Millie Criswell, Mary McBride, Liz Ireland Read online

  She harrumphed loudly, wiping moisture from her cheek with the back of her hand. Even though Eve had indoor plumbing, she always added boiling water from the teakettle to make sure the dishwater was hot enough. “A nuisance, you mean?”

  He shrugged. “Some would say that. So, are you going to tell me or not?”

  “My parents were both killed on Christmas Eve, ten years ago.” She found herself relating to him the story of the train derailment, how she’d been left alone to fend for herself. But she didn’t reveal anything about being jilted at the altar. She had her pride, and she didn’t want Gabe Tyler’s pity. Some things were just too personal to share with strangers. And despite the odd fact that she felt quite comfortable talking with him, he was still very much a stranger.

  “Tough break. I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

  “I’m a lot stronger than I look, Gabe.” She tested the name on her tongue and found she liked it. “If folks would just respect my wishes about Christmas, everything would be fine.”

  “Hiding from things doesn’t make them get any better, Eve, if you don’t mind my saying so. I can call you Eve, can’t I?”

  She smiled—the first real smile she’d smiled in days, and her whole face lit brighter than a sunny day. “I believe you just did. Why don’t we go into the parlor and have coffee and dessert. You can tell me all about your life, and how you came to be a drifter. I’m sure there’s a story behind that. Turnabout is fair play, after all.”

  Settling himself in the dark green leather wing chair by the fireplace, Gabe placed his feet atop the embroidered footstool, wondering if Eve had done the sewing. His former wife wouldn’t have been caught dead with a needle in her hand. Of course, he suspected Eve and Marilyn had little in common, except their gender.

  The domesticity of their present situation didn’t escape him. Eve sat on the sofa with a pile of crocheting on her lap. All they needed to make the scene complete would be him in a smoking jacket and pipe, a cat or dog resting at his feet. “Got any pets?” he asked. You could tell a lot about a person by the animals they kept.

  Eyes filling with sadness, Eve she shook her head. “I had a cat, but Desdemona died last year. I’ve been thinking about getting a dog…to keep me company.” She realized he’d neglected her request to relate the details of his life.

  “Not fair. Don’t go changing the subject, Mr. Tyler…Gabe. You said you would tell me about your life.”

  “Not a great deal to tell, ma’am,” he said, sipping the hot, strong coffee and biting into the piece of apple pie she’d left on the table next to him. “I was born and raised in Boston. My father and uncle own one of the largest banks in the city, and I went into the family business after graduating college.” He had a Harvard education, for all the good it had done him. Those days, that person he once was, seemed like another man’s life, not his own.

  “You were a banker?” She was astonished by the revelation. “And you didn’t like it? I think it would be fascinating to deal with all those numbers, live in a big city like Boston, and go to college. I can’t believe you like drifting from place to place when you’ve got family, roots, and a profession to practice.”

  “It sounds great on the surface, but I found the banking profession stifling after a while. I was cooped up in a dingy office all week, my hours regulated down to the minute, and I had to deal with some very disagreeable types of people. But that’s not what drove me from Boston.”

  “Really?” She paused, fork in midair, to ask the question. “What did?”

  He fidgeted in his chair, clearly uneasy about what he was going to reveal. “I was married. The marriage was arranged between my father and his best friend,

  Marcus Trusslow. It had been decided while I was still in my teens that I would marry Marilyn Trusslow,

  Marcus’s daughter. At the time I was too young and stupid to object. Marilyn was agreeable—the Tyler fortune was large, after all—so we eventually got married.”

  At his admission, her eyes widened, and she paused to digest what he’d revealed. Gabe Tyler did not seem like the marrying kind of man. He certainly didn’t seem like a banker, which meant there was a whole lot more to the man than met the eye. She filed that thought in the back of her mind, intending to take it out later, when she had more time to sort it all out.

  “Is your wife dead then?” she asked finally. “Is that why you left Boston?”

