Stranger in Town (Dundee, Idaho #5)(5)
Author: Brenda Novak

In the space of a heartbeat, she’d changed everything. The new Gabe hid a world of hurt behind his blue eyes, kept to himself and rarely ventured into public. But he was still strikingly handsome. Besides eyes that seemed deeper than the ocean, he had wavy black hair, a lean, chiseled face and a rock-hard body. “The guy I know wouldn’t hold what I did against you.”

“How can he help it?” Kenny asked. “He can’t even walk because of you.” Drawing up his knees, he rested his chin on his arms. “Did you ever apologize to him?”

“Of course.”

“Did he accept it?”

“I think so,” she said, but she couldn’t be too confident about that, either. The face Gabe showed the world these days, if he showed himself at all, seemed like some sort of mask. She didn’t know what was going on underneath it. When she tried to tell him how sorry she was, he either acted as though he wasn’t interested enough to listen. Or he gave her a gorgeous smile and told her it was fate.

His generous attitude only made her feel worse. As late as a few months ago, after they’d bumped into each other at Finley’s Grocery on one of his rare appearances in town, he’d even sent her a brief note telling her to stop apologizing, that there wasn’t any need to think of him again.

She didn’t want to think of him. But guilt made that impossible. Besides, they lived in too small a town for her to avoid mention of him. She was quite aware that she was now better known for ruining the career and the life of Dundee’s only hero than she was for her photography.

“I don’t think Coach Blaine’s any happier than I am about Gabe taking over as head coach,” Kenny said.

“Why not?”

“He thought he was getting the job.”

“Did he say something about it at practice today?”

“Nothing to the whole team. But his face went red when Mike Hill showed up to make the announcement. And I heard him mumble to Coach Owens that if they think a crippled, washed-up football player can coach better than he can, they’ve got another think coming.”

Hannah pressed a hand to her chest. “He called Gabe a crippled, washed-up football player?”

“Yeah.”

A hard knot lodged in Hannah’s stomach. She’d already done enough to make Gabe’s life miserable. She didn’t want her son involved in the drama at the high school. “Kenny?”

He was still wearing a sullen expression when he glanced up at her.

“You give Coach Holbrook everything you’ve got, you hear me? You play hard. You do what he says. And you don’t complain.”

“What if he benches me because I’m related to you?”

“Regardless.”

“But Mom—”

“He’s head coach, Kenny. He should have your loyalty, your respect and your support.”

“What about Coach Blaine?”

“What about him? You never liked him much before now.”

“He’s okay to certain players.”

“He has his favorites, and he has his scapegoats. Just because you might have become one of his favorites doesn’t mean I like his methods. Stay away from him as much as possible,” she said, but as her son stood to leave, she had no idea whether or not he’d listen to her. Especially considering that Russ had lost his starting position to Gabe in high school and was likely to give Kenny conflicting advice.

CHAPTER TWO

BECAUSE GABE HAD BECOME such a recluse, Hannah had imagined his remote cabin as the stereotypical small shack with an overgrown yard, barrels filled with drinking water off to the side and a collection of beer bottles or hubcaps cluttering the front porch. What she saw as she parked behind his truck was a rather large, honey-colored two-story cabin with a neatly tended yard. Ivy climbed the stone chimney, a hammock swung gently in the breeze, and the porch didn’t have a single beer bottle or hubcap—it had unusual, attractive furniture made of tree branches.

The scent of rich earth and pine filled her nostrils as she got out of her car. Although it would be plenty warm later in the day, it was still chilly in the mountains, and she could see smoke streaming from Gabe’s chimney.

Obviously, he was home—but she’d expected him to be. Football practice wasn’t for another two hours.

Fidgeting nervously with her keys, she finally shoved them into her purse as she approached the house. After his note telling her not to apologize anymore, Hannah knew Gabe would rather she leave him alone. In fact, he’d made it pretty clear he wanted everyone to leave him alone. But now that he’d decided to coach the Dundee High varsity football team, Hannah needed to talk to him.

A classic rock station played inside the house, so she knocked loudly to compensate. Gabe’s dog, Lazarus, whom most people had met—Gabe never left the cabin without him—started barking, but Gabe didn’t appear.

Was he working on something in back? She’d heard he built furniture. Now that she’d seen the chairs on his porch, she knew he was no amateur. Perhaps he’d sell her one. She could take some great photographs of children seated in a chair like that, holding a bunny or a dog….

She knocked again.

Nothing, except more barking from Lazarus.

There was a wooden gate on the side of the house. She walked around and, calling to announce her presence, let herself into the backyard, where she found a deeper porch with more eclectic patio furniture. A set of wind chimes rang as she followed a concrete path that weaved through a spectacular garden toward a large workshop, the door of which stood open.

“Gabe?” When she stuck her head inside, she couldn’t see him, but she saw lots of other interesting things. There was a carved mahogany armoire that still needed to be stained, a metal dinosaur that looked as if it belonged in a garden as elegant as his, a grandfather clock, several other clocks and parts of clocks, a sea chest, and three rocking chairs in different sizes.

Hannah doubted she’d ever seen more beautiful work. The hand-carved rocking chairs were fabulous. They reminded her of her favorite childhood story, The Three Bears. Just as she decided to try one out, she heard Gabe’s voice at the door.

“Is there something I can do for you, Hannah?”

Someone’s been sitting in my chair…. She jumped up as he rolled across the threshold—and fought the urge to dash around him and run off. He was wearing jeans and a white golf shirt that showed off the depth of his tan and made her suspect he did a lot of his sanding and staining outdoors without a shirt. And his hair was wet.