Gabriel's Grace Page 2

  Gabriel took a deep breath to calm down.

  A giant swan fountain filled with dead leaves stood in the center of the circle drive. The bushes, once shaped into various geometric and animal designs, were now bare and trimmed back. A giant silver wreath with glittering snowflakes adorned the front door. Too gaudy for his taste. Much like their winter wonderland wedding and everything else Lyra had planned for his life, it wasn’t his style.

  He still refused to shed a single tear. Only leaves fell, not tears. He blinked away the insistent moisture in his eyes and shook his head. He hated himself for getting emotional, but he was starting to feel the full weight of rejection. He grabbed the tailgate with both hands to keep from following her into the house. The cold metal calmed the threat of tears and restored a bit of balance to his emotions.

  For all his good qualities, she still didn’t want him. That’s what it boiled down to—she didn’t want his lifestyle. His son’s mother had been the same way. Of course, they’d both been too young in that relationship, but she’d also had big aspirations that didn’t involve Sweet Home.

  He walked around the side of his truck and pulled open the door. A few leaves stuck to his front window, and he brushed them off. The driveway was littered with them. He felt dried up and fallen too. Lyra had blown his heart around like leaves in the wind. What would he tell everyone? What would they all think? All he’d ever wanted was to marry someone he loved, someone who loved him back equally. He’d gone and blown it again.

  Why couldn’t she see that they were perfect for each other? He was a workaholic. She made time for fun. He lacked sophistication. She was all too willing to polish him to a perfect shine. He had a tendency to take too much control. She knew how to finagle the reins from his calloused hands.

  No, this was not right. There was more to her decision than she was willing to admit. She’d change her mind. She’d miss him. There was a side of her that liked to roll in the mud and come up laughing. Though she’d never admit it, she liked quiet moments rocking on the porch and counting stars. Without him, her life would be completely scheduled and routine.

  They were supposed to be celebrating their marriage and a baby on the way right now. He had to handle this situation very carefully so he didn’t burn any bridges.

  Instead of getting angry and flying off the handle, as everyone would expect, he’d maintain his composure. The business he owned and operated was the largest employer in Sweet Home. He couldn’t always be the good guy. He’d hardened over the years, and people expected his gruff nature and business-is-business attitude.

  Lyra wasn’t an employee, and this wasn’t a business problem. If he had any chance of winning her back, he’d have to learn to separate business from personal matters. And keep his mouth shut.

  Not wanting to stay here another minute, he hopped in the truck and shut the door, suddenly wanting to get home. His cell phone beeped its programmed “message waiting” tone. Most likely family or friends wanting to get into his business. This was only the first of many such calls he’d be receiving. Sighing, he pressed and held down the number one key that automatically sent him to his voicemail box.

  He put his truck in gear and headed in the direction of Sweet Home, trying to ignore the painful throb of his heart.

  The first message began to play, and he swallowed hard upon hearing the sultry voice of Sparrow Walker—a woman he tried to avoid. The thrum of her voice said nothing of the person attached to it. Miss Walker was five and a half feet of bulldog, and she regarded him like one of his milk trucks, always chasing him down for one reason or another. He pulled the phone from his ear as she made her lengthy introduction. As if he didn’t know who she was.

  “Mr. Hearth, I’m calling about Slade. He’s climbed the elementary school fence with some buddies, not our students, and is playing on the playground equipment. I received a complaint from concerned parents that the boys are loud. While we do allow public use of the grounds, it is in our policy that everything closes at dark and the gates are locked. I heard you were getting married today, and I don’t mean to disturb you, but you need to come over to the school and remove your son and his friends from school property. Thank you.”

  The overly sweet and high-pitched thank you at the end settled like vinegar in his stomach. Sparrow Walker was the principal at Sweet Home High School where Slade attended tenth grade. The boy hadn’t exactly been a model student lately. Given all the calls Gabe had received from Miss Walker about his son, he was pretty sure the annoying woman had him on speed dial.

