Most of All You: A Love Story(63)

The truth was, what I’d told him was the worst of it. The thing that shamed me most of all. The thing that lay deep inside like a secret sickness. The thing that, until now, I’d never shared with another living soul.

“I love you, Eloise. That won’t change.”

I opened my eyes. He was the only thing that was solid in the whole wide world, and I sagged against him, a small strangled sound coming up my throat.

“Why does that scare you so much?”

“Because … because I’m afraid you’ll take it away.”

“Do I strike you as a man who loves carelessly or recklessly?”

“No.” The word was a broken whisper. Gabriel didn’t strike me as a man who did anything carelessly or recklessly.

“I won’t take it away.”

He said it with so much resolve, so much surety, as if it wasn’t a possibility at all. I wanted to believe. God, I wanted to so much but I didn’t know how to do that.

“Can I show you something?” he whispered.

I felt so unbalanced, so flustered and scared. So wrung dry. So unsure why Gabriel still loved me and why he’d started in the first place. “O-okay.”

He pulled back and took my hand, picking up my crutches where I’d dropped them on the ground and handing them to me. I followed him past the kitchen, where it looked like there had been a green and yellow paintball war. “Can I just change shirts quickly?”

“Of course.”

I ducked into my room and pulled on a clean shirt, using a wet towel in the bathroom to wipe as much goop from my face and hair as I could. When I was done, I rejoined Gabriel where he was waiting in the hall, and we headed out the front door and into his truck. “Where are we going?”

“We’re moving rather than cleaning up that kitchen.”

I surprised myself by laughing, and Gabriel grinned. We drove in silence for about ten minutes or so. I was still trying to calm my racing heart, trying to come to terms with my emotional meltdown, still feeling a bit of embarrassment and insecurity, but also a sense that something inside had swollen beyond capacity and burst free. I felt a sense of lightness I didn’t know how to explain.

Gabriel glanced at me and smiled warmly, reaching for my hand and holding it until we arrived at the turnoff to a small back road. I thought about another back road I’d been down recently—how Tommy Hull had demanded “payment” for a ride and then smacked me. A distant sense of anger gripped me at the memory, and I wished I’d fought him, wished I’d punched him the way George had taught me. Or better yet, wished I hadn’t gotten in his truck at all.

Not all men will take advantage of you just because they have the opportunity, but you gotta learn to spot the ones who might and then stay away.

I supposed I had a hard time spotting them at all. Men who took advantage were the familiar. My norm. It was the good men who were unfamiliar, foreign. Ironically, the good men were the ones who scared me. Like Gabriel.

Gabriel made a series of turns and pulled his truck over, smiling at me before hopping down and coming around to help me out, too. I looked around as we walked to the front of the truck. The area was heavily wooded, the leaves on the trees so many colors—vibrant gold and scarlet and small bursts of purple.

Up ahead was a dark red covered bridge running over a small creek. As we moved toward the bridge, I inhaled the crisp scent of autumn and running water. “This is what you wanted to show me?”

“Up here. Is your leg okay?”

“Yes, it’s fine.”

I studied the bridge as we moved toward it. To me, there had always been something so quaint and old-fashioned about covered bridges, something simple and romantic. But up until now I hadn’t dwelled much on romance. Not until Gabriel.

He led me to the edge of the bridge and walked along the outside, where there was a small ledge just above the shallow running water, shaded by the overhang of the bridge roof. I looked at him questioningly, and he took off his shoes and started rolling up his jeans. I watched as he did so, frowning slightly and then following suit, kicking off my one shoe. He sat down and put his feet in the water and laughed, grinning up at me with one eye squinted. Butterflies took flight in my belly, and I sat down next to him, scooting one hip back so my cast didn’t touch the water and dangling my bare foot in the creek. A small burst of laughter rose in my throat as the cold water swirled around my toes. “Oh, that’s cold.” I laughed again. But it felt good, like cool silk rushing over and along my skin to tickle up my ankle. It made me feel present and alive.

Gabriel leaned back on the side of the bridge and pointed down in front of him. Below us lay a valley of wildflowers in every hue, surrounded by the vibrant changing trees. For a moment the colorful beauty stole my breath. I’d lived in Vermont my whole life and I’d never spent more than a minute looking at the beauty of the landscape. Sitting there with Gabriel, I was stunned—almost overwhelmed—by it.

“There are rainbows everywhere,” Gabriel said, tilting his head and smiling at me.

I laughed softly, glancing at him, feeling suddenly shy by his closeness, by the way he was looking at me. A breeze stirred a piece of my hair into my face, and I brushed it back, closing my eyes and inhaling deeply as the scent of the wildflowers below found their way to us.

“I want to give you all of this,” Gabriel said softly. I opened my eyes and looked at him, at the serious expression on his beautiful face, the way his eyes seemed to see straight into my soul. The way he seemed to know everything about me. And now, I supposed he did. Most of it anyway.