Dream a Little Dream (41 page)

He told himself it would be a nice place for his parents and brothers to gather for summer cookouts. Legally, it was his mother’s cottage, but since she and his father were still in South America doing their missionary work, he couldn’t talk to her about his plan. She wouldn’t mind, though. Nobody minded what he did, except for Rachel. She was the only one who ever criticized him.

She was going to leave after this weekend. He didn’t know exactly when. He hadn’t asked.

What the hell did she want from him? He’d done everything he could to help her. He’d even offered to marry her! Didn’t she understand how hard that had been for him?

“Can I help?”

The boy still seemed to think that if he pretended to be Gabe’s best friend, his mother would change her mind, but nothing was going to get her to do that. She was too stubborn, too damned pigheaded, and she thought everything was so simple, that he could just return to being a vet because she wanted him to. But it didn’t work that way. That was the past, and he couldn’t go back to it.

“You can help later, maybe.”He shoved down on the crowbar. The old wood split and pieces flew. Chip jumped back, but not before a chunk nearly hit him.

Gabe threw down the crowbar. “I told you not to get so close!”

The boy made that futile reaching gesture for his rabbit. “You’re scaring Tweety Bird.”

It wasn’t Tweety Bird who was scared, and both of them knew it. Gabe felt sick. He forced himself to speak calmly. “There’s a couple of pieces of wood over there. Why don’t you see if you can build something with them?”

“I don’t got a hammer.”

“Pretend.”

“You got a real hammer. You don’t pretend.”

“That’s because . . . Look in my toolbox. There’s another hammer in there.” He returned to work.

“I don’t got any nails.”

Gabe gave a vicious shove to the crowbar. The wood screamed as he pried up another floorboard. “You’re not ready to use nails yet. Just pretend.”

“You don’t pretend.”

Gabe fought to hold onto his temper. “I’m a grownup.”

“You don’t pretend you
like
me.” The boy banged the hammer against a short length of two-by-four Gabe had used earlier as a lever. “Mommy says we still got to go to Flor’da.”

“I can’t do anything about that, “ Gabe snapped, ignoring the child’s first comment.

Chip began banging the wood with the hammer, hitting it again and again, not to accomplish anything, merely to make noise. “You can too do something. You’re a grownup.”

“Yeah, well, just because I’m a grown-up doesn’t mean I get to have things the way I want.” The banging was getting on his nerves. “Take that wood over by the garden.”

“I want to stay here.”

“You’re too close. It’s dangerous.”

“No, it’s not.”

“You heard me.” Anger built inside him. Anger over everything he couldn’t control. The death of his family. Rachel’s desertion. The drive-in he hated. And this boy. This gentle little boy who stood like a roadblock in the path of the only peace Gabe had been able to find since he’d lost his wife and child.
“Stop that damned pounding!”

“You said
damn!
” The boy slammed down the hammer. It caught the edge of the two-by-four. The board flew.

Gabe saw it coming, but he couldn’t move quickly enough, and it hit him in the knee. “God damn it!” He lunged forward, grabbed Chip by the arm, and pulled him to his feet. “I told you to stop that!”

Instead of cowering, the boy defied him. “You
want
us to go to Flor’da! You didn’t pretend! You said you would, but you didn’t! You’re a big damn
butthead!
”

Gabe drew back his arm and slapped the flat of his hand against the boy’s rump.

For a few seconds neither of them moved.

Gradually, Gabe grew aware of the sting in his palm. He looked down at his hand as if it no longer belonged to him. “Jesus . . .” He dropped the boy’s arm. His chest knotted.

You’re so gentle, Gabe. The gentlest man I know.

Chip’s face crumpled. His small chest shook, and he pulled back as if he were folding into himself.

Gabe fell down on one knee. “Oh, God . . . Chip . . . I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The child rubbed his elbow, even though it wasn’t his elbow that hurt. He tilted his head to one side and caught his bottom lip between his teeth. It quivered. He didn’t look at Gabe. He didn’t look at anything. He just tried not to cry.

And in that moment Gabe finally saw the child as himself, instead of as a reflection of Jamie. He saw a brave little boy with flyaway brown hair, knobby elbows, and a small, quivering mouth. A gentle little boy who loved books and building things. A child who found contentment not in expensive toys or the latest video games, but in watching a baby sparrow grow stronger, in collecting pinecones and living with his mother on Heartache Mountain, in being carried around on a man’s shoulders and pretending, if only for a moment, that he had a father.

