Angel's Rest

chapter SIXTEEN





Gabe suspected that kissing her was a mistake, but his body didn’t care. He felt great. Spectacular.

He felt horny.

Something had changed between him and Nic during these weeks they’d lived in the same house, but not together. He didn’t have a term for it, or if he did, he wasn’t prepared to admit what it was. All he knew for certain was that against what had seemed like insurmountable odds, springtime had returned to his soul. Like the cottonwoods and aspen blooming on the mountainside, he’d survived the long, harsh winter. He wanted to live again. And, he wanted to do that living with her.

Beneath the starlit sky and surrounded by the clean, fresh scent of a mountain springtime, Gabe kissed her, a kiss different from any he’d shared with her before. It was passionate yet gentle. It was a kiss from his heart.

Nic responded in kind. She was so sweet. Warm. Welcoming. She was light. Brightness, when he’d lived in darkness for so long.

He broke the kiss and drew back, watching her closed eyes, the way her tongue snaked out and licked her lips as though she savored the taste of him. It was then, in that moment, that he knew. No, no mistake. It was time. It was right. She was right.

She opened her eyes, and their gazes met and held. “Nicole? Can I take you to bed?”

Her smile bloomed slow and sweet and soft. “Take me here, Gabriel. It’s a beautiful, quiet night. Spread the blanket on the grass.”

He grinned. “You sure? We’ll freeze our asses off.”

“Something tells me heat won’t be a problem.”

He laughed out loud at that, then rose and spread out a blanket and quilts. Then he held his hand out to her and she took it, rising and moving naturally, gracefully into his arms. He bent down to her and they kissed. She tasted of lemon bars and smelled of a Rocky Mountain spring.

His hand stroked down her back, over the curve of her hip, then up again. When she made a soft sigh of pleasure into his mouth, he groaned in reply. Then, careful of her knee, he scooped her into his arms and knelt. He lowered her onto her back as if she were the most precious of jewels, then smiled down into the deep, blue depths of her eyes and allowed himself to fall. He took the moment for himself and for her and it was … good.

Tender, yet erotic. Physical, yet gentle. They took their time this time, learning each other, enjoying each other, giving pleasure and receiving pleasure in return. It was more than simply sex. It was rebirth for Gabe and a new beginning for them both.

Afterward, Gabe lay on his back staring up at the starry sky, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other around his wife. He felt as if he’d just scaled a mountain pass and discovered Shangri-La on the other side. It was a place, a state, he’d like never to have to leave. He was sated, satisfied, luxuriating in boneless aprés-orgasm bliss—and, thank God, free of both guilt and ghosts.

Almost happy.

That thought threatened his mellow mood, and he told himself to turn away from it. This was not the time to analyze and fret. Not the time to resurrect those ghosts. He needed to live for the moment, in the moment. So far, so good. He hadn’t invited thoughts of Jennifer into his bed—such as it was—with Nic. That’s the way it should stay for both their sakes. Nice. Simple. Surface.

“Are you okay?” Nic asked, showing an uncanny ability to read his mind.

He tried to bluff his way through it. “Let me catch my breath and I could be better.”

A long moment passed in silence. He thought she’d let it go, and he started to relax.

Too soon, it turned out.

Her quiet voice chastised. “Don’t hide from me, Gabe. Not now.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but shut it again without speaking when she rose up on her elbow. The soft light from the garden lanterns bathed her form, revealing the solemn entreaty in her eyes. “This was a big step for both of us. Look, I’m not trying to be your psychologist or your grief counselor, but I think it’s important that we communicate. It’s part of any healthy relationship.”

“I don’t like to talk about my feelings.”

“Well, at least you admit you have feelings. Look, I’m not asking for details about your sex life with Jennifer. What I’m asking is for you to talk to me. Give me a clue here.”

He scowled. “I think what just happened was a pretty big clue, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do. But until you confirm it, I’m just guessing. I’m still learning who you are, Gabe. I could guess wrong, and that could lead to misunderstandings that could hurt us both. I need to know what to expect. Or, in this case, what not to expect. That’s not asking too much.”

