The Rebel

The first was of Napoleon, Skye’s assistant. His features were carved into a huge oak tree and into the craggy mountain behind it. Strength and endurance fairly shouted from the powerful painting, yet doves and a lamb rested among the tree branches and flowers grew at its base. Seeing the painting, Belle’s feelings about Napoleon subtly shifted. Rather than thinking of him as mean-looking, she saw him as powerful and fierce, but gentle and protective at the same time.

The second portrait was Mason and, while it was very different, it was no less awesome. On canvas, Mason became a wizard with a display of colored light circles illuminating the background. Each circle contained a different symbol, some Belle recognized, some she didn’t. A pied-piper sprightliness seemed to draw her to the twinkle in his eyes.

“Did she capture you?” Belle asked Mason.

“Absolutely. I’m astounded every time I look at it. Something stirs deep inside me.”

The third painting was of a little girl, a blond fairy clad in wispy drapes of moonbeams, lying prone beside a glade’s misty pool and surrounded by every type of animal from tigers to bunnies. The creatures seemed enamored of the fairy child, whose finger trailed in the water and spread ripples over the still surface.

A feeling of familiarity tugged at her, but Belle couldn’t name the subject. “Who?”

“Skye,” Gabe said. “She was about four or five.”

“No wonder she became a vet,” Belle said. “Wow.”

“Wow, indeed,” Mason said.

Feeling both energized and a bit drained, Belle moved on to look at the other paintings. None compared to Flora’s.

By the time they’d completed the perimeter, Flora had finished with her conversation, and they went next door to the health food store.

“Are you feeling tired?” Gabe asked.

“Not at all,” Belle said.

Flora introduced Belle to Daisy, the owner of the health food store. Daisy’s name suited her perfectly. A short, no-nonsense person, the owner was a trifle plump with an open, smiling face and a headful of white ringlets. While Flora bought cereal and honey, Belle looked among the shelves for a few things.

“What are you looking for?” Gabe asked.

“Something to replace all the good stuff killed off by the antibiotics that I took in the hospital. And I need to detoxify.”

“Sounds painful.”

Belle laughed. “Not really.”

Daisy joined them, offering help. When Belle related her needs, Daisy said, “I know just the thing.” She grabbed a couple of bottles from the shelf, bustled to a rounder of pamphlets and pulled several. “These tell you everything you need to know. And I’d suggest some of our yogurt as well. It’s made just down the road, and it’s excellent. Delivered this morning.” She retrieved two containers from the cooler. “Are you going to be with us long?”

“I hope not,” Belle said.

Daisy and Flora both lifted eyebrows.

“Is that a reflection of our hospitality?” Gabe said, clearly amused.

“Oh, no. That came out wrong. The hospitality is first-rate, but I’m only here to get back on my feet after an illness. I’m hoping I’ll be stronger in a few days.”

“Or a few weeks,” Gabe said.

“Wimberley has a special healing power,” Daisy said.

“You’ll be back up to snuff in no time. Why, just look at me. When I came here, the doctors said I had less than a year to live.”

“I’m so sorry,” Belle said.

“Don’t be,” Daisy replied with a grin. “That was fourteen years ago. I’m fit as a fiddle—except for my middle.” She laughed at her own joke and rang up their purchases. “The ice-cream shop next door is my downfall.”

“My mother owns an ice-cream shop in my home town,” Belle told her. “I love the stuff, too. Banana nut sends me into ecstasy.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” Gabe murmured beside her ear.

A sudden flush warmed her, and Belle glanced quickly at Flora and Daisy, but they hadn’t heard. “Down, boy.”

Gabe laughed. “Yes, ma’am. And for the record, chocolate does it for me. Want to stop in for a scoop? Or two?”

“Not today. I’m fading fast.”

“Damn! Sorry I didn’t pick up on that,” he said, scowling. “Let me get you to the car.”

From his fierce expression, Belle was afraid that he’d throw her over his shoulder and take off. “Take it easy, Gabe. I’m okay. Just getting a bit tired. I’ve gotten too used to my afternoon nap.”

“You’re pale as a ghost. I’ve let you do too much too soon.”

“I’m fine, Gabe. Honestly.”

He ignored her protests, grabbed the bags of merchandise and steered her out the door, leaving his mother to trail after them. He refused to listen to her objections and installed her in the front seat and began buckling her seat belt.

She slapped his hands. “I can do that!”

“Feeling out of sorts, are we?”

She bit back a snotty reply. She felt six years old again, and she didn’t like it.

Belle had thought her brothers overly protective, but Gabe could hold his own with any of them. Her brothers’ over-bearing behavior had always rankled, but after years of hissing and spitting on her part, they’d finally learned to back off and keep their mouths shut. Most of the time. She hated coddling. She was tougher than a two-dollar steak, and she didn’t need to be carried around on a silk pillow. The sooner Gabe Burrell figured that out, the better things would be.

Chapter Five

He’d done it again, Gabe thought. Belle couldn’t have made it any plainer that he’d scored high on her irritation factor. “Sorry,” he said. “I promised Sam that I’d look out for you, and I don’t want that guy on my case.”

“Better him than me. I’m twice as mean as Sam on his worst day.”

He laughed. “I can’t believe that.”

She smiled, and his heart did a little flip. “Believe it. I really do appreciate your concern and your attentiveness, Gabe, but I don’t respond well to mollycoddling.”

“I’ll try to remember that, but I’m a natural born mollycoddler. Be patient with me, Miss Belle.” He tried his best to look pitiful.

She didn’t look as if she bought his act. She rolled her eyes and snorted in the same way his sister did when he tried to talk his way around her.

“Want some ice cream?” he asked, nodding toward the shop down the way.