by Lori Foster
“Uh, yes, thank you.”
She acted so wary, he couldn’t help but be curious about her. She wasn’t his type—too pushy, too prim, too…red. But that didn’t mean he’d let her roast herself in the sun. His mother would hide him if she thought he’d been rude to a lady, any lady. Besides, she was kinda cute with her prissiness. In a red sort of way.
Gabe grabbed another cola for himself, then sat on the cooler. He looked at her while he drank. “So, tell me about these heroes.”
She carefully licked her lips then set the can in the grass before facing him. “I’m working on a thesis for college. I’ve interviewed about a half dozen different men who were recently commended for performing heroic acts. So far, they’ve all had similar personality types. But you—”
“No fooling? What type of personality do heroes have?”
“Well, before I tell you that, I’d like to ask you a few questions. I don’t want your answers to be biased by what the others have said.”
Gabe frowned, propping his elbows on his knees and glaring at her. “You think I’d lie?”
She rushed to reassure him. “No! Not consciously. But just to keep my study pure, I’d rather conduct all the interviews the same way.”
“But I’ve already told you, I don’t want to be interviewed.” He watched her closely, saw her frustration and accurately guessed that wasn’t typical behavior of a hero. What nonsense.
After a long minute, she said, “Okay, can I ask you something totally different?”
“Depends. Ask, then I’ll see if I want to answer.”
“Why’d you throw the fish back?”
Gabe looked over his shoulder to where he’d caught the carp, then back. “That fish I just caught?”
“Yes. Why fish if you’re not going to keep what you catch.”
He chuckled. “You don’t get out by the lake much, do you?”
“I’m actually not from around here. I’m just visiting the area—”
“To interview me?” The very idea floored him, and made him feel guilty for giving her such a hard time.
“Yes, actually.” She took another drink of the soda, then added, “I rented a place and I’m staying for the month until school starts back up. I wanted to have all my research together before then. I’d thought I was done, and I was due a short vacation, but then I read the papers about you and decided to add one more interview.”
“So you’re working during your vacation?” He snorted. That was plain nuts. Vacations were for relaxing, and the idea of wasting one to pester him didn’t make sense.
“Yes, well, let’s just say that, hopefully, I’m combining my vacation with an interview. I couldn’t resist. Your situation was unique in that every time you were quoted, you talked about someone else.”
“I remember.” The people he’d talked about were more interesting than anything he had to say about himself.
“You went on and on about how brave the two little kids were…”
“They were real sweet kids, and—”
“…and you lectured something fierce about drinking and water sports.”
“This is a dry lake, which means no alcohol. That damn fool who fell out of his boat could have killed someone.”
She gave him a coy look, surprising the hell out of him with the natural sensuality of it. She was so starchy, he hadn’t been at all prepared. “But you keep saying the situation wasn’t dangerous.”
“It wasn’t. Not to me.” She looked smug, and she wrote something on her paper, making him frown. He decided to explain before she got the wrong idea. “Hell, I’ve been swimming like a fish since I was still in diapers. I was in this lake before I could walk. My brothers taught me to water-ski when I was barely five years old, and I know boats inside and out. There was no risk to me at all, so there’s no way anyone in their right mind can label me a hero.”
“So you say. But everyone else seems to disagree.”
“Sweetheart, you just don’t know Buckhorn. This town is so settled and quiet, any disturbance at all is fodder for front-page news. Why, we had a cow break out of the pasture and wander into the churchyard sometime back. Stopped traffic for miles around so everyone could gawk. The fire department showed up, along with my brother, who’s the sheriff, and the Buckhorn Press sent all their star reporters to cover the story.”
“All their star reporters?”
He grinned. “Yeah. All two of them. That’s the way things are run around here. The town council meets to vote on whether or not to change the bulbs in the street lamps and last year when Mrs. Rommen’s kitty went missing, a search party was formed and we hunted for three days before finding the old rascal.”
She wrote furiously, which annoyed the hell out of Gabe, and then she looked up. “We?”
He tilted his head at her teasing smile, a really nice smile now that he was seeing it. Her lips were full and rosy and…He frowned. “Now, Ms. Parks, you wouldn’t expect me to avoid my civic duty, would you? Especially not when the old dear loves that ugly tomcat something fierce.”
