She still had to sort through some of her photographs, as well. She wanted to start putting together a portfolio to show several of the gallery owners around Santa Fe who featured such work. And she had to find the manila envelope with copies of her college degrees, teaching certificates and letters of recommendation, all of which she’d need to have on hand when she applied for a substitute teaching job with the local school district.
The sooner she could start bringing in a little money, the more secure she would feel. Then she could decide what to do about the inheritance she found herself wanting less and less the more she knew about Ethan Merritt and the brother and son he had abandoned.
Chapter 4
“So, now what am I going to do?” Gabriel demanded, pacing the length of Cullen Bimey’s office.
After spending over an hour with Sid Tuckerman, a loan officer at United Bank of Santa Fe, Gabriel had realized he was going to have a much harder time paying off Madelyn St. James than he had ever anticipated. In desperate need of advice from someone he could trust, he had called Cullen. When his friend had insisted they meet at once, Gabriel had readily agreed.
“First, you’re going to stop doing your damnedest to wear a hole in my carpet. Sit, take a few deep breaths and try to calm down,” Cullen instructed.
“Sorry.” Offering the lawyer an apologetic smile, Gabriel flung himself into one of the chairs in front of Cullen’s desk. “I know histrionics never help matters any. But I feel like I’m about to come apart at the seams. There has to be some way to get out from under my debt to Ms. St. James, aside from selling the house to a third party.”
“While that does remain an option, I think we should look upon it as a last resort,” Cullen advised.
“Fine. I’d like nothing better. But then, how am I going to get the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars I owe her? While the bank will gladly accept the house as collateral for a second mortgage payable over a maximum of fifteen years, I’m not earning nearly enough to make the payments, much less have anything left to live on.
“The most I figure I can borrow under the bank’s terms is one hundred thousand dollars. Even then, she will still be due a hundred and fifty thousand I have no way of paying.”
“Maybe she would settle for the hundred thousand.”
“I can’t ask her to do that.”
“Why not? Too proud?” Cullen asked.
Talk about hitting the nail on the head.
“I just don’t want to be beholden to her,” Gabriel muttered, looking away as the heat of a blush warmed his face.
“What about talking to some of the other banks or savings-and-loan companies around town?”
“I suppose it’s worth a try. But it’s going to take time to set up appointments. Added to the time it’s going to take to actually be approved for the loan, we’re talking months instead of weeks before I have any cash in hand. She may not want to wait that long.”
“She didn’t seem all that anxious to get her hands on the money when we talked on Thursday,” Cullen said. “Seemed to me her biggest worry was finding an inexpensive place to stay, and since you’re letting her use the cottage, she’s all set.”
“But I only meant that to be a temporary arrangement—very temporary,” Gabriel argued.
“So she stays a couple of months instead of a couple of weeks. What could it hurt?”
Gabriel had no answer to that. At least not one he could give his friend without revealing how Madelyn St. James’s presence in the cottage had already begun to threaten the emotional stability he had worked so hard to regain after Lily finally left him.
By his own choosing, he had spent as little time as possible with Madelyn. Just a couple of hours on Thursday when Cullen had brought her to the house, and another thirty minutes or so Sunday night.
Yet, thoughts of her crept into his mind constantly, day or night, whether he was alone or with others. And some of those thoughts—the sensual, sexual ones that teased him at the oddest moments—he had no right thinking about a woman he hardly knew. Especially a woman who, until quite recently, had been involved with his half brother.
He had tried following Ethan’s “act” once already. But, compared to him, Gabriel had been a grave disappointment to Lily—as she had made a point of telling him any number of times.
Granted, Madelyn St. James seemed more sensible, not to mention much more steadfast, than his ex-wife. But that didn’t mean she would be less likely to find him a poor substitute for the “real thing” she’d once had.
Setting himself up just to be shot down would be a truly foolhardy thing to do. And the best way of avoiding that was avoiding her. Which he would be able to do much more easily if they weren’t living in such close proximity to each other.
Frustrated, Gabriel stood and walked to the window. The sun had set half an hour ago, and down below, the sidewalks lining the Plaza were empty. But only momentarily so. A couple came into view, wandering hand in hand along the storefronts, window-shopping, followed by a laughing, chattering group of teenagers.
“I suppose you’re right,” Gabriel responded at last, his lack of conviction evident in his tone of voice.
“I am right. One way or another, you’re going to have Ms. St. James around longer than you expected. Wouldn’t you rather use that time to get the loan you need with payments you can manage over a reasonable length of time than put the house up for sale?”
“What I would really like is another choice altogether,” Gabriel retorted with more than a hint of his normally good humor.
“Oh, please. Give me a break, will you?” Cullen chided. “Having Madelyn St. James living in the cottage can’t be that bad. She’s young, she’s lovely, she’s intelligent, and best of all, she doesn’t seem to be out for herself at your expense. You could do a lot worse, and not only tenant-wise, if you know what I mean.”
Even without the suggestive wink Cullen used to punctuate his words, Gabriel knew exactly what his friend meant.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want or need a tenant. And I’m certainly not in the market for whatever else you think she might have to offer.”
