Free A Week From Sunday by Dorothy Garlock Page B

miserably as Quinn approached.
    “You’ll have to practice,” Quinn joked.
    “It’s a hell of a lot harder than it looks,” the Cajun growled.
    “How does the hand feel?”
    “Throbs a little bit, but it’s nothing a drink or two won’t take care of.” With a wink, he added, “But that doesn’t mean I won’t go and visit our beautiful doctor again.”
    “What you need to do is go over there and tell the woman how you feel about her. She can fix your busted mitt, but she can’t read your mind.” The two men had had a long-standing discussion about Gabe’s romantic interest in Sarah Bordeaux. From the moment she’d come to town, he’d been smitten, even though she was happily married. He knew it was a hopeless love. His interest in her had never been brought out into the open for fear that she would reject him. He’d never let his feelings be known to anyone other than Quinn. Hardly a week went by without Quinn trying to prod him into action. So far, Gabe had resisted.
    “The time will come,” Gabe said matter-of-factly.
    “Don’t wait until you’re as old as Roy over there,” Quinn said with a thumb toward the old drunk. “Somehow I don’t think she’ll be very interested by then, especially if you smell as bad as he does.”
    For the next hour, the two men worked together behind the bar, drawing mugs of beer and pouring drinks. The cash register bell rang loudly with every sale. Between customers, Gabe filled Quinn in on the Whipsaw’s inventory, particularly an accounting of the tavern’s liquor supply. It showed that they would have enough to last for at least five days, or until another purchasing run could be made.
    “What about
la petite belle fille
?” Gabe asked, the French of his Cajun upbringing resurfacing. “How did it go introducing Adrianna into the household? Was Jesse up for it?”
    “That went about as well as could be expected,” Quinn admitted.
    “Well,
mon ami
. . .”
    “Well what? Why don’t you come right out and ask?”
    “I don’t have to. You know what I mean. Did Lola pitch a fit?”
    “No, she was quite decent.”
    “When you were around,” Gabe snorted.
    “I think Annie will be able to hold her own with Lola.”
    “Annie? I bet she likes that.”
    “She wasn’t too happy about it, but I can’t get my tongue twisted around ‘Adrianna’ all the time. Besides, I think ‘Annie’ suits her.”
    “Why don’t you give Lola a week off?” Gabe grinned mischievously.
    “Why would I want to do that? She might quit. Then what would I do when Miss Moore leaves?”
    “Don’t worry about Lola quitting,” Gabe hurried to say. “She’ll stay there hoping to get her hooks into you. She likes your nice house. It’s a palace compared to the one she grew up in.”
    Quinn put his hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “Give this ol’ boy some credit for knowing the ways of women.”
    “I don’t think you know them as well as you think you do. Lola is not going to give over to Adrianna easily. She’ll do her best to turn Jesse against her by making herself look good. She’ll find fault with Adrianna every chance she gets. Keep your eye on her. Adrianna may not have come up against such a cat as Lola.”
    “Dr. Bordeaux wants Jesse to get outside more. He spends most of his time reading. I’m going to build a ramp out the back door so if Annie can persuade him to go out, she can take him out by herself. That is, if she can get him into the chair.”
    “Readin’ isn’t all bad. He might get to be as smart as me.”
    “Hell, that wouldn’t take much.”
    “Watch your mouth,
mon ami.
Some dark night you might find yourself a meal for the gators.”
    “It seems the last few years those damn gators are getting braver and braver. I saw one walking along Taylor Road the other day.”
    “He wasn’t far from the bayou.” He chuckled.
    Quinn had discussed Jesse’s depressed attitude about his injuries with Gabe. His friend always put the best face on everything