She grinned at him again, putting dimples in those abundant freckles, making her wide mouth even more appealing, before going back to her writing. Gabe leaned forward to see exactly what she was putting on paper, and she snatched the paper to her chest.
“What are you doing?” She sounded breathless and downright horrified.
Gabe lifted a brow. “Just peeking at what you consider so noteworthy.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She lowered the paper, but the damage had been done. Dark smears of pencil lead were etched across the front of her damp white blouse.
Gabe nodded appreciatively at her bosom while sipping his cola. “Looks like you’ll need to be cleaned up.” He said it, then stood. “You should probably head on home to do that.”
She quickly stood, too. “But I haven’t asked you my questions yet.”
“And you won’t. I don’t want to be interviewed. But just for the hell of it, I turned the fish loose ‘cause it’s a carp, not that good for eating and a real pain to clean being as they have a mud vein. Bass is more to my tastes. Which doesn’t matter any when you’re fishing just for the fun of fishing, which is usually how I do it. You should try it sometime.” He looked her over slowly. “Cuttin’ loose, I mean. It’s real relaxing.”
He turned to walk away and she trotted to keep up with him. “Gabriel…Mr. Kasper…”
“Gabe will do, unless you’re thinking to ask more questions.” He said it without looking at her, determined to get away before he noticed anything about her besides her lips, which now that he’d noticed he couldn’t stop noticing, or how nicely that starched shirt was beginning to stick to her breasts in the humidity. He still couldn’t tell for sure, but he suspected a slight possibility that she was built rather nice beneath all the prim, stiff clothing. And that was the kind of suspicion that could distract a man something awful.
Only she wasn’t the kind of woman he wanted to be distracted by. She had an obvious agenda, while he avoided plans and merely enjoyed each day.
“Gabe, really, this isn’t a lengthy interview. There’s no reason for you to be coy.”
He had to laugh at that. Shaking his head, he stepped on the dock and looked at her. He could have sworn he saw another long red tress snap into a curl right before his eyes. Her whole head was beginning to look like corkscrews. Long, lazy, red corkscrews. It was kinda cute in a way…Hell, no. No, it was not cute.
“I’ve never been called coy in my life. I’m just plain not interested in that foolishness.” He skimmed off his sunglasses and hat, and placed them on his chair, then tossed a fat inflated black inner tube into the lake. “Now, I’m going to go cool off with a dip. You can either skim out of those clothes and join me before you expire from the heat, or you can go find some other fool to interview. But no more questions.” He started to turn away, but belatedly added, “Nice meeting you.” Then he dove in.
He was sure his splash got her, but he didn�
�t look to see. At least not at first.
She stood there for the longest time. He was strangely aware of her presence while he hoisted himself into the center of the inner tube and got comfortable. Peeking through one eye, he watched her stew in silence, then glare at him before marching off.
Finally. Let her leave.
Calling him a hero—what nonsense. His brothers were real heroes; even those kids that had kept their cool and not whined could be considered heroic little devils. But not Gabe Kasper. No, sir.
He started to relax, tipping his head into the cool water to drench his hair and lazily drifting his arms. But his neck snapped to attention when he saw Little Red stop beside Rosemary. She pointed at Gabe, then pulled out her damn notepad when Rosemary began chattering. And damn if Ceily and Darlene didn’t wander closer, taking part.
Well, hell. She was gossiping about him!
When he’d told her to interview someone else, he meant someone else who wouldn’t talk about him. Someone not on the lake. Hell, someone not even in Buckhorn—not even in Kentucky!
Rosemary’s mouth was going a mile a minute, and he could only imagine what was being said. He ground his teeth in frustration.
A couple of women in a docked boat started flirting with him, but Gabe barely noticed. He stared at Rosemary, trying to will her to clam up, but not wanting to appear too concerned about the whole thing. What was it with Red, that she’d be so damn pushy? He’d explained he wasn’t a hero, that she didn’t need him for her little survey or whatever it was she conducted. But could she let that go? Hell, no.
