Then she began humming softly.
He smiled.
For a moment, he felt peaceful.
Then the memory of Edmund Vale returned.
The letters.
The threats.
The possibility that the man might appear before the child was born.
Gabriel's expression hardened.
He knew he couldn't protect Clara from every danger.
But he could prepare.
He needed to speak with Finch again.
Make sure the ranch records were in order.
And consider what would happen if Edmund attempted to challenge Clara's ability to care for the baby.
Gabriel wasn't interested in fighting a wealthy man merely to prove himself stronger.
He wanted to understand the law.
Preserve the truth.
And protect the people who depended on him.
He rose carefully.
Pain shot through his knee.
He cursed softly.
Then reached for the bedpost.
A moment later, Clara appeared in the doorway.
She stopped.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Gabriel Morrow."
He froze.
She folded her arms.
"What did Martha Bell say about resting that knee?"
He looked embarrassed.
"I was only—"
"Standing."
He sighed.
"Yes."
She approached.
Then pointed toward the bed.
"Sit."
Gabriel stared.
For a moment, he looked as though he might argue.
Then he sat.
Clara nodded approvingly.
"Good."
He smiled.
"You're enjoying this."
She raised one eyebrow.
"Immensely."
He laughed.
She set a tray beside him.
Bread.
Coffee.
A little preserved fruit.
He looked toward it.
"Breakfast in bed?"
Clara smiled.
"Don't become accustomed to it."
He laughed again.
Then looked up.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, the room became quiet.
Clara's expression softened.
Gabriel reached toward her hand.
She let him take it.
He looked at her for several seconds.
Then whispered, "Thank you."
She smiled.
"For breakfast?"
He shook his head.
"For waiting."
Her eyes filled.
She sat beside him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Gabriel gently touched her cheek.
Clara closed her eyes.
His hand was rough from years of work.
But his touch was extraordinarily careful.
He leaned closer.
Then stopped.
His expression was uncertain.