“Sip it. Slowly.”
She nodded, her eyes expressing heartfelt gratitude as she took a small sip, letting the cold liquid seep down her tight throat.
The look on his face was one of mingled concern and kindness. “Doing better?” Renee managed a nod.
His smile held relief—along with another emotion Renee couldn’t quite define. One that said she mattered to him.
Renee shook off the odd notion—he didn’t even know her, let alone
care
about her. Still, good thing he’d happened
along when he did. Just when she needed help. That was some coincidence.
No—she straightened—that was a miracle. Her very own miracle, complete with electric blue eyes. Of course, she’d never imagined a miracle would look quite that good in jeans and a blue shirt.
When a wry smile worked across his lips, Renee realized she was staring. Heat surged into her face as she forced herself to look away and took another sip of water.
Clearing her throat, she gave him a sideways glance, then tested her voice. “Thank you—” it was raspy, but it was there—“for your help.”
He leaned one arm on his knee and shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”
“But—”
He raised a hand to nudge the cup toward her lips. “No, I mean don’t talk. You need to give yourself time to recover—” his smile deepened a notch—“before you tell me how wonderful I am.”
If her cheeks had been warm before, they were downright nuclear now. Renee did as she was told, but she couldn’t deny the tiny just-this-side-of-elated thrill that skipped though her.
Because sitting there under that blue gaze, she had the oddest feeling that he was exactly that: wonderful. And more than that, she felt a certainty deep inside that she was going to get the chance to find out for herself.
And that she was going to enjoy every minute of it.
E
ARLY
A
PRIL
1979
“Come on, hon, you can do it.”
At Gabe’s encouragement, Renee nodded, then tipped her head back and gazed into a sky so blue it almost hurt her eyes. Days like this were so rare this time of year. Especially
this
year. She’d thought last winter was brutal, but it was nothing compared to this winter. The snow had started falling in late October and hadn’t stopped until just a few weeks ago.
She had known that midwestern winters were harsh—full of cold and ice and snow—but she’d had no idea that she’d be walking to classes through canyons of snow. Or that winter lasted for nearly half the year. For months now the drifts had towered over her, and the gray skies grew as oppressive as the windchill. That was something else Renee had to get used to. Growing up in the southern tip of the Pacific Northwest, she never heard of a windchill factor. In fact, she thought the weathermen were saying
“windshield
factor.” Finally curiosity got the better of her, and she asked her roomie, a native Illini, how one measured the temperature of a windshield.
She was still living that one down.
When March finally arrived, Renee had watched eagerly for the snow to start melting and the dormant, brown grass to start turning green again. It had taken several more weeks, though, for the first signs of spring. Renee had been sure they’d have snow for Easter, and they still could. The forecast was for snow to start Saturday night and continue through the week.
But today was Good Friday, and there wasn’t a snowflake in sight. In fact, the sun was bright and warm, and most of the snow had at long last melted away Renee could even see tiny buds shivering on the trees—a sure sign that spring was on its way.
Her eyes drifted shut, soaking in the warm caress of the sun on her face.
“Uh, hon? Rennie? You go to sleep on me?”
A light laugh escaped her at the teasing question, but before she could answer the world shifted beneath her, and she scrambled to find a handhold in the craggy wood of the tree she was climbing. “Hey!”
Her downward glance brought a warm grin at the rueful remorse on Gabe’s face. His broad hands rubbed at his shoulders, which had been her steady perch until he shrugged her off. “Sorry, Ren, but my shoulders were about to fall off with you just standing on them like that.”
“Hmpf! Are you saying I’m fat?”
The curve of his lips and the look in his blue eyes sent shivers spiraling through her. No man intending to be a minister had the right to look that deliciously wicked.
“Are you kidding? With your foot that close to my face? Of course not.” He reached up to pat the back of her leg. “You’re light as a feather, hon.”
“Hmm.” She turned back to the tree, scoping out her next move. She shifted, then stepped up onto a small branch. “And you’re full of beans.”
“Ah, but you like beans, don’t you?”