  The last time Gabe had run into her, she’d treated him like one of her naughty students. She’d furrowed her brow and tapped the desk with a fingernail. Most people in town wouldn’t dare take him on like that, but Miss Walker hadn’t seemed the least bit intimidated. Still, he’d found her amusing.

  But the more he dealt with her, the less amusing she became. What he’d thought were a few minor disruptions had turned into a full-blown case of teen rebellion. While Miss Walker probably thought she was being helpful, she was only contributing to the problem. Slade was on a destructive path. No one could control him, even though his principal seemed to think Gabe possessed magical powers that would enable him to do so. There’d been no improvement this school year either. In fact, things had gotten worse.

  Remove Slade from school property? “Yeah, I’ll get right on it,” he mumbled out loud.

  Could this day get any worse?

  2

  By the time, Gabriel arrived at the school thirty minutes later, complete numbness had settled into his heart.

  The school was dark, except for the street lights that illuminated three sides. Pitch black darkness, like his spirit, shrouded the fourth side, where the football field backed up to a thick, wooded area. He laid his tuxedo jacket across the seat and then made his way to the four-foot fence that surrounded the elementary playground. What was Slade thinking?

  The boys were grouped loosely along the wooden castle bridge. He couldn’t hear enough to know what their conversation was about, but random curse words flew out and smacked him in the ear every few seconds like hungry mosquitos.

  “Slade!” he called across the fence. “What do you think you’re doing? Git your butt down from there.”

  “Just having a little tea party.”

  The other boys burst into hysterics at Slade’s sarcastic remark.

  Gabriel was not amused. “Don’t give me that. I’ve been standing here for several minutes now. I’ve seen and heard enough, boy.”

  Slade leaned forward. His lips curled up into a snarl. “You spying on me now?”

  “Actually, Miss Walker called. You should be thankful she dialed my number and not the cops. But if I wanted to spy on you, it would be my right as your parent. I’ll give you one more chance to tell me the truth. Why are you trespassing on school property?”

  A throaty laugh escaped Slade’s throat. He turned and fist bumped the boy next to him.

  “Are you looking for attention? Well, you got it. Here I am.”

  “Save your attention for Lyra. Oh, wait, Lyra got smart and ditched you.” He flipped his shaggy blond hair.

  Gabriel grabbed the fence to keep from climbing over it and going after his son. His blood boiled, and he could hear his pulse beating like a drum in his ears. “Slade—”

  “You were a fool for getting involved with such a stuck-up, fancy woman like her. Now I feel stupid for agreeing to wear a tux to the wedding...or even showing up. I saw the whole thing coming. And you know what?” The volume of Slade’s voice had risen several notches. “You deserved to get jilted in front of everyone.”

  Shock surged through Gabriel’s system. In the course of the day, he’d gone through a broad range of emotions, from happiness to sorrow to frustration and now anger. He couldn’t believe Slade was talking to him like this. The boy didn’t show respect to anyone. The numbness in his heart froze over. His voice calmed. “Miss Walker threatened to call the police, so y’all be
tter get off the school grounds.”

  “I don’t give a flip about the police. We aren’t committing a crime. Let her call them.” Slade tossed his hair again. He and his friends always managed to avoid interaction with the law, though Gabe didn’t see how. They were smart kids, but they wouldn’t be able to skirt by forever. One day, Slade would slip up and get into trouble that Gabe couldn’t get him out of.

  “You’d probably enjoy seeing me get taken into custody. Then you wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore.”

  The words struck Gabe’s heart like a bolt of lightning. Nothing could be further from the truth, but Slade wouldn’t believe him even if he denied it. He needed to wrap this situation up. “Let’s go, Slade.”

  “No! You don’t care about me.”

  His son’s words cut like a blade, but the more Slade yelled, the more Gabe thought juvenile detention might be the best solution for the boy. Nah, he’d just learn how to become a better criminal in a place like that.

  “I do care, son.”

  “I’m not your son. My parents are dead.”

  Always a response for everything. This was one of those days when having Slade put away somewhere would be a lot easier than their day-to-day battles.

