Gabriel's Lady (Leisure Historical Romance) Page 2

  Her mother blinked rapidly to clear her large brown eyes, and her smile softened. “While I love Lily dearly, she’s not my true daughter, as you and Gracie are. And while Grace is a joy—and yes, constantly reminds us of that!—she’ll never have your practical way of seeing things and solving—”

  “And she’ll never have troublesome hair or wide, bulky shoulders, or—”

  “That’s because her daddy’s a slender man. And nobody’s prouder than Michael that you have a strong, steady hand with the horses, Solace, just as your father did.” Mama cleared her throat before she could go on. “And nobody’s prouder than I that you look and act so much like Judd Monroe.”

  Her mother, a brown-haired beauty in her own quiet way, squeezed Solace’s shoulders. “I never realized you felt so uncomfortable around your sisters, honey. You’ve always reveled in your horsemanship and your independent—”

  “But what if they’re right?” she blurted. “What if no man’ll give me a second glance because I’m bowlegged from riding bareback and—”

  “I predict, dear Solace, that you’ll attract the most wonderful, loving man of all my girls, simply because you won’t chase after him,” Mama declared in a low voice. “You’ll just be yourself. Not a woman molded by society’s whims.”

  “Or corsets,” Solace muttered. “It was my swearing to never wear one that made Lily and Grace insist I’ll never—”

  “Sweetheart, you’re only eleven! You have plenty of changes to go through—and you’ll handle them on your own terms. And maybe, now that Lily will be attending Aunt Agatha’s academy, you won’t feel so—”

  “Ugly? Boyish?” Solace remarked bitterly.

  “Unique,” Mama insisted. “In this world of pinched-in waistlines and ladylike details that exasperate you, you stand head and shoulders above every young lady I know.”

  “Now you’re saying I’m too tall!”

  “I’m saying you’re you, Solace. I still marvel at how Asa knew to name you that, for you’ve truly been my comfort—my reason for going on—during the trials of my lifetime.”

  Mama cupped her chin and gently raised her face. Solace was again reminded how very, very special she might feel if she could just believe what her mother said.

  “You’re created in God’s likeness,” her mother murmured. “You’re the very image of your handsome, loving father, as well, and no one will ever take your place. No one will ever fill your shoes or follow in your footsteps, because you’ll always blaze your own trails.”

  Mama leaned closer now, so they stood nearly eye-to-eye. “That’s an exciting way to live your life, Solace, and I hope you let no one talk you out of it. Someday soon you’ll realize how blessed you are—and how beautiful—because of who you are.”

  Dang it, now she wanted to cry because Mama had made her feel better! Was there no getting off this emotional seesaw? “Th-thank you, Mama. You really don’t have to go on and on about—”

  “I’ll do whatever it takes to make you feel worthy. If you want to go to the academy with Lily—”

  “I wouldn’t last five minutes tryin’ to figure out flatware placement.”

  “—or consider an apprenticeship in town to learn merchandising, you’ve certainly got a head for that.”

  “I want to be a trick rider. A sharpshooter like Calamity Jane.”

  Just saying those words made her blood pump hard through her body—even though her mother let out that same sigh every time. The ostrich plume on Mama’s pretty lavender hat quivered when she laughed softly. “You’ve been reading too many of those dime novels.”

  “But at least I’m reading! And you’ve heard Billy invite me to help at his horse ranch, so’s I can train my own mounts to—”

  “We’ll see, Solace.”

  She let out an exasperated sigh. We’ll see generally meant not in this lifetime. But it wasn’t a flat-out no!

  Solace fixed a smile on her face and stood taller. “I really do feel better about things now, Mama,” she said primly, “and if it’s all right with you, I’d enjoy a few more minutes of this shade and fresh air. Some of those ladies are wearing so much perfume I can hardly breathe.”

  Her mother’s lopsided smile said she wasn’t fooled, but at least this conversation had come to a satisfactory end. “Being the middle daughter—being your age—isn’t the easiest thing, honey,” she said as she turned toward the door. “But whatever you choose to do—even if you never find a man worthy of your loving, trusting heart—I’ll always love you more than life itself.”