How could he ever have mixed up Chip and Jamie in his mind, even for a moment? Jamie had been Jamie, uniquely his own person. And so was this vulnerable little boy he’d struck.

“Chip . . .”

The boy backed away.

“Chip, I lost my temper. I was mad at myself, and I took it out on you. It was wrong, and I want you to forgive me.”

“Okay,” Chip muttered, not forgiving him at all, just wanting to get away.

Gabe dropped his head and stared at the ground, but it was blurred. “I haven’t hit anybody since I was a kid.”

He and Cal used to beat up on Ethan. Not because Ethan had done anything, but because both of them had sensed he wasn’t as tough as they were, and they’d been afraid for him. None of them had realized Gabe would prove to be the weakling.

“I promise . . .” He pushed the words out past the boulders in his throat. “I won’t ever hit you again.”

Chip backed away. “Me and my mommy are going to Flor’da. You don’t have to pretend no more.” With a muffled hiccup, he ran toward the house, leaving Gabe more alone than he’d ever been in his life.

Rachel locked the doors to Kristy’s condo and put the spare keys in her purse, along with the bus tickets Kristy had left for her yesterday on the kitchen table before she and Ethan had taken off for their conference. As Rachel drove back to Heartache Mountain, she found herself memorizing every bend in the road, every grove of trees and patch of wildflowers. It was already Saturday, and she planned to leave Salvation on Monday. Staying any longer was simply too painful.

If she were going to move forward with her life, she knew she’d have to train herself to focus on the positive. After all, she wasn’t leaving Salvation empty-handed. Edward was healthy again. She had Kristy’s friendship. And for the rest of her life she’d have the memory of a man who had been almost wonderful.

Gabe was waiting for her on the front porch. She parked the Escort in the garage, and as she walked toward him, every limb of her body dragged with regret. If only it could have been different.

He sat on the top step, elbows balanced on splayed knees, his wrists hanging between them. He looked as dejected as she felt. “I have to talk to you,” he said.

“What about?”

“About Chip.” He looked up. “I hit him.”

Her heart jumped into her throat. She flew up the steps, but he caught her before she reached the screen door.

“He’s all right. I—I smacked him on the rump. I didn’t hit him hard.”

“And you think that makes it all right?”

“Of course not. He didn’t do anything to deserve being hit. I never—I’ve never struck a child. It—” He stepped back from her, thrust his hand through his hair. “God, Rachel, I just lost it, and it happened. I told him I was sorry. I told him he hadn’t done anything wrong. But he doesn’t understand. How could he understand something like this?”

She stared at him. She’d been so wrong. Despite all the warning signs, she’d somehow convinced herself that Gabe wouldn’t hurt Edward. But he had, and the fact that she should never have left them alone together made her the worst mother in the world.

She turned away and headed into the house. “Edward!”

He came out of the back hallway, looking small and anxious. She forced herself to smile at him. “Pack up, pardner. We’re going to spend the next few nights at Kristy’s. I’m even getting a sitter to stay with you so you don’t have to go to the drive-in tonight.”

She heard the screen door shut behind her and knew by the wary expression in Edward’s eyes that Gabe had come in.

“Are we going to Flor’da now?” Edward asked.

“Soon. Not today.”

Gabe came forward. “I told your mom what happened, Chip. She’s pretty upset with me.”

Why couldn’t he just go away? Didn’t he understand there was nothing he could say that would make this all right? Her hand trembled as she touched Edward’s cheek. “No one has the right to hit you.”

“Your mom’s right.”

Edward looked up at her. “Gabe got mad because I banged the hammer, and I wasn’t s’pose to. Then I called him the b-word.” Edward dropped his voice to an anxious whisper. “Butthead.”

Under other circumstances, it would have been funny, but not now. “Gabe still shouldn’t have hit you, even though that was a rude thing for you to do, and you need to apologize.”

Edward slipped closer to her side for courage and gave Gabe a resentful glare. “Sorry I called you
butthead
.”

