He looked over at Gwen. She’d pulled the collar of her coat up around her jawline, and the rain had wet her hair so thoroughly, her curls were plastered to her head like finger waves on a classic Hollywood actress. He grinned, knowing she’d appreciate the analogy, but he’d have to yell it in order to be heard.
Wes was right—the horses knew their way and seemed completely unfazed by the weather. The clouds had darkened the sky so much that Gabe was having a hard time seeing up ahead, but he trusted his mount, and he also trusted Wes. From what Amber had mentioned to him, all the Westons had grown up on this land, and he believed that Wes was more than capable of leading them to safety.
At last, the trees broke, and the ground seemed to level out. They exited the forest and headed toward the ranch, but now the rain really pounded on them. By the time they reached the stables, Gabe and Gwen were both laughing and sputtering at the torrents that were pouring down their faces.
“Right on time,” Wyatt said as they dismounted in the yard just outside the stable doors. “Get a little wet?”
“Not bad,” Wes said. “Here, let me give you a hug, brother.” He held out his arms, and water streamed from both of them. “Just a little hug.”
“No, thanks.” Wyatt side-stepped.
“Oh, come on. One little hug.”
Gabe watched with amusement as Wes chased his brother around the yard and through the stable. Another minute or two, and Wyatt would be just as wet, but that wasn’t the point—he didn’t want to get caught.
Gwen leaned up against the stable, safe from the run under the overhang, but visibly shivering. “Did you have a good time, Gabe?”
He joined her, and they looked out over the yard and toward the buildings beyond it. “It’s been a fantastic day. Even getting soaked to the skin.” He turned and looked at her. “Do you need a ride to your place so you can change?”
“I actually keep a few sets of clothes here on the ranch because I never know what’s going to happen during the course of a day,” she explained. “I can shower and everything.”
“A shower sounds great,” Gabe replied. “Of course, that means running through the rain to get to the bunkhouse.”
“Are you chicken?” she teased.
“Chicken? Never!” He reached out, grabbed her hand, and they ran together across the yard, reaching the porch of the bunkhouse out of breath and laughing. “I’ll see you in a while for dinner,” he said as he opened the door, and they parted ways in the lobby.
Chapter Seven
Gwen had been nervous that the rain would ruin their dinner plans. But as she stepped out of the hot shower in a spare room of the main house, she glanced out the window and saw that the storm was passing. Thank goodness.
She texted Natasha and asked her to be sure to tidy up this room the next morning. It was a room the employees often used for cleaning up in emergencies—if there was a kitchen disaster or one of the animals vomited all over them or something. They only rented it out when they were filled to capacity, but they kept it ready all the time anyway.
One of the outfits she kept on hand was a black sequined sweater and skirt. From time to time, special events were held at the ranch and she’d be expected to make an appearance. She put on the outfit after she dried her hair, then applied her makeup, also something she kept at the ranch. She often wondered if she shouldn’t just move out here, but they hadn’t built employee barracks yet even though she kept telling Wade they should. He said their building budget was being used up with the projects Mr. and Mrs. Weston were assigning them, and she guessed she could see that.
A touch more lipstick and she was ready to go. She shoved her wet clothes into a sack to be dropped off in the laundry room, looked around to make sure that she hadn’t left behind any personal belongings, and closed the door tightly behind her. Ten minutes later, she was waiting in the lobby of the bunkhouse.
“You look great,” Carly told her. “Mr. Grant’s eyes are going to bug out of their sockets.”
“I don’t know about that,” Gwen started, but was interrupted by a male voice.
“She’s right. My eyes are bugging. It’s almost painful, really.” Gabe grinned as he walked across the lobby wearing a navy blue suit with a crisp white shirt. “Is this all right?” he asked, motioning to his clothes.
“Perfect,” Carly replied. “Oh, wait, that question wasn’t for me, was it? I’ll just go . . . over here . . . and do something else.” She made herself scarce.
Gwen laughed. “Yes, you do look perfect,” she said. “I’m ready if you are.”
“I am. Are you feeling all right? Not going to get pneumonia from our little adventure in the rain?”
“I feel great. In fact, I feel better than great.”
When they stepped out onto the porch, Gabe caught her arm. “Allow me to go first,” he said. “If Bigfoot’s lurking in the bushes, he should squirt me this time, not you.”
All was clear, so he led her down the steps and to his car.
The rain had filled the air with a wonderful fresh autumn scent that came in through the vents of the car as they drove. Gwen rested her arm on the windowsill, leaned back, and sighed.
“That was a happy sound,” Gabe commented as he negotiated a turn in the road. “Are you ready to tell me your news, or should that wait for dinner?”
“I can tell you now. It might be a little loud in the restaurant.” She cleared her throat. “I received a significant raise today.” Wade had emailed her over the specifics, and they’d popped up on her phone an hour or so before. “And so, dear sir, tonight’s dinner is on me.”
“That is good news,” Gabe replied. “I love it when people buy me dinner.” He paused just long enough for her to act indignant. “And when they get significant raises. Congratulations.”
