A Thousand Little Blessings (12 page)

Etta's heart danced a quick step. What was Uncle Carl up to? It obviously had something to do with the bank.

Carl's voice sounded like butter on a hot biscuit. “Of course, of course. But I'm willing to do what I can. Can I count on your support?”

James stood and walked Carl out of his office. “The Board will be meeting in a few weeks. We'll talk it over then.”

“That's fine, James, just fine.” Carl shook the storekeeper's hand and walked toward the exit. “I only hope nothing unfortunate happens before then.”

Etta clenched her fists.

Uncle Carl had been working with ledgers in her father's office, taken Carolina's keys, and now was talking to members of the board. Perhaps there was an innocent explanation for his actions, but what was it?

“Here you are,” Cassandra Moore said from behind her. “My goodness, Henrietta, are you all right? Your face is as red as a chili pepper.”

Etta struggled to keep her voice calm. “Please sign the card for me, Mrs. Moore. I need to get back to the bank.” She forced herself to walk slowly through the store, but once outside, she took a deep breath and concentrated her thoughts on what she should do next. She couldn't go back to her desk while her mind reeled with this latest development. She needed time to think.

She turned right and strode past the row of shops. What would the auditor find? How long would it take? She couldn't close the bank, too many people depended on it, but someone was siphoning off the funds. Was it her uncle? She had no real evidence. Except for the missing cash, the other problems could be accounting mistakes.

She crossed the street at the corner and headed back toward the bank. Her heels tapped loudly against the boardwalk, matching the pounding of her heart. Why did she have to be the one to sort out this mess? Handling these kinds of problems was her father's responsibility.

Her skirt swished around her ankles as her steps came to a sudden halt in front of Adler's Hardware Store. Shame darkened her heart. How could she be so selfish when her father was fighting for his life? She covered her face with her palms and moaned softly.

A warm hand touched her shoulder. “Etta? Are you all right?”

She lowered her hands and lifted her gaze to Gabriel's concerned face. Relief weakened her knees, and she reached out to him. How she wanted to wrap her arms around him and rest her head on his chest. Gabriel would know what to do.

Instead, she folded her arms across her abdomen and swallowed hard. “What are you doing here?”

He nodded toward the hardware store. “I came into town with my dad. Is something wrong?”

Etta stepped away, forcing his hand to drop. “I was at Moore's Department Store and…” She glanced at the other people nearby. What if someone overheard her?

“And what, Etta?”

She shook her head and cast her gaze to the ground. “I can't talk about it now.”

Gabriel's father stepped out of the hardware store. “Morning, Etta. How are you today?”

Etta tried to smile. “Fine, thank you. And you?”

Ethan slapped Gabriel on the back. “Much better now that my boy is home. We need to get going, son. Sorry to run, Miss Davis, but we've got a delivery to make.”

A strong breeze blew a lock of Etta's hair across her face, and she tucked it behind her ear. If she'd remembered her hat, she wouldn't have this problem. “That's quite all right, Mr. Benson.”

Ethan Benson walked down the narrow alley at the side of the store, and Gabriel touched her elbow. “Would you like to talk later? I can meet you at the stable.”

Her heartbeat eased as her spirit lifted. “Yes. After work.”

Gabriel gently squeezed her arm, sending encouragement and support in the simple gesture. “I'll be there.”

Etta watched him trail after his father. In the midst of grief and worry, she'd found a new friend. A genuine smile crossed her lips for the first time that day, and she headed toward the bank with renewed determination. She'd solve the problem of the missing funds, even if it meant her uncle was a thief.

 

****

 

The truck's front right wheel dropped into a hole, bouncing Gabriel's head into the roof.

“Sorry,” his father said with a chuckle. “These roads were built for horse and wagon. Who knows when they'll get around to improving them?”

Gabriel rubbed the sore spot on his head. The Army doctor in France had commented on how lucky Gabriel had been to have a thick skull, but Gabriel never imagined his father's driving could endanger him.