“You’re asking where we go from here?”

“Yes.”

“I’m hoping upstairs to bed.”

“Together?”

“Yeah.”

“And what about tomorrow night? Tonight has been a change, but I’m clueless how big a change it’s been. My leg is better. I can get along okay on my own. Where do we go from here, Gabe? Will you stay, here, in my bed? Or will you go?”

“You sure ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” When she didn’t respond to that, but simply stared at him with a steady, solemn gaze, he sighed and closed his eyes. “All right. All right. I want to stay here. I want to move into your bedroom. I’d like a regular sex life again.”

He opened his eyes then and gave her a sidelong look. “So, you happy now? I spilled my guts. Did it spoil the mood?”

“You didn’t spoil the mood for me.” She trailed a finger down the center of his chest to his navel. “Honest talk turns me on.”

Her hand continued its southward trek and his body responded to her touch. When her mouth traced the path of her hand, he gave himself up to a long-missed pleasure until his hunger grew too hot, too fierce. He pulled her up, positioned her above him, her knees straddling his hips, and took her fast, with lots of enthusiasm and little finesse. When they finished and she collapsed atop him, laughing breathlessly, he stroked the silken waterfall of her hair and wondered if the demonstration of risk-reward had been a conscious one. Somehow he doubted she did anything coincidentally.

He shook his head in wonder. “I don’t know what to make of you, Nic.”

She propped herself up and met his gaze. “Why do you say that?”

“You are a wonderful woman. You’re gorgeous, witty, intelligent. Sexy as hell. I am a head case.” Though he wasn’t at all certain he wanted the answer, he finished with a quiet question. “Why are you willing to put up with this BS from me?”

She slid off him then, sat beside him, and wrapped herself in a blanket. “My turn for some honest talk, I guess.”

Never mind, he wanted to say.

“The truth is that if not for the babies, I probably wouldn’t be in this. The odds are against us. You are more work than I need at this point in my life. Plus I have a bone-deep aversion to being any man’s doormat.”

“Doormat? Excuse me?” He didn’t like that all. He didn’t treat her like a doormat. Did he? Guilt snaked through him, but this time he refused to accept it.

“Work with me here, Callahan. See, I need you to understand me, too. While I definitely have a wish-upon-a-star side to me, the bottom line is that I’m a pragmatic kind of girl. I like a road map. I saw what living without one did to my mother. She put up with a man’s mistreatment for years, and it cost her the entire life she could have had with a man who deserved her.”

“You think I mistreat you?” he asked, annoyed.

“No. That’s not what I’m saying. Look, the path we’ve started down is uncharted territory, and there’s not an atlas for us in the self-help section of the bookstore. Believe me, I’ve checked. Advice for WOWs doesn’t really help in this case.”

“Wow?”

“Wife of a widower. See, it’s the added letters for the acronym that makes it dicey. I’m a PWOW or PWT-WOW or APWT-WOW. Accidentally-pregnant-with-twins wife of a widower. That puts an entirely different spin on the situation.”

Technically he wasn’t a widower any longer since he was married to her, but he thought it best not to bring that up. She appeared to be on edge. “Nic, maybe we should go inside. Get you some warm milk. It’ll help you calm down.”

Jen had always liked warm milk when she was pregnant.

She scowled at him, and he recognized he’d sounded patronizing, but she did look a little wild-eyed at the moment.

“Stop it,” she snapped. “See, here’s the thing. I understand that we have happened too soon for you. In a perfect world, you would have had a lot more time to let go of the past relationship before attempting to begin a new one. Unfortunately, our world isn’t perfect.”

“Tell me about it. My wife died.”

The barb visibly hit home, and as he saw Nic flinch, his feeling of guilt intensified. Before he could apologize, she continued, “I get that the grieving process for you will be full of fits and starts. But like it or not, I’m part of your life, which automatically makes me part of your grief. I understand that Jennifer is always going to be part of our relationship. I think I can deal with that, but only if we to learn to talk about her. I won’t ignore the ghost in the room. Not anymore.”