“It just nails down for me that I’m exactly where I should be. I’d never make this much at any other resort, and I’m treated like family. Law school . . . yeah. Not so much.”
“I’m not sure I ever understood why,” Gabe said. “You were a great student—getting A’s in every class.”
“Yes, but that was the bookwork. I can memorize just about anything if I concentrate hard enough, but you know there’s more to being a lawyer than memorizing facts and precedents. There has to be a passion, a commitment to the cause, and I can get in there and fight for the underdog, but not every lawyer gets to be so selective with their cases. I couldn’t handle the thought of defending someone I believed was guilty or arguing cases that I really didn’t care about. It was when we did that mock trial, remember, and I was supposed to defend a dog food company from an accusation of stealing a recipe for yummy tummy bacon biscuits.”
Gabe laughed. “I remember that very well.”
“How can a person be expected to feel passionate about biscuits? I slogged my way through that assignment and got a good grade, but there are some things you can’t do if you don’t feel them in your gut, and the law is one of those things.”
Gabe nodded. “I can see your point, and yes, being a lawyer is something that takes a huge emotional investment. If you’re not feeling it, maybe it’s best to find something else. I still think you would have been incredible, though.”
“Thank you. I did enjoy writing up that argument against the men arrested for dog fighting. Funny how so many of our fake cases revolved around dogs.”
“Ahem. Alleged dog fighting.”
“Whatever. That practice paper allowed me to feel some of the adrenaline that would go into arguing an important case, but it was in short supply that semester.”
“And now you have a sense of fulfillment with what you’re doing.”
“I really do. I love helping people, and I’ve gotten to travel, and while I don’t experience huge emotional rushes, I also don’t experience huge loads of stress. My worst days are when the pipes break or a guest gets injured doing one of our activities, but even those things are simple to resolve because we have protocol in place, and I just
follow that protocol.”
“Whereas I love the emotional rushes, and I’ll take the stress that goes with them,” Gabe replied with a chuckle. “We don’t have to find the same satisfaction in every single thing, Gwen. I’m just glad that there are certain things we both enjoy. Like good meals.”
“And good movies,” she added.
“And hopefully, spending time with each other.”
She swallowed. “Yes, like that. Oh, there’s our turn. Right here.”
A moment later, they pulled into the parking lot of the Oval Office, and a few minutes after that, they were seated.
“We’re lucky we’re on a Tuesday,” Gwen said as she picked up her menu. “It’s really hard to get a table on the weekends.”
“So what was that gorgonzola thing you mentioned?” he asked.
“It’s the New York Gangster steak. There.” She reached over and pointed to it on his menu.
“Wow. That does sound good. I think I’m going for the Turk, though. I haven’t had good lamb in forever.”
They placed their orders when the waiter returned, and they both chose ice water as their beverage. “I remember how much water you went through while we were studying,” Gwen said. “I just knew you were going to break a tooth chomping on those ice cubes.”
“Um, I actually did,” he said, looking embarrassed. “While I was studying for the bar.”
“Oh, no!” Gwen laughed. “Sorry. That’s not funny. But it actually is in a way.”
“I really should have listened to you. I apologize most humbly.” He gave a slight bow—as much as he could while sitting at a table.
“Thank you. That’s most gentlemanly of you.”
The waiter brought their salads. They didn’t talk much as they chewed, but Gwen used this opportunity to study Gabe without him knowing he was being studied. They’d been sitting side by side on the couch the night before, and they rode side by side that afternoon, so now, sitting straight across from him, was her chance.
And she didn’t see a single thing about him she would change. The same sparkle in his green eyes, the same confidence that came from knowing he was living his life according to his own high moral code—one of the things she’d always loved best about him. He was still the same man he always was in all the ways that mattered.
They ate until they were completely full, and then ate just a little bit more. “We have to feel like we’re really celebrating,” Gwen explained as she buttered another slice of bread. “If we ate responsibly and counted our calories and all that, we wouldn’t be getting into the spirit of this thing at all.”
“I see. And the spirit is the most important part.”
“Absolutely. So, what do you say? Do you feel celebratory yet?”
“I do. I really do. I also feel the need to change into some pants with an elastic waistband.” He patted his perfectly flat stomach.
Gwen signaled for the check and slid her card into the folder the waiter handed her. “I feel like such a woman of the world,” she said. “Taking a handsome man out to dinner, handling the check. I hardly know what to do with myself.”
“It’s impressive,” Gabe replied. “And what will you do next?”
Gwen considered that. “I really don’t know. I’m not a fur wearer, or a fur coat might be the next step up.”
“I’m glad you’re not a fur wearer because I would sneeze.”
Once the bill was paid, they went back out to the car and began the drive home. Gwen was entirely, perfectly happy as she settled back into her seat.
Gabe pulled over about halfway between Post Falls and Riston, choosing a spot that was probably quite picturesque when it wasn’t pitch black outside.
“Why are we stopping?” Gwen asked.
“Because . . . because I think we need to have a little talk,” he said.
