Gabriel's Lady

“We’ve used all the rainwater.”

Gabe grinned. “I don’t think your skin will turn yellow if you use the stream. It’s not even too cold this time of year. You’ll find it refreshing.”

Amelia’s eyes widened. “You mean…bathe…in the stream?”

He nodded. “Unless you want to ride into town to Mattie Smith’s. She’s got a bathtub upstairs the size of a dance floor.”

Amelia scrambled to her feet. “No…ah…no. I have no intention of ever setting foot inside that woman’s establishment. And I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t mention it when you come around here.”

Gabe’s grin died. “You could do worse than make friends with Mattie, Miss Prescott. She knows this territory, understands how to live out here. Whereas you—” he gave a suggestive glance at the laundered clothes “—are what we would call a tenderfoot.”

“I know…I’m as green as spring grass. But I’m going to learn, Mr. Hatch. And I don’t intend to learn from the likes of Mrs. Smith.”

“You didn’t object to learning from me,” Gabe observed.

“I didn’t really have much choice in the matter. But, anyway, at least you don’t own a bawdy house. You’re only a…a…”

“A dissolute gambler and unrepentant drunkard?” he supplied with a serious face.

Amelia’s flush deepened. “You have told me that you don’t make a habit of imbibing, and I shall take you at your word. However, you do make your living gambling, and I can’t say that it’s a profession I admire.”

Gabe got to his feet, smiling once again. “At least you’ve forgiven me for my uncharacteristic appearance the day we met. It’s a start.”

“Please don’t count on it being a start to anything, Mr. Hatch,” she said primly. “I’ve promised Parker that I won’t object to your presence here, since you seem to have won the right to be here. But that doesn’t mean I have to entertain you or treat you as anything but a business associate of my brother.”

He stood just down the bank from her, so that their eyes were nearly level. “Oh, but I was greatly entertained this afternoon, Miss Prescott, and you weren’t even trying. I can’t imagine what it would be like if you truly made an effort.”

“Nor will you find out,” she said, then spun on her heel and started down toward the stream. Gabe watched her go. Her wet dress clung to her back and hips and molded itself around her tantalizing little bottom. He gave himself a shake. It had been a long time since he’d resorted to paying for something that usually fell into his hands with very little effort. But perhaps he should give Mattie’s girls another look. He sure was feeling the itch these days.

Amelia marched up to the edge of the stream, paused, then continued walking right into it, clothes and all. Gabe called to her in surprise, “You’re supposed to go in without your clothes.”

She didn’t turn around. “Not likely with you standing there, mister. Anyway, the dress needs bathing, too.”

She was up to midthigh when her heavy, wet clothes started dragging her along with the current. Gabe ran to the stream and plunged in after her, grabbing her hand and pulling her back toward shore.

“Lord almighty, woman. You don’t need a teacher, you need a keeper.”

Amelia pulled her hand out of his grasp, wincing. “You didn’t have to grab me like that. I was fine.”

“It was either grab you or go collect you in a heap five hundred yards downstream,” he said angrily.

Amelia was rubbing her reddened palm.

“Your hand is burned, isn’t it?”

“It hurts a little,” she admitted.

They were standing in about a foot of water at the edge of the stream. Gabe gave an exasperated sigh, then grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. Before Amelia could stop him, he unbuttoned her lace collar, took it off and flung it up on the bank. “Now the dress,” he said, reaching for the top button.

Amelia took a step back into the stream. “Don’t you dare!”

“I will if you don’t do it yourself. Dress and petticoats, too. I’m sure you’re wearing some kind of dudedup Eastern underclothes that will serve just fine to protect your modesty. Then you can go in, but stay on this side—don’t go into the middle where the current’s too swift.”

Amelia looked around helplessly. “I can’t…I have to…” Finally she concluded weakly, “Parker and Morgan will be coming home wanting their supper.”

Gabe lifted his finger in the air. “I forgot. In all the fuss, I didn’t mention that I brought supper—a tenpound slab of salt pork.”

“Salt pork,” she said, looking uncomfortable. “Ah…thank you.”

Gabe cocked his head and tried to get her to meet his eyes. “What’s your favorite way to cook it?” he asked.

“Cook what?”

“Salt pork.”

She looked up at him. “Fried?” she ventured

He grinned. “Excellent. That’s my favorite, too.”

She looked relieved.

“But you’ve had quite a day,” he said. “And your hands are burned. So how about if I go ahead and fix it while you’re taking your bath?”

“You’d fix the supper?” Her chin dropped.

“It wouldn’t be the first time. I rather like cooking, to tell you the truth.”

Amelia felt a little dazed, and her feet were beginning to get numb from the cold water. The day had certainly not gone as she had planned. But she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and if Gabe was willing to put some food on her table, she’d let him do it. She didn’t care if it was rattlesnake. “I’d be very grateful, Mr. Hatch,” she said after a moment.

He tipped up her chin to force her to look at him once again. “There’s a price for my services,” he said softly.

Something bad changed in his voice, and it made the rest of her go as numb as her feet. “What do you mean?” she asked, her throat sticking on the words.

“You have to start calling me Gabe.”

Amelia cleared her throat. “Back East it wouldn’t be proper for—”

“You’re not back East anymore, tenderfoot,” he said with the same husky tone. Then he touched his finger to the tip of her nose and turned to leave. As he slogged out of the water in his wet boots he turned back to her and said. “Supper’s on in half an hour.”

Chapter Five (#ulink_25e381ed-6b0a-5645-af8f-5ec11504e84a)

Parker and Morgan didn’t seem the least surprised to find Gabe hunched over a big iron spider on the fire grate when they came in from their day’s work. Amelia had been sitting in the rocker watching him, but she jumped up guiltily when her brother came through the door.

“I see you finished the washing, sis,” he said. “Good job.”

Amelia glanced down at Gabe, who gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Some of the things are a little yellowed,” she said.

Parker laughed. “Yellow passes for white out here. Those kinds of things aren’t as important as they were back home. Can you imagine what Mother would say to a batch of yellow clothes?”