“That’s a shame, Gabe. I have a feeling she could be good for you—real good—in more ways than one. You’ve been alone a long time. Too long, if you ask me.”
“Well, I’m not,” Gabriel shot back. Then, making a show of glancing at his watch, he added, “Oh, wow, I didn’t realize it was so late. Brian’s Scout meeting is almost over, and it’s my night to drive the car pool.”
“Coward,” Cullen muttered good-naturedly, pushing away from his desk and standing as Gabriel slipped into his overcoat.
“Really, I have to go.”
Though he tried to sound contrite, Gabriel heard only relief in his own voice.
“Do you want me to call Ms. St. James and explain the situation to her, or do you want to talk to her yourself? Personally, I think you ought to do the honors, but if you’re as eager to avoid her as you seem to be, I guess I can—”
“Damn it, Cullen, cut the crap,” Gabriel interjected, laughing in exasperation. “I’ll talk to her, all right?”
“That really would be best,” his friend agreed in a solemn tone belied by the merry twinkle in his eyes. “Just be sure to let me know how she responds.”
“I will.”
With a wave of his hand, Gabriel let himself out of Cullen’s office, hurried down the stairs and headed toward the side street where he had parked his truck. The drive to Brian’s elementary school—where the four rambunctious boys waited for him under their leader’s supervision—took less than five minutes.
His son’s friends all lived within a few blocks of the Serrano house, so dropping them off was quick and easy. They themselves arrived home just after six-thirty.
Brian noted that Madelyn’s car was already parked in the garage and the lights were on in the cottage. He also suggested they stop to say hello, an idea Gabriel swiftly nixed.
“But Dad—”
“You were over there almost two hours yesterday,” Gabriel said. “Give the lady a rest, okay?”
“She didn’t mind my visiting,” Brian reminded him for the umpteenth time since he’d come back from the cottage last night.
“That was yesterday and she was expecting you. We can’t just barge in on her whenever we feel like it, you know?”
Actually, Gabriel was planning on doing just that after Brian went to bed, but he would just as soon his son not know about it.
“She said I could come back anytime.”
“But she’s not really expecting you again until Thursday,” Gabriel pointed out as patiently as he could.
According to Brian, he had an invitation to return after school on Thursday, the soonest he could make it since he’d had a Scout meeting today and a prior invitation to spend Wednesday afternoon at Donny’s house.
“As a courtesy to her, I think you should abide by that agreement, okay?”
“Okay.”
Reluctantly, Brian headed across the courtyard with Gabriel following a few steps behind him.
By nine o’clock Brian was finally in bed asleep, and Gabriel realized he had put off his visit with Madelyn as long as he could. He wasn’t all that eager to share the news he’d had that day. Nonetheless, he shrugged into his denim jacket and let himself out of the house.
As he walked across the courtyard, he wished he had told her to have a telephone line of her own installed. That way he could have called first to let her know he was on his way.
Granted, he had said they would talk again tonight. But by now, she could have given up on him. It was still fairly early. However, if she wasn’t planning on going out again, she could have already changed into her nightclothes. Alone in the cozy cottage, he would have made himself comfortable.
He would have started a fire in the fireplace, as he could see she had done by the smoke swirling into the darkness above the roofline. And he would have turned on some music, as the faint strains of a string quartet drifting into the night indicated she had done, as well. Then he would have turned the lights down low, poured himself a glass of wine and stretched out on the sofa.
In his mind, Gabriel could picture her in a long, white nightgown, ruffles at her wrists and throat, her hair loose around her shoulders—
What brought him up short, cursing under his breath, was that he had pictured himself there with her, as well. Stretched out beside her, holding her close.
Damn Cullen for stirring him up. He’d had a hard enough time schooling his thoughts on his own. Then his friend just had to go and give him even more ideas.
Dragging in a gulp of icy air, Gabriel slowly counted to ten. Finally, having regained a modicum of his emotional equilibrium, he rapped sharply on the door.
If she wasn’t completely clothed, he wouldn’t set foot inside the cottage. He would make some excuse and walk back across the courtyard just as fast as he—
“Just a minute,” Madelyn called out.
As had happened Sunday, the music ceased, and a moment later the door swung open.
Though her smile wasn’t quite as wide or as welcoming as it had been the other night, she seemed reasonably glad to see him. And much to Gabriel’s relief, she was fully dressed in oversize, charcoal gray sweats that did almost too good a job disguising her luscious figure.
Actually, with her hair caught back at the nape of her neck with a gold clip and her face devoid of makeup, she should have looked plain as a brown paper bag. But he doubted she could have looked any more alluring to him had she come to the door wearing only the slinkiest of silk undergarments.
Groaning inwardly, Gabriel shoved his hands deep in his jacket pockets as he inhaled another deep breath of frigid air.
“Sorry I’m so late getting over here,” he began. “But I thought it would be best to wait until Brian was asleep. Otherwise, he would have insisted on coming with me.”
“No problem.” She stood aside and gestured for him to enter. “How about some coffee? It’s decaf, but I just brewed a fresh pot.”
