Coffee with Gabe.
Not a date, not a date, not a date...
Corinne muttered the phrase repeatedly as she headed for the café not far from the Thruway exit. The café in town was lovely, and she loved the Grace Haven diner, but both would be mobbed with people they knew. This one was just far enough outside town to draw travelers, not locals. Here they could sit and talk in relative peace without becoming gossip fodder. She parked the car and spotted Gabe, waiting outside.
Chivalrous.
He could have escaped the brisk wind and the growing chill by grabbing a table for them, but he didn’t. He’d waited in the cold for her, and that made everything so much nicer. “Hey.”
He reached out a hand for hers as naturally as if he did it every day, and that made her wish he did. “They’re calling for snow by midweek. And not a few flakes, either. The real thing.”
His hand clasped hers in a move so smooth she wasn’t sure where his skin began and hers ended. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“Glad to do it,” she told him, looking up.
Big mistake.
The minute her gaze met his, all she could think of was that near kiss on the deck, and wonder what she was missing by not kissing Gabe.
She dropped her gaze and spotted an empty corner table as they moved indoors. “How about that one? Quiet enough to be private, open enough to enjoy the carols.”
“As if we didn’t have enough of those today.”
She settled into her side of the booth and frowned. “I love Christmas music. I love the sweet ones, the romantic ones, the funny ones. I love hymns and carols, and I will admit to playing Christmas music throughout the year as the spirit moves me. Does that make me crazy?”
“The fact that you asked the question should be enough of an answer,” he teased, but she wasn’t immune to the sorrow in his manner.
“The pain of Christmas.” She said the words softly and covered his hand with hers. “When things go well, the holidays are such a joy. But in despair or sorrow, they become a sharp-edged sword. I’ve seen many a grief-stricken family through those first holidays after a loss, and it’s heartbreaking, Gabe.”
“I bet it is.”
His simple words agreed, but she’d read the anguish in his face over the past week. The holidays had a way of magnifying loss. She understood that from a personal and professional perspective. But Gabe’s angst had fired up the moment he’d found that baby at his door and hadn’t dissipated yet.
“Are you hungry, Corinne?”
She shook her head. “I stopped by the strudel booth twice today. Hannah Guerst’s homemade strudels are my guilty pleasure. Her shop is far enough away that I don’t get them often, but during festival time I eat as much as I want. My reward for a year of work well done.”
“Do you have a favorite?”
“Too many,” she admitted, but the question made her smile. “Anything with cinnamon. I love the apple varieties, but I think the brown sugar pecan with maple glaze is my favorite.”
“Anything with brown sugar, maple and nuts should be a favorite,” he agreed. He stood to place their order with the barista. “Do you want a regular coffee? Or something fancier?”
“Tea,” she replied and tapped her slim gold watch. “I’ve got to be up early and back to the festival grounds, so no coffee tonight. A hot raspberry peach tea sounds marvelous.”
He crossed to the barista station and when he came back, he set her tea down first, then sipped his coffee before settling into the booth again. “This is amazingly good coffee. That would be my suggestion to the festival committee for next year. Get someone on-site that can make a decent cup of coffee.”
She didn’t disagree. “You’re right, and that’s part of the reason I need to step down. I can’t hurt old Milt’s feelings by refusing him a spot. He’s such a sweet old guy. But his coffee has taken a nosedive, and that’s a problem that needs to be solved by someone else. And while I can make small talk as well as anyone, I don’t think we came here to talk about coffee, did we?”
“No.” He gripped his cup and faced her. “I’ve filled you in on my cousin and how her parents reacted to her choices and her pregnancy. At this point, they think she gave Jess up for adoption when she was born over four months ago.”
Corinne cringed slightly. “Ouch.”
“I know.” He sipped his coffee with deliberation, then said, “I’m procrastinating purposely, for a mix of reasons, but I’m not sure how to move forward. My fear is that once they know, they’ll plead for custody.”
“Most grandparents would,” she acknowledged. She really couldn’t imagine many grandparents who wouldn’t.
“That’s just it.” He leaned forward, hands clasped as he continued in a serious tone. “They’re unforgiving people. Their brand of religion doesn’t allow for mistakes. They get harsh. And I’m not saying that to excuse what Adrianna’s done over the years, but it was almost as if nothing she did would ever please them. So maybe she simply gave up.” He studied his mug with grave intent. A muscle in his lower right cheek twitched slightly. “They didn’t want damaged goods in a child. They threw Adrianna out. I can’t imagine turning Jessie over to them and witnessing the same thing happening again. How unfair would that be to an innocent baby, to knowingly place her into that kind of a situation? And if Adrianna had wanted her parents to have the baby, she’d have arranged it that way. She didn’t. That’s the stumbling block, because she specifically asked for her parents to be denied custody in her papers.”
She lifted her eyebrows, inviting him to continue.
