April's Promise (Forever Love Series) (10 page)

He
surprised her Thursday morning when he said, "I'll take Stephie to
preschool today.  After I drop her off, I think you and I should talk.  Will
you take a walk around the reservoir with me?"

"Sure,"
came out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Autumn
was in its high glory as they drove to the reservoir.  Although many leaves had
fallen, many still clung to the trees in golds, russets and reds.  With the
approach of Halloween the following week, November cold would soon replace the
cool, crisp air.

They
drove in silence to the outskirts of Cedar Corners and the reservoir with its
path surrounding it.  Gabe parked and they climbed out of the SUV, still in
silence.

She had
to break it.  "Do you come out here often?"

"Mostly
in summer in the evenings, if I have a sitter.  Walking out here helps me work
off...everything."

By
"everything" April guessed he meant the overwhelming grief after
Vanessa died.  Was that grief still holding him in its grip?  Maybe Nicholas
was right and all they needed was time.  Did Gabe really want to emulate Nicholas'
lifestyle?  That would be hard with a daughter.

As Gabe
walked beside April along the path, the sun was warm on her shoulders.  The
only sound was the call of birds.

Gabe
suddenly said, "You seem to enjoy watching Stephie.  Do you?"

"I
love taking care of her.  I see the world differently when I'm with her."

He
glanced at her and then straight ahead.  "I think Vanessa went back to
work because she couldn't stand being with a child all day.  Even on weekends,
she coaxed me to go out with her at least one night.  But it was sort of a
tug-of-war because I just liked being at home with my daughter."

What
was Gabe trying to tell her?  That Vanessa wasn't always the doting mother? 
"Tell me something, Gabe.  Do you think Vanessa should have stayed home
with Stephie instead of returning to work?"

After
looking pensive for a moment, he kept walking.  "I think that the ideal
situation is for a mother to stay home with her child, especially the first few
years.  But I also understand that some women don't think that's enough.  They
want the stimulation of the working world.  Vanessa was like that."

April
decided to tell Gabe what she thought.  "I think, if I ever had children,
I'd
want
to stay home with them."

April's
words hung in the cool, crisp air, and Gabe focused his attention on her, not averting
his gaze for a long time.  But finally he did.  His gray-and-blue wool shirt
jacket emphasized the broadness of his shoulders and the length of his long
arms.  She remembered being held in those arms, and longed to feel his embrace
again.

They
stood by the reservoir for a few moments in silence, watching the water bubble
quietly by.

"I
owe you an apology," Gabe said.

When
April looked up at him, her heart beat faster.  "For what?"

"For
what I said to you Saturday night.  For making you feel as if you were an
experiment.  When I kissed you, April, I wanted to kiss you—both times—just
like I want to kiss you now."

It was
time to take a risk and reach for what she wanted.  "What's stopping
you?" April asked softly, holding her breath.

"At
this moment, nothing," Gabe replied as he clasped her shoulders and drew
her gently toward him.

As he
bent his head to her, the cool air seemed to evaporate.  All she could feel was
the heat of him, the longing to be closer, the need to have his lips on hers. 
His lips were warm on hers, firm, seductive.  Then he slanted his mouth over
hers and coaxed her lips apart.  She didn't need much coaxing.  When he thrust
inside, he pressed her to him.  Their jackets were impediments, and needing to
touch him, she reached up and laced her fingers in his hair.  When he groaned,
a quiver ran through her, and the deepest center of her yearned for a physical
joining.  Melting into him, her hips met his, and a primal energy seemed to
pull them tighter together.  Gabe's hands slid down her back to cup her bottom,
and she could feel his arousal, hard and hot, against her softness.  The hungry
thrusts of his tongue aroused passion that she'd ignored and denied and feared.

She
loved Gabe's scent.  She loved the calluses on his hands.  She loved the way
she felt when she was with him—safe and protected, yet excited.  She responded
to him by stroking over his tongue and pushing into his mouth, taking passion
as well as giving it, letting him know this kiss was everything she wanted,
too.

But her
fervent response apparently didn't show Gabe how much she wanted him because he
broke the kiss and stared down at her, his green eyes turbulent.  "What
are we doing, April?"

She
tried to steady her breathing and her pulse.  "I think that's
obvious."

"Vanessa's
only been gone less than a year.  You're flying back to Boston in a few weeks.  In
spite of what I said the other night, I could never emulate Nicholas'
lifestyle.  I'm not the type of man to have affairs.  But maybe you're the type
of woman who wants them.  Are you?"

The
turmoil inside Gabe was obvious from his expression, and she didn't know if he
was lashing out because he felt guilty for taking pleasure from a woman other
than his wife or because she had hurt him in the past and he didn't want to be
hurt again.  She couldn't blame him from wanting to stay away from her, for not
wanting to feel the attraction between them.  If she told him everything she
was feeling in her heart, he might not believe her.  If she told him about Stephie—

Stephie
anchored Gabe's world.  That was obvious.  April couldn't divulge what she knew
in an emotional moment or a passionate one or because she wanted Gabe to think
less of Vanessa.  Their situation was so tangled, she wasn't sure she could
ever unravel it.  But she was sure that this wasn't the time or the place, and
she should pull her dignity around her however she could in order to keep
living in Gabe's house.

"Do
you want me to leave, Gabe?"

He
raked his hand through his hair, and he seemed to be debating with himself. 
"Stephie needs you, and you certainly made life easier for me lately.  But
as I told you before, I don't want to take advantage of you, April, not in any
way.  So the choice is yours."

"I
like taking care of Stephie.  I told you that.  Do you have any leads for
nannies?"

