The grin on his face faded.
His dad. And his mom. Both tough as leather chaps and just as durable. Long days and short nights pulling the ranch together hadn’t fazed them. They just looked to each other for support and kept on plowing along.
His jaw grew tight when Nick and Zac popped into his mind. Sure, Zac did his fair share, handling the business end from Denver. The good Lord knew Gabe didn’t want to go anywhere near the city for longer than a day. But Nick? How did driving cross-country, riding bulls, and banging himself up help the overall scheme of things? His wife’s death had been a shock to everyone, but Nick continued to punish himself.
Gabe needed him back on the Circle D. Now. Before Gabe tangled up so many ends it would take an explosion to fix it all.
Water gurgled around the rocks beneath his feet. A drop of water spit into the air and landed on his hand. The truth of the matter boiled down to Nick and Zac grabbing their gold rings when the carousel of life had swept by. And Gabe had just watched and skipped his turn.
Don’t worry. Gabe will take care of it. The familiar refrain rang through his head.
He skipped a pebble into the water, disrupting the echo of Zac’s voice in his ear. Everyone just assumed Gabe would be around to keep the ranch going. He jammed his hand in his front pocket and picked his way along the river edge. Had anyone ever asked him if he had plans? Did he even know?
“Gabe, wanna fish?”
He ruffled Jason’s hair. “Get any bites yet?”
“Mr. Martin said to keep my pole loose so the bait looks natural.” He looked sideways at this line. “Do you think it looks natural?”
“Like a pro.” Gabe grinned and the tension in his shoulders eased. “Fishing takes patience. Just wait. They’ll bite.”
“You wanna help us?” Jason scooted over to make room.
“You and Dad have the best spot along this river. How about if I go talk to your mom so she doesn’t get lonely?”
Jason frowned at the tip of his pole. “I think I felt something.”
“Remember, Bud.” Gabe watched the tip of the pole. “Stay loose.”
The boy just nodded his head.
Yes, sir. That boy needs to go fishing more often. He glanced over to the grassy area under the fringe of the ponderosa pine. Melanie smiled in their direction—whether at him or her son, Gabe wasn’t certain. He didn’t care, either. She wasn’t mad at him anymore, and that meant more to him than all the fish in the river.
No way was he going to stop and figure that one out.
He stepped through the tall grasses. “Looks like you found the only comfy spot around.”
“I’ve sat on enough rocks to know I want grass when it’s around.”
“Smart girl.”
She squinted at him. “How about you?”
“Cushion sounds pretty good right now.” Gabe settled on the grass beside her.
Melanie laughed. “Cool fresh air and a hard seat, or soft, sweet padding and gnats buzzing around.”
He would remember her laugh well past the heat of summer. Probably into the dead of winter. Maybe clear into next spring. “I can deal with gnats.”
“It’s really beautiful up here.”
With unconscious grace, she tucked her hair from her face exposing her dainty ear. “Beauty can be found anywhere you look.”
“Hmm, I wasn’t thinking philosophical.” She smiled, showing straight teeth and a tiny dimple at the corner of her mouth. “I mean this is the kind of place postcards are made of.”
He pulled a blade of timothy grass and stuck it in his mouth. “A lot of the National Forest in this end of the state is wooded like this. You’ll have your groves of aspen fringing the pines that stretch up to the higher elevations, and then a mix of pasture or rock face just to break up the monotony.”
“A postcard and the tour guide to go with it. Can’t beat that.”
“Yeah, well.” He looked up at the cloudless sky. “I never get tired of it.”
“I envy you.”
Gabe turned at her wistful sigh. “Why?”
“You know what you want.” She dropped her gaze and began to pick at a thread on her jeans. “You get to live it.”
He coughed at that irony. He hadn’t had much choice. “My life is what it is. You’ve got the best of all worlds.”
She tipped her chin. “I do?”
He tipped his head toward the river where Jason stood at the edge of the water. “Yes, ma’am. He’s going to grow into a fine young man with a love for bugs and the outdoors.”