“I’m not perfect, either,” he said softly. “I’ve made mistakes in life, and the thought of raising a baby scares me. But the thought of going against Adrianna’s wishes and letting my aunt and uncle take Jess just doesn’t sit right. And once they realize where she is, I think they’ll fight for her. Or find some way within the family to try to make her life miserable. And I’m not sure I’m strong enough for that.”
“For a fight? You?” She sat back, amazed. “Gabe Cutler, I’ve never met a stronger or fairer man in my life. Of course you’re up for it. You rise to any occasion. It’s part of who you are. Why is this different? Are you hesitating for the financial reasons of hiring a lawyer? I don’t have much, but I’ll help if I can.”
His smile was part grimace. “Thank you. I love your generous spirit, but, no. It’s not money. It’s me, Corinne.”
“You?” She watched him, puzzled, then sighed. “The past likes to step on the heels of the present, doesn’t it? It’s so hard to walk fully forward when regret tugs us backward. Do you want to tell me about it? If you do, that’s fine. And if not, that’s fine, too, Gabe. Either way, I’m giving you the top slot on my prayer list because I don’t like to see you hurting. And I expect,” she added softly, leaning forward so no one would hear, “that you’ve been hurting for a while.”
* * *
He’d been hurting for more than a while. The ache in his heart had been raw for a very long time. Corinne’s sympathy helped, maybe because she sympathized without knowing a thing. He took a deep breath and began. “I was married years ago.”
Her open look invited him to continue.
“We had a daughter. Grace.” He loosed his hands and gripped the coffee cup hard. “She would have been Tee’s age. And she was like Tee in so many ways. Funny. Laughing. Always talking, spontaneous, bright. She was a ray of sunshine that just never seemed to draw a cloud. Beautiful and dear and amazing.” His eyes grew wet.
He didn’t care.
Because talking about Grace was worth risking his tough-guy image.
“We went to a party, a football party at a friend’s house. A bunch of kids, moms and dads. A perfect day. My buddy had put a man cave in his barn. Just a spot where he could watch the games and eat pizza and wings and be loud on game days.” He lifted his coffee, changed his mind and set it down again. “Somehow I must have left the door to the car open. It was a beautiful day, the first game of the season, and I disappeared while the women and kids hung out in the backyard and the upstairs family room. It was all so perfect...” He breathed deeply. “Until I heard the scream.”
Her hand touched his gently. So gently.
“Somehow Grace had gotten into the car and shut the door. I was the last one out of the car, I was the last one to go into the party, and I must not have shut it right. I was carrying a small cooler of food and shoved it shut with my knee. I thought it closed.” He sighed, then shook his head. “It didn’t. My wife found Grace in the car, in the hot sun. She thought Grace was playing with the other kids. I was inside, oblivious to my beautiful daughter. And just like that, she was gone.”
“Oh, Gabe.”
Did she know that tears were streaming down her cheeks? Maybe not, because she did nothing to blot them.
She covered his wrists with her hands. “I am so, so sorry. I can’t even imagine your loss.”
He pulled one hand free and slid a stack of napkins her way. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Corinne. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that,” she scolded as the warm Christmas hymn about a holy night wove poignant notes in the background. “Sharing hopes and fears and sadness is important. But I’m brokenhearted for you, Gabe. What a weight to carry around for so long.” Her expression deepened. She kept her hand on his wrist and squeezed lightly. “No wonder Jessie scares you to death.”
“She does,” he admitted. “But I’m just as worried about letting her go to her grandparents, because then I’m breaking another sacred trust. And I can’t do that, Corinne. I’ve done it once already, so which fear do I face? The fear of making another grave mistake with an innocent child or the fear of letting others hurt her emotionally for the rest of her life?”
“You didn’t ask to be her guardian,” she reminded him. “But I can understand your cousin’s decision. She looked for someone fair, wise and strong to take care of her baby. She wasn’t looking back, Gabe. Adrianna was looking forward. And I think that’s what you need to do, too.”
Forward.
He’d moved forward physically because he had no choice, but emotionally he’d stayed mired in personal tragedy for years. “There’s more, Corinne.”
She frowned in sympathy.
“My wife died the next year. We weren’t able to get over our loss, and she slipped into a cycle of drinking the pain away. She left me on the one-year anniversary of losing Grace and died in a one-car crash three months later while under the influence of alcohol. And nothing’s been quite right since.”
She stood, came around the table and slipped in beside him.
And then she hugged him.
She wrapped her arms around him and held him close.
He felt treasured.
He felt undone, unwound, as if part of that tight knot coiled within him had worked itself loose. He cherished the embrace, and the woman offering it. Her solace blessed him, and the scent of her hair mingled with brewing coffee and baking gingerbread. Too soon she released him and leaned back. “You should keep Jessie.”
“And shrug off her family?”
“You’re her family now. You’re the one chosen by the distraught mother. There were reasons she sent her daughter to your protection in her hour of need. Her actions show intent and follow-through. She made her decision known and legalized it as best she could. I can see this is a hard step forward for you. You don’t trust yourself.”