  “She’s dead to me. Marilyn left me. She had an affair with my best friend, then took our two-year-old child and ran off with the bastard.” His eyes dulled with pain. “I haven’t seen my ex-wife or boy since.

  But I’ve been looking.” And when he found her, there’d be hell to pay.

  Eve gasped aloud. “How horrible for you! I’m so sorry, Gabe. Is that why you drift, in the hope that one day you’ll stumble across them?”

  He nodded. “I’ve hired private investigators from time to time, when I can afford it. Friends and family send me tips on Marilyn’s whereabouts, but by the time I’m able to follow up on them, she and the boy are gone. No one seems to know what happened to Fontaine. I hope he’s dead.”

  “I can’t believe anyone would do such a terrible thing.” Even being left at the altar wasn’t as bad as having your spouse steal your child from you. And his wife had been unfaithful to boot.

  What kind of woman was Marilyn Tyler to have behaved so badly? And why would any woman leave a man like Gabe Tyler? she wondered, then mentally chastised herself for thinking about him in those terms. Though he did have the bluest of eyes and hair the color of obsidian.

  Handsome is as handsome does, her mother always told her, and she’d do well to remember that, especially after the way Daniel had treated her.

  “You must have been devastated to lose your son.”

  “I’ll find him someday. I’m never going to give up hope that I will. I think of the Christmas season as a period of hope, renewal and opportunity. Unlike you, I think that all things are possible during this time of year, when men’s hearts are more likely to be open and people are generous in spirit I’ve tried to put aside my bitterness, in the hope that God will reward me with giving me back Robby. It’s foolish, I know, but that’s how I feel.”

  “I admire you for that. Thanks for sharing your story with me. I don’t know how you’ve managed with the heartache you must have endured all these years. I—” She almost confided about Daniel, then decided not to. One sad story an evening was about all she could handle.

  “It’s old news now. Like I said, I’ve tried to put it behind me. Dwelling in the past can only make a body bitter. And I lived the first few years after Marilyn left bitter as hell and hating everyone around me, even those who loved and tried to help me.”

  “You had your reasons.”

  “True. But when you hurt those around you, the reasons don’t seem so important anymore. It’s a wonder my brother and sisters are still talking to me.”

  “Do you get home very often?”

  He shook his head, trying to mask the sadness he felt. “I haven’t been back since the day I discovered my former wife’s perfidy. My father never forgave me for abandoning the bank, and my mother sides with him in all things. I’m in contact with Zachary, my brother, and my two younger sisters, Beth and Susan. They write to me from time to time, keeping me abreast of the going son back home.”

  Eve’s eyes got a faraway look in them. “I miss my family so much. I have a hard time believing that anyone would willingly give theirs up.”

  “I didn’t see that I had much choice. Boston society was stifling. After Marilyn cuckolded me with my best friend, I became the laughingstock of the social set. I was either the butt of jokes or the object of pity. I didn’t want to stay around and be either. And I had an even better reason to leave—I had to find my son.”

  Staring into the flames of the fire, Eve heaved a sigh and said, “I guess neither one of us was very lucky in love.” She didn’t realize she’d spoken her thoughts
aloud until she heard Gabe say, “Don’t tell me you were married, too?”

  Her cheeks flushed pink, which had nothing to do with the warmth of the fire. “I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”

  “So you were married?”

  “Really, Gabe, you are the most annoying, persistent man I’ve ever met.” And that included Mathias Purdy, who was pretty darn persistent.

  “Don’t see what the big secret is. Couldn’t be any worse than what I’ve just confided.”

  “I was left at the altar,” she blurted, and his mouth dropped open. “Are you satisfied? I was standing up there, wearing my mother’s bridal gown, bouquet of roses in hand, the organist playing ‘Oh, Promise Me,’ and Reverend Brewster holding the Bible and waiting to proceed. The groom-to-be never showed up.”

  Noting the unshed tears glistening in her eyes, Gabe unfolded himself from the chair and went to sit beside her on the sofa. “I’m sorry. That must have been brutal. How old were you?”