Gabe rolled to his feet and shoved his legs into his jeans. “I think I need that warm milk.”

With a shot of whiskey in it.

She followed him inside wearing only a blanket wrapped around herself. “You are healing, Gabe. Slowly but surely. I understand that you’re not yet ready to move on. But that’s as far as my mind reading goes. See, I don’t know if you’ve decided to sleep with me now because you’re ready for physical intimacy and any woman would do.”

“Hey now.” He jerked back at the low blow. “I’ve never given you cause to think that.”

“True. So maybe it’s not that I’m handier than a whore. Maybe I’m simply your rebound girl. Maybe when you finally are ready for emotional intimacy, you’ll want it to be with someone other than me.”

“Where did this come from?” Dammit, he’d felt so good just a few minutes earlier. Why was she ruining it? “You make me sound like a real ass, Nic.”

“No, you’re a man. Sometimes that’s just the same thing,” she fired back. She took a deep calming breath, then continued. “I can’t have it be a surprise, Gabe. For our babies’ sake, and, frankly, because I have strong feelings for you myself, I’m willing to roll the dice with you. But I need you to give a little in return. The times in my life when men have been able to hurt me are when I didn’t see the trouble coming.”

Strong feelings? What were strong feelings in her book? He skipped the milk and grabbed the vodka from the freezer since it was the closest available alcohol.

“You need to communicate, Gabe,” she continued. “It’s important in every aspect of our marriage, but especially when it comes to sex.”

Strong feelings. He scowled at her. Was that her way of saying she loved him?

Feeling cornered, he lashed out. “You want to communicate about sex? All right. Fine. You give good head, Nic.”

“You are such a jerk, Callahan.” She lifted her chin and gave her hair a regal toss. “It’s a good thing I’m a vet and understand how wounded animals lash out. Of course, I also know what to use to put them down. Maybe you should remember that.”

He laughed at that, poured a shot of vodka, and threw it back like water. Then, without conscious thought, he filled a mug with milk and set it in the microwave to heat. Nic watched him and a tiny, sad smile played on her lips.

As he punched in the time, she approached him and rested her hand on his arm. “Gabe, I will never understand what it’s like for you, the complexity of your feelings, or the depth of your grief. But you are my husband and the father of my children. I care enough about you to listen with an open mind and an open heart.”

He closed his eyes. Emotion coiled within him. A part of him wanted to open up, to share how great she made him feel, to tell her that she … mattered. But a bigger part of him wanted to keep his mouth shut, sweep her up into his arms, and carry her upstairs to his bed so he could exorcise his demons in more mind-numbing sex.

“I’m asking you again, are you okay?”

“Didn’t I already answer that question?”

“You answered the superficial question. We’re sleeping together now. Surface doesn’t cut it.”

As the microwave dinged, he grabbed hold of the counter with both hands and dropped his chin to his chest. “You’re not giving this up, are you?”

“It’s too important.”

Surrendering, Gabe cleared his throat. “Here’s the thing about surface, Nic. Living on the surface, I can keep my head above water. Most times, treading is the best I can do.”

“Treading isn’t living, Gabe.”

“I know. But see, every so often, my feet find the sand. I start to think I can make it to the beach. Then, invariably and without any warning, the pain will roll in like a tsunami. It’ll flatten me, knock me right on my ass. Sometimes I can climb right up again. Other times I get caught in the undertow.”

“That’s when you need a life preserver, Gabe.”

He turned his head and looked at her. “And I find that hanging on the wall here, is that what you’re saying?”

“I can throw it to you if you want. I’ll man the line to pull you to safety. However, I need you to ask. I need to know that you want not to drown.”

“I think I’m getting a bit lost in this metaphor.” Gabe punched the button to open the microwave. He removed the mug of milk and handed it to her, saying, “Here’s the deal, Nic. You ask how I feel. Right now I feel pretty good. Hell, I feel great. I’ve missed sex. Being with you tonight was fantastic. I’d like nothing more than to have it become a regular part of my life.