  Once again heat welled up into her cheeks, but Solace smiled bravely. After all, Mercedes Malloy never uttered a word she didn’t mean. When her two sisters rubbed her like a badly fitted pair of chaps, she could count on Mama to champion her cause.

  As the church door drifted shut behind that elegant dress and the purple feather of her mother’s hat, a waltz teased her. Solace grinned. Though she wasn’t as dainty as Lily or Grace, she had a natural sense of rhythm that made her shine at anything physical. She slipped a small rock into the doorway so the music would soothe her as she stood in the shade.

  And, because no one was there to make fun of her, she swayed to the three-quarter beat while the chamber orchestra played a song she’d heard Lily practicing on the piano. By an Austrian composer named Strauss, she thought.

  Not that it mattered. All Solace cared about was being able to move without everyone watching her.

  Smiling broadly, Solace stepped back with her right foot and then sideways with her left. “One-two-three,” she mumbled with each measure.

  As the waltz grew louder and more dramatic, she dipped and swayed to match its mood. Her eyes closed…and as she lifted her arms to where her partner’s shoulder and hand would be, she allowed her imagination free rein. She saw Gabe Getty in her mind’s eye, just as he would be leading Letitia in this grand dance right now….

  His eyes would be shining as he smiled down at his bride, and Letitia would gaze adoringly up at him as they circled the dance floor in graceful perfection. She might not cotton to all the frippery that went with being female, like corsets and frilly underthings, but Solace still dreamed of dancing with a man who admired her, and who wanted her to dance only with him.

  As the music played on, she lost herself in an imaginary world where life went well no matter what she did or said. In her daydreams, her dance partners and the men who rode their fine horses alongside her complimented her courage and strength…accepted her for the way she trained a horse, rather than expecting her to sew stylish clothes and make inane conversation with other ladies over tea and prissy little cakes.

  And then it was Gabe she danced with in her imagination…dipping and gliding gracefully while Lily and Grace gawked in envy from the chairs along the wall!

  At least the three of them had agreed on one thing: their longtime friend Gabriel Getty had grown into quite a handsome catch while he’d been away, studying law with Mr. Bancroft. He wore his dark brown hair clipped shorter now, although an occasional curl still dangled over his spectacles. He dressed well, too, as befitted an up-and-coming man of the law, and his voice sounded low and controlled. Gabe sported sideburns now, along with the shadow of a beard where once his skin had been as smooth and bronzed as her own.

  Maybe he won’t like your sun-browned skin. He chose a hot house flower for a bride, didn’t he?

  She dismissed such a thought, because it was her story and she could write it any way she wanted. In her mind, Gabriel Getty delighted in dancing with her even though he was married now. Even though, after today, she might never have reason to see him again.

  A crescendo signaled the finale of the grand waltz, so Solace threw herself into a series of dips and turns that made her skirts billow. High on her toes she spun, delirious with the thrill of executing these moves so effortlessly, because Gabe was such a skillful dancer that…

  “Whoever your partner is, he’s a lucky man.”

  Her eyes flew open. She’d be
en so caught up in the music, she hadn’t heard the door open. Now Gabe was smiling at her, but this was no daydream! Solace dropped her arms. Her face flushed ten shades of red as polite applause filled the hall at the song’s end. “I-you probably think—”

  “I think you’re an exceptional dancer,” he assured her. “I’m glad you’re enjoying the music, but why are you waltzing out here instead of—”

  “Stuffy in there.”

  Gabe blinked. Solace Monroe had always had a quick, honest wit—a trait he found refreshing these days. “You’ve got that right,” he murmured. “And we’re not just talking about the summer heat, are we?”

  Regret stabbed his heart, not just for admitting such a thing to Billy’s kid sister, but for feeling this way. Desperation had driven him outside after another trying incident, or he wouldn’t have interrupted her play-acting. “I’m sorry I said that, Solace. I didn’t mean to burden you with—”

  “Something else go wrong? I-I hope Letitia’s all right.” She focused on him in that forthright way she had, as though she could see through his excuses. “Or is it her mother again? That woman can’t be happy unless she’s making everyone else miserable!”

