Gabriel snorted, completely unflustered. “No, I’m in charge, and my dad will have my hide and yours if I fuck around with the evidence.”
“So I have to sit here and look at this all night.” She pointed to the coffee table, silently thanking her lucky stars that Niki had had the grace to die outside. If the body was in the kitchen, under her roof, she’d be trekking down the mountain tonight, ice or no ice.
Gabriel got to his feet. She expected him to take her in his arms again, but he didn’t. He placed two steady hands on her shoulders and looked her directly in the eye. “I’m going upstairs to collect a sheet to cover the coffee table and a couple of blankets and pillows for us. You’re going to pick out some dry clothes and get dressed. Then I’m going to heat up some soup …”
“I’m not going back in that kitchen …” Lolly said forcefully.
“… and bring a couple of bowls in here,” he continued without pausing, “so we can get something hot into our bellies. We’ll save the breakfast bars for the trip down the mountain.”
“How can you be so calm?” she asked, annoyed and grateful and mad at herself because a part of her was still scared.
“What choice do I have?” he responded.
Lolly felt a wave of release wash through her. Naturally, he was right. If they both panicked they’d simply create yet another disaster, and God knows she’d had enough disaster for one night.
“I’ll get dressed,” she said in a more controlled voice. “You do what you have to do.”
Gabriel leaned in then, and did what he’d neglected to do earlier. He kissed her. This wasn’t a “let’s get busy” kiss, it was a reassuring, warm, very pleasant connection that served to remind her that she was not alone, and at the same time very effectively took her mind off the night’s horrors—for a few precious seconds.
She felt the kiss in her gut. Her earlier panic, which had fluttered inside her as if it were a physical thing trying to escape, faded.
She could do this. They could do this.
The kiss didn’t last long enough, but it did the trick. She laid her hand on Gabriel’s cheek, felt the rough stubble there. “All right,” she said softly. “I’m okay now.”
She turned to the fireplace and its welcome flame, listened as Gabriel rushed up the stairs.
Realistically, this adventure was far from over. The walk into town tomorrow would be dangerous and difficult. But it wasn’t tomorrow yet, and tonight she was safe, warm, and sheltered.
She felt a bit Scarlett O’Hara-ish. She’d deal with tomorrow when it arrived.
Chapter Thirteen
Gabriel leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. Chicken noodle soup out of a can had never tasted so good. The simple pleasure of not being out in the cold, of having a fire, of knowing he and Lolly were safe for the night—it was a fine feeling, one to be treasured even if just for a while.
The gas fireplace didn’t crackle like a wood-burning stove, but he didn’t have to worry about feeding it logs so that was a fair tradeoff. Lolly didn’t know exactly how much propane was left in the tank, but she did tell him it hadn’t been serviced for a while. She’d estimated that there would be enough for her stay, so they should be good for the night. A few hours more, that was all they needed.
“Tell me about your son.” Lolly leaned against him, as she had since finishing her soup. Her body was finally warm—and clothed. The shared body heat was kind of a cliché, he supposed, but it was nice. With a dead meth freak on the back porch and another in the woods, and an arduous walk ahead of them, nice was a good thing. He might as well enjoy it while he could.
“What do you want to know?”
“Does he look like you or like his mother? Is he into baseball or art or music? Is he loud or quiet?” Her head rested comfortably against his shoulder. “Is it hard for you, having him live so far away?” This last question was delivered with a hesitation in her voice, as if she wasn’t certain it was a question that should be asked.
Gabriel never minded talking about Sam. There were times when he’d realized that he’d said too much, that he was boring whoever was listening—though they were usually too polite to say so. Since she’d asked, he was glad to answer. “Sam looks like me, but he has Mariane’s eyes. He’s not big for his age but he’s not too small, either. He’s into baseball, definitely, and basketball. Believe it or not, he’s also a whiz at math. Well, a whiz for a seven-year-old. I’m not sure where he got that from, since math was not my best subject in school, and it drove Mariane nuts to have to balance the checkbook.” It was strange to talk about his late wife without the usual rush of grief. Strange, but right. “He’s definitely not quiet. Have you ever spent any significant time with a seven-year-old?”
“No,” she said softly.
“Well, they’re bundles of energy, and Sam is no exception. He’s either going full speed ahead or he’s asleep.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “And having him live so far away is more than hard, it’s torture.” He found himself explaining how Mariane’s parents had stepped up to help after her death, how his father-in-law had been transferred to Texas, and though he’d tried to find another job, one that would keep him and his wife near to their grandson, in the end he’d had no choice but to move. It was that or be unemployed. Gabriel told Lolly how he’d tried to make the single dad thing work, something he’d never really talked about before in any but the simplest way, not even with his own parents.