Someone To Watch Over Me (Harlequin Super Romance) (13 page)

“That’s one of our Basque festivals,” Louis quickly interjected. “I won’t bore you with details, but it includes bands and floats. The day ends with a potluck plus a surprise stage play a group works on secretly all year, and ripe cider. Old custom, but cool.”

“You’ll see next January,” Angel put in.

Rick stopped with a bottle of water halfway to his lips. “Why will he?”

“Because he’s our neighbor,” Louis explained patiently.

“He’s not Basque. Five bucks says he doesn’t last a year.”

Gabe eyed Rick narrowly. “There’s nothing wrong with my hearing, Navarro. Perhaps you should be placing that wager with me.”

“Rick, what’s gotten into you?” Standing, Joe clapped his older sibling on the shoulder. “You’ve carried a chip around all day. Come on, warm-up’s over. Let’s go take the edge off in a game.”

Angel, too, inserted his stocky body between Rick and Gabe.

When Rick had turned and loped back to the muddy clay court, Angel detained Gabe. “Rick’s got a heart of gold. He’s just worried about his orchards. His oldest kid starts college next year, and he has two coming along right after. He’s counting heavily on that crop.”

Gabe doubted Rick’s posturing had to do with crops or tuition. He’d bet it had to do with the interest he’d shown in Isabella. But then…if he had a sister who’d been badly hurt by a man, he’d probably throw up a
protective shield if some stranger came sniffing around her, too. Except that Isabella’s husband hadn’t stumbled in off the street. Arana was Basque—one of them.

Gabe would much rather have gone back to thinking about Isabella than get wiped in the mud by her brothers. And
pelota
turned out to be a major cardiovascular workout. Midway through the game, his lungs screamed for mercy.

“I’m getting too old for this type of punishment,” he muttered, not intending for anyone to hear.

He didn’t know Joe had crept up behind him.

“Hey.” Joe snapped the ball to Gabe. “You’re holding up okay for an old geezer. How old are you, anyway?”

“Thirty-eight.” Gabe spun the ball away.

“Shoot, Rick’s older than you. He’s over the hill—forty,” Manny taunted, obviously to needle his brother. “Gabe, you’re doing great. Most newcomers don’t last this long, so we’ll understand if you sit out the second half.”

“I play handball and racquetball,” Gabe grunted. He didn’t say so, but he was determined to last through to the end, if for no other reason than to show Rick Navarro he wasn’t a quitter.

His pride cost him dearly, but he managed to hide his heaving chest and walk off the court without limping when the game finally wound down.

However, Gabe wasn’t at all sure he’d last to the end of the day. The sheep were no more tractable after lunch. No one was happier to see the sun set and hear Benito call it a day than Gabe.

“Coming up to the
caserío
for supper?” Joe asked, slowing to walk with Gabe while the others dispersed.

“Thanks, but no.” He squinted into the evening
gloom at Benito striding out ahead. “Your dad amazes me. He’s worked side by side all day with young guys, and he’s still walking tall.”

“He’s aged this past year. Took what happened to Bella really hard. He doesn’t know how to help her through this ordeal. All he knows how to do is to work harder. She’d never ask for money, so for him it comes down to putting more food on the table.”

“Is your sister strapped for cash?”

“The judge moved Julian’s trial to Bend. She’ll have to stay there or commute. Either way, her bakery suffers.”

“Bend, huh? I guess the judge felt a jury out of this jurisdiction would be more impartial. For good reason, I’d think. Keep someone from lynching the bastard.”

“That’s what the prosecutor said. Hey, are you a lawyer? Trini heard you were.”

“I have a law degree, but my expertise is in financial law. The state’s prosecuting this case, right?”

“Yes, but Bella wants to learn as much as she can so there’re no slipups.”

“She’ll wear herself out trying to second-guess the defense.”

“That’s the way Bella is. Sure you won’t come in for supper?”

“Thanks, but no. I’ve got some phone calls to make. What time shall I be here in the morning?”

“We start before sunup.”

Gabe threw him a backhanded wave. He hoped he could get out of bed, period, let alone before the sun came up.

He’d traveled partway down his driveway, then realized there were lights on in his house. Hadn’t he shut them off after he’d changed into jeans? Maybe not.
He’d been kind of rattled, and worried sick about Isabella.

