Her insides were hollow with apprehension. He’d brought them to his home. Why? All sorts of possibilities clamored in her brain. She couldn’t think straight.
It was so difficult, deciding who she could trust and who she couldn’t. Knowing her son’s life depended on the judgments and choices she made. Her record so far of judging a man was woeful.
Once inside Gabriel Renfrew eased the horse to a halt. “Nicky, give me your hand and I’ll swing you down.”
Nicky dismounted and skittered away from the horse as quickly as he could, stumbling in his haste.
“He won’t hurt you, I promise.” He turned to Callie. “I’ll dismount first and then I’ll help you—”
She jumped down, and like her son, shot to a safe distance. Gabe began to unsaddle his horse.
“You’re doing that yourself?” she exclaimed.
“There’s nobody else to do it at the moment. Barrow, my groom, is spending a few days in Poole with Mrs. Barrow. I won’t be a moment.”
“I’ll do that, Mr. Gabe,” a voice said from behind. He turned. A middle-aged man hurried toward them, dressed in a nightshirt stuffed into a pair of trousers and a loosely laced pair of boots. His sparse hair stuck up around a red flannel nightcap.
“Barrow! I thought you were staying in Poole until the end of the week.”
Barrow shook his head. “Changed me mind after a couple of days. Too much petticoat government! A man can’t breathe. Four women in a small cottage and three of them widows!” He gave a hunted look as he took the reins from his hands. “Don’t look at me like that, Mr. Gabe. Until you’ve experienced it, you don’t know. My Bess is a fine woman, but the fuss her ma and sisters make!” He shuddered. “And every dratted bit of furniture, every chair, every table, even the sideboard, is covered with little crocheted…things!”
He shook his head. “No, we done what we went for, caught up with her ma and sisters and hired us some likely lads for the stable.” He added with a grim smile, “I should warn you, Mr. Gabe, Mrs. B. has plans for some help in the house, too, now you’re home. I’ll be going back there come in a few days to fetch them all. Need a wagon, I will. You shoulda been there to keep her in check.”
He glanced over at Callie and winked. “Not that any man can keep my Bessie in check, but Mr. Gabe—”
“Mr. Gabe wouldn’t dream of attempting any such thing,” Gabe interrupted him. “I have far too much respect for her.”
Barrow chuckled. “Far too much respect for her cooking, you mean. And who do we have here? Guests is it? Nasty night to be caught out in.” He beamed at the bedraggled pair.
“Yes, this lady and her son, Nicky,” Gabe told him.
“Mrs. B. will be well pleased.” He eyed Nicky, then—amazingly—winked at Callie. “You watch out for that boy, missy. My missus dearly loves to get her hands on a boy.”
Callie put her arm protectively around Nicky. She wasn’t going to let any strange woman get her hands on Nicky and she had never been winked at by anyone, let alone a groom!
Rupert would have had the man flogged.
She was very glad Rupert wasn’t here. It made her ill when he had people flogged.
Barrow continued, “I’ll see to Trojan, Mr. Gabe, while you take these two into the warmth. She looks worn to a thread, poor little lass.”
The poor little lass closed her mouth. She was worn to a thread. And it was having a bad effect on her temper. She’d been ready to snap the nose of a kindly older man, only for being overly familiar. She used to be gracious and even-tempered. She would be gracious and even-tempered again, she resolved, as soon as she discovered who these people were and where they had taken her and her son. And as soon as she stopped shivering.
If she was behaving like a shrew, well, there had been provocation. Several provocations. Being dumped into the freezing sea, then being ridden over, kidnapped, and forced to ride a horse was not conducive to graciousness. Nor was constant fear.
“Yes, she’s exhausted,” the current provocation agreed. “She’s had a trying time of it, I fear. Wet, cold, lost her luggage, and she’s hurt herself into the bargain.”
“Ididn’t hurtmyself!” she said indignantly. “Your horsekickedme!”
“What, Trojan? Never!” Barrow exclaimed in amazement. “He’s as gentle as a puppy, aren’t you, my beauty?” he crooned to the horse.
“To be fair to the horse, you did fling yourself under his hooves,” Mr. Gabe said.
“Oh, yes, by all means let us be fair to the horse!” To Barrow she explained, “He just happened to be jumping that dreadful creature over my son’s head at the time. I took exception to it.”
“Mr. Gabe? Jump his horse over a child?” Barrow exclaimed in horror. “I don’t believe it.”
Mr. Gabe said nothing. A small smile hovered around his lips and his eyes rested on Callie with a lazy appreciation.