Nodding,
he said, "Two.  I'm going to call them tomorrow morning."

"All
right.  After you decide whether they're suitable or not, then we'll go from
there."

"April,
I didn't plan to bring you here today and—"

"I
know you didn't."  This attraction between them just seemed to have a life
of its own, and it flared up when they least expected it.  She'd just have to
be more careful until she was ready to tell Gabe everything—the truth about how
she felt about him as well as the truth about Stephie.

****

Chapter
Six

On
Sunday, Gabe washed and waxed the cars while April sat in the living room by
the smoldering fire reading the paper.  Stephie was taking a nap, and she'd
offered to help him.  But he'd shaken his head and told her to take some time
for herself for a change.  She'd caught him looking at her throughout the day
as if he was trying to figure her out.

When
the phone rang, she put the paper aside and reached for it.

"April,
it's your mother."

"Mother,
how are you?"

"I'm
just fine.  I'm going to come to Cedar Corners for a visit before winter sets
in.  Clarice Barlow asked me to come stay with her for a while."

Clarice
was one of her mother's friends from the garden club.  A widow, she spent most
of her time traveling or heading up the social events in Cedar Corners. 
"Why stay with Mrs. Barlow?  You could come here."

"Oh,
I don't want to crowd you and Gabe.  Besides, I think Clarice is lonely. 
That's why she travels as much as she does.  And I've missed her since I moved
to Cocoa Beach.  She and I will have a good time visiting.  But I want to spend
time with you and Stephie, too."

"When
are you arriving?"

"Tomorrow
afternoon."

"I'll
pick you up at the airport."

"You
don't have to do that.  I'm going to rent a car.  I'll get settled in with Clarice,
then maybe I can come over in the evening."

"Come
for supper."

"You're
sure that won't be too much bother?"

"Mother,
it's no bother cooking for one more person."

"So
Gabe hasn't found anyone to keep house and take care of Stephie?"

"Not
yet.  But I'm enjoying it."

"I
imagined you would," Winnifred said, surprising April.

"What
do you mean, Mother?"

"Oh,
nothing.  Vanessa was more like me.  She preferred having a cook and a maid,
but you—you like doing for others."  Before April could question her
mother further, Winnifred said, "So I'll give you a call after I get in
tomorrow."

When
April hung up the phone, she thought about what her mother had said.  She
didn't know if she enjoyed doing for others, but she certainly enjoyed taking
care of Gabe and Stephie.  But that was because she loved them.

Would
her mother understand April's feelings towards Gabe?  Could she confide
Vanessa's secret in Winnifred?  No.  She couldn't confide what she knew to
anyone.

April
had to tell Gabe.  But the time had to be right, and it wasn't yet.  She would
tell him soon.

****

April
handed her mom an apron with a high bib top.    "You'd better put this
on."

April
and her mother had never been what some people would term close, and there were
many reasons for that.  But since her sister had died, they seemed to
understand each other a little better, could talk a little more, saw each day
as a gift that had to be taken advantage of.  Yet her mother was still her
mother, always dressed beautifully and perfectly, as if she were stepping out
to a very important occasion, even if she was just making supper with April,
and Stephie, and Gabe.  Well, Gabe wouldn't be making supper, but hopefully he
would be enjoying it with them.  Right now her mother's sunny yellow blouse and
slacks could easily be marred by a splash of chicken broth, a swipe of flour,
or Stephie's sticky hand as she helped make dumplings.

"You
worry too much," Winnifred said.  "I can always send it to the dry
cleaners."  But she swept the apron over her head and then tied the skirt
at the waist.

"There's
Daddy," Stephie said, pointing out the window as she saw her father
carrying bush trimmings to the side of the garage.  "I want to go with
him."

"Instead
of cooking with us?" Winnifred asked with a smile.

Stephie
eagerly bobbed her head up and down. 

"You
can go out with your dad," Winnifred said, "but you have to wash your
hands first.  Come here, I'll help."  Winnifred bent to Stephie and lifted
her up, sitting her on the counter.  Then she turned on the spigot, grabbed a
few paper towels, and helped her granddaughter wash her hands under the spigot,
afterward drying them for her.

After she
set Stephie on the floor, she took the little girl's jacket from the peg on the
wall, and helped her into it.  Then she went to the door and called to Gabe. 
"Stephie wants to come out with you.  Is that okay?"

He
looked at the pile of trimmings, then back at the other bushes that he hadn't
done yet.  "Sure, send her out.  We'll play hide and seek and have a game
of tag."

As soon
as Winnifred opened the door, Stephie ran outside and over to her dad's arms.

Winnifred
stood at the storm door.  "She adores him."

April
studied her mother carefully.  Did she have any inkling of what Vanessa had
done?  Or what she'd confided?

"And
Gabe loves her."

Should
she tell her mother about Vanessa?  Ask her opinion on what to do?

No,
April had already made up her mind what she had to do.  She just didn't know
when she was going to do it.  Telling Gabe the truth was probably the hardest
conversation they'd ever have.

"Can
I ask you a question without you getting all upset?" April wanted to know.

"I
suppose that depends on the question.  I'll tell you up front if you think it's
going to upset me, it probably will."

Her
mother was right about that.  "Why did you ignore Dad's affairs?"

As a
teenager when her parents split, April had heard and seen things that made her
understand what kind of marriage her parents had.  The same had been true for
Vanessa.  They'd both known their dad had come home too late to be out at a
business meeting.  They both had smelled perfume other than what their mother
wore when they hugged him.  They'd both been aware that although their mom had
a closet full of the prettiest clothes, the latest trends in shoes, the
snazziest car, underneath it all, she hadn't been happy.