Not wanting to muddy the hardwood floors, Gabe removed his boots. He’d no sooner set foot inside the house than he heard feminine voices coming from the kitchen. He’d totally forgotten that Benito had arranged to have Ruby organize a cleaning party until he walked into the kitchen and saw her and Isabella scrubbing his stove. He noticed the improvement immediately. Where there’d been a pervasive odor of stale onions and garlic, he now smelled a fresh, apple-cinnamon scent. “What a difference you ladies have made to this place in only one day.”

Isabella dropped her sponge. “Gabe! We didn’t hear you come in. Is something wrong? Why are you home already?”

“We’ve finished for the day. It’s getting dark.”

“So late?” Ruby exclaimed. “Goodness, Mama will wonder why I haven’t come to help with supper. I thought she’d send Teresa to fetch us.” She stripped off her rubber gloves and dropped them in a basket before dashing out the back door.

“How long have you been here?” Gabe casually inspected the changes.

“Ruby and Sylvia cleaned the living and dining rooms this morning. Then Sylvia had a meeting at church. I closed the bakery at four and came straight over here. The two of them had already started on the kitchen.”

“Well, you’ve worked miracles. How much do I owe you for your time and for cleaning materials?” Gabe reached for his wallet.

“We can’t charge you,” Sylvia and Isabella protested in unison. “If John had been quicker to pack,
we’d have had this done before you got back from Utah,” Sylvia added.

“I don’t feel right about letting you work without pay.”

“You pitched in at our place last night. Neighbors help neighbors.” Sylvia headed for the back door as if the issue had been settled. “Let those drip pans soak overnight, Bella. Ruby and I can finish in the morning. Oh, maybe you’d leave us a note as to what needs done in the bedrooms, Gabe. Tag any furniture you don’t want. The church thrift shop will send over a crew to pick it up.”

Isabella read the indecisiveness on Gabe’s face. “Syl, I’m going to stick around and tidy up what we started. Tell Mama I’ll be along in a bit. But don’t let her hold up supper. I’m really not hungry.”

“When are you?” Sylvia eyed her sister with a perplexed expression. “Are you sure, Bella?” She hovered near the door, finally asking outright, although in a low voice, “Aren’t you worried what people like Dolores Santiago or Nona Baroja will say if they learn you spent time alone with Gabe?”

Isabella rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Sylvia. Those two and Aunt Carmen need to get a life.”

“It’s you I’m worried about,
caro.
”

“I’ll be fine. After all, my whole family is within shouting distance,” she said wryly.

Still frowning unhappily, Sylvia went out, but she left the door ajar.

For several seconds after Gabe had shut it, the only noise in the kitchen was Isabella’s scrubbing, which vied with the loudly ticking wall clock.

“I’d hate to cause you problems in the community.
That’s the big reason I refused Trini’s offer to keep house for me.”

“And the small reason is?”

Gabe propped a hip against the counter next to the stove. “Tell me why you sent Sylvia home.”

Markedly flustered, Isabella swung around and plunged her hands in the soapy water again. “Call me compulsive. I don’t like leaving chores half-done.”

“Fair enough. I could be wrong about Trini having an ulterior motive for her offer. If I’ve misjudged her, I’m sorry.”

Isabella’s spine stiffened, then slowly relaxed. “I should take exception just because she’s my sister. But Trini’s young, and flirtatious. The rest of us believe it’s because Papa let her spend a year in California with his cousins.”

“And?”

She turned to gaze at him curiously. “And nothing.”

“And her older siblings envy her? Or is it just you?”

“No!” With jerky motions, Isabella scooped out the drip pans. She dried all four and popped them beneath the burners. “Trini told me, ah…how you handled the lamb last night,” she blurted. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Gabe watched her peel off her gloves. He knew if he didn’t think of something to stop her, she’d run away in a minute or two. “Stay and join me for a cup of coffee, will you? I noticed someone cleaned the coffee-maker. That day I was at your bakery, I drove on over to Burns.” He smiled as charmingly as he could. “All I bought was a coffee grinder and a variety pack of beans.” He fell silent, well aware that—as a caterer—her indecision warred with her curiosity to learn what kinds of beans he’d bought.

Curiosity won, as Gabe had hoped.

“If you have Amaretto, I can’t possibly bring myself to turn down your invitation.”

“What do you know? You’re in luck. If you’ll give me a minute, I have to get the package. It’s still in my SUV.”

Isabella caught him as he limped toward the door. “Gabe, wait. Forgive me for not realizing how badly you must want to shower. I should take off and let you get at it.”

