He’d guessed she would ask for an explanation, but still felt unnerved at telling her. It felt absurdly revealing. He picked up the largest one, the handle warm and weathered in his hand. Could he explain how using these every day grounded him, reminded him of everything he’d overcome to get where he was today? It startled him how much he needed to touch these right now, feeling pressured and unsettled as he had since this whole business with Cyrus had hijacked his life.
Gabe started with the most important fact. “I made these. During my time at the ranch, there was a foreman there, Willy, who made the most amazing things in his wood shop. I wasn’t an ideal resident at first, angry as I was for Mom leaving me on the ranch.” He stole a glance at Avery before continuing. “I get why she did it now, but I sure didn’t then. I felt thrown out, and I made sure the whole world knew it.”
“That must have been so hard at your age. How could any eight-year-old understand something so complicated?” She ran a hand over the handle of the smallest box, and again the sight of her touching his things sent Gabe’s innards tumbling.
“One day Willy took a bunch of leftover wood—discards from larger projects—and began putting them together to make a box like this. I watched him, fascinated that he could turn scraps into something useful.” Gabe set down the box and picked up the smallest one, the one Avery had just touched. It was rougher than the other two, with mismatched joints and gaps in the bottom. “So Willy taught me to make one. I made a hundred mistakes and had to do things over two and three times, but he stayed at it with me.” He put down the small one and picked up the middle one. “And then I made a second one, better and larger than the first. And then a third. All from pieces of wood other projects couldn’t use.”
Avery’s eyes glowed with understanding. There were probably only half a dozen people in the world who knew the story of these boxes, and Gabe discovered he liked Avery being one of them. “What a wise man,” she said quietly.
“Willy taught me a powerful lesson without ever saying a word. I was so busy being angry at everything I didn’t have. Willy taught me to take what I did have and build it into what I needed.” Gabe sighed. “Sure, lots of parts of the boys ranch turned me around, but none of them more than Willy and these boxes.”
“Where is Willy now?”
“Oh, he passed on some years back. And I confess I didn’t see much of him once I came back here after my stay on the ranch. Harley stepped in where Willy left off. My stepfather wasn’t much of an influence, but Harley took a shine to me right away. He was a hand here on the ranch, and if there ever was a man who was a father to me, it’s Harley.”
“He’s sweet. Don’t you worry about him out there on that far corner of the ranch all by himself?”
“I do, but he won’t come in. I mean, I bring him in for meals now and then and to league meetings when he feels up to them, but Harley keeps to himself. I go to him, but he doesn’t come to me. Been that way his whole life, so I doubt it’ll ever change. It worked for me, too—escaping to Harley’s cabin is probably the reason I survived all the years on this ranch.” He settled the trio of boxes back in order on the shelf. “Those weren’t happy times. But I took what I had and made it into what I needed, thanks to Willy and Harley.”
He reached to snap off the mudroom light, but Avery’s hand met his as it found the switch. Again, the contact seemed to course through him like a current. “Thank you,” she said. “It means a lot to me that you showed me these.”
Gabe swallowed hard, knowing the spot where her palm lay on the back of his hand would still be tingling hours from now. “You asked,” he mumbled as he walked out of the darkened room and into the bright hallway. It wasn’t wise to linger for a single moment with her in the rose-gold sunset now filling the back of the house.
The whole house, big as it was, couldn’t seem to put enough space between him and Avery. The woman had a talent for asking the most unnerving questions. He’d never been so happy to hear Jethro beep the horn and catch the sound of the twins clattering through the front door.
Chapter Ten
Avery stood with Bea and Macy Swanson in the living room of the boys ranch the next day, taking in the mix of decors. Bea had invited her at yesterday’s league meeting, and Macy had come along because she was looking for help with her own house. Bea was right—the short notice and mishmash of existing and donated furniture gave the place a jumbled, disjointed look Avery knew she could improve with a few key touches.