“That said, I’d love to be able to say that I’ve put my guilt and ghosts behind me for good. But I can’t promise that. I’m not trying to be a jerk here. I know it’s not fair to you, and it makes me feel like a bottom-feeder to say it, but no matter how good I feel tonight, I know there’s a chance I’ll wake up in the morning feeling like I cheated on Jen.”

“Fair enough.” She nodded, and a little smile played upon her lips. “Thank you for talking to me, Gabe. That’s what I need. I’ve thought about this a lot. I’m ready to be patient and understanding and a veritable tower of strength—as long as you don’t shut me out.” She sipped her milk, then set the mug down. Holding out her hand toward him, she suggested, “Now, why don’t you take me to bed?”

The band around his chest relaxed, and the corners of his mouth tilted up. “A bed? Really? With a mattress and everything?”

“With a mattress and everything.”

He took hold of her hand. “Your room or mine?”

“Doesn’t matter.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “Pick one, and let’s make it ours.”


If not for the lingering soreness in her leg, Nic would have skipped down the street as she made her way to Sarah’s house to put the final touches on plans for Lori’s upcoming birthday party. Life was good. In the week since Pam showed up at the clinic, Gabe had spent every night in her bed and burrowed his way deeper into her heart.

Today he’d come by the house for lunch and brought her flowers.

Ali Timberlake pulled up in front of Sarah’s house as Nic turned the corner of Sixth and Aspen. Ali was in town visiting her son, Chase, who was working at the Double R, and Sarah had invited her to stop by and share the scoop on what was all the rage in the way of teenage birthday parties in Denver this year. Nic clucked her tongue at the sight of Ali’s little red BMW convertible. That was one gorgeous car.

“And one happy woman,” she murmured, watching curiously as Ali ended a phone call then threw her arms into the air and cheered. She climbed out of her car, danced a little jig, then waved at Nic. “Good morning!”

“It appears so. You look like a happy camper.”

“I am. My husband, Mac, just called. He’s been offered a federal judgeship. It’s been his dream for as long as I’ve known him.”

“That’s wonderful news. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I’m so proud of him. Proud for him.” She beamed a smile at Nic, then added, “Don’t you look cute today. Love your shirt. That twist front is chic. I wish they’d had maternity tops that stylish when I needed them.”

“Thanks.” Nic rested a hand on the bump that these days seemed to be growing by the hour. “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to wear it, though. This empire waist is British Empire–size. The rate I’m going, I’ll need it to be galactic empire–size.”

Ali laughed. “Before I forget, I stopped to visit with Celeste for a few minutes and Gabe flagged me down on the way out. He asked me to ask you to swing by Angel’s Rest on your way home and pick up the boxer. Apparently he’s too curious about the rock work being done by the hot springs, and he’s making a pest of himself with the workers.”

“Oh, now. That’s a big fat lie. What’s probably happening is that there’s a dog lover or two in the group and they’re spending too much time in Gabe’s estimation playing with Tiger.”

Ali grinned and nodded. “You might be right. Celeste did say that Gabe has been spending most of his time down by the hot springs. I know dogs are loyal creatures, but I have to say that Tiger is the most dedicated dog I’ve ever seen. Especially to someone who goes out of his way to pretend he’s not the dog’s master.”

“You see that, do you? Gabe rescued Tiger from a trap last fall and the dog has been his shadow ever since. Gabe loves Tiger, but he refuses to admit it.”

“What’s the deal with his name?” Ali asked as they stepped up onto Sarah’s front porch. “When someone asks what his name is, Gabe says he doesn’t have one.”

Nic rolled her eyes. “What can I say? My husband is a stubborn fool.”

She rapped on Sarah’s door, then, in the way of the casual habits of old friends, opened the door and stepped inside. “Sarah? Ali and I are here.”

Sarah called down from upstairs. “I’ll be down in a minute. Make yourselves at home.”

Nic inspected the treats in the kitchen with interest and was delighted to spy not only her favorite brownies but lemon bars as well. Lemon bars now had a special place in Nic’s heart.