  A flash of lightning split the sky. Dark clouds had gathered on the horizon. Soon it would rain, and it would be cold. Gabe had made it to the gate, but it was padlocked shut. “It’s going to storm, guys. Let’s go home.”

  “I’ll come home when I feel like it.”

  That did it. Everyone in town knew what a pain Slade Hearth could be. Only brute force would work in a situation like this. In a few quick movements, Gabriel shot over the chain-link fence. His cowboy boots kicked up wood chips as he jogged across the playground.

  “Oh, shoot! Your old man, dude,” one of the boys called out. Three shadowy figures in black dispersed from the castle bridge as fast as they could.

  Slade gripped the rail.

  Gabriel pointed a finger at him, and Slade darted from the bridge. If nothing else, Gabe intended to show his son that he wasn’t afraid of him.

  Their relationship was broken and getting worse. Between running the family business, protecting the family land from developers, dealing with his relationship with Lyra, and trying to keep tabs on Slade while pacifying Sparrow Walker, it was all Gabe could do to hold on by a thread.

  “Spank him good!” one of Slade’s so-called friends called out from a distance. The chain-link fence rattled as the boys heaved their gangly bodies over it. One of them got his shirt hooked at the top and screamed as he dangled by the fabric. The other two boys roared with laughter as they helped him out of the tangled garment. Once upright, the kid snatched it from the fence and took off shirtless after the others.

  What were their parents doing and thinking right now? Were they in as much emotional stress as Gabriel? He’d like to know what strategies they’d tried. Maybe they could work together to come up with a solution. Frustrated, he shook his head. Their sons were their problems. And he didn’t need anyone else meddling in his personal affairs.

  Slade ran from the bridge and made his way through a tunnel designed for small children. The wind was blowing hard now, and the swings moved back and forth. Another bolt of lightning lit the sky. Slade pulled his big body from the tunnel and stood. He eyed Gabe with a dangerous look and then bolted toward one of the slides.

  Gabriel moved to the end of the slide in a flash. Nothing was more important than family, and he needed to deal with his son now. When Slade saw Gabriel at the foot of the slide, he stood up halfway down and hopped off. His sneakers hit the ground with a thud, and he stumbled. Jumping from the slide was the oldest trick in the book.

  Gabe had already anticipated that move and cut back in the opposite direction. He pushed his legs hard and caught up with Slade in a matter of seconds. Grabbing the boy by the shirt collar, he took him to the ground with little struggle. Then he straddled him and held onto his arms until Slade stopped thrashing underneath him. “You gonna settle down?”

  “The wood chips are cutting into my skin. Get off!” He continued to strain and kick, but eventually, his muscles relaxed, and he gave up. He turned his head away and refused to look Gabriel in the eye. His breath came hard and fast, and his nostrils flared.

  Gabriel had gotten the best of the boy. This time. Now he had to get him to the truck.

  Slade wouldn’t make things easy. When it came to size, they were a near match. The kid was tall for his age and still growing. Soon, he’d be taller and stronger than Gabe. Their voices were similar, too. The timbre and pitch often fooled people on the phone. And the eyes...well, Slade’s eyes were like his mother’s. Gabriel shook away the thought of Angie. No doubt, her absence had some effect on Slade’s life, but it wouldn’t do any good to play the blame game now.

  Slade lay still and quiet. Would he jump up and run if given a chance? Was he even the least bit scared?

  “I’m gonna get up now. I dare you to run again.”

  Slade did. The minute Gabriel got up, the boy shoved him and tried to get away. Once again, Gabriel anticipated his son’s move. He grabbed Slade’s upper arms and held them back as he urged the kid forward. Slade started looking all around the school grounds.

  “If you’re looking for your buds, they’ve all gone. They’re deserters, not real friends. They’d sell you out in a heartbeat. So you might as well come home.”

  Slade took a sudden backward step and tried to break free of Gabriel’s grasp. “Ease up. I won’t try to get away again.”

  Gabriel hesitated but finally released his hold to a firm grip. He tensed, ready for a foot chase if necessary.

