and with enthusiasm, she explained the idea. Despite his best intentions, he listened, and for the first time in months his professional interest was engaged.
The plan had merit. With the right marketing and the right facilities, it just might work. Cavanaugh House could be a good foundation for such a facility. From what he’d seen last night, the house had good bones, which for the most part had survived the fire. The surrounding acreage offered plenty of space for what Nic had described. “The hot springs are on site?” he interrupted.
“They sure are. There are natural pools along the creek south of the house. Harry Cavanaugh picked the perfect spot to build because the breeze usually blows the odor from the pools away. The mineral springs stink.”
“But people love them.”
“True.”
He was tempted. He needed something to do. The work on the retaining wall had taught him that. But working again would mean interacting with people. Was he ready for that? He’d managed last night, but everyone’s focus had been on the fire. They’d accepted his help, and he’d been spared the questions. He couldn’t manage questions.
Nic Sullivan hadn’t asked him many personal questions. Yet. He saw them in her eyes, though.
Gabe turned to stare out the window and vaguely noted that the redhead had set up a tripod. Did he want to work again? Was his head in the right place for it? He rubbed the back of his neck. He guessed he was better than he’d been a month ago. He didn’t want to die anymore. But he wasn’t at all certain that he wanted to live, either. Taking on this project meant interacting, which meant living.
And yet the thought of those springs made his fingers itch to sketch.
He finished his coffee, then set the empty cup atop a coaster on the end table. “If I decide to do this, I would have some conditions.”
She brightened, and hope shined in the sky of her eyes. “I can’t imagine that being a problem. Celeste has already said you can name your price.”
“It’s not about money.” He folded his arms. “It’s about control.”
Standing, Nic reached out and touched his arm. “Don’t worry. I get creative people. Sage is an artist, a painter, and she—oh!”
He followed the path of her gaze and saw Sage Anderson down on all fours, her head hanging, her body trembling, the tripod and camera knocked to the ground beside her.
In an instant, both Gabe and Nic dashed for the door. She was fast, but his legs were longer and as he pulled away from her, he heard the note of fear in her voice as she called her friend’s name.
The woman on the ground shook like a tree in a gale. He saw no blood. No outward sign of trauma. Was she convulsing? “Ms. Anderson?” he called as he neared. He pulled up beside her. Touched her back. “Sage?”
Nic dropped down on her knees. “Sage? Honey, what is it? What’s wrong? Where are you hurting?”
“I’m okay,” she replied softly. Weakly. “I’m okay.”
“No, obviously you’re not,” Nic snapped. “Gabe, I keep a medical bag in the tool box of my truck. Would you get it for me?”
“No. I’m fine.” Sage lifted her head and rolled back on her heels. “Really.” Her pained gaze met Nic’s, then lifted to Gabe. He sucked in a breath. He recognized that look. It was a unique glaze of horror, agony, and guilt. He’d seen it in his brothers’ eyes the night over twenty years ago when they started the fire that almost destroyed a town and did destroy their family. He’d seen it in the eyes of the man who’d confessed the terrible truth about a planned attack on America that ultimately led to Gabe’s “death.”
For the past nine months, he’d seen it every time he looked in the mirror.
She cleared her throat. “I … uh … must have been another pesky acid flashback.”
“Yeah, right,” Nic replied. “This from Eternity Springs’ resident health nut. You tell me what happened right now or I’m loading you into the truck and laying rubber to a hospital.”
Gabe noted the long-distance lens on the camera as he reached out and took Sage Anderson’s hand, helping her to her feet. “You saw something in your viewfinder, didn’t you?”
She nodded. Shuddered. “It was … nature. A fox brought down a rabbit. I don’t know why it hit me that way. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Nic gave her friend a relieved hug, and while the two