Vivian Arend - Rocky Mountain Angel

She met his gaze, her torso shaking. “Oh God, Gabe. Sorry—”

He caught her before she crumbled to the ground.

Something soft cushioned her head, and the smell of coffee lingered in the air. Allison rolled slowly until the memories rushed in.

“Shit.” She jerked upright to find her cowboy boots were missing, but otherwise she was lying fully clothed on a bed in a log cabin. That she was alone helped her take a slow breath and relax a tiny bit.

What a totally mucked-up day. By any standard.

She assumed this was Gabe’s new place, but until she knew for sure she wasn’t about to do anything stupid like call out. She made it to her feet and approached the open doorway warily. One quick peek revealed a tidy if plain living room with a river-stone fireplace, and basic kitchen along another wall, a solid log table with four chairs dividing the two areas.

A thermos right smack in the middle of the table held down the edge of a piece of paper. Allison stepped forward to examine it closer, grabbing for support as blackness threatened to make her knees crumble. She leaned a shoulder on the wall and hoped the head rush would pass quickly.

The door opened and Gabe stepped in. One glance, and he was across the room, his arm slipping behind her back as he guided her to a chair. “You have trouble walking these days, Allison?”

She blew out a long breath. “Hello to you too.”

“Thought we’d decided to skip the usual ‘hello and nice to see you’ bit after that wild greeting you gave me out in the field.” Gabe dragged out the chair kitty-corner to her and leaned back, stretching his long legs under the table. “Hello, Allison. I’d say it was good to see you, but you fainted and scared me half to death. What the hell is up?”

She laughed softly at his dry tone. At least part of that was easy to answer. “I can’t believe I fainted. I’m sorry. I haven’t eaten in a while—that must be why.”

Gabe stared at her for a moment, his green eyes examining her. It was a thorough, one-piece-at-a-time inspection, but she refused to drop her head and avoid his gaze. His intense scrutiny gave her an opportunity to look him over as well. He seemed more rugged than the last time they’d visited. The strong flex of his biceps stretched the fabric of his T-shirt, his chest broader than she remembered. His hair was longer, slight curls showing along his neck and his temples where the blondish-brown locks escaped the brim of his cowboy hat.

He rose and placed his hat on a peg beside the door before heading to the fridge. He pulled out items, working silently.

She stood to help him, and he glared. “Sit. I don’t need you taking another nosedive.”

He plopped a glass of orange juice on the table in front of her and turned back to the stove.

The ringing in her ears made her reach for the juice without hesitation and drink deeply. She needed a clearer head than she currently had to present her case. Her plan had been for an organized meeting under reasonable circumstances, not him having to rescue her from total panic when her horse—

She shot to her feet, glass in hand. “Oh Lord, Patches. Where is she?”

Gabe held out a hand and pointed firmly to the chair. “Sit down and drink your juice. Patches and Hurricane are shooting the breeze like old friends. I’ve got a small lean-to and a corral outside for them. I took off her saddle and brushed her down. That’s where I was a minute ago—you were riding her damn hard.”

Anger flashed along with guilt. “Stupid kids spooked her. And then I couldn’t get them to stop chasing me, and I’ll admit it—I lost it. Sorry for making more work for you.”

He made a sound that was nearly a growl, pausing in the middle of cracking an egg into the pan on the stove. “You certainly don’t need to apologize for a bunch of out-of-control brats. I’ll talk to them, and their parents. They won’t be driving again for a while.”

The nervous anxiety that had set in on top of everything else eased a little. “Is it bad to hope they get grounded until they’re like twenty-five? Idiots.”

“Doubt that long, but yeah, I’ll deal with it. Driver especially should know better. Shit for brains. What the hell was he thinking?”

“You say that a lot.” Allison wasn’t sure why the repeated phrase had registered, but it was so like what she remembered of Gabe, she had to smile.

Gabe frowned. “Shit for brains?”

“What the hell.”

He nabbed toast and popped it on a plate. “Used that phrase a lot with you this morning. If it fits…”

“What the hell fits too well, I’m afraid.” She took a moment to calm herself before smiling hesitantly. “I should start over. Gabe, it’s good to see you again.”

He slipped a plate in front of her, the smell of warm buttery toast making her mouth water. “Good to see you too. Now eat. You can explain the ‘what the hell’ business when you’re done.”

God, it tasted incredible. She shoveled the food in, barely taking time to breath. When she realized what a pig she must look like and glanced up in concern, it was to discover he was back at the stove making more.

Screw looking ladylike, she was hungry.

When he offered her a second helping, though, Allison shook her head with regret. “If I eat more I’ll explode. Only, do you have any coffee left? My caffeine levels are dangerously low—that might be why I have a headache.”

He grabbed a couple cups and a sugar pot, pushing them and the thermos her direction. “Pour me one as well. Black.”

Then he tucked into his own food and ignored her. Allison fixed him a cup and eased back in her chair to sip the dark liquid and figure out what she was going to tell him. Her past forty-eight panicked hours had come to a head, and now, with food in her stomach and safety at hand, exhaustion overtook her.

When he pushed aside his plate a few minutes later and looked up at her with interest, she still hadn’t managed to do more than mentally rumble through the same thoughts again and again. She was tired enough to be stupid. Tired enough to throw all caution to the wind and simply blurt out the words.

“I need you to be my fiancé.”