“I heard you go out last night,” his father said. “Around two o'clock. Everything all right with you?”

“Just having trouble sleeping. I went for a walk.”

“Uh-huh. Have you thought about what you're going to do with your life, now that you're finished with the Army?”

“I have three more months of Army pay. Thought I'd use that time to think about it.”

“There's lots of opportunities for civil engineers. Think you'll use that degree of yours?”

“Probably. Maybe I'll ride over to A&M and talk to my old professors about it.”

“I bet you're not the only soldier who'll be looking for a job.”

But so many would never return. Suddenly Gabriel didn't want to talk about his future. “If you can manage to drive around the holes, I'm going to close my eyes and catch a nap.”

His father grinned and nodded.

Gabriel slid down and rested his head against the back of the seat. He still didn't feel as though he was truly home, despite the fact he slept in his childhood bedroom and ate his mother's cooking every day. But maybe it was time he thought about what he'd do with the rest of his life.

He didn't deserve to be alive when better men than he had perished, but for reasons he couldn't understand, he'd survived. The hospital chaplain had said that God had plans for Gabriel. But what were they? To return to Burnet in order to help Etta with her father's horses? Not likely. But so far, that summed up his contributions.

The thought of Etta brought a smile to his lips and a new worry to his mind. Something had upset her. She'd always projected calm assurance, but today she'd been troubled. Perhaps it was his turn to offer comfort, though he couldn't imagine what his prickly personality could do for her.

 

 

 

 

6

 

Etta threw her hat and satchel on her bed and hurried to the stable. All afternoon she'd looked forward to seeing Gabriel to tell him about her latest discoveries. He'd probably advise her to stand up to her uncle, but how did one do that? If she confronted Carl, he'd deny her suspicions or explain them away. But if Carl was behind the bank's missing funds, she had to find a way to stop him.

An orange striped kitten dashed past her as she stepped into the shaded stable.

Etta paused to watch the small animal pounce on a butterfly then smiled as the insect rose above the wildflowers and fluttered away.

A horse neighed from inside the stable, calling her attention back to the reason she'd come.

Gabriel was inside, carrying a bucket of food from the feed room toward a stall. “There you are,” he said. “I've been waiting for you.”

Etta's heart smiled at his warm greeting. He was becoming an important person to her—a good friend and confidante. “I got held up just as I was leaving work.” Etta stroked Mira's neck and the horse nickered in reply. “The auditor came today.”

Gabriel emptied the pail of feed into Mira's trough. “What's he like?”

Pushy
, Etta thought.

George Owens had detained her after the bank closed, trying to persuade her to join him for dinner.

“He's all right, I suppose. He's worked for us before, and he knows how we do business, so I expect he'll find the problem.”

Gabriel set the empty bucket on the floor and looked at her closely. “I think you're not telling me everything.”

Etta's cheeks warmed. How could she explain George Owens's actions to Gabriel? “What do you mean?”

“When I saw you this morning you were obviously upset. What happened?”

Etta blew out a breath. “Oh, that.” She walked to the stable door and looked out. Benito had Vega on a lead rope and was walking toward Gemma. “Someone took five hundred dollars from the tellers' cash drawers. Unlike the loan accounts, cash is hard to track. But that's not the worst part.”

Gabriel moved behind her. “Tell me.”

Etta turned to face him. “I was in Moore's Department Store this morning just before I ran into you, and I overheard Uncle Carl talking to James Moore. I think he's up to something, but I'm not sure what.”

Gabriel's dark eyebrows drew together. “What did he say?”

“Nothing I can put my finger on. Uncle Carl asked for Mr. Moore's support, but I didn't hear more. But I know it's about the bank because Mr. Moore wouldn't commit to anything without talking to the other members of the board.”

Gabriel rested his hand on Etta's shoulder. “You're in a tough spot, all right. What are you going to do?”

