Dream a Little Dream (Chicago Stars, #4)(192)

He wasn’t ready to face either Rachel or the boy, so he headed into town, where he picked up coffee at McDonald’s. Afterward, he made his way toward Ethan’s church and parked in his accustomed place a block away. He’d been attending services the last few Sundays, always sitting in the back, coming in late and leaving early so he didn’t have to talk to anyone.

Rachel had turned her back on God, but he’d never quite been able to do that. His faith wasn’t strong like his brother’s, and it hadn’t helped him. But something was there, and he couldn’t let it go.

Despite his recent irritation with Ethan, he liked hearing him preach. Ethan wasn’t one of those irritatingly righteous men of God who thundered absolutes and acted as if they had the only pipeline to heaven. Ethan preached tolerance and forgiveness, justice and compassion—everything, Gabe realized, that Ethan wasn’t showing to Rachel. His brother had never been a hypocrite, and Gabe couldn’t understand it.

He glanced across the congregation and saw that he wasn’t the only latecomer. Kristy Brown sneaked into a rear pew long after the Prayer of Confession. She wore a yellow dress with a very short skirt, and her expression practically dared people to make something of it. He smiled to himself. Like everyone else in Salvation, he’d never paid much attention to Kristy unless he’d needed something done. Now she’d become a force to be reckoned with.

After the service, he drove to Cal’s house and called his brother to tell him he was moving out for a while. When Cal heard why, he exploded.

“You’re moving in with the Widow Snopes? Ethan said you were tangled up with her, but I didn’t believe him. Now you’re living with her?”

“It’s not like that,” Gabe replied, even though that wasn’t quite the truth. “She’s become a target around here, and I think she’s in danger.”

“Then let Odell take care of it.”

Gabe heard a soft little mouse-like squeal in the background, and realized it was coming from his niece. Rosie was a beautiful baby, full of mischief and already itching to try her wings. A small pain lodged in his chest.

“Look, Gabe, I’ve talked to Ethan. I know you’ve always had a weakness for wounded animals, but this wounded animal is a rattlesnake. Anybody who’s been with you for five minutes can tell you’re an easy mark when it comes to money, and—Hey!”

“Gabe?” His sister-in-law’s voice cut in. Although Gabe had only been with Dr. Jane Darlington Bonner a few times, he had immediately taken to her. She was brainy, assertive, and decent, exactly what Cal needed after making a career out of youthful bimbos.

“Gabe, don’t listen to him,” Jane said. “Don’t listen to Ethan either. I like the Widow Snopes.”

Gabe felt duty-bound to point out the obvious. “That’s nice to hear, but I don’t believe you’ve ever met her, have you?”

“No,” his sister-in-law replied in her no-nonsense voice. “But I lived in her awful house. When Cal and I were having all our trouble—I know it sounds silly, but whenever I was in her bedroom or the nursery, I’d feel this funny kinship with her. There was this wickedness about the rest of the house, and a goodness about those two rooms. I always thought it came from her.”


He heard a bark of skeptical laughter from his brother in the background.

Gabe smiled. “Rachel’s the farthest thing I can imagine from a saint, Jane. But you’re right. She’s a good person, and she’s having a tough time. Try to keep big brother off my back for a while, will you?”

“I’ll do my best. Good luck, Gabe.”

He made some other calls, including one to Odell Hatcher, then packed up the perishables from the refrigerator and headed back to Heartache Mountain. It was mid-afternoon when he parked next to the garage. The cottage windows were open and the front door unlocked, but Rachel and the boy weren’t inside.

He carried the groceries into the kitchen and unloaded them in the refrigerator. When he turned around, he saw the boy standing just inside the back door. He’d entered so quietly that Gabe hadn’t heard him.

Gabe remembered the way Jamie had flown into their big old rambling North Georgia farmhouse, door slamming, sneakers banging, usually yelling at the top of his small lungs that he’d found a special earthworm or needed a broken toy repaired.

“Is your mother outside?”

The boy looked down at the floor.

“Please answer me, Edward,” Gabe said quietly.

“Yes,” the boy murmured.

“Yes, what?”

The boy’s shoulders stiffened. He didn’t lift his head.

The child definitely needed some toughening up, for his own sake. Gabe forced himself to speak quietly, patiently. “Look at me.”

Slowly, Edward lifted his head.

“When you talk to me, Edward, I want you to say, ‘Yes, sir’ or ‘No, sir.’ ‘Yes, ma’am’ and ‘No, ma’am’ when you talk to your mother or Kristy or any lady. You’re living in North Carolina now, and that’s the way polite children speak around here. Do you understand?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Edward . . .” Gabe’s tone carried a soft warning note.

“My name’s not Edward.”

“That’s what your mother calls you.”