Gabriel's Atonement (21 page)

His gaze roamed the various campsites as he searched for her. Finding anyone in this menagerie was nigh on impossible, but he was determined. He wove in and out of the campsites for nearly an hour, and then his heart thudded. A woman with golden hair bent over and kissed a small boy with lighter hair. When she straightened, he knew he'd succeeded in his mission. As if she sensed him, she turned his direction, and when she spotted him, she waved. A gentle smile lifted her pink lips.

He dismounted and strode forward, his heart pounding as if he'd run a long race. He couldn't remember the last time he'd ever been so excited to visit a woman—if he ever had.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Coulter.” Lara walked toward him, holding the boy's hand.

“It's Gabe, remember?” He sent her a smile that matched the giddiness he felt on the inside. His gaze lowered to her son. “And who is this handsome young man?”

“This is my son.”

“I'm Michael.” The boy eyed Gabe seriously.

Wanting to make friends with the child, he squatted and held out his hand. “Mighty happy to meet you, Michael.”

After staring at Gabe's hand and taking a quick peek up at his mother, the boy laid his small hand inside Gabe's. His closed around it, and he gave it a gentle shake, as an overwhelming desire to protect the youngster and his mother washed over him like a flash flood. He stood, a bit stunned at the sensation.

“Are you all right?” Lara took a step closer, lifted one hand but then dropped it to her side.

Gabe smiled, hoping to set her at ease. “Most certainly, I am. How could I not be in your lovely presence?”

A bright red tinged her cheeks, and she brushed her hand across the stained apron covering her worn dress. He'd encountered few people whose clothing was so shabby. Too bad he hadn't thought to give her some fabric with his last gift to her.

“So, did you find your horse?”

“I did. I feared I'd lost her at first, but the soldiers had captured the thief as he tried to cross the river.”

“I'm glad you got her back.”

“Thanks.” He felt a tug on his pants and looked down. A pair of blue-green eyes stared up at him.

“Can I sit on your horse?”

“Michael. It's not polite to ask that of people you don't know.”

“But you know 'im, don'tcha?”

Gabe's gaze locked on Lara's, and he lifted a brow, sending her a cocky smirk that dared her to deny her son's comment.

“Well, yes, but you don't.”

“I don't mind. And you don't have to be concerned. Tempest is a well-trained horse, and I'll keep hold of the reins. So, can he?”

She lifted a skeptical brow. Her lips twitched as if she tried to keep from smiling. “He didn't seem well trained that day at the depot.”

“He'd just come off a long train ride, which he didn't particularly like, and he got spooked. Normally, he's a calm horse.”

Michael's hopeful gaze swiveled to his mother.

“I suppose it won't hurt to let him sit on the horse. He does love them.”

She turned for her son, but Gabe latched onto him first and hoisted the featherlight youngster into the saddle. The urchin was as thin as some on the streets of Kansas City that he had frequently helped. If only there was some way he could help Lara more.

His heart ached as he surveyed her camp. The rickety buckboard wasn't likely to hold together if she used it for the race, but then why would she when she had her husband's horse? A frayed tent sagged against one side of the wagon. He glanced back at the boy, smiling wide as he bounced in the saddle. What would she do with him while she rode in the land run?

“Was there a reason you needed to see me, Mr.—”

“Who?” He captured her gaze and sent a knowing stare that made her squirm. Why was she uncomfortable voicing his name?

“Oh, all right—Gabe.” She waggled her brows as if asking if he was happy. “Why did you want to see me?”

He scrambled for a legitimate reason to be in her company and yanked the
Homesteader's Handbook
from his back pocket, holding it out to her.
Because I missed you? Missed looking on your lovely face and seeing that brave set to your shoulders?
“I…uh… I wondered if you'd seen this.”

She took it and shook her head. “No, I haven't. What is it?”

“A guide to homesteading, among other things.”

“Oh?” Her interest was obvious. “What does it say?”

“Shall we have a seat, and I'll show you?”

She cast an apprehensive glance around her campsite then to his trousers. “I'm afraid there is little to sit on but the ground.”

“I've never been afraid of a little dirt. I wouldn't be in the horse business if I were.”

“If you're certain.”

“I am.” He turned back to Tempest. “Time to get off, son.”

“Aw…do I hav'ta?”

“Michael, Mr. Coulter has been nice to allow you to sit on his horse. Please get down now, and don't whine.”

Gabe passionately felt the child's disappointment. It was a familiar feeling when he'd been growing up. “Don't worry, Michael. Next time I see you, you can sit on Tempest again.”

The boy's eyes brightened as he reached for Gabe. “Promise?”

“Yep.” Gabe reached into his pocket and pulled out a slightly cracked peppermint stick. He'd been fond of them ever since he'd eaten his first one the day his ma was buried. Mr. Oldham, owner of the general store had given it to him—the only high point in a very low day.

“Oh boy! Can I have it, Ma?”

Gabe hadn't even considered asking her first. He'd been handing them out to the street children for so long that he didn't give it a second thought. He glanced at her, and she nodded.

Michael took his treat and scooted under the wagon, where he twisted off the paper wrapper and stuck the candy in his mouth.

“That was nice of you.”

He shrugged. “I like to make children happy.”

She glanced at him, as if she'd made an interesting discovery. “And why is that?”

“Maybe because my own childhood wasn't that grand,” he blurted out before he stopped to think how revealing his statement was.

“I'm sorry. I wish all children could live happily, but we both know that doesn't always happen.”