Etta tilted her head toward Gabriel's hand. How she wanted to lay her head there, to let his reassuring touch seep into her soul. She wanted to soak up his strength, to rest in the protective circle of his arms until she was certain of her ability to fight.

Over Gabriel's shoulder, a gray cat leaped atop a stack of galvanized steel stock tanks. One second later, the pile tilted ominously. Etta pointed toward the impending accident. “Watch out—”

She was interrupted by a high-pitched screech and a thunderous metallic crash. She caught a glimpse of the cat jumping to the windowsill just before she was thrown to the dusty stable floor. She struggled to catch her breath while pinned beneath a heavy masculine weight.

Gabriel's breath came in quick pants, and his heart pounded against her chest. His calloused hand covered her mouth. “Quiet,” he whispered.

Above her, Gabriel's wild eyes searched the barn, and his nostrils flared with each shallow breath. His muscles were taut, his body primed to fight. Didn't he realize the crash had been caused by a harmless cat? Should she wait for him to calm down or try to reason with him? She touched the hand that covered her mouth.

He removed his hand, but continued to scan the area. He was like a wild animal alerted to a nearby predator. But there was nothing in the stable that could harm them.

Etta gingerly laid her palm against his chest. “Gabriel,” she whispered, “it was just the cat.”

He looked down at her and blinked, as though trying to focus. The fierce gleam in his eyes gradually faded.

“It's all right, Gabriel. A cat knocked over the stock tanks.”

He blinked, swallowed, and then glanced at the fallen tanks. He used his fingertips to move wisps of hair away from her face. “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine. Are you all right?”

He rested his forehead on hers and let out a long breath. “The noise. I thought…” His warm breath against her cheek caused her heart to stumble. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. Of course not.” He smelled of leather and spring breezes. If she were pinned beneath another man, she'd be panicked by now. But every part of her body knew she was safe with Gabriel.

The clip-clop of horses' hooves sounded nearby. Gabriel tensed at the noise just as Benito lead in the two mares. Gabriel scrambled to his feet, pushed past Benito, and strode through the doorway.

Etta stood and brushed off her skirt.

Benito walked toward her. “Are you all right, Miss Etta?”

“I'm fine.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” She had to catch Gabriel, to assure him that he hadn't hurt her. Etta hurried toward the doorway. “Stop by the house before you leave,” she said over her shoulder. “I have your pay.”

Etta rushed to the footbridge that connected her family's property to the Bensons' farm. She needed to catch Gabriel, to tell him she'd never been afraid. Even when he'd pushed her to the floor, she hadn't questioned his actions. But Gabriel must have been embarrassed. Why else would he have left so quickly? At the creek, she caught sight of his chambray shirt just before he disappeared behind a hill.

Etta shoulders dropped and heaviness settled around her heart. Why had Gabriel been so frightened? He'd always been so strong. So solid and steadfast. But today he'd been startled and terrified. All because of a sudden noise?

She turned and headed toward her house. She didn't know how, but she'd find a way to reassure Gabriel the same way he'd reassured her.

 

****

 

Gabriel grumbled under his breath as he trudged up the low hill. “Of all the idiotic, lamebrain things…a cat, a harmless cat…I could have hurt Etta…” His hands fisted at his sides and a sharp pain rammed its way through his tight neck muscles. How much longer would the St. Etienne battlefield haunt him?

As he neared his parents' house, the fragrant aroma of his mother's cooking reached him. It would be so easy to go inside, give his mother a squeeze, and let her take care of him. If only he could push his memories aside and bury them where dreams and curious cats couldn't disturb them.

He stopped outside the kitchen door and listened to the clanging of pots and pans. His mother was humming, her lilting voice inviting him into the comfort of home. But Nichols's mother would never make dinner for him again. Neither would Blake's mother, nor Tillman's wife. Spencer had two sons who would grow up without a father. Gabriel's mistake had brought grief and pain to so many. Why should he accept comfort when so many would never experience it again?

He turned his back and walked into the darkness.

 

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