  “I was twenty-two at the time and filled with starry-eyed optimism that everything was going to be perfect between Daniel and I.” She shook her head. “I was stupid and naive. I—”

  He wrapped his arm about her. “The man was a total jackass, in my opinion, to have let someone as fine as you get away. You’re much better off without such a spineless bas…creature. I realize now that I’m better off without Marilyn, too. And if it wasn’t for my son, I wouldn’t give a tinker’s dam or spend another minute thinking about her.”

  The arm around her shoulders was warm and comforting, and Eve was very tempted to give in to her tears—Gabe had been kind—but she wouldn’t. Bad enough she had confessed her horrible story to a total stranger and allowed him to see her vulnerability. He must think her totally pathetic. Shrugging off his embrace before she made a complete fool of herself, she said, “Thank you for your words of consolation, but it’s getting late, and I have some sewing to catch up on. It’s time for me to retire.”

  “I sense there’s more you haven’t told me about your being left at the altar, something you don’t like sharing with anyone.”

  She heaved a sigh. What was the point of trying to hide the truth? He’d probably hear it from someone in town anyway. “My wedding was to be held on Christmas Eve day. So you see, I’m not enamored of the holiday, for a multitude of reasons. If December 24 never rolled around again, I would not be sorry. I have no use for Christmas and, for that matter, men. Good night.”

  He watched her go, wondering if she still loved her former fiancé, the man she called Daniel. By the devastated look on her face, he’d guess yes. And for some unfathomable reason, that just didn’t sit well with him.

  Chapter Four

  The following morning the snow was still falling heavily and accumulating at a rapid rate. Eve had promised to bake cookies for the children of Reverend Brewster’s congregation—it was something she did every year, telling herself that they weren’t exactly Christmas cookies, but winter cookies instead—and she needed to purchase eggs, milk and butter from the grocer before she could get started. Though by the looks of the snow piled high on the ground, nearly a foot now, she wasn’t going into town, or anywhere else for that matter. At least, not anytime soon.

  Gabe hadn’t put in an appearance as yet this morning, and she wondered if he was a late sleeper. She hadn’t slept past five o’clock in years, having found that early morning was a good time to catch up on things like correspondence and reading. And she liked watching the sun rise, all fresh and new, and listening to the birds chatter happily on a spring morning.

  A loud noise from the parlor caught her attention and she hurried in that direction to see what had caused it. The last thing she expected to find was Gabe with his head up the fireplace opening.

  “What on earth are you doing, Gabe? You’ll get your clothes filthy if you don’t come away from there this instant.” He was dressed in worn denim pants and a blue chambray shirt, and he filled out his clothes very well. His chest was wide and muscular, as were his arms and thighs. He had the body of a man used to doing a hard day’s work.

  Crawling out backward, Gabe wiped the soot from his face with a red bandanna, leaving streaks every where he touched. She fought the urge to assist him. “Just checking to make sure the snow hasn’t blocked the flue. We’ll be eating smoke if that happens. And I’m going to clean out the ash while I’m at it, so the fire will burn hotter.”

  “Really, that’s not necessary. I’m perfectly capable of cleaning the fire box myself. I’ve been doing it for years, as a matter of fact.” Though not as often as she should—it was such a ghastly chore—but she didn’t expect, or want, him to do it.

  Eve prided herself on being self-sufficient. She didn’t need any man doing for her. If she relied on no one but herself, she was never disappointed.

  “That’s not a job for a woman. Besides, I like to make myself useful. And seeing as how I can’t do much else, with the weather the way it is, I might as well help around the house.”

  Not having a strong argument for such logical reasoning, she said, “Well, since you put it that way…thank you. I appreciate your help. I’ll just go in and fix breakfast. Do you like pancakes?”

  He grinned, and it fairly took her breath away.

  “Yes, ma’am. And it’s been a good while since I’ve had any. By the way, I neglected to tell you last night, but you’re a great cook. That apple pie you made was the best I’ve ever eaten.”