“Not half as often as it should,” he mumbled.

L
ara tried not to stare at Gabe. Her heart ached to learn his childhood hadn't been a good one, but he'd turned out to be a kind, honorable man. That was something he could be proud of.

He opened the
Homesteader's Handbook
, evidently ready to put aside talk of his past. She watched as he quickly thumbed through the pages and told her what they meant. When he turned to the pages of land plots, her eyes widened. “You mean the whole area has been divided into sections and numbered? All of them?”

He nodded. “Pretty amazing, isn't it?”

She couldn't fathom the time and effort it must have taken to map out two million acres.

“I'm hoping to get land somewhere near the Guthrie Station. I've heard tell it will be the capital when Oklahoma becomes a state.”

Hadn't Grandpa said the same thing? “Do you think it will? What about the Indian Territory? Seems like there'd be a lot of folks who wouldn't want it to be part of the country.”

“I don't think the objectors have a choice. Oklahoma and Indian Territory are smack-dab in the middle of the United States. How could it not eventually gain statehood?”

He scooted over to show her something in tiny writing, and her heart thudded as his shoulder pressed against hers. He was a bigger man than Tom, probably well over six feet tall, and his shoulders were wide enough to bear all of her troubles, not that she would let them. She slid a bit to her left, and he followed as he continued babbling on about the land run.

A part of her wished she'd never heard of Harrison's Hoss Race. That she were still back on their one-acre piece of land, living in the sagging soddy.

He nudged her shoulder. “Hey there, what's wrong? You've gone quiet on me.”

She turned, looking into eyes so dark they could belong to an Indian or Mexican, but the color of his lightly sun-touched skin held no hint of either culture. “I guess I was thinking.”

“About the land run?”

She nodded. “I don't like the uncertainty of it. So many of these good people will be disappointed. There can't possibly be enough land for all of them.”

“Probably not.”

“I don't know what will happen to us if we don't get a claim.”

He stared at her, as if he wanted to say something, but then looked at the booklet again. “We'll just have to make sure you do.”

She warmed at the way he said
we'll
, as if they were together in this quest. She couldn't let her hopes rise that something could grow between them. After all, she was a new widow and shouldn't even be talking to a man she barely knew, much less allowing him into her dreams. And he
had
ridden into them, bold as can be, much to her angst.

“These lots here, sections sixteen and thirty-four of each township, have been reserved for schools that will be built later, so we need to know where they are and make sure we don't claim one of those sections.”

“But how? Will they be labeled or have a flag or something to indicate they're school lands?”

He gazed at her and blinked his long lashes. “This book shows where they are.”

“Looking at a map is not the same as open country.” She sighed and glanced at Michael, who'd fallen asleep, the partially eaten candy still in his hand.

“Stay close to me when the race starts, and I'll see that you get land.”

He didn't know she wouldn't be the one to ride, but then she'd never told him about her family. For some reason, she wasn't ready to share that information with him. Maybe if he knew about them, he'd no longer want to help her—not that she wanted his help—but she enjoyed his company. No man had made her feel cared for other than Grandpa in a long time, and she rather enjoyed that element of their relationship. She frowned. Was she taking advantage of him to want even that much, when she was supposedly a widow in mourning?

“Would you like me to leave this here so you can read over it tonight? I could come by and pick it up on the morrow.”

“That would be nice. I'd like to read through it so I'll know all of the rules.” Grandpa would like to see it, too. How come he hadn't known about the handbook?

Gabe rose and held out his hand to her. “I have an appointment to talk with a man about buying one of my horses, so I need to go.”

She allowed him to help her up, enjoying the feel of his strong warm palm next to hers. He was always the gentleman, unlike Tom. She stood a few feet from Gabe and realized she didn't want him to leave, but he needed to. Grandpa would be back soon, and who knew when Jo would…

He rolled up the handbook and held it out to her. “See you tomorrow?”

She smiled and nodded, knowing she'd be counting the hours.

He mounted his fine horse, tipped his hat, and winked at her. A blush warmed her cheeks, and she waved, enamored like a schoolgirl. She watched him ride away, peeked at Michael, then turned to start supper. Another man strode into her camp—a scowling man she'd never seen before.

“Can I help you?”

He strode a few feet from her and stopped, his gaze shifting from hers to behind her where Gabe had been.

“Let me give you fair warning about that gambler.”

“What?” She didn't know any gamblers, other than Tom. But how could this man possibly associate her with him? “Who are you talking about?”

“Gabe Coulter. You'd best stay away from the charming snake.”

Lara lifted her hand to her throat. “What did he do to you?”

“Not me, my brother. He stole his hard-earned money when my brother gambled at his table. The loss cost my brother his family—and me, my brother. He's not a man who can be trusted.”

Just that fast, the stranger stormed off.

Lara swallowed the egg-sized lump in her throat. Gabe was a gambler? A man who lured unsuspecting cowboys, like Tom, to his table in hopes of stealing their wages?

Could the stranger be mistaken? Who was he? And why should she believe him? She shook her head. His enmity was too real. He must be speaking the truth. Lara fell back against the side of the wagon and stared at the book in her hand—Gabe's book. She remembered the day she first bumped into him as he exited the hotel, dressed in his dark suit, his skin fairer than it was today. She'd thought him a suave businessman, but maybe she was wrong.

How could she have fallen for another untrustworthy man?

Half an hour after Gabe left, Grandpa rode Sunny into camp. He dismounted, tended to the horse, then hurried toward her, smiling. “I got some news.”