Blood Brothers

demand that he come. And she knew she didn’t dare.

She knew there was no point. She would cause more trouble. As if he needed more trouble…

“Gabe!” Charlie shouted.

“Gabe!” shrieked Emma.

And Freddie opened her eyes, looking down the field wildly-and in vain.

Then she looked where her children were looking-where Charlie was running-and saw Gabe, dirty, disheveled, but-thank God-in one piece, coming up the lane toward them.

She started toward him, then stopped, watching as Charlie hurled himself into Gabe’s arms. She saw those arms go hard around him, saw Gabe crush the boy against his chest and bury his face in Charlie’s hair.

“Don’t ever-don’t you ever-do a thing like that again!” His voice was ragged as he let the boy down, but kept a hand on him.

“I only wanted to ride ’im,” Charlie said. “You do.”

“It’s different,” Gabe said, his voice still rough. “Way different.”

“But-”

Gabe put his arm around Charlie’s narrow shoulders. “Listen,” he said. “You don’t have to prove yourself to me or to anyone. Then, with his arm still around her son, he looked up at Freddie. “I’m sorry.”

It was the last thing she expected him to say. “S-sorry?”

He nodded. “He did it because of what I said, that I wouldn’t coddle them. I’m sorry. I had no right.”

“It’s…it’s all right,” Freddie’s voice faltered. “He’s all right. You’re all right.” She wanted to go to him, to put her arms around him the way he had around Charlie, to hug him, to prove to herself he was all in one piece, safe. Alive.

She gave him a watery smile, praying that she wouldn’t be soppy and start crying. She was trembling all over.

“All’s well, ends well,” Mrs. Peek said. “An’ what a story us’ll have!” She rubbed her hands together and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

But Gabe shook his head. “I’m writing this one.”

Her face fell.

“And we’ll have Dodd the photo out to take your picture.”

“Our picture?” Mrs. Peek blinked owlishly.

Gabe grinned and put his other arm around her. “If it hadn’t been for you, Charlie’s adventure with the bull might have turned out a heck of a lot worse. In next Thursday’s edition we’ll have a story-and a picture. This time, Mrs. Peek, you’re the news!”

He knew words didn’t change things.

Yes, Charlie was safe. But he had been at risk. He might have been killed or seriously injured out there.

It was all his fault, and Gabe knew it.

Even though Freddie smiled and said it wasn’t, she was very quiet all the way home. She tried not to fuss over Charlie- Gabe could see that. But he could also see that she had to almost forcibly keep herself from touching him, patting him, stroking his hair. And every time she turned away from Charlie to look at him, almost instantly her gaze skated away again.

As if she couldn’t bear to look at him.

Well, she wouldn’t have to. Not much longer.

He should have left at once, but he needed a shower. He needed to put on some of those clean clothes she’d washed and folded for him. He couldn’t turn up at Earl’s looking like he’d just stepped out of the rodeo arena. He didn’t want to have to explain.

By the time he’d cleaned up, though, Freddie had supper on the table.

“Please,” she said, “eat with us,”

And the children said, “Please, Gabe.”

Truth be told, he didn’t want to say no. All the momentum that was supposed to have got him out the door had vanished in the field. All the adrenaline that had kept him going was gone.

It was a simple meal. Pork chops. A lettuce salad. Bread and butter.

It was the best meal he’d ever eaten.

It stuck in his throat.

Because in just a few minutes-an hour at most-he was going to have to leave it all behind-leave this house, these children.

This woman.

He watched her every move. Every time she turned away, his eyes followed her. They traced her steps, her shape, her smile. She smiled at the children. Once or twice she even spared a smile for him. He memorized them, stored them away for the not too distant future when those memories would be all he had.

“Tell us a story, Gabe,” Emma begged after dinner was over and the dishes were done.

“I-” He was going to say he couldn’t, that he had to leave. But he couldn’t get the words past his throat.

It would be easier, he told himself, to go if the kids were in bed asleep, not standing there watching him drive away. So he said, “I know a short one.”

“About bulls?” Emma asked.

Gabe saw Charlie shudder. “No,” he told the little girl. “This one’s about a lord.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Freddie start. But he deliberately didn’t look at her.

He sat down with the children and began his tale. He told them about a pair of cousins-“blood brothers”-because once upon a time they’d pricked their fingers and mingled their already shared blood and promised they would always look out for each other. But then they grew up and grew apart.

One went to be a cowboy. The other was groomed to be an earl.

“Tell us about the cowboy,” Emma begged.

But Gabe shook his head. “You know all about the cowboy.”

He told them about Randall instead. He told them about duty and responsibility and commitment. He told them about putting other people’s needs first and sticking to what needed to be done.

“Sometimes it isn’t much fun. And it doesn’t always look heroic, but it is,” he said. “Just like Mrs. Peek-doing what she always did-but she might have saved your life today.”

“You saved my life,” Charlie insisted. “You fought the bull.”

“I wouldn’t have even known where you were if Mrs. Peek hadn’t sent Emma to get us.”

“But still-”

Gabe shook his head. “I’m no hero.”

He glanced at Freddie, hoping she heard.

She was sitting on the far side of the room, the mending in her lap. She