  Laughter welled up inside him, a release so powerful he hurried over to hug her. “Solace, I—don’t you go running your mouth, now!—but I truly don’t understand how Arthur Bancroft is still sane!”

  “You’re worried about her running your life, aren’tcha?”

  Gabe inhaled fiercely and stepped away from her. How old was Solace now, maybe ten or twelve? Yet she’d summed up his situation as though it should’ve been perfectly obvious that…

  After two years of courting Letitia, you didn’t really believe you’d muzzle her bulldog of a mother, did you?

  He cleared his throat, wondering how much he should entrust to Solace. He’d stew his goose for sure if any part of this conversation made it back to Henrietta’s ears. “You were always a straight shooter, Solace. I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed.”

  “You dodged my question, Gabe.”

  Her heart pounded furiously at her own impertinence. This situation was none of her business, even if she had known Gabe Getty all her life. Was she acting particularly rude because he’d caught her dancing alone? Or was she flustered because this handsome man in the dove-gray frock coat and trousers had stepped out of her daydream to hug and compliment her? His spectacles twinkled in the sunlight as he studied her.

  “I’m sorry I said that,” she murmured. “Please forgive me for being such a—”

  “Nothing to forgive, squirt. You were stating the obvious.” He took in her stiff new dress and realized how uncomfortable she was today. He also realized it was a pleasure to hear someone else apologize. No whining or bossing or manipulating—not from this sun-kissed kid with the dark, sparkling eyes.

  “Too bad young ladies don’t go into the law, Miss Monroe. You’ve certainly got the sharp mind and agile tongue for it.”

  Solace blinked. Had he said she was smart? Called her a young lady? “After the chat I just had with Mama, I’m sure she’d rather see me be a lawyer than a trick rider in the circus. But it’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.”

  “No reason you can’t amaze audiences with your riding and sharpshooting,” he mused. “But I’m sure Michael and your mother would prefer…a safer kind of life than a well-raised, attractive young woman would find among roustabouts and carnival barkers.”

  Had he just called her attractive, or was she still daydreaming? Solace nodded, not sure why she felt…giddy, standing in the shade with this man of the world—who’s really just Billy’s best friend in a frock coat, talking in a deeper voice these days, she reminded herself.

  “No doubt you’re right, Gabe. Many’s the time I’ve wished I was a boy, so’s I could get out and do what I’m truly good at!”

  “And what a shame that would be. If you were a boy, that is.”

  Where was that sentiment headed? he wondered. Though he could easily imagine the fetching woman Solace Monroe would grow into, he probably shouldn’t encourage her to join the circus. She was just willful and bullheaded enough to do it!

  He’d have hell to pay if Letitia or her mother found him out here. Even though he and Solace were just seeking some sanity in the shade. Even though he was what? Ten years older than she, and a lifelong friend of her family.

  Gabe sensed he could admit the whole truth to Solace, that after his bride had nearly fainted again, during the first dance, Henrietta had whisked Letitia away to settle her frazzled nerves: bed rest in a cool, dark room. And it was not a cool, dark room in his house, even though Letitia was now his wife.

  As the orchestra struck up another waltz, he tamped down the resentment and pain he could have safely expressed to Solace. She was a kid, but she already had him figured, didn’t she? She wouldn’t judge him or lecture him about getting lost in the luster of Letitia’s blond hair, blue eyes, and her daddy’s law firm. She would state the obvious and let him kick himself.

  The music soothed him. It conjured up visions of elegance and romance, the kind Solace had been imagining, judging from the exquisite smile on her face while she’d danced alone. She was swaying to the three-quarter beat again, and not even aware of it.

  To hell with what Henrietta would think! It was his wedding day, too, and he would dance to that orchestra’s music even if his bride had been snatched from him! Why not enjoy one waltz before he subjected himself to the obligatory dances with Henrietta’s friends?

