Gabe’s Fortune (Prospect Springs Shifters Book 3)

by Mandy M. Roth

  It was difficult to get his body to do more than simply stand there, soaking in the sight of the woman. Her dark hair was down, hanging to her waist. She wore a blue scarf over the top portion of her hair and it was tied to the side, showing off large silver hoop earrings. Her skin looked to be sun-kissed and her full, rosy lips formed a curious pout as her blue gaze rested on him.

  She was stunning. Absolutely breathtaking.

  Gabriel’s wolf tried to surface, wanting to know more of the mysterious woman. He had to struggle with it to keep it at bay. He squeezed the head of his cane more, and the silver bit into his palm. The pain helped him focus.

  Was this the woman Gusto had spoken of? Adeline?

  She continued to watch him from afar, narrowing her gaze on him. She looked young. Perhaps too young for the thoughts he was having. He would be shocked if she was more than twenty-one or twenty-two. Whoever she was, she was beautiful and alluring.

  So much so that Gabriel knew better than to allow his curiosity to win out. He wasn’t in control of his beast enough at the moment to go to her, to ask more questions. No. Distance was required.

  Chapter Two

  Six Days Later, nearing Prospect Springs

  Dust blew past, lifting the banners announcing the coming attractions. The wind storms were lighter now, but not gone. The banner with the crystal ball was for her. It was to bring paying customers to her, even if she didn’t want them. Adeline Carpenter hated what she’d been born able to do. Hated that she was required to exploit it in order to live. It wasn’t like she had any family who could help her. She’d been on her own since she was only eight, and the New Frontier Territory was not kind to navigate as an adult, let alone as a child.

  The Old World Territory was worse.

  She’d been born in the Old World and had spent a portion of her youth there, across the ocean, far from the New Frontier. Sadly, the Old World’s strong dislike of supernaturals had left her and her mother running for their lives—refugees from their homeland. Her mother had made the only choice she could when presented with one boarding ticket on a ship bound for the New Frontier. She’d sent her only daughter in hopes Adeline would survive the persecution of their kind and thrive in the New Frontier. Thriving had been hard to do as a child.

  At nearly twenty-one, thriving had not gotten much easier, but at least she’d found people like her—her kind. She’d fallen in with the carnival when she was only thirteen and had been with them ever since. Most were like family to her.

  Some were not.

  The carnival was now under new management, with a new owner at the helm. Most of the carnival people were still unsure about him—including her. They’d lost three of their own not long ago, and the wounds of suspicion and loss were still fresh. Trusting wasn’t something any of them did easily.

  The new owner had shaken things up, but in a good way. She had a feeling he’d make sure no one else died on his watch. And he’d clean up anything questionable. He’d already gotten rid of two acts she knew to be skimming money from customers. Acts that didn’t belong with the family of misfits, and she suspected the owner would cut even more before the end of the month.

  Maybe her if she didn’t prove herself.

  She didn’t want to use the gift, the curse she’d been born with. Times were hard, and making a dime as a woman was hard. Too many women were left no choice but to sell themselves in brothels or saloons. She didn’t want to end up as one of those women, so she whored out her gifts instead of her body.

  She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and receded into her personal tent adjoining to her wagon. The air was hot, but it brought with it whispers of death that made her shiver. Being in touch with the other side was part of her curse. She didn’t relish it, but it put food on her plate. She went to her small vanity and sat at the stool before it, her hand going to a silver-handled hairbrush that had been a gift from the last owner of the carnival.

  He’d been good to her, almost father-like, and she missed him.

  She knew the truth.

  That before the sun had risen, he’d taken matters into his own hands, ending his suffering and meeting death on his terms, not from the sickness he’d been hiding from all save Adeline. She wanted to weep for him. For the loss, but she didn’t dare lower her safeguards in order to express her emotions. There was no telling what she might pick up on then, and she couldn’t handle any more death today.