She wrapped her hands around a large branch above her, then pulled herself up and over, until she was perched on it, hanging on and gazing down at Gabe. He stood there, peering up at her, looking every inch the conquering Viking. His thick blond hair and tall, strong build bore testimony to the Norwegian blood coursing through his veins. And that smile … oh, that smile. It did amazing things to her.
“Come on up. If you can.”
“Ooo, a challenge.” His gaze caught hers and held it. “I love a challenge.”
With that he moved forward, studying the tree as though it were a foe to be brought into submission. Renee leaned one elbow on the wide branch beneath her, rested her chin in her hand, and watched as Gabe began his ascent.
She still couldn’t believe he was hers. The first time she’d seen him, she had been … well, impressed. A slow grin worked its way across her face.
Come on, be honest. You thought he
was a
hunk.
“Hi, beautiful. Hang out here often?”
Renee turned. Gabe had scaled the tree and was perched right behind her. She shifted into a sitting position and leaned forward until their faces were almost touching.
“Beautiful, eh?” She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “I like that.”
“Mmm—” Gabe’s hand came up to cradle her face—“me, too.”
His kiss was warm and heady. She closed her eyes, letting him fill her senses as completely as he was coming to fill her world.
Renee didn’t know if she moved wrong or if Gabe did, but suddenly they were slipping, and she gave a small yelp as they scrambled to regain their balance on the tree limb. They both sprawled, and when their eyes met, she burst into laughter.
Gabe’s smile was rueful. “Some Romeo I am. I almost knock you out of a tree.”
She giggled, and he nodded toward the grass beneath them.
“Meet you on firmer ground?”
“You got it.”
Gabe reached bottom first, and she looked down at him. The wind teased his hair as he turned that warm grin up at her. Wasn’t this love? The way her heart turned over every time their gazes met? When he held his hands out, she slid into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck. He leaned back against the tree, holding her securely, and she knew he wasn’t going to let her go. Not ever.
She belonged to him.
How had this happened? How was it possible to feel so much a part of someone in such a short time? She’d never known, never even imagined, it was possible to feel this way after only a month together.
And again, on the very heels of that happy thought, came the nagging inner voice, the one that seemed to intrude on her thoughts more and more.
Feel
what way?
How do you feel about him, really?
Gabe must have felt her stiffen, because he pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
She laid her hand on his bearded cheek. “Nothing. I just … had a chill.” How she hated the uncertainty swirling inside her! It seemed to have woven itself into the very fabric of her heart, her spirit. When it had first begun, she sought solace and encouragement from her friends. Unfortunately, they were no help whatsoever. Every time Renee turned around one of them was expressing one concern after another about Gabe.
A week ago, it was Sharon, from two doors down the hall, who pulled her aside and said her brother had seen Gabe at a bar. “And he wasn’t drinking soda, Renee.”
She dismissed the concern. So Gabe had a beer or two from time to time. The news didn’t thrill her, but it didn’t exactly make him Jack the Ripper, either. The man was going to be a minister, for heaven’s sake. Didn’t that say more about him than the fact that he’d visited some stupid bar?
Then, just a few days ago, Ian, one of her closest friends, came knocking on her door. She could tell he was troubled—he had the heavy, plodding walk of a man carrying a thousand burdens—and her heart sank. A dull ache inside warned her this would be about Gabe.
It was.
Renee sat in her desk chair and pressed her hands into her lap. Why did everyone feel they needed to warn her? To tell her terrible things about Gabe? Did they think she was stupid? That she was so blinded by being in love that she couldn’t see him as he really was?
It was all she could do not to tell Ian to take his so-called concern and stuff it.
But she didn’t. He was a good friend, and she knew it hadn’t been easy for him to come to her like this. So she sat there, listening as he told her he’d heard Gabe laying into a
student who had trashed a room for the second or third time. “I haven’t heard language like that in a long time, Renee. You know I’m no saint, but this was stuff even I wouldn’t say. I thought Gabe was going to take the guy apart right there.” Ian leaned back in his chair. “Are you sure Gabe is the kind of man you think he is?”
