Dream a Little Dream (Chicago Stars, #4)(195)

“I’d like to speak with your mother,” she said quickly.

He grabbed the cigarette the red-haired boy on his right had just lit, took a drag, and handed it back. “She’s not here.”

Rachel shuddered at the thought of Edward turning out like this. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

He shrugged, already bummed out on a life that had barely begun. “My mom don’t tell me shit.”

“Watch your mouth,” Gabe said in a low, almost toneless voice that sent a shiver up Rachel’s spine. Although he didn’t do anything overtly threatening, he seemed to loom over the surly teenagers, and the Dennis boy began to study one of the petunia pots.

His red-haired friend, the one he’d taken the cigarette from, shifted nervously. “My mom and her are workin’ at the pig roast today.”

Gabe’s lips barely moved. “You don’t say.”

The redhead’s knobby Adam’s apple wobbled in his throat. “We’re goin’ down there later. Do you want us to give her a message or something?”

Rachel decided to intercede before the poor kid swallowed his cigarette. “We’ll find her. Thanks.”

“Punks,” Gabe said as they returned to the truck. The moment they were settled inside, he turned to her. “You are not going to that pig roast.”

“You know, Bonner, finding this Bible is tough enough without having to drag you along every step of the way.”


“The minute people set eyes on you, they’re going to truss you up and stick you on the spit, right along with the pig.”

“If you’re going to be a wimp about it, you can just drop me off there. I’ll get a ride home with Kristy.”

He threw the truck into gear with a quick, irritated motion and backed out into the street. “We had that cottage all to ourselves this afternoon. Just the two of us. But are we taking advantage of it? Hell no.”

“Stop acting like a horny teenager.”

“I feel like a horny teenager.”

“Yeah?” She smiled. “Me, too.”

He stopped the truck in the middle of the street, leaned across the seat, and kissed her, a faint brush of the lips, sweet and fleeting. Ribbons of sensation unfurled inside her.

“Sure you don’t want to change your mind about that pig roast?” He propped his elbow on the back of the seat and regarded her with an expression that was so mischievous it made her laugh.

“I definitely want to change my mind, but I’m not going to. Just one more stop, Gabe. I’ll talk to Carol Dennis, and then we’ll go back to the cottage.”

“Why do I think it’s not going to be that easy?” With an expression of resignation, he pointed the truck toward town.

The pig roast was being held in the athletic field attached to Memorial Park, the town’s largest public space. The park itself contained green metal benches and neatly laid-out flower beds that bloomed with impatiens and marigolds. Beyond it, the athletic field baked in the midday sun with the only shade coming from the tents and canopies erected by the county’s civic organizations, which used the annual pig roast to raise funds. The smell of charcoal and roasted meat permeated the air.

Almost immediately, Rachel spotted Ethan and Edward standing near a small pavilion where a bluegrass band played. Edward nibbled a cloud of pink cotton candy without taking his eyes from the musicians, but Ethan kept glancing toward a food tent about twenty feet away. Rachel followed his eyes and spotted Kristy listening to a sandy-haired man who seemed to be doing his best to impress her.

Ethan scowled. With his blond hair glimmering in the sun, he reminded Rachel of a morose young god. It served him right, she thought, for being so shallow.

As she and Gabe moved closer, she felt the stares of the people around her. Only the Florida retirees seemed oblivious to the fact that the notorious Widow Snopes had joined their ranks.

Edward turned toward her, just as if she were wearing a maternal homing device. “Mommy!”

He ran forward, sneakers flying, cotton candy dangling from one hand, Horse from the other. His sticky mouth turned up in a wide smile. He looked so happy, so healthy. Her eyes stung.

Thank you, God.

The prayer had been automatic, but she pushed it away as Edward charged into her legs. There was no God.

“Pastor Ethan buyed me cotton candy!” Edward exclaimed, his attention focused so completely on her that he hadn’t spotted Gabe, who was standing a few feet behind. “And Kristy got me a hot dog ’cause I almost cried when I saw the pig.” His face fell. “I couldn’t help it, Mommy. It’s dead, and it had eyeball holes, and . . . They killed it and cooked it over the fire.”

Another small loss of innocence on the path to adulthood. She wiped a ketchup smear from his cheek with her thumb. “That’s why they call it a pig roast, partner.”

He shook his head. “I won’t ever eat a pig again.”

She decided not to mention the probable contents of his hot dog.

“Kristy bought me a balloon, and it was red, but it broke, and—” Edward caught sight of Gabe and fell silent. She watched him draw Horse against his chest with the rabbit’s hindquarters tucked under his chin. His withdrawal was almost palpable, and she remembered the ugly scene on the porch with the snake. Sometimes she thought she understood Gabe, but his callous behavior this morning had proven how little she knew him.