Stranger in Town. Brenda Novak

what Blaine had called him. “Basically, he’s jealous that you got the position he wanted.”

      He didn’t seem impressed that she’d driven so far to warn him. “So?”

      She blinked in surprise. “I’m afraid he might work against you, try to make you look bad somehow, make you feel unwelcome.”

      “So?” he repeated.

      “So…I wanted to tell you to watch your back.”

      Lazarus barked, but Gabe quickly and easily silenced him by putting a hand on his head. “I can take care of myself, Hannah,” he said. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

      “I know. I just…” Her words faltered. He was right. If he weren’t in a wheelchair, she wouldn’t have come out here. She would have known he could handle Coach Blaine.

      All the regret she’d felt since the accident caused a painful ache in her chest. She wanted to redeem herself somehow. Make things right. But there wasn’t any way to do that. “I’m sorry,” she said.

      Tears burned behind her eyes. She fought them as she tried to skirt past him, but he caught her wrist before she could clear the workshop door. “Hannah?”

      The warmth of his touch seemed to wrap around her like a blanket. Again she remembered that night twenty years ago when he’d kissed her. She wished he’d kiss her now, wished he could be the man he used to be. She had walked away from that accident with only a broken arm and a gash on the forehead, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever recover from the remorse.

      “I’m fine,” he said firmly. “You have to forgive yourself, okay?”

      He let go, but she didn’t move away. She wanted to throw her arms around him so she could feel his heart beating. She knew he was right. They both needed to get over the accident and move on. Only he wasn’t fine. He was sitting in a wheelchair, and he was angry and bitter, even if he was trying not to direct those emotions at her. “Gabe…”

      “What?”

      She didn’t have the right to ask him for anything, but that ache in her chest made it impossible to walk away. Unable to find words, she ran two tentative fingers down the side of his face.

      His eyes immediately riveted on hers. She recognized the raw need that flared inside them and was so surprised to see his defenses slipping, she couldn’t breathe. He looked as if he was starved for human touch, and it was little wonder. He’d lost so much. And what he hadn’t lost, he’d rejected.

      The dog whined and suddenly, the mask of indifference Gabe usually wore snapped into place. “Don’t do me any favors,” he said gruffly, rolling back several inches. “Forget about me and go on with your life.”

      She let her hand fall to her side. “I can’t forget you,” she admitted. But before he could respond, Lazarus tore off, barking, and Mike Hill strode into the backyard.

      

      STRUGGLING TO COPE with the powerful emotions that had come out of nowhere, Gabe whistled for Lazarus and focused on Mike’s approach. Hannah would leave soon and his pulse would settle. He just needed to bide his time, ignore the sudden yearning, stick with his therapy so he could eventually reclaim his life. Since the accident, he’d withdrawn from everyone, even his family. It was only natural he’d miss the closeness and the physical interaction.

      “There you are.” Mike wore a congenial smile as he petted Lazarus, but Gabe recognized the surprise running underneath that smile. Hannah would be about the last person Mike would expect to find here. Gabe sighed. What had happened to his blessed solitude? He’d moved thirty miles from town and built his cabin on a hundred acres of forested mountaintop. Evidently, he hadn’t gone to enough trouble. Without outside interference, he could deal with his problems in his own way—could even remain oblivious to the exact depth of some of his more poignant losses. But when Mike talked about horses or football or even marriage and family, Gabe realized how much he missed his old life. And when Hannah touched him, he realized how badly he craved the smell, taste and feel of a woman.

      Someday, he told himself. When he recovered….

      Gabe quickly schooled his expression to hide his irritation at yet another intrusion into his private domain. “What brings you all the way out here again, Mike?” He knew his voice fell a little short of welcoming, but Mike didn’t seem to notice.

      “I brought you the team roster.” He handed Gabe the clipboard he was carrying, then tipped his hat at Hannah. “I thought I recognized your Volvo, Hannah. How are you?”

      “Fine, thanks,” she murmured, and Gabe hoped he was the only one who noticed the blush creeping up her neck. He didn’t want her to give away the fact that Mike had interrupted them at an awkward moment. Mike would probably have enough questions about Hannah’s presence as it was.

      “How’s business?” Mike asked her.

      Gabe knew Hannah worked hard to support her two boys. He also knew she had no choice if she wanted to see them fed and clothed. It was common knowledge that Russ Price certainly didn’t contribute much to the family. He didn’t have a job half the time.

      “Pretty good,” she said. “Now that summer’s almost over, things are starting to slow down, which is good because I need to get Kenny and Brent ready for school.”

      “Is Kenny playing on JV again this year?” Mike asked.

      Gabe gave Mike a look he hoped would get him to shut up and back off. He knew what Mike was doing. Mike was trying to set Hannah’s expectations low, just in case Gabe decided to leave Kenny where he was.

      “Coach Blaine brought him up to varsity last week,” she said.

      Mike’s gaze flicked toward Gabe. “I hadn’t heard.”

      “I hadn’t heard either,” Gabe said, and made a point of adding, “But that’s perfect, since I was planning on doing it myself.”

      “Kenny will be glad to hear you think he belongs on varsity.” Picking up a tennis ball, she threw it for Lazarus. “I’ve got to do some shopping. I’d better go.”

      Mike watched her leave, but Gabe turned his attention to a game of fetch with Lazarus. He didn’t see any point in admiring Hannah’s trim figure, her long dark hair, olive complexion or wide brown eyes. His libido was on hold indefinitely.

      “Why was Hannah here?” Mike asked when she was gone.

      Gabe called out to quiet Lazarus, who’d gotten distracted by a squirrel and was barking up a tree. “No reason.”

      Mike challenged this response by cocking one eyebrow.

      “It’s the first time she’s ever been out here. She came to tell me that Coach Blaine isn’t happy.”

      “How does she know? Did she get specific?”

      “No.” Gabe accepted the tennis ball Lazarus dropped in his lap. “I’m guessing Kenny overheard something at practice. That’s all.”

      Mike frowned. “I could feel Blaine’s anger when I delivered the news,” he said, sounding almost as concerned as Hannah.

      Gabe hated being treated so differently than before. “Is that why you drove thirty miles instead of delivering the roster to the field?” he asked, throwing the ball again. “To warn the poor cripple?”

      Mike disarmed him with a slow smile. “Sorry, man. I didn’t expect to interrupt anything important—especially with Hannah Price.”

      “Mike…” Gabe warned.

      Turning his palms up in mock innocence, Mike shrugged. “I’m just glad to see you don’t blame her for the accident. What happened was Russ’s fault.”

      Except that it wasn’t Russ who’d crashed into him. Had Hannah been two minutes earlier or two minutes later—or simply waited for Russ to bring the boys back…