“Would you like coffee?” she asked Ali. “Sarah always has a pitcher of iced tea in her fridge, too. Let’s see what else she has.” Nic opened the refrigerator door and peeked inside. “Milk, bottled water, OJ, tomato juice …”

“How about a glass of iced tea?”

At that moment, Sarah breezed into the kitchen, a harried look in her expression. “Sorry. Mom’s having another bad day. I don’t think the new meds are really helping the situation at all.”

Nic took three glasses out of Sarah’s cabinet and filled two of them with ice, then poured two glasses of tea and one of milk. “Sarah, honey, you are the best daughter a mother could have, but you need to start thinking about—”

“I know. I know.” Sarah blinked back tears as she grabbed a spiral notebook and pen from the counter and sat down at the table. “Just … not yet.”

Nic met Ali’s gaze. “She’s also a little over the top about Lori’s being a senior next year.”

Ali shook her head, then reached out and clasped Sarah’s hand. “You’re allowed to be over the top. I know I get weepy-eyed thinking about Caitlin going off to school. It’s a very emotional time for both mothers and daughters.”

“Yeah, well, Lori’s emotional involvement revolves around her impatience to leave Eternity Springs,” Sarah grumbled. “Although I will say that’s changed somewhat since your son came to town, Ali. She has a serious crush on Chase.”

Ali shook her head. “He’s a horrible flirt.”

“So what’s the scoop there, Ali?” Sarah asked. “Are you glad that your son is the Double R’s newest trail rider?”

“Absolutely. Last summer he worked as a whitewater rafting guide, and I swear my gray hairs multiplied like rabbits because of it.”

Sarah nodded. “That would scare me, too.”

“A parent can know too much,” Ali told her. “It’s different now than when we went off to school. Cell phones are a tether to your kids, and I’m not sure that’s such a good thing. When I was off at college, my dad called me at one o’clock every Sunday afternoon. That was our time. I had to be there to take his call. But the rest of the time, he didn’t know where I was or what I was doing.”

“Were you a bad girl, Ali Timberlake?” Nic teased.

She paused a moment, and a wicked little grin played upon her lips. “That depends on your definition of bad, I guess.”

Sarah groaned. “Maybe we should change the subject? I’d just as soon not think about a definition for bad right now.”

Nic studied her friend and frowned. The tight line in Sarah’s brow and the edge in her voice suggested that it might have been a really, really bad morning for Sarah, family-wise. In honor of their friendship, Nic decided to lob out a distraction. “Then I guess I’d better not say anything about Mrs. Landsbury’s definition of bad or the grief she’s been giving me.”

Sarah bit. “Your next-door neighbor? What’s put the bee in her bonnet?”

“She’s decided I’m misbehaving, and she’s keeping an awfully close eye on my house from an upstairs window.” Nic paused significantly, then stared at her fingernails as she added, “It’s interfering with our honeymoon.”

“Honeymoon?” Sarah’s eyes brightened with interest. “Are we talking figure of speech or the real deal?”

Nic rolled her tongue around her mouth. “The real deal.”

Sarah slapped the table. “I knew it. I knew the man would get a brain at some point. Details, girlfriend. Dish.”

Nic noted Ali’s confusion and asked, “Are you not up to date on local gossip about my marriage?”

“Um … no. It’s not really my business.”

“You’ve never lived in a small town, have you?” Sarah observed.

“No.”

“It has its challenges,” Nic replied. “Having everybody know your business is one of them. Basic facts that everyone knows are that Gabe and I had to get married in the most old-fashioned sense of the word. What fewer people know but many suspect is that it hasn’t been the happiest of circumstances. Very few people in town know that Gabe is a fairly recent widower, and he’s had a difficult time dealing with his grief. The pregnancy happened before he was ready. However, I am happy to say that he has made great strides toward moving on in the past few weeks.”

“By striding right into your bed?”

Nic grinned. “That’s part of it.”

“Hurrah for you, but excuse me a moment while I get bilious with jealousy,” Sarah said.

Ignoring her, Nic continued. “But he’s also started talking about his first wife.”