  In a few steps, they reached the fence and the padlocked gate.

  Gabriel took several deep breaths. He’d have to let go so they both could climb over. Hopefully, Slade wouldn’t take off. He seemed inclined to comply and come home—at least for tonight. Maybe the threat of a storm would seal the deal. “The weather looks nasty.”

  As if on cue, a clap of thunder made Slade flinch.

  Gabe grinned at the reflection of lightning in his son’s worried eyes.

  A black sedan pulled into the parking lot as they approached his truck. He recognized the vehicle and knew the driver all too well. Sparrow Walker. Simply thinking her name frazzled his brain. She parked in their walking path and rolled down the window. The principal wore a scowl beneath layers of light brown hair. Darker brown eyes peered over the rims of rectangular glasses.

  He held up a hand. “Now is not a good time, Miss Walker.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Hearth. Next time your son’s trespassing on school property, I’ll be sure to call your secretary and make an appointment first.”

  Gabriel stared blankly, unsure of how to respond to the spitfire of a principal.

  A streetlight flickered as the wind picked up.

  She didn’t seem to notice the gloomy weather. “Just be glad I didn’t call the police.”

  Raindrops pelted his head.

  This night wasn’t getting any better. First, he was left standing at the altar. Now, he’d had to use physical force to keep his son from being arrested.

  Slade jumped into the truck.

  Gabe followed suit and climbed into the driver’s side, ignoring Miss Walker’s snide remark. He looked down at the gearshift. What his son had done was wrong, but after the day he’d had, he really didn’t care to listen to a lecture. He peeled out of the parking lot, without a glance at the woman.

  He didn’t get far before guilt settled into his stomach. His behavior was no better than his son’s. Oh, well. Drastic times called for drastic measures. Miss Walker really didn’t know him or Slade…or what was going on in their family.

  “You sure showed her,” Slade said.

  He let his son’s remark pass. His disrespect for that woman was not the same as his son’s disrespect for all authority. As he drove on in the rain with his rebellious son reluctantly sitting next to him, he felt justi
fied in driving off without giving the principal the response she sought.

  She wanted Slade to behave during the school day so she didn’t have to deal with him. She didn’t really care about Slade as a person or about his life outside of school.

  Gabe didn’t need to take time away from his business to hear that there was something wrong with his son’s behavior. He knew that better than anyone. He’d tried everything to fix it. He didn’t want to get into it with the boy’s principal right now. Maybe not ever. Slade would eventually outgrow his raging hormones. Until then, Gabe just had to make sure his son didn’t end up in jail with something on his record that he would regret forever. Right now, he worried about Slade ruining his future. He was alone in that battle because no one else in the Hearth family seemed to care. They led their lives elsewhere.

  Garrett tried, but he was as clueless as the rest. And now he was busy planning a wedding with Micara Lee, the plant farm owner Gabriel had hired for Lyra’s benefit. The two of them prayed for Slade, but so did Gabriel, for all the good it did. God seemed to want him to figure this out on his own. The lump in his throat practically choked him, and he coughed. He’d once thought Lyra was an answer to his prayers, the missing link that would create a complete family. He wanted a family so badly. Why did Lyra have to ruin everything? He rolled down the window a few inches and let the cool air rush over him.

  He stole a look at his son, who slouched in the seat, a frown darkening his face. Trying to talk to Slade about his behavior would only lead to more argument. Whatever he said, his son would have a sarcastic response, so he let it drop. At this point, he just wanted the boy safe at home and not out in a storm after dark.

  In the haste of wedding activities, he’d left every light in the house on. They burned bright as he pulled the truck close to the door. Once inside, he flipped switches until he ended up at the bathroom, where he cringed when he caught a glimpse of his clothing in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. His dress shirt was dirty and wrinkled, and his knee showed through a hole in his slacks. He unbuttoned the white shirt and put it in a sink of warm water to soak. The pants were beyond hope—he tossed them atop an overflowing trashcan. He put on some sweats and turned out the light as he stepped into the hall.