  “Adeline, you got any of that stuff for sore throats?” Betsy asked as she lifted the flap to Adeline’s tent. The woman had to remain hunched over or her head would have possibly lifted the entire tent. Most who looked at Betsy couldn’t see past her height. The woman was just over eight feet tall—the giant of the show. Adeline didn’t really notice Betsy’s height anymore. The Gorgeous Giant was simply Betsy to her. Didn’t much matter that at five-three, Adeline felt as if Betsy was nearly twice her size—though she knew Betsy wasn’t. “Feels like I swallowed sand.”

  Working with herbs and natural remedies was a gift she was actually thankful had been passed down to her. Pressing a smile to her face, Adeline moved to the side of her tent and opened her leather traveling trunk. She withdrew a small glass jar full of mixed herbs and handed it to Betsy. “One tablespoon, three times a day in a cup of tea. It will help. You take it. I’ll make more.”

  “Oh, darlin’,” Betsy proclaimed. “You’re such a doll. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Betsy paused, the jar in her hand. She cast a pensive look in Adeline’s direction. “The new owner is lookin’ for you. Didn’t know if you’d heard. Want me to tell him he has to come to your tent? I will.”

  At the mention of Gabriel MacSweeny, Adeline perked. She’d first laid eyes upon him in Cutter Grove nearly a week ago, back when he’d come to inspect the carnival he’d purchased sight unseen. She still wasn’t sure why he’d bought it. From the scuttlebutt, he’d not owned a carnival or circus before. Now he was their new boss. He’d been the one to add Prospect Springs to their circuit. He’d also been hand selected by the previous owner. He was the one man who had gotten a yes when all others who had tried to buy the carnival had failed.

  Interesting.

  Betsy stood, appearing as though she’d take on the world for Adeline. It was the mark of a true friend. Adeline eased closer to the woman. “Thank you, but I think I’ve been ducking him long enough. I should go to him. I need this job too much to risk it.”

  “But, doll, your condition,” Betsy protested, a sympathetic look on her face.

  Adeline touched Betsy’s hand gently. “I’ll be careful.”

  “You do. And if he causes you any pain, I’ll break him in half for you.”

  She would too!

  Laughing, Adeline watched as Betsy turned and left the tent. Wind caught the flap. Dust blew in and Adeline stepped out, drew the flap and closed her cocoon around her. She liked the silence and the protective energy the runes that were placed within the confines provided. She wished she could simply place one in her pocket to shield her and be more mobile, but that was impossible. She’d tried enough times to know. She turned and sighed, already drained and she’d not even started doing any readings yet.

  The clanging of the roughies driving in the tent spikes rent the air. As the carnival’s train pulled in, it attracted the locals from miles away. Each train car was painted to the fullest extent, advertising what was to come, adding mystic to it all. Great care was taken with how they were presented. They were a carnival with a good reputation for being family friendly and for providing fun for all. That felt good. Knowing the new owner was doing his best to clean up the few acts that would have spoiled that reputation felt even better.

  Calypso music filtered from the other side of the carnival area. Adeline knew the tunes by heart. They were the same each stop. The other showmen, because they didn’t care much for the term carny, knew the songs by heart as well. Often they’d make up words to them to amuse themselves after hours
. They bonded in bizarre ways and were a family of sorts. Most were displaced, and their actual families were not part of their lives—if they ever had been.

  Adeline went to her wardrobe trunk and popped it onto its side. She opened it and selected a dress to wear. She didn’t want to officially meet Mr. MacSweeny wearing her traveling clothes. From the glimpses of him she’d managed, he was handsome and there was a certain something about him that left her wanting to look her best.

  She didn’t have much, but what she did have she took pains to keep well-tended and in good condition. Calliope, the daughter of the head maintenance man, worked wonders with needle and thread. She could make just about any designer piece she glanced at. It was a true gift. One that seemed to go to waste more often than not as her father kept her busy with oiling various mechanical men and animals that were part of the carnival. Adeline missed Calliope and couldn’t wait for her friend to return from the trip her father had insisted they go on. Something about getting a new set of mechanical monkeys at a discount rate. They would be catching up with the carnival within a few weeks.