Gabe went down on one knee and regarded him with a directness he’d never displayed before. Now that it was too late, he could finally look her son in the eyes. “I forgive you, Chip. I just hope someday you can forgive me.”

“I said I did.”

“I know. But you didn’t mean it, and I don’t blame you.”

Edward looked up at her. “If I mean it, do we still got to go to Flor’da?”

“Yes.” She choked out the words. “Yes. We still have to go. Now run in your room, and pack up your things in the laundry basket.”

He didn’t argue any longer, and she knew he was anxious to get away from them both.

The moment he disappeared, Gabe turned to her. “Rach, something happened today. When I . . . It was—Chip didn’t cry, but it was like he crumbled right in front of me. Not physically, but mentally.”

“If you’re trying to make things better, you’re going about it the wrong way.” She wouldn’t let him watch her fall apart, so she turned away and headed for the kitchen, only to have him follow her.

“Just listen. I don’t know if it was the shock of what I’d done, or . . . For the first time, I felt as if I were really seeing him. Only him. Not Jamie.”

“Gabe, leave me alone, will you?”

“Rach . . .”

“Please. I’ll meet you at the drive-in at six.”

He didn’t say anything, and, finally, she heard him walk away.

She packed up everything she and Edward owned and loaded it into the Escort. As she pulled away from Annie’s cottage, she swallowed her tears. This small cottage had been a symbol of everything she’d dreamed about, and now she was leaving it behind.

At her side, Edward groped for Horse, and when he didn’t find his old companion, chewed on his thumb instead.

Rachel called Lisa Scudder from Kristy’s condo and got the name of a reliable high-school girl to watch Edward, then fixed him an early dinner from the leftovers she’d brought with her from the cottage. She was too upset to eat anything herself. By the time she’d changed into a clean dress, the sitter had arrived, and when she left, the two of them were safely tucked in front of Kristy’s television.

Rachel would have given anything not to have to go to work that night. She didn’t want to see Gabe, didn’t want to think how he’d betrayed her trust, but she spotted him the moment she pulled into the drive-in. He stood in the middle of the lot with his fists clenched at his sides. There was something unnaturally still about his posture that alarmed her. She followed the direction of his gaze and drew in her breath.

The middle of the screen had been defaced with streaks of black paint like some giant abstract painting. She jumped out of the car. “What happened?”

Gabe’s response was low and toneless. “Someone got in after we closed last night and wrecked the place. The snack shop, the rest rooms . . .” He finally looked at her, and his eyes seemed empty. “I’ve got to get out of here. I called Odell, and he’s on his way. Just tell him I found it like this.”

“But—”

He ignored her and headed for his truck. Moments later, it shot out of the lot, leaving nothing behind but a dusty trail.

She rushed over to the snack shop. The lock had been smashed and the door stood partially open. She looked inside and saw broken appliances littering the floor, along with spilled soft-drink syrup, melted ice cream, and cooking oil. She hurried to the rest rooms and found a sink partially ripped off one wall, rolls of paper towels stopping up the toilets, and broken ceiling tiles scattered over the floor.

Before she could inspect the projection room, Odell Hatcher arrived. He got out of his squad car along with a man she recognized as Jake Armstrong, the officer who’d tried to throw her into jail for vagrancy.

“Where’s Gabe?” Odell asked.

“He was upset and he left. I’m sure he’ll be back before long.” She wasn’t sure of anything. “He told me to tell you this is the way he found it.”

Odell frowned. “He should have waited around. Don’t you leave until I say it’s all right, y’hear?”

“I wasn’t planning to. Just let me call Kayla Miggs and tell her not to come in.” Tom Bennett lived farther away, and he would have already left by now, so it was too late to contact him.

Odell let her make her call, then had her accompany him to inspect the damage and see if anything was missing.

The hundred dollars in change Gabe had left in the register was gone, along with the radio he liked to play when he worked, but she couldn’t tell if anything else had been taken. As she stared at the desecration, she remembered Gabe’s awful stillness. Would this send him back to that empty place he’d been dwelling in before she’d come to Salvation?

Tom appeared and, after he’d been filled in on what had happened, accompanied them to the projection room. The FM receiver that controlled the sound equipment had been flung to the floor, but the projector itself was too large for that, so the intruder had pounded it with something heavy, probably the folding metal chair that lay on the floor.