One of the women from the docked boat—a really nice inboard that cost more than some houses—dove in and swam over to him. Gabe sent her a distracted smile.
It was in his nature to flirt; he just couldn’t seem to help himself, and he’d never yet met a woman who minded. This particular woman didn’t. She took his smile as an invitation.
Yet anytime he’d gotten even remotely close to Red, she’d frozen up like he was a big water snake ready to take a bite. Obviously she wanted into his head, but nowhere else.
Strange woman.
She walked away from Rosemary with a friendly wave, and Gabe started to breathe a sigh of relief—until she stopped a few yards up the incline where Bear, the repairman who worked on boat engines for Rosemary, was hanging around. Gabe helped the man regularly, whenever things got too busy, but did Bear remember that now? Gabe snorted. The old whiskered cuss looked at Red warily, then glanced at Gabe, and a smile as wide as the dam spread across his wrinkled face. Just that fast, Little Red had her pencil racing across the paper again.
“Damn it.” Gabe deftly tipped the inner tube and slid over the side into the water. The sudden chill did nothing to cool his simmering temper. Keeping his gaze on the meddling female, he swam—dragging the inner tube—to the dock. But just as he reached it, so did the woman from the boat.
“Ah, now you’re not planning to leave just when I got here, are you?”
Gabe turned. He’d actually forgotten the woman, which was incredible. She stood waist deep in the shallow water and from what he could see, she was built like a Barbie doll, all long limbs and long blond hair, and so much cleavage, she fairly overflowed her skimpy bikini bra. She should have held all his attention, but instead, he’d been thoroughly distracted by an uptight, overly freckled, redheaded wonder of a woman who jumped if he even looked at her.
Gabe glanced at Red, and their gazes clashed. He’d thought to go set the little darling straight on how much prying he’d put up with, but he reconsidered.
Oh, she was in a hot temper. Her blue-eyed gaze was glued to him, and her pencil was thankfully still. It was then Gabe realized his female swimming companion had caught hold of his arm—and Red disapproved mightily. She was looking like a schoolmarm again, all rigid, her backbone straight. Well, now. That was more like it.
Gabe turned to the blonde with a huge smile. This might just turn out to be fun.
CHAPTER 2
ELIZABETH narrowed her eyes as she watched Gabriel Kasper fairly ooze masculine charm over the woman draped at his side. And the woman was draped. Elizabeth snorted in disgust. Did all women want to hang on him? Rosemary, Darlene, Ceily and this woman. They seemed to come from all around just to coo at him. No wonder he seemed so…different from the others.
The men she’d interviewed so far had been full of ego over their heroics and more than willing to share their stories with any available ear. They were rightfully proud, considering they’d behaved in a brave, out of the ordinary way that had directly benefited the people around them. Some of them had been shy, some outrageous, but not a one of them had refused her an interview. And not a one of them had so thoroughly ignored her.
No, they’d hung on her every question, anxious to share the excitement, thrilled with her interest, but in a purely self-satisfying way. They certainly hadn’t been distracted with her as a woman, eyeing her up and down the way Gabriel Kasper had. She wondered if he thought she was stupid, or just naive, considering the way he’d looked at her, like he thought she wouldn’t notice just because he wore sunglasses. Not likely! She’d felt his gaze like a tactile stroke, and it had unnerved her. The average man just didn’t look at her that way, and men like Gabe never gave her a thought.
But then Gabe had dismissed her, and that she was more than used to. Except with the heroes she’d interviewed, the men who wanted their unique stories told.
Damn, Mr. Kasper was an enigma.
“Don’t mind that none, miss. Gabe always gets more’n his share of notice from the fillies.”
Elizabeth snapped her attention to Bear. His name suited him, she thought, as she looked way, way up into his grizzled face. “I beg your pardon?”
He nodded toward the docks, where Gabe and the woman were chatting cozily. Elizabeth curled her lip. It was disgusting for a woman to put on such an absurd display, especially right out in the open like that. And for Gabe to encourage her so…Good grief, he had a responsibility to the community as a role model after all the attention they’d given him.
“Has he acted any different since becoming a town hero?” During her research, Elizabeth had discovered that people heralded for valor quickly adapted to all the fanfare and added interest thrown their way.
