what’s acceptable and what isn’t is your responsibility. You understand, son?”
The boy nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“All right, then.” Gabe walked back to his truck, not allowing himself any softening chitchat. Whatever that strange feeling he’d had when Ciara smiled, he had to have imagined it.
He was going to be pissed if he was back here in two hours because the damn dog was already in the pasture nipping at his horses’ heels again.
“Sir? I mean, mister...I mean, Gabe?”
The driver’s-side door was open; he didn’t have a lot of choice but to glance back.
Neither woman nor boy had moved. The old dog had settled her butt and looked as if she’d be content never to move. The young dog, however, was getting antsy.
“Yes?”
“I can still come to your place this morning, right?”
Oh, hell. In his exasperation, he’d forgotten. He wanted to say, You’ve already wasted enough of my day, but the apprehension coupled with hope that the boy couldn’t hide stopped the words in Gabe’s mouth.
“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “I’ll be expecting you.”
He took one last look as he started the engine, bothered by the knowledge that he wanted to see warmth again on Ciara’s face. That it would be easy for a man to get to crave the sight of that expression.
And there it was, just as he’d envisioned it, and the crack in his protective wall groaned a little as the damage done to it allowed further weakening.
He drove faster than he should have down their long, dusty driveway.
* * *
S TARING IN DISMAY at the math problem Mark didn’t understand, Ciara wished she’d escaped to her workroom immediately after breakfast instead of making the mistake of lingering to ask if he needed any help. She’d mostly been okay with the seventh-grade math in the original curriculum, but once she downloaded the kind of work he’d already been doing in his advanced class, she was lost.
What’s more, this was the first major download she’d tried since discovering high-speed internet wasn’t available. In moving to such a rural location, they’d apparently lost a decade or two. Dial-up was torturous.
“This is geometry, isn’t it?” she said unhappily.
“Um... yeah .”
“Sarcasm is not appreciated.”
“Well, it’s about angles.”
“I can see that,” she snapped. It showed a shape—God help her, she didn’t even know what the shape was called—and wanted to know the sum of the angle measures in it. She’d taken geometry in high school and hated it. “You know, if you’re going to work on this stuff, I’ll have to review it in advance to be any help to you.”
“But Mom, it’s only eighth-grade math!” her son exclaimed.
Gee, and she hadn’t already felt stupid enough.
“Do you know how many years it’s been since I took this stuff?” she asked. “Things like percentages I use once in a while in real life. Geometry, never.”
“Oh.”
They both stared at the peculiar shape.
“Maybe Gabe knows the answer,” he suggested.
Because you had to know angles to shoot a Remington rifle?
“’Cuz he has this cool gauge that measures angles!” Mark said with new enthusiasm. “So he must understand them, right?”
“You have my blessing to ask.”
“Yeah!” He grabbed the worksheet and stuffed it into the daypack that already sat on the table. “It’s time for me to go anyway.”
“You’ve got the cookies?”
“You saw me put them in the pack.”
“Right.” Of course she had.
Anxious mother that she was, she walked as far as the front porch and stayed there while he pedaled down the driveway, turned right on the road then up Gabe Tennert’s nicely paved driveway. When he disappeared from sight behind the house, she figured he’d made it safely. Watson, nose pressed to the screen door, whined miserably. He’d wanted to go, and he didn’t understand why he couldn’t. Ciara shuddered at the thought of him in Gabe’s workshop.
He almost escaped when she opened the
The boy nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“All right, then.” Gabe walked back to his truck, not allowing himself any softening chitchat. Whatever that strange feeling he’d had when Ciara smiled, he had to have imagined it.
He was going to be pissed if he was back here in two hours because the damn dog was already in the pasture nipping at his horses’ heels again.
“Sir? I mean, mister...I mean, Gabe?”
The driver’s-side door was open; he didn’t have a lot of choice but to glance back.
Neither woman nor boy had moved. The old dog had settled her butt and looked as if she’d be content never to move. The young dog, however, was getting antsy.
“Yes?”
“I can still come to your place this morning, right?”
Oh, hell. In his exasperation, he’d forgotten. He wanted to say, You’ve already wasted enough of my day, but the apprehension coupled with hope that the boy couldn’t hide stopped the words in Gabe’s mouth.
“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “I’ll be expecting you.”
He took one last look as he started the engine, bothered by the knowledge that he wanted to see warmth again on Ciara’s face. That it would be easy for a man to get to crave the sight of that expression.
And there it was, just as he’d envisioned it, and the crack in his protective wall groaned a little as the damage done to it allowed further weakening.
He drove faster than he should have down their long, dusty driveway.
* * *
S TARING IN DISMAY at the math problem Mark didn’t understand, Ciara wished she’d escaped to her workroom immediately after breakfast instead of making the mistake of lingering to ask if he needed any help. She’d mostly been okay with the seventh-grade math in the original curriculum, but once she downloaded the kind of work he’d already been doing in his advanced class, she was lost.
What’s more, this was the first major download she’d tried since discovering high-speed internet wasn’t available. In moving to such a rural location, they’d apparently lost a decade or two. Dial-up was torturous.
“This is geometry, isn’t it?” she said unhappily.
“Um... yeah .”
“Sarcasm is not appreciated.”
“Well, it’s about angles.”
“I can see that,” she snapped. It showed a shape—God help her, she didn’t even know what the shape was called—and wanted to know the sum of the angle measures in it. She’d taken geometry in high school and hated it. “You know, if you’re going to work on this stuff, I’ll have to review it in advance to be any help to you.”
“But Mom, it’s only eighth-grade math!” her son exclaimed.
Gee, and she hadn’t already felt stupid enough.
“Do you know how many years it’s been since I took this stuff?” she asked. “Things like percentages I use once in a while in real life. Geometry, never.”
“Oh.”
They both stared at the peculiar shape.
“Maybe Gabe knows the answer,” he suggested.
Because you had to know angles to shoot a Remington rifle?
“’Cuz he has this cool gauge that measures angles!” Mark said with new enthusiasm. “So he must understand them, right?”
“You have my blessing to ask.”
“Yeah!” He grabbed the worksheet and stuffed it into the daypack that already sat on the table. “It’s time for me to go anyway.”
“You’ve got the cookies?”
“You saw me put them in the pack.”
“Right.” Of course she had.
Anxious mother that she was, she walked as far as the front porch and stayed there while he pedaled down the driveway, turned right on the road then up Gabe Tennert’s nicely paved driveway. When he disappeared from sight behind the house, she figured he’d made it safely. Watson, nose pressed to the screen door, whined miserably. He’d wanted to go, and he didn’t understand why he couldn’t. Ciara shuddered at the thought of him in Gabe’s workshop.
He almost escaped when she opened the
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