“That’s a good thing?” Ali asked.

“Yes. I think so.”

Sarah frowned, thumping her pen against her notebook. “I don’t know, Nic. Remember when I dated Danny Hardesty? It was three years after his breakup with his fiancée, but he still spent part of every date telling me how horrible she was. I felt like we needed to tell the restaurants we needed a table for three.”

“It’s different with a widower, I think,” Nic said. “Gabe doesn’t talk about her constantly, but she always has been the proverbial elephant in the room—except this elephant was a tall, dark, Sophia Loren look-alike ghost.”

“Tell me he hasn’t put her photo in your house,” Sarah said.

“No, but I recently discovered he carries a picture of her and his baby in his wallet.”

“And that’s okay with you?” Ali asked.

“Sure. I don’t want him to kick her out of his heart; I want him to make room there for me. I think that his ability to talk about his life with her makes that easier. Don’t get me wrong—if he starts to yammer on about her like Danny Hardesty did with you, I’ll reconsider. I’m walking a line here between being understanding and sympathetic and being a doormat.”

“Doormat has never been a good look for you,” Sarah replied, and Nic smirked in agreement.

Ali cleared her throat, then observed, “One of my husband’s friends lost his wife to breast cancer after they’d been very happily married for twenty years. He told me that letting go of her was brutal, but once he’d done that, he found a special joy in discovering an equally happy relationship with another woman. He said that once he was able to commit himself to someone new, his life was richer because he had a new appreciation for life and love that made him determined to enjoy every minute of it.”

“He sounds like a great guy,” Sarah said. “Why can’t I meet a guy like that?”

“He is a great guy,” Ali replied. “And you shouldn’t give up, Sarah. Who knows, your great guy could walk into the Trading Post this afternoon.” To Nic, she added, “I can see Gabe being like my husband’s friend.”

“Me too. Gabe is a good guy, he really is. Oh, he can be a pain, don’t get me wrong, but I am more hopeful today than I’ve been in … well … since the stick turned blue.”

Sarah’s teeth tugged at her bottom lip. “I hope you’re right, Nic. I just …”

“What?”

“Never mind. I should keep my mouth shut.”

“Yeah, right. Like when has that ever happened?” When Sarah scowled at her, Nic said, “Really, Sarah. I trust your instincts. I want to hear what you have to say.”

“Okay. But don’t get mad.” Sarah sipped her tea, then said, “My fear is that you’re setting yourself up for him to break your heart. I’m afraid you will always be second-best with him, and I just can’t see you going through life as a consolation prize. You deserve better.”

“Ouch,” Ali said.

“You’re right. I do deserve better and I won’t hold on forever. I have too much pride for that. At some point the man will have to fish or cut bait. He’ll have to make room for me in his heart, not just in his bed.”

“So do you have a time period in mind, some cut-off date? And I mean that exactly like it sounds.”

“I’ve given him until the babies are six months old to make up his mind. I won’t allow him to drag his feet any longer than that. I’m trying to maintain my patience and faith. Frankly, I am making the man happy whether he wants to admit it or not. I have to believe that once he gets past the pain, he’ll want the joy he had before and he’ll let me, let us”—she patted her baby bump—“in. You’ve seen how he is with Tiger. He talks a good game, but then he slips the dog table scraps. Do you really think he’ll be able to hold out against us?”

“As long as he gives you more than table scraps,” Sarah said.

“Oh, that is so true,” Ali agreed, her voice ringing with conviction. “A woman should never put up with table scraps.”

Sarah shrugged. “Well, you make a good point. When it comes to the men in their lives, women shouldn’t settle. Nic knows it. I just don’t want her to forget it. She needs to think about her marriage like she does Mexican food.”

“Mexican food?” Ali asked.

“We love Mexican food,” Nic explained.

“And Nic deserves the whole enchilada.” Sarah picked up her pen and grabbed her notebook. “Okay, enough about you. Let’s talk Lori and the perfect birthday party thrown by the perfect mother.”

“Not to mention,” Nic said, her heart filled with love, “the perfect friends.”