When she told them so, Macy’s eyes grew wide. “That’s just it—my house doesn’t feel like it fits together, either.”
“Well, there’s so much emotion in it, in your case,” Bea said tenderly, touching Macy’s arm.
“I’m transforming this house from my late brother and his wife—Colby’s parents—but I want it to reflect our new life, too. And then I want to do the same thing with our life with Tanner, when we get married and move to his ranch. How can I mix all those different lives and spaces?” Macy had guardianship of her orphaned nephew, Colby, and was engaged to Tanner Barstow.
Avery smiled. This was her favorite kind of decorating challenge. “Well, I won’t say it’s not a complex task, in both your cases. And I’ll come over to your place later, Macy, if you like, but I expect you can adopt what I’m going to suggest here without much trouble.” She looked around the big room, her heart again twisting for a moment at what her childhood might have been like running these halls and being settled in large, sun-filled rooms like these instead of the cramped and make-do rooms where she had grown up.
Bea picked up on her hesitation. “I’m so delighted to have your help, Avery. I like the idea that the place will have a touch of you in it.”
Avery swallowed hard. “The wall’s a nice neutral, so colors and art are the perfect place to start.” As Avery walked through the room, she pulled out the deck of paint color samples nearly every decorator used as a way to form palettes.
Fanning through it, she quickly located shades that matched one of the large landscape paintings over the fireplace and the couch upholstery. With a moment’s thought, Avery added a third color that blended the first two into a pleasing trio of hues. She held the samples up to Macy and Bea. “If you added pillows in this accent color, the couch would blend in more easily. And you could find fabric for curtains that would have all three colors. That would alter the feel of the room with only two additions.”
“Wow. You are good at this,” Macy admired. She turned to Bea. “Isn’t that armchair someone just donated the same color? We could put that in here, too.”
“The one sitting in the back hallway? You’re right—that would work to do the same thing. You’re a natural, Macy.”
“This place is so much bigger, but we can’t afford to buy a whole lot of things,” Bea said as she scanned the room with a critical eye.
“But you can make the place feel visually pulled together, and that can do a lot for the boys’ sense of calm, even if they don’t realize it.” She turned to Macy. “If Colby sees visual cues that his parents are still part of his life in your house, it’ll help to ground him. Even when you move to Tanner’s.” After a pause, she added, “He’ll feel like all the parts of him belong, and it will mean a lot to him later, if it doesn’t already now.”
Macy offered Avery a gentle look. “You lost both your parents, didn’t you?”
“I lost my mom when I was about Colby’s age. It sent my life into knots, and I think I gave my dad even more trouble than Colby gave you.” Macy had told Avery that Colby had stayed on the boys ranch for a few months as he worked through his grief over losing his parents in an automobile accident.
Bea picked up one of the photographs of “graduates” they had hoped to hang on one wall—a family tree of past ranch residents, as it were. “It’s so hard and sad. What turned you around?”
Avery sat dow
n on the couch. “I didn’t turn around, to tell the truth. I stumbled my way through a series of foster homes, making trouble in every one. I figured it was better to reject them first, before they could reject me. Only trouble was, that never gave them an opportunity to love me, either.” She looked at Macy and the obvious care in her eyes. Colby’s story was sad, but it had a happy ending.
Avery had photos on her wall at home—heartwarming pictures of Danny and her and the girls—that now were only images. And memories, she hoped. “I can’t decide if it’s a blessing or a curse if the girls might not remember much of Danny. But Colby? He should keep every memory of his parents that he can. And the boys here should see the long line of history and success that went before them. Here’s what I had in mind.” She gestured to the long wall opposite the fireplace. “If you gathered a collection of picture frames—lots of different kinds and sizes—and paint them all this shade of maroon.” She held up one of the paint shades she’d suggested a few minutes ago. “Then, fill them with photos—black-and-white ones would be really stunning—of boys who’ve lived here. You could even have past residents send photos to you as part of the anniversary celebration.”
