Allison slipped in next to him, curling under his arm as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “This is a nice surprise.”
“I’m only here for a minute.” She pulled the baby monitor out of her pocket and shook it in the air. “We have a miracle happening. They’re both down for a nap at the same time.”
“Why are you wasting it on me?” he demanded. “Go sleep.”
She squeezed him quickly then held out his phone “You forgot this in the house at lunch. I was trying to message you.”
Well, damn. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s April. We’re all a little sleep-deprived,” she said with a laugh. “I couldn’t figure out why the coffee table was vibrating.”
He slipped the phone in his pocket. “Do I need to read the text?”
She shook her head. “Just remind Rafe he’s having supper with us. Laurel and Dana have something at the church tonight, so I figured he may as well stay and help eat stale leftovers.”
Which was a bunch of nonsense. Allison’s family might use a talented chef at their local restaurant, but she had her own recipes that knocked his socks off. Plus, she liked cooking, so it was a good thing he had plenty of hard physical labour to keep him in shape. “Will do.”
She went to give him a quick kiss, but Gabe wasn’t having any of that. He caught her tight and lingered over the connection. The sweet, giving way she lifted up on her toes and enthusiastically gave back set his heart pounding and pushed away the cold.
He enjoyed the moment, and the next as she stepped away, his gaze pinned to her swaying hips. Even somewhat hidden under the layers, he couldn’t keep his eyes off.
One contented sigh later, he headed back to work and the strange tangle of discomfort he needed to deal with.
Discomfort caused by working alongside his uncle.
Gabe couldn’t fault Blake for the scheduling—he’d tried his own hand at it once and knew it was complicated as all get out to keep everyone lined up and working efficiently.
But it sure seemed as if Uncle Mark had been on Angel land a lot over the past couple weeks.
First, though, Gabe got a hold of Rafe on the phone, trying to push away the uneasy edge poking at him. “What time do you think you’ll be done?”
A nicker of a complaint rang in the background before Rafe answered. “Another couple of hours for sure. Add in a good forty-five minutes to get back to your place. That okay?”
“Definitely. Allison wanted to remind you you’re sticking around here. She’s got a liver-and-lima-bean casserole she wants to feed you.”
“If Allison made it, I’ll eat it.” Rafe chuckled. “Honestly, right now, if you made it, I’d eat it. I’m starving. What is it about the cold weather that makes my appetite triple?”
“It’s your growth spurt,” Gabe teased his little brother. “When you finally get out of adolescence—”
“Shut up.” But Rafe said it with a laugh before going a little more serious. “What’s Uncle Mark up to today? Do you think Blake’s deliberately putting him out at our place? What do you think of him?”
“He’s dealing with supplies. Yes. And I’m not sure yet.” Gabe hesitated and then expanded on that last one. “Okay, that’s not quite true. I like him, Rafe. He is a damn hard worker. I mean we’ve worked around Uncle Mike and Uncle Randy for years, but it’s kicking my butt to keep up with Mark.”
Rafe chuckled. “That’s because younger brothers have way more energy.”
“Asshole.”
“Jerk.” Someone shouted in the background. “We can continue this scintillating conversation over dinner. Tell Allison I love her, and I will be there with my lima-bean-eating fork at the ready.”
Gabe was still laughing as he worked his way over to his final task of the day.
He paused before diving in, though, tucked around the corner far enough back that Mark couldn’t see him. Gabe stood and watched while something increasingly uncomfortable built in his chest.
Mark was hauling sacks of feed off a pallet, carrying them across and stacking them in a dry, secure location. Each one he picked up just emphasized his strength—and Gabe was struck with a contrasting image of his own father before he passed on.
Ben had been old. Crooked in his soul, crooked in his body. He hadn’t been able to lift a heavy weight like that for years, but Gabe would never have held that against him if it hadn’t been for the bitterness in his heart.
Heck, Uncle Mike was older. And while he didn’t try to outlift his sons anymore, he also didn’t complain, or scold, or blame.
Watching Mark move made Gabe have to come face-to-face with a part inside him that regretted his relationship with his father. Nothing he could’ve done to fix it—the break had been on Ben’s side—but that didn’t reduce the pain.
To add to his burden, Gabe had heard the rumours from the girls regarding some incident involving his mother and uncle. Allison had told him to mind his own business when he had wanted to march over and demand to know exactly what Mark had done. Her cooler head had prevailed, and now he was glad.
Uncle Mark had been around Rocky for over a month, and judging the man by his day-to-day action made it easier for Gabe to admit that maybe having him there was a good thing.
As Gabe joined him, Mark offered a brief smile and head tilt. “Hoped to have this done before you showed up.”
“You’re gonna make me look like a slacker,” Gabe offered dryly, stepping aside to let the other man pass with his burden before joining in the queue. “I don’t mind a little weightlifting on a cold day. Gets the blood pumping.”
“Ha.” The bag smacked into position on top of the others, and Mark turned back with a grin. “Your grandfather used to say that about a lot of things. Gets the blood pumping. He used it on cold days, on hot days, on boring days—”
“Boring days?”
Mark hefted another bag onto his shoulder. “You know, the twenty-third pass of the field in the spring when you’re finally able to stop until the first cut? He’d tell us ‘quiet contemplation is good for a man. Gets the blood pumping to ponder for a while about all the things he can accomplish’.”
There was another twinge of remorse. Gabe loved hearing stories about his grandfather, but it was usually Uncle Mike or Uncle Randy who shared them. Gabe had wondered if there’d been a bit of judicious editing going on.
“Did my dad get along with Grampa Royce?” The question surprised Gabe as much as Mark.
The other man lowered the bag on his shoulder a little less vigorously, seemingly lost in thought. “They didn’t not get along,” he said slowly. As if he was choosing his words carefully. “Ben liked to do things his own way. That didn’t always fit well with your grandpa.”
Gabe worked silently for a moment before Mark spoke again.
“Your grandfather, like all of us Coleman men, wasn’t always right. Some of the times, what Ben wanted wasn’t out of line.”
It was the fairest, kindest thing Gabe had heard anybody say about his father in a long time. He met Mark’s gaze. “Thank you for that.”
Mark looked uncomfortable. And Gabe really didn’t want to start in on another conversation that would make him uncomfortable as well, so he changed the topic. “Want to stay for supper?”