“Jason can’t help but know bugs.” Her shy laugh told him she loved every moment. “Hey, I’m the best draw on show-and-tell days at school.”
“Do you bring in live examples?”
“I have the kids catch all the bugs in the playground, we sit at the tables outside and I tell them what they’ve found. That’s the educational part. Sooner or later, some boy tosses his specimen on a girl, and then that’s all she wrote.”
“You mean boys still do that sort of thing?”
She scrunched her face into an are you kidding? expression. “That sport will go on through time as long as boys are boys and girls are girls. Only now, the girls don’t hesitate to throw their bugs back at the boys.”
Gabe watched his dad and Jason put their heads together as Martin pointed over the water. “Kids are great.”
“Yeah, they are.”
At the river, Jason stepped to the side and bobbed his pole a little more. His dad wore a grin Gabe hadn’t seen in a long time. “Someday…”
The sweet smell of sage wrapped around them. Melanie shot him a look from beneath her raised brow. “Is someday very far off? Maybe with a cute strawberry blonde?”
“Hmm?”
Melanie shrugged her shoulders. “You know. From church this morning.”
Strawberry blonde? Jennifer? Was that the color of her hair?
Gabe shook his head. “We’ve grown up together.” He thought back to school and summer breaks. “Actually she used to tag along behind Zac, but then, who didn’t? The kid was a Pied Piper of trouble. I think I remember Jen getting grounded for a week helping him with some harebrained scheme. Come to think of it, lots of kids got in trouble following Zac.”
“I take it you were an angel?”
“Far from it.” He chuckled at the thought. “I had the common decency to keep trouble contained to family members and didn’t spread misery through town.”
“How noble.” She tossed a pebble at him. Squared him on the stomach. Her eyes grew wide, but she threw another anyway. “So, this barbecue. Sounds like we’re going to have lots of help.”
“I knew you would.” He tossed a pebble back. “Just consider yourself a coordinator.”
She ducked the shot. “The ladies at your church all seem so nice and welcoming.”
“They love visitors and they love to cook. You’ve provided them with both. If you want to see a feast, you should be here for the Labor Day picnic. Our country deserves all the respect we can give it, and the ladies show respect right with food.”
“Maybe I’ll have to put Labor Day on my schedule.”
“You wouldn’t be disappointed.” Tables laden with pies, breads and casseroles created the most mouth-watering smells as the pastor gave his Labor Day sermon outside beside the banquet in a tent. “God does provide, and on that day we give thanks for so much.”
“I’d love to—”
“Mom! I caught a fish!” Jason yelled from the riverbank. “It’s huge!”
Chapter Eight
“Play it to the right.” Blood pumped through Gabe’s veins to rival the excitement in Jason’s voice. “Keep a steady hand, Bud. That’s right.”
“It’s stuck.” He gave the pole a jerk. “I can’t move it any closer.”
“The fish know what rocks to hide behind. Don’t worry, he won’t get away.”
Water splashed as the fish jumped in the air. Gabe squeezed Jason’s shoulder and angled his b
ody toward the fish. “Keep your eye on the fish.”
“He’s coming closer.”
“Hold ’em steady,” Martin directed from beside Jason. “I’ll grab the line.”
Jason held still, his hands locked on the pole and reel. Martin caught the taut fishing line and pulled the fish straight up out of the water. Flapping in the air, the trout refused to give up.
“He’s huge.” Jason angled his pole to the side. Eyes wide open, he turned to Gabe. “He’s huge.”
“That he is, Bud.” Pride spread through Gabe. “Mighty nice fish for your first time.”
“Jason.” Melanie drew up close beside him, her fingers tugging on his sleeve for balance on the smooth river rock. “That’s a great catch. Let me get a picture.”
Gabe leaned back to give her full view of her son and his prize. She snapped two shots. He urged her back a couple steps as water splashed over his boots. “Can we continue the photo op on dry ground?”
Her megawatt smile never faded. “Oops, sorry. Got carried away.” She tucked her camera into her pocket. “C’mon Jason, let me see him.”
Martin held the fish while Jason hopped to the bank, his pole still securely in his hands. “Mom! I did it. I caught a fish.”