Her heart froze and then started beating again painfully. She’d never been involved in any pleasant conversation that started that way. “About what?”
He reached out and took her hand. It was so familiar—the most familiar hand she’d ever touched. “I can’t move forward through this week pretending that there’s nothing going on,” he said. “From the minute I first saw you again, I’ve been reminded of how much we once meant to each other, and you know what—those feelings haven’t gone away for me. I decided a long time ago that I wanted to be married and I started looking for the right woman, but she never came along because I think I’d already found her—and then lost her because I was an idiot.”
Gwen blinked rapidly. She didn’t want to cry, but it looked like it was going to happen whether she liked it or not.
“So I guess what I’m saying is, I’d like to spend the rest of this week finding out what we have here. What do you think?”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” she said when she found her voice at last.
He grinned and reached out to cup her face with his hand. Then he brought her in for a kiss that was so gentle and sweet, she felt something within her die when he pulled away because she missed it.
“I’m glad,” he said, then started the engine up again.
Chapter Eight
“Good morning.” Gabe walked up to the registration desk and leaned on it. “I’m heading over to the diner for some breakfast. Can I bring you anything?”
He looked fresh as a daisy this morning—he must not have been awake half the night like Gwen had been, tossing and turning and questioning everything she’d ever done in her entire life. It hadn’t been entirely unpleasant, though—she’d relived that brief kiss about two dozen times and enjoyed every minute of it.
“I’m fine, thanks. You still like waffles, right?”
He shook his head. “My dear lady, one does not move past one’s love for waffles. It’s something that grows inside you and that you carry with you through all the days of your life.”
“That’s a little creepy. Despite that, though, I highly recommend them.”
“Sounds good.” He began to whistle as he walked through the door—whistling? He’d definitely gotten more sleep than she did.
The phone rang a few minutes after the door closed behind him. “River’s End Ranch. How can I help you?”
“Hello. I’m calling from Judge Grant’s office. I’ve been trying to reach him on his cell, but it seems to be turned off. Can you help me get in touch with him? It’s important.”
Gwen craned her neck to look out the window. Gabe was already out of sight. “He’s not in his room right now, but I can give him a message to call you,” she replied.
“Thank you so much.” The young woman on the other end sounded relieved. “I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. Have a good day.”
As soon as Gwen hung up, she called out to Mira, who was cleaning the lobby bathroom and was closest to the front desk. “Can you watch the counter for a sec? I’ll be gone ten minutes.”
“Sure,” Mira replied as she pulled off her latex gloves and tossed them into the trash.
Gwen ran out of the building and toward the diner. Gabe was sitting at the counter studying a menu when she caught up to him.
“Hey,” he said when she called his name. “Did you change your mind? Can I buy you breakfast?”
“No, but thanks.” She was just a little out of breath, she hated to admit. “You got a call at the front desk from your office. They said it was important.”
He reached in his pocket and pulled out his cell. “Oh, looks like I turned it off. Thanks, Gwen.”
She could tell that his mind had instantly shifted to work, and she needed to get back to the desk anyway. “You’re welcome.” She walked back the way she’d come, considerably slower this time, and sent Mira back to cleaning the bathroom.
Gabe came in a few minutes later, some takeout boxes from the diner in a sack in his hand. “I need to lock myself away in my room for a while,” he said. “Is it all right that I brought in outside food?”
Gwen laughed. “The food we
use for room service comes from the diner and the dining room,” she replied. “You just saved us a trip across the parking lot.”
“That was very kind of me.”
“Yes, it was. Is everything all right?”
“Um, mostly. Nothing I can talk about right now, but we’ll have dinner and a movie tonight, okay?”
“Okay.” She watched him hit the button to the elevator, but when the doors didn’t open right away, he turned and took the stairs two at a time. Whatever he was up to, it was something important.
***
Gabe took a minute to arrange his takeout containers on top of the dresser in his room. Knowing he’d be tucked in here for a few hours at least, he’d asked the waitress to suggest some good brain food, and she’d come through like a champ. She was a cute thing, obviously pregnant, and also very much into spicy food—he’d had to rein her in a little bit on that one, but she took it well. Now his box of waffles was set to the left, a sandwich and chips in the middle, and an assortment of cookies in a box on the right. He also had four bottled waters and two Diet Cokes. If that didn’t see him through, he didn’t know what would.
He sat down at the small table near the window that looked out toward the mountains and ate his waffles. The cook had diced up bacon and mixed it in with the batter, and it was delicious. He didn’t even allow himself to think about the phone call until he’d eaten—he needed some blood sugar before he could face this.
Then he stood up, crossed the room, and flopped on the bed.
He’d just found out he was in the running to be named head judge over his district.
He pressed his hands into his eye sockets. He’d wanted this position for a long time and worked toward it, and now it was just within his reach. But there was another judge also being considered, and while it wasn’t standard protocol, he and the other man were being asked to write up a statement about the position, what they would bring to it, and to list what they felt were their greatest achievements to date. And he was expected to email that over by six that evening.
Welcome Wagon (River's End Ranch Book 13) Page 5