  Adeline settled on a red dress that Calliope had given to her as a gift three years back. It was one of her favorites and made from old fabric that the carnival was no longer using. Many women shied away from the color, thinking it too bold, but Adeline didn’t. It felt like her people—the Roma—that she descended from.

  She took the time to prepare herself and then left her tent and strolled past the other tents. She gave a slight nod to the freaks gathered around the fire pit discussing the upcoming night’s show. It’s what they talked about every night, before every show. They found comfort in one another. To the world, they were freaks and sideshow acts. To each other, they were normal. And they loved being called freaks. It was a badge of honor to them. Call them anything else and you’d get an earful.

  Two of the roughies made their way to her.

  “Ms. Adeline,” Marvin said, tipping his hat. He’d always seemed polite enough on the outside, but there was something about him that left her uneasy. “We were in town earlier. It’s mighty purdy. You should join us. We’re goin’ in again tonight. Should be real fun.”

  “Not as purdy as you,” his ever-faithful sidekick Lew said, smiling wide.

  She didn’t comment, nor did she allow physical contact to be made with them. All too often, if she wasn’t shielding herself, she’d get impressions from the person and they could be overwhelming to her senses.

  “Where you headed?” Marvin asked.

  “To see the owner,” she replied as she neared the owner’s tent. She always did her best to keep her answers short and sweet when it came to Marvin and the men he associated with.

  “Your turn for the firin’ squad, huh?” he asked.

  “I suppose so.”

  Marvin got the flap for her and held it, smiling as she moved past him. She connected with him by mistake and was instantly struck with the vision of him watching her from afar, watching the way her dress had pulled up, showing the lower portion of her legs to him. It had excited him, making his cock hard. His mind had filled rapidly with images of her pinned beneath him, taking him as he rammed himself into her, holding her arms above her head, tears streaking her temples as he pawed at her body, grease from the rides he worked on smeared over her exposed flesh.

  It was what he fantasized about happening on their outing should she dare accept.

  Sickened, she jerked away and backed up fast. Too fast. She struck something solid, and the visions of Marvin having his way with her were quickly replaced by something else. Something powerful and feral. Images of running free came over her. She spotted moonlight flashing before her and heard the clear sounds of a wolf howling.

  It took her a moment to realize strong hands were gripping her shoulders, shaking her lightly. “Ms. Carpenter,” the deep, purely male voice repeated.

  Chapter Three

  Adeline tensed, and the visions stopped nearly as quickly as they’d started. That was odd. Normally, when she found herself in a vision loop, it didn’t end well at all. She could pick up things from a person’s past, tidbits from their future, something they merely fantasized about, just about anything and sometimes everything at once. And it never left her quickly. It always lingered, stealing her own thoughts and emotions, replacing them all with their own.

  This vision was different, though it still left her slightly shaken. Unease continued to edge around her being, held at bay by another force. One that was not here. It took her another minute to collect herself to the point where she could turn to face who had hold of her. As she did, her gaze raked up and over a rock-hard, bare, chiseled chest. She had seen men without shirts on before, but they all paled in comparison to this one.

  Oh my.

  Mr. MacSweeny.

  She swallowed hard as her gaze reached the man’s neckline. She couldn’t recall a time in her life when she’d been so close to perfection. Well, nearly perfect anyway. His squared jawline had a tiny scar on the right corner. The only mar on the otherwise flawless male before her. She wanted to touch the scar and learn the story behind it, but she didn’t dare. Already this man had a way about him that caught her senses off guard.

  By the time she reached his unnaturally vibrant green eyes, her cheeks were flush and she felt faint. Gone was the wave of sickness she’d felt at Marvin’s fantasy of forcing himself upon her. It was replaced fully by curiosity and, dare she admit, desire for the man invading her space. She swayed and he kept hold of her. Her body on fire from his touch. She had to bite her lower lip to hide the sigh wanting desperately to fall free from her. She wasn’t the type of woman who swooned over men. In fact, she’d gone out of her way to avoid the opposite sex whenever she could.

