been in love with her for so long, but that had been an adolescent craving for a young girl. What did he really know about the grown-up Stephanie? Had she been spending too much time with the likes of Heather? He stopped looking for excuses. He knew plenty about her. He had talked to Martha regularly…but she was her mother. Not exactly an unbiased source.
Then again, dogs did sense things that people missed.
“I’ll check it out,” he said.
He ducked under the deck and shook hands with Mr. Weinperth as he went by. The old guy still had a hell of a grip.
“Good thing, that dog,” Mr. Weinperth continued to Steph. “A girl shouldn’t be alone.”
Gabe couldn’t agree more. He checked the breaker box first, but all was in order there. He stood for a moment, sniffing for anything that didn’t smell right, then looking for something out of place. Mr. Weinperth had started building a new birdhouse. His tools were always clean and organized. He’d been using the table saw recently, but not tonight or they would have heard it upstairs. Even that had a vacuum hooked up to collect the dust. William had probably heard the old guy banging around down here, and that’s what he was barking at. Nothing more.
He went outside. Steph and Mr. Weinperth were admiring the new moon. He thought of Heather, again. He’d never known the girl, only knew that she was Stephanie’s best friend and she was the exact opposite of Steph and maybe that’s where the attraction was. There’d be no burnt offerings tonight.
Except for the fire he’d be lighting in Steph when he returned later.
He’d go home and pack up his and Lucy’s gear, and they could leave for the lake first thing.
“Pretty night,” he said as he approached.
“Yep,” Mr. Weinperth agreed. “I think I’ll close up shop and make myself a cup of tea. You two youngsters care to join me?”
“Some other time,” Stephanie said.
“Not tonight,” Gabe said.
Mr. Weinperth gave a jaunty salute and went down the steps to the basement. William sat nearby watching him closely, his head cocked to one side.
Gabe took Steph’s shoulders. “I’m going home but I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Say you’ll come to the cabin with me.”
She looked at him with her head tilted slightly, just like the dog’s, and smiled. “This afternoon—”
“Was amazing.”
“That too.”
He touched her silky hair, moved it off her shoulder. “You were going to say something else?”
“I really think we should slow down.”
“We’ve waited thirty years, Steph. I think that’s long enough.”
“I know. It feels right to me, too. But so much has happened in the last couple of days. Losing my job…”
“You worked too hard.”
A pained look crossed her face.
“What? You did.”
<
br /> “Maybe. It’s just that…”
Gabe took her in his arms. “It’ll be all right. You’ll see.”
She dug her fingers into his shoulders, and he felt a sob push through her. He picked her up, carried her inside, and sat on the couch with her in his lap. She buried her face in his neck.
“I feel so lost.” She sniffed for a few minutes, trying to get it under control. “I think I got lost when my father left.”
Gabe knew most of the story from Martha. But not Stephanie’s side of it. He’d never known his own father. Wasn’t sure if his mother had even known which of her “special friends” had been the sperm donor. “Dirt bag,” he said, thinking it applied to both of their sires.
She laughed a little at that, sat up and wiped her eyes. “You know what he told me?”
Gabe shook his head.
“He said I was lazy and should look for a rich husband because I’d never be able to take care of myself.” She covered her cheeks with her hands. “Guess I proved him wrong, huh?”
That was why she’d never married. Not because of a betrayal from another lifetime. “It doesn’t matter—”
“Let me finish.” She took a deep breath. “Mom married for love, or so she thought. Look where that got her. I’m not sure she ever stopped loving the…”
“Dirt bag,” Gabe finished for her.
She smiled. “I was determined not to end up like her. But in the process of proving Dad wrong, I ended up like her anyway. Alone.”
She slumped against him again. He rubbed her back sensing this was a good time to shut up and listen. He didn’t get the feeling she was soliciting advice, anyway. He glanced at the dogs. William curled in the easy chair, and Lucy, who wasn’t allowed on the furniture, lay on the floor next to it. He and Steph would be having a conversation about the place of dogs in the home.
Steph continued. “I don’t know if I ever really knew who I was. And now all this.” She looked over at the dogs, too, and paused before going on. “What was I thinking? Tomorrow’s Monday.” She stopped for another big breath. “What am I going to do? My whole life, the answer to all my questions was work.”
Gabe stroked her back and inhaled the scent of her. He couldn’t take much more of her sitting on his lap. He either had to leave or get her naked.
“It’s okay to take a break. Think about coming up to the cabin. You don’t have to do anything. We don’t have to do anything. Heck, you can have the place to yourself. I’ll go fishing. Bring a stack of books. Sit on the porch and drink coffee—”
Stephanie jumped to her feet. “Shit.”
William came to attention, and Gabe stood up, too. “What?”
“I completely forgot. It’s Mother’s Day.”
Gabe blinked. It took him a moment, but then it came back. Coffee. Martha’s coffee.
“See what I mean?” she said. “That proves I’m out of my mind. You have to go.”
“I’m coming back.”
“No, please. Not tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” She walked briskly to the door.
Gabe followed, swearing to himself, trying to think of a way to salvage the situation. They weren’t moving too fast, and the cabin was the perfect place for her to chill out and think about what to do next. He’d meant what he’d said about leaving her alone. It would kill him, but he would do it if that’s what she wanted. He’d concede tonight. What he wouldn’t do was give up on them.
At the door, he kissed her deeply and she returned it before giving him a playful shove.
“Scoot. I need to make some coffee.”
Chapter 10
The Man, The Dog, His Owner & Her Lover, a Witting Woman novella Page 9