“From the looks of him, I’d say a three-pounder. Nice size, Bud.” Gabe joined Martin on the bank.
Martin removed the hook while Grace, Hank and Melanie congratulated Jason. Gabe couldn’t have felt any prouder of him than if he’d caught a record trout himself. Jason sported a grin to split his face.
“Thanks for your help, Gabe. I’m glad he didn’t get away.”
“Another couple times out and you’ll be a pro.”
“Here, young man.” Martin offered the stringer holding the fish. “Hold your trophy.”
Melanie backed up. “Smile, Jason.” She snapped a few shots. “I need his coaches in the picture, too.” She waved to him and his dad.
Gabe took his place beside Jason, Martin on the other side. Melanie issued directions like a professional photographer. He couldn’t help but grin. He hadn’t enjoyed fishing this much since…he couldn’t remember when. Grace and Hank joined the picture, too.
“Melanie, you get in the picture.” Grace left the lineup and took the camera from Melanie. Hank and Martin moved aside. Melanie took Martin’s spot next to Gabe with Jason standing between them.
She looked up at him, her blue eyes gleaming. “What a day to remember.”
“Smile, you guys.” Grace took the picture. She waved her hand. “Closer.”
Automatically, his palm gripped her shoulder and pulled Melanie closer. Jason wiggled back, his fish held in front of him. Awareness of the cozy scene they presented shot through Gabe as he pressed the three of them together. His face heated as him mom snapped away and chattered about how great the pictures would look.
“Stop, Miss Grace,” Jason whined. “My arm is tired.”
Martin took the stringer from Jason. “That fish needs to go back in the water.”
Grace lowered the camera. “So Jason, are we going to catch and release, or eat ’em?”
“Eat.”
“All right, then.” Martin headed toward the water. “We’ve got some work ahead of us. Can’t feed the family on one fish like Jesus fed the five thousand.”
Gabe kept his hand on Melanie’s shoulder as Jason ran to the water edge. He urged her toward his horse.
“Where we going?” She looked up at him, confused.
He unsnapped the roll behind his cantle and pulled out the three segments of his fishing rod. “C’mon, Mom. Time for you to earn your keep.”
“Doesn’t matter to me, I like ’em.”
“Like what?” Melanie caught the tail end of their conversation when she walked through the open door into Gabe’s kitchen looking for Jason. No sooner had they returned from their ride with Martin’s saddle bags filled with fish and tended to the horses, Jason took off after Gabe carrying his one fish while Gabe handled the rest. Melanie knew if she found Gabe, she’d find Jason.
She’d been surprised to find Gabe didn’t live with his parents. Surprised and oddly relieved. He’d built a house just through a stand of pine trees on the other side of the barn and corrals. Far enough away for privacy, yet close enough for emergencies.
Since he lived alone, she didn’t know what to expect. A spacious kitchen lined with knotty pine cabinets, deep green and black granite countertops, and a bank of windows at the sink hadn’t been on her radar. The plank wood floor added style; the gleaming pots and pans suspended over the center island added class. She looked around the room, careful to keep her mouth from falling open. Nothing resembled the clutter and mess she’d seen in the ranch office.
Now, wasn’t Gabe Davidson just full of surprises?
“Fish.” Jason stood on a step stool at the sink. He held up the one he’d cleaned. “You don’t like fish.”
She flopped her pack on the island. “Fish are okay.”
“Mom wouldn’t let a dead fish in her kitchen for all the money in the world.” Jason ran his finger along the fish belly then placed it on top of the stack of fish they’d already cleaned. “She doesn’t do slimy.”
Gabe looked up from the sink. His brown eyes rimmed with thick black lashes sparkled with mischief. “They’re welcome in mine. And fish aren’t slimy.” He scraped over the side of the fish in his hand. “These are rainbow trout. You can tell because they look like they have rainbow stripes along their sides.” He handed it to Jason. “They have scales, not slime.”
“They’re slimy, like snakes.” Jason wiggled the fish over the sink.