  Her cheeks warmed at the compliment. She hadn’t cooked for a man, with the exception of the boarders, since Daniel. And he was a puny eater at best. “I appreciate your saying so. I love to cook and bake. It’s kind of a hobby of mine.”

  “Well, you’re darn good at it. I’ll just clean up this mess, wash up, and be right in to help you.”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary. I—” The stubborn look he flashed stopped Eve in mid-sentence. “All right. I know there’s no use arguing with you when your mind’s made up.”

  “That a girl. Now go fix breakfast I’m starving.”

  In somewhat of a daze, Eve walked into the kitchen. She wasn’t used to having anyone, especially a man, talk to her in such a familiar fashion.

  The boarders she took in were usually quiet, reserved and kept to themselves. As a rule, she didn’t give strangers the run of the house, preferring to keep them to a strict schedule. She rarely had much interaction with her guests. It was the way she liked it. Or had liked it. Because having Gabe around was proving to be quite diverting. She hadn’t conversed so freely with anyone in years.

  And that scared the bejeezus out of her.

  Gabe was a drifter—a drifter with a painful past, who was on a mission to find his son. He wouldn’t stay in Cedar Springs long. Once the snow cleared he’d be gone, and Eve would be alone again, talking to no one but herself. She guessed it was her own

  I fault. She pushed people away, never allowing anyone to get too close for fear of being hurt. But she did miss witty repartee, and even getting into a healthy argument now and again usually proved quite stimulating.

  Having a conversation with Daniel had been like pulling teeth. He was always so introspective, so quiet. Now that she’d had time to reflect on their relationship, she wondered what on earth had possessed her to take up with the man in the first place. Her own company was far better than his had ever been. He certainly wasn’t anywhere nearly as gregarious as…She shook her head, not willing to go there.

  Eve knew the reason she’d accepted Daniel’s proposal. She’d been lonely after her parents had passed away. Lonely and afraid of living the remainder of her life alone. Of course, she’d ended up doing that anyway.

  Hurrying into the kitchen, she pulled a slab of bacon from the icebox, cutting several pieces off and tossing them into a hot cast-iron skillet. The meat started to sizzle and sputter at once.

  She was mixing up the pancake batter when Gabe walked into the room, and she could smell the musky scent of his cologne, mi
xed with smoke from the fireplace, before he actually approached. “Coffee’s in the pot,” she said without turning around. “Help yourself. The bacon’s almost done. And we’ll be eating soon.”

  Pouring himself a cup of the hot liquid, he seated himself at the pine table that had been covered with a faded red cloth. “I like watching you cook. You’re so efficient in your moves. I never could figure out how a woman could juggle so many things on the stove at once without burning everything, the way I do. I’m a terrible cook.”

  Laughing, she turned in his direction, and he nearly fell off the chair at how beautiful she looked. Her hair had been left long, pulled back from her face, and was fastened at her nape with a clip. She wore a stiffly starched white shirtwaist and serviceable gray skirt, and could have passed for a schoolmarm. But her prim appearance only served to whet his appetite even more.

  He doubted Eve Barlow realized the effect she had on a man. Despite the fact she’d once been engaged, might even have had her reputation compromised by that jerk-of-a-fiancé, she had a virginal way about her. Innocence shone in her pretty blue eyes.

  But was she innocent? And was she virginal?

  There was a lot more to the spinster than he’d first thought. Passion, certainly. Gabe hadn’t seduced a woman in a very long time, but he was certainly thinking along those lines now.

  Having Eve warm and willing in his bed would be a pleasant way to pass the time until his departure. But he would only make love to her if she was willing and not looking for anything permanent. From the sounds of it, she didn’t have much use for men, had probably sworn off marriage, so he thought their coming together might just be what the two of them needed in their lives right now: a dalliance with no strings attached.

  “Goodness gracious! Why are you staring at me like that?” Eve’s face flushed as red as the gingham curtains hanging at the window. “You’ve got such a determined expression on your face.” She felt as if he could see clear down to her chemise and drawers.