“I’ll do a quick once-over with a washcloth, if you’ll dig out the coffee and grinder.”

There was a wistfulness to his words which Isabella found compelling. “Okay, give me your key. I’ll even brew the coffee…. That ought to allow you time to shower.”

“Okay—thanks. I won’t be long.”

“You’re not used to physical labor, are you?” Seeing how fast Gabe glanced away, Isabella sighed. “You’d drop in your tracks before you’d admit it. Am I right?”

“On the walk home tonight, I got to thinking how great a hot tub would feel about now. Tomorrow I’ll see about ordering one. Can’t you picture it in the breezeway between the house and the garage?”

“A hot tub? I’ve only ever seen them in home decorating magazines. Buy one of those, and you’ll have to post no-trespassing signs.”

“Why? Oh, you mean the neighbors will sneak over and use it?”

“More like they’ll figure a way to add a chute and fill it with sheep-dip.”

Gabe tipped back his head and broke into laughter. The image her words brought to mind suddenly struck him as hilarious.

Isabella snatched the keys from his hand and rushed out to find the coffee and grinder. When she returned, she heard the shower. As the coffee perked, she compiled a list of what he needed to fill his cupboards. She decided he lacked just about everything. Dragging out a wastebasket, Isabella began pitching opened boxes and cartons right and left.

Gabe walked back in to see her standing on a kitchen chair, stretched up on tiptoe, her entire upper body leaning sideways as she reached inside one of his cabinets. Some three inches of pale skin showed in the gap between her sweater and slacks. It was a fine view. He all but swallowed his tongue and must’ve made some noise—enough to startle her. She yelped and lost her footing, and knocked her head on the frame. Her arms flailed as she started to go over backward.

Despite the protests of every bone in his body, Gabe dashed across the kitchen in record time. He caught Isabella as she tumbled. Even then, her foot knocked over the chair. It smacked down hard on Gabe’s bare foot, striking him across the big toe and rendering his whole foot numb.

Isabella struggled to be set free. “Put me down! Let me go this instant.”

He set her on the kitchen counter. “Goddamn,” he exclaimed, hopping around on one foot as he tried to inspect his bruised toe.

A trill of laughter brought Gabe’s attention back to the woman he’d unceremoniously dumped. A woman he’d thought couldn’t laugh. All Gabe managed in the throes of pain was to gape at her classically beautiful face, made more beautiful by genuine mirth. So what that it came at his expense?

“We’d pass for walk-ons in a ‘Three Stooges’ skit,”
she said. “I hope you didn’t hit the counter? Trini broke her toe once kicking Manny. She missed him and struck the wall instead. You wouldn’t believe how long she limped around.” Isabella’s smile began to fade, replaced by concern. Jumping off the counter, she knelt to inspect Gabe’s foot.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” He stumbled back two steps, fighting the effect of her warm breath.

“Oh, that’s good.” She rose, rubbing nervously along her arms. “But…your toe’s going to be badly bruised.”

“It’s nothing.”

“I’m sorry I was hysterical, yelling at you like that. When Julian got angry with me, he liked to catch me off guard, grab me from behind and shake me until my teeth rattled.” She turned away—but not before Gabe saw that the life had been snuffed from her eyes again.

“Julian’s a sick bastard. I’d never raise a hand toward you or any woman, Isabella,” he said softly. “Ever.”

She looked at him and nodded, yet her teeth worried her bottom lip.

“Hey, let’s test that coffee. I figure we’ve got about ten minutes before someone from your family shows up to escort you home.”

“They wouldn’t dare. I may be living at home again, but they respect that I’m a grown woman.”

“Okay. Then have a seat. I’ll do the honors and pour.” Gabe picked up the pot, Then he whirled back, wearing a sheepish expression. “Uh…do I have cups?”

Isabella pointed to a cabinet directly behind him. She could have gone and retrieved them for him. Except…she recalled how it’d felt to have the hands now
holding the coffeepot wrapped around her waist. Her mother said Gabe had held her and rocked her last night during her flashback, too. Luckily the episode was shorter than normal. Did that indicate her subconscious was forgetting Julian’s horrible deed? She couldn’t let that happen. Not until he was imprisoned for the rest of his natural life.

Feeling guilty, she remembered the true reason she’d stayed behind after Sylvia left. Isabella had some legal questions she hoped Gabe would answer. She needed his professional advice; she couldn’t allow herself to become too aware of him as a man.