Renee wasn’t sure what irritated her more: Ian’s prying or the fact that his question only fed the turmoil that constantly plagued her.
She felt her cheeks warm and hated that fact. Hated that it could imply she thought Ian’s concern was valid. Even if she did, she didn’t want him knowing that. She lifted her chin and met his concerned gaze. “Gabe isn’t perfect. He’s got a problem with anger, but he knows it and is dealing with it.”
Ian’s brow creased at this news. “You’ve seen him like that?” Clearly, he didn’t like the thought. His next words confirmed the fact. “Has he ever treated
you
like that? I swear, Renee, if he has …”
Her stomach clenched. Oh great. Just what she needed, Ian squaring off with Gabe. She shook her head. “No, of course not. Gabe would never hurt me.”
It was the truth. Yes, Renee had seen Gabe’s anger a few times, had even heard the violence that poured from him when that anger was unleashed. But he’d never directed that kind of behavior or talk at her.
That didn’t lessen the force of it, though, did it?
She looked away, afraid Ian would be able to read that admission in her eyes. She reassured him, told him she and Gabe were working through the issues, praying for God’s help and guidance, and that everything was fine. Under control.
Relief settled over her as she closed the door behind him. She’d nearly lost it. If he’d stayed a moment longer, she wasn’t sure what she would have done. Screamed, maybe. Ranted a bit. Even struck out.
But it wasn’t Ian she wanted to hit. It was herself … her
doubts and fears. She had tried to surrender them to God. She asked Him to take them away. And yet here they were, brought to burning life yet again by Ian’s probing questions.
She leaned her forehead against the solid wood of the door. The first time she’d experienced the force of Gabe’s anger she was stunned. More than that, she was frightened. They’d been out for a drive, and in the middle of their conversation, his expression changed. Turned hard. Fierce.
Someone was tailgating them. Gabe hated tailgaters. Before Renee knew what was happening, Gabe stomped on the brakes, and she catapulted forward. If his arm hadn’t been draped across the front of her like a seat belt, she might well have gone into the windshield.
The car behind them screeched to a halt, barely avoiding a collision. And when the driver gunned the engine and passed Gabe’s car, he jumped into hot pursuit.
Renee had always loved Gabe’s strength, the way he made her feel protected and safe, the barely restrained power he exuded. People seemed to know this was a man you didn’t cross, and she liked that.
But now the very aspects she’d always loved about him seemed … out of control. Dangerous.
I’m in love with a crazy man.
Her terror must have shown, because when Gabe finally sent a glance her way, he started, and the red in his face changed to a pasty white. He slowed the car, pulled to the side of the road, and cut the engine. In the sudden silence Renee’s sobbing gasps seemed deafening. When he reached for her hand, she jerked away. The despair that painted his features at her action pierced her heart, and she put her hands over her face and wept in earnest.
This time, when his arms came around her, she didn’t resist. He spoke to her in the familiar, soothing tone she loved.
“I’m sorry …” The broken words were so sincere, so sorrowful,
that she could only nod as he repeated them, over and over “Ah, Renee, I’m so sorry.”
When she could finally speak, he had explained, for the first time, about his childhood. Talked about the abuse. About the hopelessness. And the anger. Shared how it had built within him, how it had become his armor against terror, against pain.
How it had kept him alive.
“It became my best friend. It even stopped my dad from beating me.”
Renee frowned. “How did it do that?”
“The last time he grabbed me, I lost it.” Gabe’s faraway expression told her he was reliving the scene. “I had finally gotten big enough, strong enough that I just turned on him and knocked him flat. He lay there, gawking up at me, and do you know what he said?”
“What?”
“At least I know I raised a man.’” Gabe’s laugh was harsh. “Like he had the first clue what it means to be a man.”
Renee had listened to his outpouring of memories, torn between horror and compassion. It sickened her that anyone could subject his own child to such mindless, senseless cruelty. It grieved her that anyone—least of all this man, whom she was growing to love—had to bear such terrible emotional scars.
And it terrified her.