Angel's Rest - By Emily March Page 0,22

Nathan to be disappointed if—”

Jennifer tugged the box from his hands, clucking her tongue. “That’s pathetic, Uncle Gabe. You have to wait just like all the other boys. Now, get back to your drawing board and design a spectacular pool and spa for Jack Davenport. He’s promised me that we can vacation there when construction is done. I’ve never been to Colorado, and I’ve always wanted to see the Rockies.”

Gabe closed his eyes and swayed as he was buffeted by a wave of grief and regret. Despite Jack’s offer, they’d never taken that Colorado trip. By the time Eagle’s Way was ready for visitors, Jennifer was pregnant with Matt. Once he’d been born, they’d decided to wait until he was older to take that particular family vacation.

Until he was older.

His throat tight, his body tense, Gabe sucked in a deep breath of cold mountain air. Memories were dragons and he had not the weapons to battle them. That’s why he’d acquiesced to Jack’s suggestion that he spend a few weeks at Eagle’s Way. Memories didn’t haunt every room of this house. Up here in this high valley, even down in town, he could … breathe.

Gabe exhaled heavily and turned away from the house. His gaze skimmed across the snow-dusted mountaintops before lifting toward the clear blue sky. Sunshine warmed his face. The tension within him eased. Jack had been right. There was something special about this place. Maybe he’d stay on a little longer.

He’d need another project, though. Something physical. Maybe after lunch he’d give the house a good going over and see if the contractor had made any other mistakes that needed fixing.

He turned to head into the house to make a sandwich, then pulled up short upon seeing the faded blue pickup truck driving the winding road leading to the house. He didn’t recognize the truck before sight of it was lost to the cover of the trees. Frowning, he tried to recall if he’d forgotten a scheduled delivery. No, he didn’t think so. The housekeepers Jack retained came on Thursdays, so it wasn’t them, either.

Gabe kept his gaze focused on the road as he walked toward the drive, and when the truck emerged from the cover of the forest, he was able to make out two figures inside the cab. Looked like a couple of women. And, as the truck drew closer, he saw a third form. A dog.

The dog. Along with Nic Sullivan and a woman he didn’t recognize. What brought them to Eagle’s Way? Maybe she was bringing him the jacket he’d left at her house last night.

She waved hello when she saw him, and he returned a nod, then motioned for her to pull around the excavator to park. The moment she opened the driver’s-side door, the boxer pushed past her and scrambled out, barking excitedly as he bounded toward Gabe. The mutt looked so goofy with his ears flopping and his crooked tail wagging that Gabe couldn’t help laughing—until the dog jumped on him. He pushed him away saying, “Hey, dog. Stop that. Get down.”

“Watch out for the mouth,” said a pretty redhead whom Gabe didn’t know. “He’s been drooling on me all the way up from town.” She extended her hand adding, “I’m Sage Anderson, Mr. Callahan. Hope you don’t mind my tagging along on Nic’s errand. I’m a painter, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to take pictures of the peaks from this perspective for my work.”

“Sure. That’s fine.” As Sage grabbed a professional-quality camera from the truck cab and headed out across the lawn, he looked at Nic and asked, “What errand?”

“Tiger, get down!” Nic said, ignoring his question to scold the dog. She shook her head and sighed. “He does have more than his share of bad habits. You’ll need to give him extra attention for a while in order to break him of them.”

Gabe opened his mouth to protest, but she forged ahead. “Wow, just look at this house. I admit I was happy to have the excuse to come up here. I’ve always wanted to see it. I hope you’ll give me the grand tour.”

“Whoa. Wait one minute. What do you mean, I’ll need to give the dog extra attention?”

She smiled sheepishly but didn’t respond.

“Explain something to me, Dr. Sullivan. What is it you don’t understand about the sentence ‘He is not my dog’?”

“I’m not the person you need to convince,” Nic shot back. She gave a significant look toward the boxer, who had plopped down

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