  She didn’t like picking up on their feelings and desires. Didn’t like being the object of their interest or of their dirty thoughts. There was no way for her to really know what Marvin would do—she was only privy to what he wanted to do, and from the peek she’d gotten, he was sick. She wasn’t sure she could handle a deeper look into Mr. MacSweeny’s mind. Not if he was anything like Marvin.

  A trickle of knowledge told her that he wasn’t.

  Mr. MacSweeny flashed a sexy grin. “Ms. Carpenter, sit.”

  She shook her head, unsure of herself. “I’m fine, Mr. MacSweeny.”

  “I’d set store by you bein’ anythin’ but fine, miss.” Lifting a brow, he begged to differ. “Sit.”

  He directed her to an ornate red velvet chair near a bed. His entire tent was set up more like a room in a fancy hotel than something that could be taken down and moved on a truck in a day’s time. She had to admit, while the finer things in life had never held much appeal to her, she did like the look and feel of his tent.

  She sat, and he stepped away to retrieve a tin cup of water. He eased it into her hands and knelt before her. She noted quickly the difference in the size of their hands. Gabriel MacSweeny was a large man. Powerful. Sexy. Commanding presence. She was small in comparison. Her gloved hand barely filled his palm. She got lost for a bit simply staring at his hands. Such a strange thing to do. But they radiated safety and protectiveness, as if he was the type of man who would take on anyone for those he cared about. Maybe he was. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the devil she’d been making him out to be in her mind for the past week.

  Calming somewhat, she sipped the water and watched him as he remained knelling before her. While she had certainly noticed he was shirtless, she hadn’t really thought hard upon the implications of being alone with him in such a state of undress. Because of what she could do, she’d never been with a man before. Not in the biblical sense. She’d been kissed before, and their thoughts had ruined the moment. “I’m sorry. I came before you were ready for me. I’ll go.”

  He shrugged, every muscle on him rippling and holding her attention. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

  “You’re not decent,” she said, nodding to his bare chest.

/>   He laughed, and the sound was rich and deep. It tickled her in her nether regions. “Miss, I’m hardly ever decent. Best you learn that from the get go.”

  The implications in his voice weren’t lost on her. Normally, she’d ignore the suggestion, having learned long ago men were often crude. Instantly, her mind wandered to what it might be like having a man such as Gabriel in her bed. Her mouth went dry. She gulped the water in a very unladylike fashion.

  He stayed close, knelt before her, watching her with curious eyes. “I’ve been waitin’ for a chance to have a proper introduction. You’re interestin’, Ms. Carpenter.”

  “Adeline,” she said softly. “Please. Everyone here at the show calls me Adeline, or Addy even. Your choice.”

  He inclined his head. “Then by all means, call me Gabriel.”

  She pressed a tight smile to her face. She’d overheard others talking about him. He hadn’t permitted them such familiarities. She felt special, though she secretly suspected he was only letting her feel like he was letting her in so that he could get the inside scoop on her.

  He remained close, his hand on her knee. “I’ve found you incredibly elusive. You intrigue me. You’re a mentalist?”

  She nearly took offense to the question but understood his concern. Over her lifespan, she’d run into too many fakes to count. She knew what she did was rare, and it was even rarer for someone like her to sell their gifts. “No. We have one of those. I’m not him.”

  Gabriel put his other hand on her other knee. “Then how do you do it? I’ve questioned patrons of your tent after a readin’, and they seem fully convinced you’re the real deal. What trickery do you use?”

  “Trickery?”

  He leaned in, and his long, wavy black hair fell forward, nearly spilling onto her lap. She wanted to touch it, to run her hands through it. The self-restraint it took to keep from making contact with him was immeasurable. What lure did this man have over her?