Gabriel's Lady. Ana Seymour
will be waiting for us bright and early tomorrow.”
The two men left, leaving Amelia looking uneasily at Gabe. “I thank you for the supper, too,” she said softly. “And for everything else today. Especially for not telling my brother what a coil I’d gotten myself into.”
Gabe smiled gently. “It wasn’t so very much of a coil. As you say, you’re learning.”
He still stood without moving, his eyes intense and gleaming in the firelight.
Amelia smiled nervously. “Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?”
Gabe shook his head, then advanced slowly toward her. She could see the stubble of his beard, the flinch of a muscle along his straight jaw. When he was close enough to see tiny reflections of the flames in the blue of his eyes, he stopped. She swallowed.
“You said you had some business with me.” Her voice came out as a near whisper.
“Yes.”
He was not smiling now, and something in his expression made the breath stop dead in Amelia’s chest. He leaned closer. She closed her eyes and had a swift, unbidden memory of the moment in the stagecoach when his hard thighs had rubbed against her.
Her entire body swayed as she felt him brush against her. Then she opened her eyes in surprise as he bent to reach past her toward a crock on the floor next to the fire. He scooped up a handful of the contents and straightened up, facing her.
“Give me your hands,” he said.
Amelia was still trying to locate her last breath.
“Your hands,” he said again, seizing one of them. His fingers were covered with pork grease, which he started to gently smooth over her still-red palms. He spread it slowly in small circles. “It might not smell as pretty as that lemon soap you like to use, but it should help that burn heal.”
Amelia felt the light pressure of his fingertips all the way up her arms. She took a deep gulp of air, which seemed to steady her. “It was kind of you to think about it,” she said.
Now he smiled at her, which lightened the tension that had grown between them. But Amelia’s heart was still beating far too fast.
He finished with one hand and repeated his ministrations with the other. Then he stepped back and leaned over to grab a towel to wipe his fingers. “That should do it,” he said. “Now I will bid you good evening.”
He walked to the door, retrieved his hat and opened the door. “Thank you for a most enjoyable day, Miss Prescott,” he said with a little bow.
As he started to leave, Amelia called, “Gabe.” He turned back to her. “You may call me Amelia.”
He looked taken aback for a moment. Then he grinned, nodded and went out the door.
“So what’s put the bee in your bonnet, Gabe Hatch?” Mattie Smith and Gabe were in her office where Gabe was finishing up her monthly accounts. When she had given up the dance hall circuit and gone into business for herself, Mattie had insisted on two things. Her girls must keep themselves clean and healthy, and in return she promised to be scrupulously accurate in seeing that they got their fair share of the earnings. The latter had become easier when Gabe Hatch had come to town. Mattie had never much liked numbers herself.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mattie,” Gabe answered absently.
“Well, you snapped at Delia when she offered to take you upstairs for half the regular fee. Then you started entering the figures in last month’s account. And in the past five minutes you’ve added the same column of numbers six times by my count. So I figure there’s got to be something on your mind.”
Gabe frowned and threw his pen on the desk. Mattie sat across the desk from him, curled up in an overstuffed armchair that dwarfed her tiny frame. Except for her gray hair, she looked like a plump little child. “I guess I’m tired,” he said finally, pushing back his chair. “Maybe I should finish up on these later.”
“Maybe you should have taken Delia up on her offer,” Mattie suggested. “Best cure for ‘tiredness’ I know.”
Gabe smiled. “No, thanks.” He winked at her and added, “Your girls are lovely, Mattie, but I’m still waiting for you to break down and make me an offer yourself. Why should I settle for second best?”
Dimples appeared in Mattie’s soft cheeks, but she kept her voice stern. “Go on with you, Gabe. An old gal like me deserves some rest in her sunset years. I don’t need any more hassling by young bucks like you.”
“Sunset years,” Gabe scoffed. “Why, you’re barely reaching the noon hour, Mattie, love.”
The dimples deepened. “You’re full of malarkey, Gabriel Hatch. And what’s more, you’re trying to distract me by changing the subject. You still haven’t told me what’s wrong.”
“Yes, I did. I’m tired. It was late when I came back into town last night.”
Mattie leaned forward and demanded, “Came back from where?”
Gabe closed the book and stood. “From my partner’s place.”
Mattie’s gray eyes gleamed wickedly. “Sure, now. Would that be the partner whose sister just arrived in town? A sister with the face of an angel and hair like the mane of a prize bay mare? Is that the partner you mean?”
Gabe rolled his eyes. “Parker’s the only partner I have, Mattie, as you well know. As for his sister, well, yes…she’s quite lovely.”
Something in the tone of his voice made Mattie’s expression grow serious. “You aren’t getting yourself stuck on that fancy Eastern lady, are you, Gabe?” she asked, a line of worry creasing the skin between her eyes.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He started toward the door. “I’ll come back and finish these books tomorrow.”
Mattie jumped out of the chair and went to put a hand on his arm. “You’d be better off with Delia,” she said kindly. “Or any of my girls. Belle’s mighty sweet.”
Gabe patted her hand, then gently removed it from his arm. “I’m not interested, Mattie. At least, not today.”
Mattie shook her head. “You oughtn’t go messing with a lady like Miss Prescott. Why, they say her pappy’s a genuine New York City banker. He’s likely to send some of those Pinkerton boys to blow your head off.”
Gabe leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I don’t think the Pinkerton agents are for blowing people’s heads off, Mattie. But, at any rate, I have no intention of ‘messing’ with Miss Prescott. Or anyone else, for that matter. The only engagement I have planned is with a deck of cards.”
Amelia sat in the rocker doing her best to mend her brother’s tattered long underwear. She had decided to spend the day on a less strenuous activity after yesterday’s marathon laundry session. And she found herself enjoying the task. Her mother would undoubtedly have been horrified to see her stitching away on a man’s undergarment, even though it was her brother’s. Back home she had never stitched anything coarser than fine linen with silk embroidery thread.
Suddenly Parker burst through the cabin door with a whoop of triumph. He took two leaps to reach her side, then lifted her out of the chair and spun her around. “We’re getting closer, sis! Morgan’s a wonder. He followed a vein straight back into a crevice that I’d never even noticed before. And it looks like it’s rich with ore.”
Amelia couldn’t help being caught up in her brother’s enthusiasm. She laughed and reached to straighten her tumbled chignon. “It’s a fine millionaire you’ll be making, Parker Prescott,” she teased.
He set her down. “I came running to tell you,” he said, trying to catch his breath.
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