Gabe was thankful he’d already swallowed his mouthful of coffee or he would have spewed it all over.

“What the hell…?”

Allison leaned her elbows on the table and covered her face with her hands. “Oh Lord, don’t make me laugh or I’m going to get hysterical.”

“Trust me. That wasn’t an attempt to make you laugh. It was an honest-to-God question.” Still, Gabe smiled. “You feeling okay?”

She dragged her hands over her head and straightened her tangled hair, pulling it back into a ponytail and securing it in place. “Seriously? I’m exhausted, but I need to talk to you. This wasn’t how I planned it. That’s why I was riding Patches. I was going to leave you a note to contact me, and then—”

“Never heard of a phone?” Gabe pulled out his cell and tossed it on the table. “You’ve got my number. Voice mail, email. Haven’t changed since the last time we used them.”

“I’m sorry.”

Allison bit her lower lip, and Gabe had the sudden urge to lean over and smooth his hand over her cheek, to force her to relax. Actually the stronger urge was to take her in his arms and hug her because she looked so damn miserable. He’d tried to give her a little room while she ate, allow her time to get more comfortable. They had enough of a history together that he was concerned, but after that insane comment?

He was going bat-shit crazy with curiosity.

“I don’t mean to push, but you think you can get back to the fiancé thing? Because you lost me.”

Allison nodded slowly. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair. My…” She swayed from side to side for a second then growled with frustration. “I cannot figure out the best way to say this. I’ve been going for two days straight, and I thought I would have all the right words by the time I got here, but every time I start thinking everything rolls in circles and gets all muddled together.”

“I’m not going to throw you out for misspeaking. You don’t have to get it perfect. Just tell me. You want us to get married?”

Allison’s eyes grew wide. “No.”

“But that’s what a fiancé usually means.”

“I need you to pretend to be my fiancé, so that my mom will think I’m coming back to Rocky Mountain House to be with you.”

This wasn’t getting any easier. Gabe didn’t mind puzzles—he played a damn good game of chess, but it looked as if he was going to have to pull information out of her one bit at a time and assemble the pieces on his own. “You want to come back to Rocky. Why do you need an excuse? Just come back.”

“Can’t. My mom would never accept it. It’s not like I hated Rocky, but I was pretty vocal about not wanting to run the family restaurant. She’d know something was fishy if I just show up and announce I’m here to help take care of things.”

“But you don’t want to… Allison, you’re not making any damn sense. You don’t want to work at Parker’s Timberline Grill. You’ve got a good job you enjoy in Red Deer, or at least you were having a blast the last time I talked to you. Why the hell are you trying to set up some elaborate hoax to fool your mother?”

Allison leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms in front of her. Her tired expression made her look lost, like a little girl, sad and hopeless. “She’s dying, Gabe.”

Shit.

He went with his earlier instinct, reached forward and pulled her into his lap. She was stiff for a moment before she tucked her face against his neck, wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tight. He pressed one hand to her back and rubbed slowly, cradling her as he let her cry.

Surreal. He’d gone from worrying about the ranch to comforting a grieving woman in less than three hours, and the day wasn’t half over.

“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Gabe had never had a ton of dealings with the Parkers, but he knew of them, including seeing Elle and Paul, Allison’s siblings, around town. Their father’s death years ago had been long and horrid, even watching from the outside. “Your family must be devastated.”

She sniffled then leaned her cheek against his shoulder to speak quietly. “They don’t know. Mom hasn’t told them.”

He sucked in air. “That’s harsh, having to keep that kind of a secret from them.”

“It gets worse. Mom didn’t tell anyone. I found out—oh damn.” Allison sat up straight, her tension returning in a rush. “You can’t tell anyone this, or she’ll get fired.”

“Your mom?” Gabe reached behind him and nabbed the Kleenex box from the window ledge, dropping the box on the table for when she wanted it.

“My snitch.”

Hell. “Someone spilt the beans to you about your mom being sick?”

Allison nodded, that bottom lip of hers back between her teeth.

“That’s probably wrong in all kinds of ways.”

She nodded again.

Gabe thought quickly. “How about for now you don’t name no names, just, are you positive they got the details right?”

He let her go when she reached for the tissues. “This isn’t some clerical error or wild idea, I saw paperwork. Even without that, it’s someone I trust completely, someone who would know. She only told me because it’s serious, and she’s worried about us losing Mom without any warning.”

Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. “Mothers don’t always need much more of a reason than they think it’s best for us. Maybe she doesn’t want you guys to remember how hard it was to lose your dad.”

Allison sniffed. “I think that’s it. She’s wrong, but…she’s right. Losing her is going to be painful. I don’t know how Elle and Paul will take it.”

“So you need an excuse to come back. Your suggestion to fake an engagement seems extreme.”

“I know my mom. I’m pretty sure she’s doing this for our good and all, and yet—the fact she’s keeping it a secret allows her to hold on to her dignity. To remain in charge of her life. How can I barge in and rip that from her? I’ll confront her when necessary, but if she’s only got three to six months left, and I have to lie my ass off during that time to make her happy, I’m willing.”

Allison paced the space between his kitchen and sofa. Half her dilemma made sense to him now, but there were a hell of a lot more answers he needed. He spoke slowly. “So you’ll willingly lie to make her happy. But…and don’t take this the wrong way, but why would I lie to everyone I know? I like your mom plenty, Allison, and I’m damn sorry you have to face this, but…”