The accuracy of her words made him swallow hard.
“But you should trust yourself, because you’ve got every quality a child would want in a parent.”
Except the one that mattered nine years ago. Protection.
“And I cannot pretend to imagine your pain at losing Grace, but I wish one of those grown-ups who were outside had been paying more attention, too. And I expect there were several who feel just as guilty as you do.”
Her words took him by surprise.
He’d heard them before, sure, but this was the first time they’d really registered. Maybe because he hadn’t talked about losing Grace and Elise for long, long years. “I can’t blame others for my carelessness, Corinne. It would be wrong.”
“It would,” she whispered back with a gaze so soft and caring that his heart yearned to know hers. To see the world through Corinne’s pragmatic optimism for the rest of his life. “It’s not about blaming others, Gabe. It never is. It’s about forgiving ourselves, and I think Adrianna has given you the best chance to do exactly that. She’s offered to let you make decisions for her child during a season of loving and forgiving. The best season of all. Now it’s up to you to grab hold and hop on the roller coaster of being a single parent.”
She thought he could do this and believed it was in Jessie’s best interests.
His phone buzzed a text from his mother. He pulled it out, saw the photo and held it up for Corinne to see.
Baby Jessie, curled up in the soft-sided crib, sound asleep with a hinted smile, and the caption below read Smiling and dreaming of great things to come.
His heart stretched wider, opening the door of possibilities. “I hate that my choice might hurt my aunt and uncle, but my conscience won’t let me give Jessie up to them.” He took in a deep breath. “I’ll let them know I have her, and that I’m her legal guardian. Then we’ll take it from there.”
“And I’ll be right next door, helping all I can,” she promised. “We single parents have to stick together.”
He turned to smile at her.
She was close.
So close that he could lean just a tiny bit closer and whisper a kiss to that beautiful mouth. And as he contemplated that, he realized he didn’t want just a sweet little kiss of friendship.
He wanted to let her know that she wasn’t just a neighbor and a friend. She was beyond special and every part of his being wanted her to realize that. He dropped his gaze to her lips again. “Corinne...”
She came closer, so close he felt the warmth of her breath flutter the hairs along his temple.
And then she stopped. She drew back.
Regret shadowed her face. She bit her lip lightly, pensive. “I made a promise to myself, too. When Dave died, and I went through that pain of loss firsthand, I promised myself I would never get involved with another lawman. How could I knowingly put Callan and Tee through that if something were to happen? So as much as I’d love to pursue this—” she indicated his mouth “—I can’t, Gabe. I don’t think I have it in me to take that risk again.”
“But you’re tempted? A little?” He raised one brow slightly while he waited, watching her eyes widen in sweet reaction. And then he waited some more.
* * *
She was tempted more than a little, and the look on Gabe’s face suggested he suspected as much. He’d shared his heart and his pain with her. He’d bared his soul.
More than ever, she longed to care for him. Comfort him.
But her pledge had never been about her. She was tough, faithful and independent enough to trust God’s goodness. But to knowingly thrust her children into that situation would be wrong. “Lots of things are tempting, Gabe. But single parents have to weigh a lot more than attraction. I’ve got three hearts to protect under my roof.”
He acknowledged that with a look of acceptance. Then he leaned closer, just a little. “Nothing has to be decided tonight, does it?”
“No,” she agreed. But she needed to make herself clear, she needed him to hear her. “But—”
“May I suggest to the committee chairwoman that we table this discussion until our next meeting?” His gentle look warmed her from within, even as he teased her. “That will give all parties time to reevaluate their positions.”
“What if I can’t change my position, Gabe?” She asked the question straight out. “What if I can’t take the risk?”
He smiled right at her, the kind of endearing smile that had drawn her in from the beginning. “That just means I need to try harder, doesn’t it?”
Oh, those words.
That look.
That smile.
She couldn’t help but smile back. It felt wonderful to be wooed by a strong man who thought she was special. Who thought her children were special. She slid out of the booth and stood. Gabe followed. “Sure you don’t want supper, Corinne? You’ve got to be hungry, and a few pieces of strudel aren’t considered a meal. Plus I’ve got a built-in babysitter for the night. Wow, those are words I never thought I’d hear coming out of my mouth again.”
She smiled and shook her head. “I’ve got to stop by Mom and Dad’s and see the kids. But if you offer me supper tomorrow night...” She let the words float back to him as she walked to the door. “I will forgo my urge for strudel and enjoy a good meal. Pete and Kate are taking the kids into the city to see a holiday musical, so I’m on my own.”
“I’d like that.” He opened her car door for her once they were outside, then leaned down to hold her gaze. “See you in the morning.”
She would see him then. And all day. And then for supper.
Suddenly the risk of the attraction seemed outweighed by the strength of the attraction, but was that the smart thing to do?
She didn’t know. And until she did know, she should raise her guard, but when she was around Gabe Cutler, keeping her walls up was proving to be more than difficult.
It was next to impossible.