Something Blue

Chapter 22

"So something has happened?"

His smile hardened back to inscrutable stone. "You have my word I'll explain, sweetheart. I just gotta put Reaper away." His lip twitched. "About that coffee?"

Katherine scowled. "I'm good for more than making coffee, Gabriel. Come on, and I'll help you." Pulling away from the draw of his nearness, the action as hard as if he physically held her, she started toward the barn. He walked beside her, and she bit her lip hard against the urge to comment on the way his feet dragged a little through the snow. For weeks, he had been chipping away at the ice around her heart. Now, seeing him so pale and worn, the ice was melting, sloughing off in great, slushy sheets.

Inside the barn, she left him to wrestle Reaper into a stall and fetched a bucket of water and fresh hay for the trough. From the corner of her eye, she watched him work. He seemed steady enough. Not hurt, then, perhaps. Just... tired? And could she blame him? She was tired and she was sheltered out here in solitude. He left her and Isobel in their safe haven and returned to the chaos and hatred of town. She had avoided asking about Jacob for the last few weeks. His very name sent her back into shallow breath and nightmares, and she hadn't wanted to spoil the glorious days they had been spending as a family.

Perhaps it was time she asked.

All of that could wait, though, until they were inside and drinking hot coffee by a cracking fire. She felt a fierce longing to take his coat and feed him something warm and see if she could coax free the ruddy-cheeked boy who had kissed her in the snow. Or, better yet, the quiet man who had loved her so tenderly and so completely the night they created their daughter.

In truth, she wanted both of them and it had been far too long since she had seen anything but glimpses of either. Like a fluttering curtain revealed glimpses of the room beyond, or lightning flashes cast a heartbeat of sunlight in the night. She saw the boy in fits and glances when he played with Isobel, or when she herself made him laugh unexpectedly. She saw the man in the moments right before he left, both of them lulled, or perhaps driven, by their imminent departure into expressions of affection they otherwise wouldn't have dared.

She did not want glimpses or lightning flashes. She was no longer so ragged and broken that heartbeats of feeling were all she could bear. She wanted to throw back the curtains. She wanted to sit and bask in the sun. She wanted to hear him laugh and wanted to laugh with him. She wanted to feel the heat and give of his skin against hers.

She stuck close by his side as they walked to the house, the clouds still racing overhead, casting them in shadows one moment and blinding them with sunlight the next. That closeness that had been so natural and safe while they walked, and before while they had worked side by side in the barn, felt suddenly stifling when they shut the door behind them and stood for a long moment in the mudroom. He was so large, his body filling the small space, and the weight of whatever it was he bore was so heavy she could feel it herself. Like some part of his spirit had leaned on her even while he stood there on his own, with a foot of air between them.

"We should be quiet," she murmured as she slipped out of her coat and sat to remove her boots. "If Izzy hears you're here we won't have a moment to talk."

"Where is she?"

"With Mel in her office."

"Right..."

If she hadn't been watching him so closely, she'd have missed his wince as he shrugged out of his jacket.

"Gabe?"

Ignoring her, he hung his coat on a peg and sat beside her. Another wince, just the barest flutter of an eyelash. The tiniest feathering tick of his jaw as he bent over to pull off his own boots.