“Snakes aren’t slimy.” Melanie found her voice. Now if she could just find her breath. “They’re slithery.”
“So?” Jason dropped the fish on top of the others they’d already cleaned. “You don’t like them, either.”
Gabe claimed the next fish. “This is a strange picture I’m seeing here. You can handle insects, wasps and spiders, but not fish or snakes?”
Her cheeks warmed. “I never said I didn’t like fish.”
“But you don’t like snakes.”
“Do you?”
Gabe handled it with ease. “They’re okay. They do a lot of good.”
Long fingers wrapped around the fish, and the muscles of his forearms bunched with little effort. She leaned against the island and fingered her pack strap to keep from staring. “So do insects, wasps and spiders. Not too crazy about mosquitoes, but hey, fish eat them.”
Jason snickered. “Good one, Mom. Watch me.”
Gabe made room at the sink whether she wanted it or not. She squeezed in between them. Jason worked like a pro. “Good job, big guy.”
“Yep.” He finished and reached for a paper towel. He wiped his hands, a satisfied look on his face. “Gabe will teach you how to do it, too. Won’t you, Gabe?”
“Sure.” He reached around her and picked up the last fish. “You’re in luck, we have one more.”
Memories of high school biology came flooding back. She raised a brow at him in silent challenge. “Great. No problem at all.”
“Here, hold the knife like this.” After placing the knife handle in her right hand, he wrapped her fingers shut. “And the fish like this.”
He kept his rough palm under her left hand for support. Her grip tightened around the cold trout. She nestled her knuckles into his palm.
“Now, right along here.”
It had been a long time since she’d attempted simple dissections. Her life revolved around pinning insects and diagramming plants. This was going to take all day. As if reading her thoughts, Gabe gripped her bunched fist and changed her angle to underhand. “Now you have leverage.”
His work-hardened hands guided her with gentle yet decisive motion. Her palms turned clammy, whether from the fish or her nerves she wasn’t certain. She did know that she hadn’t been this close to a man in years.
“Ouch.” The muscles in his arm jerked.
“Sorry
.” She pulled away. He held on tighter. What a time to daydream. She tried to drop the knife into the sink.
“Let’s try again.” His breath fluffed her hair.
She shook her bangs out of her eyes. Gabe chuckled in her ear. “Relax. I’m only letting you cut me once.”
“Sorry.” Heat flashed down her neck.
Jason drummed his fingers on the countertop. “I’m done already, Mom. You’ve got the last one. Hurry.”
“Hey, Bud, cut your mom some slack here.” The words rumbled in his chest. “You’re a pro now. We’ve got to be patient with beginners.” He chuckled in her ear again. “Slow and easy.”
Voice, don’t fail me now. “Maybe if I could have my hands back, I could do some work.”
“After this fish.”
Hands together, he led her through the steps. She paid close attention, careful not to let the knife slip. As they neared the end of the task, she worked with gusto to get the job done.
“Hey Mom, look!”
Gabe and Melanie turned at the same time. The click of the camera captured the moment. Melanie blinked at the flash as Jason lowered the camera and stood proud. “You do that to me all the time. I finally got one of you.”
“Jason.” Spots swam before her eyes.
Gabe’s arms tightened around her, his elbows fit perfectly in the curve of her waist. She leaned back into his chest, a sturdy wall of support. Giggles filled the room. Jason held the camera to his face for another shot. Melanie hoped he would remember in years to come what they were all doing that afternoon.
Just cleaning fish…
And the one in her palm kept her from taking the camera from him. “Did you wash your hands?”
“Rubbed them on my jeans.” He rewarded her with a toothy grin. “Don’t worry, your camera isn’t slimy.”
She looked up at Gabe. His suntanned jaw and slight burn across the nose filled her vision. Tiny lines appeared in the corners of his beautiful brown eyes as thick black lashes framed his humor. If another flash of the camera hadn’t disrupted her thoughts, she might have drawn closer for a better look.
Her hands remained full of fish; the knife still poised for action. “Jason Hunter, put that camera down.”
Rocky Mountain Hero Page 7