Reckless Night in Rio. Jennie Lucas
if he.
He turned away, and she exhaled.
“So this is Becky’s wedding reception?” He glanced around the room with something like disapproval on his face.
Laura thought their home looked nice, even romantic for a country-style winter wedding. They’d scrubbed it scrupulously clean, tidied away all the usual clutter, and decorated their hearts out. But as she followed his gaze, she suddenly saw how shabby it all was.
Laura had been proud of how much she’d been able to accomplish for her sister on almost no budget. Flowers had been too expensive because of Valentine’s Day, so Laura had gone to the nearest craft store and cut out large hearts of red tissue paper, festooning them on their walls with red and pink balloons and streamers. She’d decorated the house in the middle of the night, as she’d waited for the cake to cool. For the reception dinner, their mother had made her famous roast chickens and their friends and neighbors had brought casseroles and salads for a buffet-style potluck. Laura had made her sister’s wedding cake herself, using instructions from an old 1930s family cookbook.
She’d been tired but so happy when she’d fallen into bed at dawn. But now, beneath Gabriel’s eyes, the decorations no longer seemed beautiful. She saw how flimsy it all was, how shabby a send-off for her second-youngest sister. Becky had seemed delighted when she saw the decorations and slightly tilted wedding cake that morning. But what else could she have done, knowing how hard her family had tried to give her a nice wedding when there was never a dime to spare?
As if he could read her mind, Gabriel looked at her. “Do you need money, Laura?”
Laura’s cheeks went hot. “No,” she lied. “We’re fine.”
He looked around the room again, at the paper plates with the potluck dinner, at her homemade gown, clearly not believing her. He set his jaw. “I’m just surprised your father couldn’t do better for Becky. Even if money is tight.”
Laura folded her arms, feeling ice in her heart. “He couldn’t,” she whispered. “My father died four months ago.”
She heard Gabriel’s intake of breath. “What?”
“He had a heart attack during harvest. We didn’t find him on his tractor until later. When he didn’t come home for dinner.”
“Oh, Laura.” Gabriel took her hand in his own. “I’m sorry.”
She felt his sympathy, felt his concern. And she felt the rough warmth of his palm against her own—the touch she’d craved for the past year and all the five years before. Her fingers curled over his as longing blistered her soul.
With an intake of breath she ripped her hand away.
“Thank you,” she said, blinking back tears. She’d thought she was done grieving for her father, but she’d spent most of the day with a lump in her throat, watching her uncle walk Becky down the aisle, seeing her mother alone in the pew with tears streaking her powdered face. Laura’s father should have been here. “It’s been a long winter. Everything fell apart without him. We’re just a small farm and always run so lean, one year to the next. With my dad gone, the bank tried to refuse to extend the loan or give us anything more for spring planting.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
She lifted her chin. “We’re fine now.” Although they were just surviving on fumes, trying to hold on another week until they’d get the next loan. Then they’d pray next year would be better. She folded her arms. “Becky’s husband, Tom, will live at the house and farm the land now. Mom will be able to stay in her home and be well looked after.”
“And you?” Gabriel asked quietly.
Laura pressed her lips together. Starting tonight, she and Robby were moving into her mother’s bedroom. The three-bedroom farmhouse was now full, since Laura and her baby could no longer share a bedroom with Becky, and her other sisters, Hattie and Margaret, shared the other. Ruth had loyally said she’d be delighted to share her large master bedroom with her grandson, but Ruth was a very light sleeper. It was not an ideal situation.
Laura needed a job, an apartment of her own. She was the oldest daughter—twenty-seven years old. She should be helping her family, not the other way around. She’d been looking for a job for months, but there were none to be had. Not even at a fraction of the salary she’d earned when she worked for Gabriel.
But there was no way she was going to tell him that. “You still haven’t explained what you’re doing here. You obviously didn’t know about the wedding. Do you have some kind of business deal? Is it the old Talfax mine that’s for sale?”
He shook his head. “I’m still trying to close the Açoazul deal in Brazil.” His jaw tightened. “I came because I had no choice.”
Over the noisy conversation nearby, Laura heard a guitar and flute play the opening notes of an old English folk song from somewhere in the house. She heard a baby’s bright laugh over the music and a chilling fear whipped through her. “What do you mean?”
His dark eyes narrowed. “Can’t you guess?”
Laura sucked in her breath. All her worst nightmares were about to come true.
Gabriel had come for her baby.
After all the times he’d said he never wanted a child, after everything he’d done to make sure he’d never be burdened with one, somehow he’d found out Laura’s deepest secret and he’d come to take Robby. And he wouldn’t even take their son out of love, oh no. He’d do it out of duty. Cold, resentful duty.
“I don’t want you here, Gabriel,” Laura whispered, trembling. “I want you to leave.”
He set his jaw grimly. “I can’t.”
Ice water flooded her veins as she stood near the fireplace in the warm parlor. “What brought you? Was it some rumor—or…” She licked her lips and suddenly could no longer bear the strain. “For God’s sake. Stop toying with me and tell me what you want!”
His dark eyes looked down at her, searing straight through her soul.
“You, Laura,” he said in a low voice. “I came for you.”
CHAPTER TWO
I CAME for you.
Stricken, Laura stared up at him with her lips parted.
Gabriel’s dark eyes were hot and deep with need. Exactly as he’d looked at her the night he’d taken her virginity. The night she’d conceived their child.
I came for you.
How many times had she dreamed of Gabriel finding her and speaking those words?
She’d missed him constantly over the last fifteen months, as she’d given birth to their baby alone, woken up in the night alone and raised their child without a father. She’d yearned for his strong, protective arms constantly. Especially during the bad times, such as the moment she’d told her family she was pregnant. Or the day of her father’s funeral, when her mother and three younger sisters had clung to her, sobbing, expecting her to be the strong one. Or the endless frustrating weeks when Laura had gone to the bank with her baby in tow, day after day, to convince them to extend the loan that would let their farm continue to operate.
But there had been happy times as well, and then she’d missed Gabriel even more. Such as the day halfway into her pregnancy, when she’d been washing dishes in the tiny kitchen and she’d suddenly clutched her curved belly and laughed aloud in wonder as she felt—this time for sure—their baby’s first kick inside her. Or the sunny, bright August day when Robby had been born, when she’d held his tiny body against her chest and he’d blinked up at her, yawning sleepily, with dark eyes exactly like his father’s.
For over a year, Laura had missed Gabriel like water or sun or air. She’d craved him day and night. She’d