Dana. And Rafe.
Ben reached down and grabbed something from the tall grass before walking away without another word.
Gabe stared after the man, the sense of lost opportunities and lost hope slowly crowded out as he realized what was in his father’s hand.
Dammit. The cardboard box from the kitchen.
Rage exploded like a long-set mine. He pictured the expression on his ma’s face, on Allison’s, as they’d cooed over the tiny kittens.
It might have made no sense, but his limbs were already moving. He threw his hat to the side and raced to the end of the dugout. The water was murky with springtime runoff, but the ditch wasn’t that wide. He stepped forward and leaned over, hands reaching for the bottom. Hoping that whatever Ben had used could be found quickly.
He ended up with his head under the dirty water, hands grasping at weeds and rotting straw that had blown and settled in the waterhole. He rose and sucked in a breath, diving again and moving farther toward the middle. He was nearly out of air when his fingers caught on the edge of a rough sack.
Feet to the bottom to propel himself upward, Gabe pulled the burlap free, lifting it over his head. He scrambled one-handed up the narrow embankment, mud coating his clothes. The chill of the water not even registering as his anger burned.
Yes, at times the farm cats got out of control, but they didn’t have too many right now. No need to go and drown the little things.
His fingers felt like wooden sticks as he tore at the knot. A heavy rock pinned the sack to the ground, motionless lumps lying next to it.
A beam of sunshine hit the ground to his left, spotlighting the sad little creatures he pulled one at a time from the open bag. Motionless, their soft fur matted and clumped to their lifeless bodies. Gabe fought the tears that a grown man shouldn’t shed, but damn it all, this was part and parcel of how fucked up his life had become.
He wasn’t dead, but at times it seemed being dead would be easier. And it was his father who had tied the sack tight and thrown him in.
Regret at having been too late tore through him, and he growled in frustration. Tiny bodies lay in accusation that what he had done was too late and too little.
That it would always be too late and too little.
Gabe jammed on his hat and sat back on his heels. Soaking wet, mud covered from head to toe. Staring down, his heart breaking over a bunch of useless, insignificant kittens.
The urge to give up was so damn strong right then. To become bitter and cold like his father would be preferable to the pain eating him inside.
He moved the kittens back to the sack to carry them to be buried somewhere. One after another he lay them gently next to each other, swear words filling his mind along with the frustration and confusion.
One twitched.
He paused, lifting the soggy black body and placing it carefully in his palm. He gently rubbed up the creature’s chest and neck, like he would a newborn lamb to remove the mucus after it was born. He didn’t dare let the flicker of hope inside grow too fast.
It was like watching a candle on a gusty windowsill quivering to stay lit. The kitten’s chest moved again, and when its tiny mouth opened in a pitiful meow, Gabe bit his lip to stop from shouting out loud.
He tucked the little thing inside his shirt against his body, close enough that even with him soaking wet there was heat. It cuddled in and planted its paws on his skin, needle-sharp claws popping out to poke him, and he didn’t give a shit that he was being used as a pincushion.
It was a hell of a lot harder to one-handed finish the grisly task of caring for the kittens who hadn’t made it, but he was too grateful and too spent to care how long it took or how awkward it was. The tiny creature nestled against his ribs was like a miniature spot of hope.
Fuck his father. The man had told him again and again he was worthless. Why Gabe continued to try had always been for his own reasons. For his ma and brother. For his own soul—to keep alive the good things he knew about himself in spite of whatever Ben said.
He wouldn’t let the bitterness Ben kept dumping on him leach into his soul anymore.
There with the sunshine coming down like in some great cathedral, Gabe had his own revelation. He was done fighting Ben’s way. He was going to win this damn war between them, and he was going to use his own methods to get there.
And heaven help Ben if he wasn’t able to accept that.
Allison wasn’t exactly fussing—it was a teenager joining them for dinner for Pete’s sake. But she knew that of all the people who might see through what she and Gabe were doing, his kid brother was the most likely.
So she’d made sure she stopped working at the restaurant with enough time to get back to Gabe’s cabin to double-check things before Rafe arrived.
Kissing her mom goodbye for the night and seeing her bright smile was encouraging and lightened Allison’s spirits. So far Maisey seemed to be healthy enough. There were no signs of the disease sweeping through her body, but the expected deterioration could begin at anytime, and Allison snatched up every good moment for all she was worth.
There wasn’t much to do to get ready once she did get home—and wasn’t that a strange way to start thinking of Gabe’s place? It was a safe spot, though, after not even a week.
She finished setting the table then suddenly realized something.
She slipped into her bedroom and nabbed her things. It was a little weird to waltz into Gabe’s room and deliberately put her clothes there. It wasn’t as if she had to shove her nightclothes under the pillow, but her robe hung on the hook next to the bathroom, and she dropped her makeup kit on the dresser top.
She had to grab her pillow from the spare room and place it at the head of the bed, and this unexpected sensation snuck over her.
Kissing him the other day wasn’t something she should be remembering in such minute detail. The firmness of his lips, the pressure of his hands on her hips.
They were getting along fine, and she had been mean to tease him so hard. And mean to tease herself because with things working out with Mom, at least temporarily, there was a whole bunch too much time to think about how hot and achy Gabe made her.
She lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. After their talk the other day, she felt she could offer the Coleman ranch advice. That alone made it easier to keep going. The ploy wasn’t her taking from him selfishly, she would contribute.
She closed her eyes for a moment to relax until either of the guys arrived.
“Allison.”
Gabe’s shout brought her to her feet with a start. No way did she want to be caught sprawled in his bed. “In the back,” she called.
“I need help.” His voice was terse, the words clipped.
She raced from the bedroom and met him at the front door.
“Gabe, what happened?” He was soaked and filthy, from his boots on up.
“I’ll explain later. Here, help me. Take the little thing.”
He opened his shirt, one hand on the outside of the fabric cradling something. She leaned in closer and slipped her fingers along his abdomen, catching hold of a small warmish bundle of fur.
“Why…never mind, I’ve got it.” She pulled out a tiny kitten, and it meowed plaintively. “You need help with your boots?”
“There’s a bootjack outside. Go grab some towels to wrap that thing in. I’m going to make a mess across the floor in a minute.”
She was already on the way to the kitchen. “Strip outside and leave your stuff there if you want.”
She snatched a towel out of the drawer and gently deposited the kitten in it, wrapping the warm cloth tightly. Gabe’s earlier solution sprang to mind, and she headed into the bedroom to nab an old hoodie. She pulled it on and tightened the bottom tie strap, creating a snug basket. She slipped the kitten under the layers and petted it carefully. Her fingers met mud and bits of straw, and she pulled them aside, all the time caressing the little thing as it shook.