Bear chuckled. “Not Gabe. Truth is, folks in these parts have pretty much always looked up to him and his brothers. I don’t think anyone doubted Gabe would do something once he noticed what had happened. Any one of his brothers would have done the same.”
“He mentioned his brothers. Can you tell me something about them?”
“Be glad to!” Bear mopped a tattered bandanna around his face, then stuck it in his back pocket. “The oldest brother, Sawyer, is the town doc, and a damn good one to boot. He takes care of everyone from the newborns to the elders. Got hisself married to Honey, a real sweet little woman, about a year back. And that cut his patient load down considerable like. Seems some of the womenfolk coming to see him weren’t really sick, just ambitious.”
Bear grinned, but Elizabeth shook her head in exasperation.
“Right after Sawyer is Morgan, the sheriff, who generally looks like he just crawled right off a cactus, but he’s as nice as they come as long as you stay on his good side.” He leaned close to whisper, “And folks in these parts definitely stay on his good side.”
“Lovely.” Elizabeth tried to picture these two respectable men related to Gabe, who looked like a beach bum, but she couldn’t quite manage it.
“Morgan up and married Honey’s sister, Misty, just a bit after Sawyer married. He smiles more these days—that is, when she doesn’t have him in a temper. She does seem to enjoy riling that boy.”
It was a sure sign of Bear’s age that he’d call a man older than Gabe a boy.
“Then there’s Jordan, the best damn vet Buckhorn County has to offer. He can sing to an animal, and damned if it won’t sing back! That man can charm a bird out of a tree or lull an ornery mule asleep
. He’s still a bachelor.”
Good grief. Elizabeth could do no more than blink. Doctor, sheriff, vet. It was certainly an impressive family. “What does Gabe do for a living?”
Bear scratched beneath his chin, thinking, and then he looked away. “Thing is, Gabe’s the youngest, and he don’t yet know what it is he wants to do. Mostly he’s a handyman, sort of a jack-of-all-trades. That boy can do just about anything with his hands. He’s—”
“He doesn’t have a job?” Elizabeth didn’t mean to sound so shocked, but Rosemary had told her Gabe was twenty-seven years old, and to Elizabeth’s mind, that was plenty old enough to have figured out your life’s ambition.
“Well…”
She shook her head, cutting off whatever lame excuses Bear was prepared to make. “I got the impression from a few things Rosemary said that he worked here.”
A cold, wet hand clamped onto her shoulder, and Elizabeth jumped, then whirled to see Gabe, dripping lake water, standing right behind her. His grin wasn’t pleasant, and she wished that she hadn’t gotten engrossed in what Bear had to say, that she’d kept at least part of her attention on Gabe.
She looked around him, but his newest female companion was nowhere to be found. Which, she supposed, accounted for his presence. Surely if any other woman was available he’d still be ignoring her.
Gabe nodded to Bear, more or less dismissing him, then pulled Elizabeth around and started walking a few feet away. In a voice that only barely bordered on cordial, he said, “Well, Miss Nosy, I do work here, but I’m not employed here. There’s a definite difference. And from now on, I’d appreciate it if you kept your questions to yourself. I don’t much like people prying into my personal life, especially when I already told ’em not to.”
Elizabeth gulped. No amount of forced pleasantness could mask his irritation. She tried to inch away from his hot, controlling grasp, but he wasn’t letting go. So she simply stopped.
Gabe turned to face her. They were once again standing in the bright sun, on a gravel drive that declined down the slight hill, used to launch boats into the lake. The glare off the white gravel was blinding. She had to shield her eyes with one hand while balancing her notepad, pen and purse with the other. Looking directly at him both flustered and annoyed her. He was an incredibly…potent male, no denying that. Standing there in nothing more than wet, worn, faded cutoffs—and those hanging entirely too low on his lean hips—he was a devastatingly masculine sight. A sparse covering of light brown hair, damp from his swim, laid over solid muscles in his chest and down his abdomen, then swirled around his navel. He was deeply tanned, his legs long, his big feet bare. He seemed impervious to the sharp gravel and the hot sun. And as she watched, his arms crossed over his chest.