Jacob's Ladder: Gabe (Jacob's Ladder #1)

When she met my gaze, her blue eyes widened. After saying something to the other women, she made a beeline to our table—well, as much of a beeline as a ninety-two-year-old woman can.

“Well, well, look who it is—my darling niece and nephew,” Aunt Sadie said. Her gaze bobbed from us over to Gabe. “And I don’t believe I’ve met your handsome companion.”

“This is Gabe Renard. He’s just passing through from Atlanta,” I replied.

Aunt Sadie smiled her usual cat-ate-the-canary smile. “Why, I’m aware that he’s not from here, sweetheart. I know everyone in this town, and I’ve certainly never had the pleasure of meeting him before.”

Although Aunt Sadie had never married, she certainly had never lacked for male attention. After her fiancé had been killed in World War II, she’d vowed never to marry. While she might not have ever donned the white dress and veil, she was not going to die a virgin. She was probably one of the first liberated women of her day in Hayesville.

When Aunt Sadie dangled her hand in front of Gabe’s face, he politely shook it. “It’s very nice meeting you as well. In my short stay in town, I’ve met several of Rae’s family members.”

“I’m sure the pleasure is all mine.”

“Would you like to join us for dessert?” Gabe asked.

“I would love to.”

“But what about your friends? Surely it would be rude to leave them,” I piped up.

Aunt Sadie waved her hand. “They certainly won’t mind me jumping ship to have dessert with my niece and her handsome friend.”

My mouth gaped open when Gabe rose out of his chair to pull out the chair next to him for Sadie. Was he seriously that thoughtful and considerate? It was too hard to believe the same egotistical jerk-wad from the previous day and that morning was acting like he was a gentleman out of a Jane Austen novel. It was like he had pulled a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

“If you don’t close your mouth, Reagan, you might catch a fly,” Aunt Sadie chided as she took a seat.

After clamping my lips together, I made the mistake of looking at Gabe, who had the audacity to wink at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking about him.

God, he was such an egomaniac, and man, I hoped he didn’t make a reappearance in my dreams that night. Well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad…





Sitting around the table with Rae, Sadie, and Linc felt just like being at home, which was strange considering they were practically strangers to me. More than anything, they were completely genuine around me. They weren’t spending time with me because I was Gabe Renard of Jacob’s Ladder. To all of them except for Linc, I was nothing special, just an average Joe. After so many years in the business, it was refreshing as hell to be able to feel so free.

When a melody entered my head, I froze midsentence. Pinching my eyes shut, I searched for the right lyrics to go with it. As they started to come, I started tapping my foot in time with the melody.

“Are you all right?” Rae asked.

I snapped my eyes open. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine.” Glancing around the restaurant, I looked for the restroom sign. When I saw it at the back of the dining room, I popped out of my seat. “I’ll be right back.”

The heated stares from the others at the table bore into my back as I made my getaway. I was sure they were all wondering what the hell my problem was. Knowing Rae’s disdain for me and rockers in general, she probably thought I was escaping to the bathroom for a drug fix.

When I hurried into the bathroom, I thankfully found it empty. Since I’d left my journal in the Jeep, I would have to improvise as far as what to write on. As my gaze spun around the room, I held out hope for paper towels rather than a dryer. I could write so much better on paper towels than I could toilet paper. Jackpot. Ripping off a long section, I then locked myself in a stall and pulled the Hart and Daughter pen out of my pocket. After knocking out three songs with it the other day, I’d decided to replace my once lucky pen.

I balanced the paper towel across my knee and started furiously scribbling down the chords I heard in my head. When I’d gotten the main melody down, I started adding in the lyrics that flowed through me. Reading back over my work, I smiled. This one was certainly lighthearted and brighter in tone than the other three I’d written.

“Gabe?” Linc questioned outside the stall.

I jerked my head up. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“Mom wanted me to check on you since it’s been almost thirty minutes.”

Holy shit. It felt like I had just sat down. I’d been so lost in the songwriting zone that I had no idea how much time had passed. Even though I could have continued writing, I couldn’t leave Rae and Linc hanging. I gently folded up the paper towel and stuffed it into my pocket, along with my pen.

When I came out of the stall, I met Linc’s concerned face. “Do you want me to see if Mom has some tummy medicine?”

I laughed. “While I appreciate the offer, it’s not necessary. I wasn’t in here with the shits. I was writing a song.”

Linc’s face lit up. “You were?”

“Yep.”

“So you weren’t lying when you said just hanging out with my mom helped you with your songs.”

“Nope. It’s the God’s honest truth.” I went over to the sink to start washing my hands. Glancing back at him in the mirror, I said, “Besides the win of me starting another song, I think tonight went pretty well. How about you?”

Linc nodded enthusiastically. “Mom made it all the way through dinner and dessert without going off on you. Sometimes she even seemed to like talking to you.”

With a grin, I replied, “I thought as much.”

“So, what happens now?”

“There’s no doubt about it—I have to see her again tomorrow.”

“What excuse are you going to use this time? She knows you’re in town, so you can’t really just bump into her like you did tonight.”

“Good point.” Tilting my head in thought, I dried my hands. “I need—no, I want to do something nice for her.”

“Like flowers?”

“Nah, that’s a go-to kind of gift, the kind every guy uses when he wants to do something nice for a girl. I want to do something unique, something that would make her day.”

“You could bring her breakfast.”

“That’s not exactly the angle I was going for, but since you’re her son and know her pretty well, I’ll hear you out.”

“She loves French toast, and even though my Aunt Kennedy owns a bakery, she refuses to make French toast.”

“Why?”

Lowering his voice, Linc said, “It’s because of this guy she dated a long time ago when she was taking cooking classes in France.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Anyway, Mom hardly ever gets her favorite breakfast because the restaurants around here only serve pancakes and waffles, not French toast.”

“If there’s none around here, where the hell am I going to find it to bring it to her?”

“Her favorite one is forty-five minutes from here.”

Groaning, I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “Let me get this straight: I’m supposed to spend an hour and a half on the road just to get French toast.”

“Yep.”

“Maybe I could hire your aunt to make some.”