I watched him as he spoke, a wistful happiness in his expression, and I wondered what it’d be like to have memories that made you feel like that. Memories that brought happiness instead of fear and loneliness and sorrow. And I couldn’t help wondering at the depths of Gabriel’s despair when he’d finally made it home after all those years of being locked in a dark, lonely basement, only to experience the loss of that happiness all over again. “He sounds like such a good man,” I whispered.
His eyes met mine. “Yeah, he was the best.” The stark love in his expression when he spoke of his father jolted something inside me, and for a breath of a moment I found myself afraid for him—for his vulnerability and pure heart. Afraid of how the world would hurt him. But that was ludicrous. He’d already been hurt—in the most unfathomable way possible. So how did he retain that gentleness? The shy tenderness? How did he still wear his heart on his sleeve the way he did? And why would he want to? I couldn’t begin to understand.
Silence lingered between us, clunky and awkward as if we were both waiting for the other one to speak. Finally, I nodded. “Well, good night, Gabriel.” I started to turn.
He took a step forward. “Aren’t you hungry? You missed dinner. I could make you something.”
I shook my head. “No, thank you. I’m just … extra tired today.” I turned. I didn’t really feel tired. What I felt was confused and scared, and most of all, deeply worried that I’d begun to fall in love with Gabriel. Oh, Ellie, you fool. You stupid fool.
That night I didn’t dream about dark corridors that grew gradually smaller. Instead I dreamed about moonlight on bare skin, hands that caressed, a mouth that explored all the secret places of my body, and angel eyes in the dark. I woke heated and panting, a cry of pleasure on my lips, reaching for someone who wasn’t there.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Don’t stop yourself from dreaming. Dreams are what keep our hearts alive.
Lemon Fair, the Queen of Meringue
ELLIE
I slept in the next morning. I’d tossed and turned all night, unable to find sleep after my erotic dreams, and I simply couldn’t drag myself out of bed at sunrise. When I finally did limp out of my room after a quick shower, I turned in the direction of the garage, where I could hear Gabriel working. “Good morning.”
He looked over his shoulder, his smile immediate. “Good morning.”
I walked slowly to the table where William sat, feeling just a little bit uncomfortable, wondering if Gabriel was thinking about what had happened the night before, wondering if it showed on my face that I’d spent the night dreaming about him. Could he tell that I felt extra vulnerable and slightly confused, and that I was so aware of him that my cheeks were flushed? And yet underlying the awkwardness, there was a strange sort of excitement that I didn’t know how to categorize. Did he know? Gabriel’s expression didn’t tell me anything, and so my eyes moved to William. “He has ears.” I tilted from one side of the statue to the other as I took in the perfect little shells.
Gabriel chuckled. “And eyebrows. I need to go to my studio at the quarry to get a few things to finish him. Do you feel up to coming with me?”
“The quarry. Oh, uh, okay. Sure.”
Gabriel smiled. “Let me just grab my keys. It’s literally a three-minute drive from here. We can have coffee and breakfast when we get home?”
I nodded and when Gabriel went back inside, I ran a hand over William’s rough head, my lips tilting up as I traced a finger over one of his still-new ears. He seemed like a little miracle to me. I still couldn’t believe he’d been created as if from nothing at all. And yet here he was. “Sweet little man,” I murmured, laughing softly at myself, feeling silly.
I straightened up, pulling my hand back when I heard Gabriel approaching the garage. A few minutes later and we were turning around in the driveway, headed toward the road.
When Gabriel had helped me up into the cab, he didn’t seem stiff, which made me remember the first time he’d helped me out of the truck two weeks before. I thought about all the small touches, and the way he seemed to feel more confident around me by the day. Maybe I really was providing him some therapy, though it wasn’t purposeful. I liked the idea of that; it made me feel a little less useless, a little less … indebted to him.
A couple of minutes later we pulled off the highway into a parking lot with a large sign that read, dalton morgan quarry. Gabriel pulled into a spot directly in front of a commercial building. The area was heavily wooded to the right of and behind the shop, to the left there was another smaller building, and beyond that, I could see a glimpse of a large canyon, which must be the quarry.
Gabriel reached up and grabbed my crutches from behind the seat, leaning them against the truck and then taking my hand as I stepped down. The air had turned cooler in the last few weeks as fall swept in, but the sun was warm on my skin as Gabriel led me away from the front door of what looked like a showroom and offices and down a side path. In the distance, I could hear the hum of machinery and the shouts of men working in the quarry. Their voices echoed and carried.
Gabriel pulled a door open on the other side of the shop, and I followed him inside to a wide-open space with several tables around the perimeter of the room. There was a large window on the back wall that had a view of the trees beyond.
I walked slowly around, looking at carved pieces here and there, a few on the tables, some leaning against the walls, and others on a large industrial set of shelves. Some pieces were half-done, and others looked complete. I was speechless as I studied them, swallowing heavily as my eyes were pulled from one to the next. Gabriel was … my God, I hadn’t even realized the depth of his talent.
I stopped in front of a flat piece of rock with the face of a boy, eyes closed, emerging from the middle as if he were pushing through the hard barrier, desperate to reveal himself. It looked like a young Gabriel, and I wondered if it was a sort of self-portrait. Something about it made my throat feel clogged. I ran a finger delicately over the boy’s cheek and then moved on, looking at a small dog with only one ear, and a rose that looked as if the stem had broken off.
“Most of these are things I did when I was younger … still learning,” Gabriel said from beside me, and I startled slightly, having almost forgotten he was there. I glanced at him, one hip leaning against a table, his hands in his jean pockets as he watched me look at the things he’d created.
“They’re beautiful.” Wonderful. Amazing. Impossibly magical. “You’re …” I almost told him he was beautiful, too, but stopped myself, the words left dangling in the air. I felt sure he knew exactly what I’d been about to say. You’re beautiful. Examining the things that spoke of Gabriel’s incredible talent made me feel brittle, vaguely ridiculous. Made me wonder again what this man saw in me and why. He possessed the ability to bring forth life from rock, to summon beauty from stone, and I … I took my clothes off for men and let them watch my tits bounce. Gabriel was a brilliant artist and I was a disgusting, talentless joke.
I turned, obviously startling Gabriel, who looked suddenly surprised, moving away from the table and standing to his full height. “Did you get what you need?” My voice sounded cold, and I grimaced inside.