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With an exhausted sigh, he pushed the covers away and went to the window. The stars were out tonight in force, a glory of God’s universe, numbered and named by the Creator. Gabe wanted to appreciate the Lord’s handiwork more but he felt too heavy inside.
Dawn would come soon. Today, he had to find a way to get back to work. The mine project was at a standstill, but leaving A.J. was out of the question.
His thoughts went to Brooke. He’d started to cross the lawn a dozen times. He’d opened his phone to call, but each time he’d reconsidered. He’d hurt her, said ugly things and he couldn’t forget her look of devastation when he’d driven away with A.J., leaving her alone with Vincent and Kylie and her guilt. He knew she felt responsible. She’d struggled with guilt over her sister’s death for years.
And she’d just now let go.
She didn’t need a guy like him to bring it all back.
He didn’t blame her. Not really. He was afraid. Afraid to take another chance. Afraid of losing A.J. Afraid that whatever evil swirled around the mine and Brooke would harm his son. He’d never been a coward, but two scares were too many.
“I miss her.”
She was hurting. As if she were an extension of himself he could feel her heartache because it was his own. He wondered if she was awake.
Three days seemed like a million.
He shouldn’t have walked away and left her there.
Slowly, the stars went out, tiny blinks that disappeared like snuffed candles as dawn crept over the mountains. Gabe dressed, made coffee and waited for A.J. to awaken. Maybe he should move back to Denver for a while to be near his mother. Someone else could manage the mine operation—if he didn’t shut it down completely.
No, he couldn’t do that. Shutting down would put people out of work. Men like Tim and Shane and Jed who’d been there when he needed them to search for A.J. No matter how wealthy, a man couldn’t buy that kind of loyalty. This little town cared, and in turn, he cared.
Feet propped on a kitchen chair, he scrubbed a hand over blurry eyes. The back of his neck hurt. His heart hurt worse.
His cell phone chirped. At six o’clock in the morning, this couldn’t be good news. He frowned at the unfamiliar number.
“Gabe Wesson.”
“Wesson? Zach Clayton.”
Gabe’s feet thudded to the floor. “Brooke’s brother?”
“Right.”
An uncomfortable silence hummed across the miles. What could Brooke’s law dog brother want with him at six o’clock in the morning?
Chapter Sixteen
Her bag was packed. The house locked. Her brother and sister informed of her whereabouts. A weekend in Colorado Springs might be what she needed to clear her head and make a firm decision. Since the disaster with A.J. and Gabe, she’d waffled back and forth about leaving town for good. The inheritance meant nothing without Gabe and A.J. At the same time, others depended on her. Macy for one. Arabella for another. As far as she could figure, none of the other heirs to Grandpa George’s fortune were ever coming home anyway.
With a final, longing glance toward Gabe’s quiet home, she put the Toyota in reverse and backed out of the driveway. She’d watched Gabe come and go for three days, watched him sit in broody silence on his back patio until she felt like a stalker.
The relationship growing between them had died when she’d let him down in the worst possible manner.
Didn’t he know she loved him? Didn’t he know she would protect A.J. with her life?
But she hadn’t. Whether by accident or design, A.J. had disappeared under her care. Nothing could change that. How could she expect forgiveness from Gabe when she couldn’t forgive herself?
The car bumped across the train tracks as she turned onto Railroad Street. Jasmine had asked to meet at the café this morning before she left. Brooke didn’t have the heart for breakfast or conversation, but Jasmine needed a friend, considering the wall of resistance she and Cade had slammed into when they’d announced their upcoming nuptials.
Jasmine was already there, seated at a table in the center of the room when Brooke stepped inside. Bacon scented the air. Brooke’s stomach growled, a reminder of the meals she hadn’t eaten.