Bea clasped her hands together at the idea. “That way folks who can’t come in for the event can still be part of the celebration.”
“You’d need a lot of frames, but if you got the boys to help you paint them it wouldn’t be much work at all.”
Bea narrowed one eye. “I could make that happen. The boys have a school holiday on Monday. Can you come by and show them what to do?”
Work with the boys? Was she ready to do that?
“Colby and I could come help if you’d like,” Macy offered.
Now how could she say no? “You know,” she said to Macy, “the same idea would work for photos of you and Tanner, of the three of you, of Colby, of his parents and any other family photos you have.”
“It would show Colby all the different ways he has had and will have a family.”
“And show our boys the bright futures they could have ahead of them despite how rough they may feel things are now. Oh, Avery, it’s a brilliant idea—you’ll do it?”
“You can always add more pictures or rotate pictures in and out. Include old photos and new ones—if they’re all black-and-white, they’ll look timeless. So yes, I’ll do it.” This was Avery’s favorite part of the job. Her gift was to bring not just beauty and functionality to homes, but meaning. Anyone could make something pretty. Avery had always had a knack for making things that touched the deepest part of her clients. It felt so satisfying—reconciling, even—to do that here. Smoothing over, in one small way, the bittersweet journey of her path to this place.
Avery pointed to the fern-colored couch. “We can mix in a few botanical prints in this shade and some of those tin stars I saw in the hallway, too.”
“Lana found those at a flea market,” Bea said, standing beside Avery. “I’m sure we could get more.” She gave Avery a warm hug. “You’re a real star yourself, you know that?”
The praise glowed in Avery’s heart. “If you ever give tours to donors, the wall could make a powerful statement.”
Macy leaned against the blank wall. “I’m sorry you had it so rough growing up. Without folks and all. And then to learn Cyrus had been here all along? I can’t imagine.”
“It’s no fairy tale, I’ll grant you that.” She sighed. “I won’t say I wouldn’t bend my grandfather’s ear with a few choice words if I had the chance.”
“Oh, I almost forgot!” Macy dashed for a bag that sat at the foot of a coffee table. “I was going through a box of books donated to the ranch learning center, and somebody seems to have forgotten that only boys live here.” She produced a small stack of picture books. “Princesses, fairies, flowers, crafts and a few horse books that the boys would find too frilly. I thought they’d be perfect for the girls to have.” She grinned. “Gabriel’s library is beautiful, but I doubt there’s much to entice Debbie and Dinah in there.”
Avery took the gift with gratitude. “And a good thing they’re not enticed to go in there. They’ve invaded enough of Gabe’s house as it is.”
Bea leaned in. “Marlene spilled to Marnie about the tea party.” A soft laugh lit up the woman’s eyes. “I’d have given just about anything to see that.”
“Gabe? Our Gabe? At a tea party?” Macy laughed as well when Avery told her about what the girls had done. “I cannot imagine!”
“He was a good sport—well, sort of. I don’t think the girls really gave him much choice.”
“Those must be some girls you’ve got there,” Bea said. “Not many people can claim they made Gabriel Everett do something he didn’t want to do. Maybe the mystery matchmakers can build on that.”
Avery scowled. “Marlene, Rhetta and Carolina have all told me about those stunts someone’s been pulling to nudge couples together.” She held up her hands in warning. “I’m in no market to be nudged. Not to Gabe or anyone else.”
“Not even a little bit?” Macy teased. “After all this craziness has died down?”
When he told the story of those toolboxes, Avery was sure she’d seen a side of Gabe that he rarely showed anyone. Like the pictures she’d just described, it was part of his home that touched his heart. A treasure that she lacked. She wasn’t succeeding at shielding her heart from such a powerful thing. Avery shook her head, hoping that would dissuade the women from their current train of thought.
