I know, one doesn’t normally refer to men as “gorgeous.” But there is no other word that so aptly describes Dr. Gabriel Rosen. “Handsome” would be barely adequate if I was describing just his physical appearance. Gabe makes most men look like old nags that have been ridden hard and put away wet. He has thick dark wavy hair, chiseled features, straight white teeth, and his body—well, it would be a sin to describe it in any detail. Not that I am at all familiar with it, mind you!
Anyway, my whole point is that there is more to Gabe’s looks than just the outer layer. It is the twinkle in his eyes that bumps him from handsome up to gorgeous. Imagine, if you would, two perfectly formed roses, one unscented, the other fragrant. Gabe is the fragrant flower. His manly smell stirs the juices of my soul—okay, so perhaps that is a bad analogy. Just trust me on this one—Gabe is gorgeous.
At any rate, the doorway bump wasn’t painful. It was, however, embarrassing.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, assuming full blame.
“No reason to be sorry. It’s kind of fun bumping into you.”
“You’re fun to bump too.”
Gabe grinned. “You’re a real hoot, Magdalena, you know that?”
“You should hear me holler.”
He winked. “I’d love to.”
I blushed to the tips of my stocking-covered toes. “Did you want something, Gabe? I mean, I was just leaving and—”
“I want to ask you out.”
“What?” I jiggled a pinkie discreetly in my left ear. It’s been known to give out on me in times of stress.
“You heard me. I want us to go out.”
I tried the other ear for good measure. “Out where?”
He laughed. “Out like on a date. Where doesn’t matter to me, just as long as it’s with you. How about the movies? Surely there are theaters in Bedford.”
Just so you know, Dr. Gabriel is also an outsider. He moved here from New York City about a month before the Hamptons arrived. Although he is only my age, Gabe is retired, and was seeking a quiet place in the country where he could try his hand at writing novels. Mysteries, to be exact.
“Of course there are movie theaters in Bedford.” I bit my lip nervously before continuing. “But you see, I don’t go to movies.”
“Not ever?”
I shook my head miserably. Many Mennonites do go to movies, but I belong to one of the more conservative branches. Besides, what was the point in seeing those people act on a screen, when I could see them up close and personal here at the inn?
“Do you bowl?”
“Once. They paid me not to come back.”
“Hmm. Well, we could just go out to eat. Any suggestions?”
“How about a picnic?”
“Your farm or mine?”
“Actually I was thinking of Stucky Ridge. You ever been up there?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“I think you’d like it. It’s that mountain just south of town. There’s a little cemetery up there where all the founders of Hernia are buried.”
Gabe chuckled. “Supper with a bunch of stiffs! Well, it may help supply atmosphere for the chapter I’m working on.”
“There’s more up there than just graves. Why, there’s a nice little park with picnic benches and great views of Hernia and the valley. You’ll love it, I know. Even teenagers like it up there.”
“Ah, the make-out zone.”
“That’s not what I meant!” I wailed.
He winked. “Well, you seem pretty anxious to get me up there. What say we leave here at six?”
“Today?”
“That was my plan. But of course, we could always make it some other time.”
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, Mama always used to say. Unfortunately she never said anything about dates. But since neither my hand nor my bush had seen a date in a long time, I decided I’d better jump at the chance.
I glanced at my watch. It was already close to four o’clock.
“Today will be just fine, but I was just on my way to see Joseph Mast. You know, the husband of the local woman who died last week.” I paused. Surely it was all right to tell Gabe that I was investigating the Mast case, but in the end something held me back. “So, anyway, it may take me a while. Can we make that six- thirty?”
“Super. Oh, and don’t bring anything. This is my treat.”
“You sure? I could at least bring some lawn chairs, maybe a blanket.”
“A blanket would be nice,” Gabe said, and winked again.
This time I not only blushed, I felt my knees go weak. “I’ll bring two chairs.”
“Then I’ll bring the blanket. A good picnic always involves a blanket somehow.”
I hobbled to my car while I still could.