“Sounds good.”
He would have really preferred one of the beers she’d mentioned the other night, but didn’t have the nerve to suggest it. At least with coffee, he’d be more apt to keep his wits about him.
“How do you take it?”
“Just black.”
“Make yourself at home.” She nodded toward the sofa, adding, “I’ll be right back.”
Gabriel slipped out of his jacket, hung it on one of the pegs by the door, then sat in a corner of the sofa. As he stretched his booted feet out to the fire, savoring the warmth radiating from the gently flickering flames, he glanced around the cottage.
She had set out several framed photographs along the wall behind the oak table and chairs. He couldn’t tell what they were of at that distance, but all appeared to be black-and-white rather than color prints.
More artistic than what he’d seen of Ethan’s work, he thought, wishing there were some way he could take a closer look at them without being obvious about it. He would also like to get a look at the photographs scattered on the table.
She had shown Brian some of her pictures yesterday afternoon. Really great shots she had taken of really beautiful birds somewhere in Central America, he had said. Gabriel wanted to see for himself just how good they really were. But he didn’t want to risk getting caught nosing around in what was essentially her business.
“How did your meeting with the bank go?” she asked as she stepped out of the kitchen, carrying a small tray upon which she’d set two steaming mugs of black coffee, a plate of the brownies Brian had all but swooned over and a stack of napkins.
So much for small talk, Gabriel mused, watching her as she moved toward him. Maybe she was more avaricious than he had wanted to believe. But there was no greedy gleam in her eyes, and her mild tone had been that of someone making polite conversation.
“Not as well as I’d hoped,” he admitted.
No sense prevaricating. The bottom line would have to be broached eventually, and he’d prefer to do it sooner rather than later.
“Oh?” She sat down on the opposite side of the sofa and set the tray on the center cushion separating them.
“Getting the loan may take a little longer than I’d anticipated.”
He was hedging a bit, but he saw no reason to go into worst-case scenarios just yet.
“I’m not in any real hurry for the money.” Picking up one of the mugs, she offered it to him, then waved a hand at the brownies. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks.”
Unable to resist, Gabriel set his coffee mug on the end table and took one of the thick, moist brownies—chock-full of chocolate chips and slathered with a layer of fudge frosting—along with a napkin. One bite assured him Brian had not exaggerated when he’d said they were the best he had ever eaten.
“Of course, it would be a help if I could stay here until everything has been settled.”
“You’re welcome to use the cottage as long as you want,” he assured her.
“I hate to impose,” she said, fixing her gaze on the fire as she sipped her coffee. “But until I find a job—”With a rueful shake of her head, she halted in midsentence. “Sorry. I’m crying poor when I’m not really that bad off. I’ll probably be able to sell a few of my photographs through one of the galleries I’ve seen around town. And I’ve applied for a substitute teaching job with the local school district. One way or another, I’ll have money coming in soon. Then I’ll be able to move into a place of my own.”
“Well, there’s no rush as far as I’m concerned,” Gabriel replied, and to his surprise, realized he meant it.
She was being more than generous toward him in her willingness to wait for the money he owed her, and having her around wasn’t proving to be a burden. So why chase her off?
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Finished with his brownie, he wiped his fingers on his napkin, then reached for his coffee
. “Have you talked to anyone at any of the galleries?”
“No, not yet.”
“I went to school with Henry Martin, the owner of Martin’s Gallery on Palace Avenue. I’ll give him a call tomorrow morning and tell him to be on the lookout for you. He’s honest and dependable. He also has a reputation for showing high-quality work. Normally, he accepts pieces from local artists only. But since you worked with Ethan and will be living here now, I imagine he’ll make an exception.”
“Especially with you to vouch for me?” Madelyn asked only half-teasingly as she glanced at him.
“That will help. But only if your work measures up.”
“Maybe you ought to take a look at some of my photographs before you go out on a limb like that for me.”
Actually, he had been hoping she would suggest he do just that. Still, he didn’t want to seem too eager.
“As long as you’re sure you don’t mind....”
“Not at all. A few of the ones I like best are already in frames. The rest are on the table. Go have a look while I get more coffee,”
Standing, she took his mug from him, then headed toward the kitchen. Snitching another brownie before he could talk himself out of it, Gabriel stood, too, and followed her across the room.
“Feel free to tell me which ones you think will be most likely to impress your friend.”
“I’m not really much of a judge where photographs are concerned,” he admitted.
“But you know what you like, don’t you?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him and flashing him a smile that went straight to his heart.
Oh, yes, he knew what he liked, Gabriel thought, holding her gaze for half a second longer than absolutely necessary. He liked her. More than he had any right to. And if he didn’t scare up some alternate female companionship soon, he was going to end up saying or doing something he would end up regretting... mightily.
“Most of the time,” he answered at last.
“Then just tell me what works for you,” she advised as she stepped into the kitchen.
Gabriel knew she was talking about her photographs. But that didn’t stop him from thinking a truly lascivious thought or two before he finally turned his attention to the photos she had taken.
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