“He’s a good man,” Macy persisted. “A fine leader, from what I’ve seen. Seems a shame a man like that should stay alone.”
Macy was in love and engaged to be married. Her starry eyes saw the whole world through romance-colored glasses. It wasn’t Macy’s fault that Danny had knocked that hope right out of Avery, and it wasn’t coming back any time soon. Gabe was a fine man. But he wasn’t big on emotion and kept most people at a carefully controlled distance. He’d even described himself—deliberately, if she had to guess—as “not a family kind of man.” If there was one thing she needed from the next man in her life, it was a family kind of man. “I admit, he’ll make a fine catch,” Avery said, “but some other day and for some other woman.”
* * *
Gabe was glad to see Nick McGarrett’s truck come up his path. Avery had come back from her “decorating session” at the boys ranch with a stack of new books, and her girls were working their way through the pile in a warm patch of sunshine on the porch. Nick had come to borrow some tools—the perfect excuse for Gabe to hide out in the barn with someone his own size and gender.
Nick got out of the truck, eyeing the festivities on the porch with a welcome disdain. “You weren’t kidding, Gabe. You’re surrounded.”
“They’re not so bad,” Gabe said, feeling compelled to defend them, even though he couldn’t put much enthusiasm into his voice. “Well, most days.”
Nick shook his head. “You with little girls. I’d have never seen that one coming.”
Gabe adjusted his hat and nodded toward the barn. “I didn’t see it coming, believe me. I just figured something had to be done to keep Avery in town and Roz sure wasn’t helping. I thought I had enough space here that they wouldn’t get in my way.”
Nick laughed. “And you thought wrong?”
Gabe remembered the stuffed animal parade that clamored down his hallway yesterday. “Boy, did I think wrong. How big a hole in your fence do you have to fix?” He elected to change the subject as he gathered the tools Nick had requested. That was one of the best things about Haven—folks helped each other out. Gabe liked that Nick never hesitated to ask for a tool or a hand when he needed one. As such, Gabe knew he could always count on a fellow rancher like Nick whenever he himself got in a pinch.
“Far bigger than I’d like. I feel like I just got done fixing the last hole.” Sure, Nick was struggling to put his family ranch b
ack on its feet and Gabe’s ranch was prospering with funds to spare, but that never came into it. A man could keep his pride and still ask for help in Haven because nobody looked at each other in terms of bank balances.
Nobody, that is, except the imposter Avery. Even Fletcher Snowden Phillips, who once could have rivaled the fake Avery for seeing the world with status-colored glasses, had stopped looking down his nose at everyone. Fletcher had softened since meeting his birth daughter, Darcy—the woman Nick would soon call his wife. It made Gabe wonder how Cyrus might have changed if he had had the chance to meet Avery.
Avery. He was going to have to fix this annoying tendency to keep seeing things in terms of Avery Culpepper.
“I got some extra wire from a job earlier this year. Could you use it?” Gabe asked as he kept filling the crate Nick had pulled from the back of his truck.
“Sure. And if you’ve got any smaller shovels, I’ll borrow them if you don’t mind. Corey wants to help me with the fences, and I don’t think he can handle any of my bigger ones.” Nick and Darcy and Corey had the makings of a nice little family going.
Again the thought sent his mind to the little family currently reading on his front porch. That’s not the same, he reminded himself. You’ve never wanted that sort of thing.
“Darcy taking to ranch life?” Darcy had come from money and was used to life’s finer things. She was pretty much everything the first Avery wasn’t: big hearted, brave and not afraid to get her hands dirty.
“Makes me proud. I’m a blessed man.” Nick beamed. “I gotta say, this fiancé gig has a lot going for it. Hey, the way folks are hitching up in Haven lately, even you could be next.”
“Not likely.” Gabe kept his eyes on the tools.
“Mr. Boots!” Dinah’s voice came from the barn door. “Do you have any flower seeds?”
The Rancher's Texas Twins Page 10