  Gabe cleared his throat and gathered his courage. Solace had the power to crush him with her rejection—or laughter—even though she didn’t know it.

  “May I have the honor—the pleasure—of this waltz, Miss Monroe?”

  Solace’s jaw dropped. The handsome man standing before her had said that without batting an eye! May I have the honor—the pleasure—of this waltz? If she lived to be a hundred, this moment would shine like a diamond in her mind!

  Somehow she curtsied without tripping over her stiff new shoes or saying something stupid. “I would be delighted, Mr. Getty,” she replied in a whisper.

  And just like that, all the pretty pictures in her mind became real. She was circling the small garden with Gabriel Getty! He could’ve asked a hundred other ladies—Letitia’s friends from the academy, or wealthy clients’ wives—but he’d chosen her!

  Hold yourself tall! BACK-two-three, UP-two-three! Smile and make pleasant conversation. Show your partner you’re enjoying his company.

  These instructions evaporated like the dew on summer flowers as she gazed up at him. Gabe was grinning at her, as though he were having a grand time instead of humoring Billy Bristol’s kid sister.

  She laughed, in spite of how improper that might be. Why hadn’t she paid more attention to the social niceties Mama had tried to impress upon her? Any minute now, she’d step on his foot, or…

  “It’s nice to see someone smiling at me, Solace. Thank you.” Gabe led her down the brick walkway in a series of simple pivots. When had this little girl grown so tall that she ducked to spin under his arm? But spin she did, and confidently, too.

  “When you came outside, Gabe, it was you I was dancing—” Solace’s cheeks flared, but it was too late to back out of her revelation. “All us girls were talking about how lucky Letitia was to catch you. I never figured it’d be me you’d dance with today, or that it’d be so much fun!”

  Fun. He hadn’t thought about fun for a long time. Gabe chuckled at her confession, not taking it too seriously: this was Solace, the outspoken one, after all. Yet he was glad he’d asked her to dance. The other ladies would expect him to flatter their gowns, or they’d quiz him about Letitia and whether he should be looking after her—as though Henrietta would allow him to.

  “Yes, it is fun!” he agreed. As he spun her toward the door, Gabe reveled in Solace’s delight…in her strong, solid body and face glowing with health…in the way she gawked at him, as someone too young to understand the comple
xities of marriage. He recalled special times he’d spent with her blended family—how different they were from the Bancrofts!—and his heart swelled.

  Was it from the pleasure he’d known in the Malloy home? Or the pain of impending regret?

  That was ridiculous, of course: he and Letitia were madly in love. She would come around to her pretty, winsome self again after all the strain of this day was behind them. His agitation came from playing his part as the groom, in a well-heeled world he was just getting accustomed to.

  Too soon the music came to a halt. Solace allowed herself one last gaze at his handsome face. “Thank you, Mr. Getty,” she said in the most adult tone she could muster. “I’ve never enjoyed a dance so much.”

  “Nor have I!” Gabe squeezed her sturdy hands. Took a last look at thick, sorrel waves that escaped their ribbon to drift around a face filled with exuberance and delight…wide brown eyes that shone with integrity and innocence beneath long, dark lashes. He almost reminded her to behave herself and follow her heart—all those adult things one said to a friend’s kid sister. But all he could manage was, “Well, squirt, I should go back inside, before—”

  “I understand,” she whispered. “Thank you again, Gabe. You made me feel very special today.”

  He nodded and entered the reception hall again. For all his years of experience presenting evidence to judges and juries, he’d been rendered tongue-tied by a tomboy’s simple gratitude. Solace had made him feel special, too. He wondered, bleakly, if that would happen again anytime soon.

  But here came Arthur Bancroft with a pointed gaze and a handful of bankers. Gabe sighed; put on a smile as he extended his hand to them. Best to leave Solace Monroe in that land of her happy imagination.

  And in his.

  Chapter One

  Six years later: the spring of 1886.

  “‘Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever,’” the pastor intoned. “Ashes to ashes…dust to dust. Lord, we commit the body and soul of Letitia Bancroft Getty into Your eternal care. Amen.”