Free A Damaged Trust by Amanda Carpenter Page B

walked leisurely back to the site, camera dangling from one hand as she strolled. The rest of the pictures could wait. As she approached the buildings again, a figure rounded the corner and walked towards her.
    “Good morning,” she called cheerfully. “Beautiful sunrise, wasn’t it? I got a perfect shot!”
    Gabe didn’t answer until they drew near to each other, his face more serious than she had ever seen it before, and his manner preoccupied. He said abruptly, “It was you I heard shooting into the parking lot so recklessly, wasn’t it? I’m surprised you didn’t break your neck!”
    Carrie smiled a little at that. “It was a toss-up.” Speaking lightly, she tried to pass it off as a joke. “I was so intent on getting here that I didn’t really pay attention to what I was doing. Actually, I’m surprised that I stayed on the road at all! I certainly don’t remember driving here. But I think you’ll find it was worth it. There are some real beauties in here.” She patted her camera with satisfaction.
    He retorted swiftly, his mouth tight, “Do you really think it was worth it? Do you think I would find the pictures worth it? What if you’d wrecked your car and gotten injured, maybe seriously? Would it have been worth it to you then? I think not!”
    Carrie could see that Gabriel was very angry. It surprised her very much, and it shook her up in a way that she couldn’t explain. It was as if he cared.
    “For God’s sake, Carrie,” he sounded fed up, “drive more carefully next time, even if it means that you pass up an opportunity for a good photograph!”
    She stared at him. “I’m—sorry,” she murmured blankly. “I guess I just didn’t think.”
    He looked at her sharply. Then, putting an arm around her shoulder in a casual gesture, he pivoted her on towards the buildings as he replied, “I know you didn’t, and I know you weren’t being deliberately careless. But imagine how it would feel to the rest of your family if they received a phone call informing them ofan accident that you were in. Just like that, no warning. No preparation.” Staring into her darkening eyes, he could tell he was upsetting her, and his face softened. “Just be more careful,” Gabe said gently.
    She nodded and blinked as he quickly kissed her nose. It had tickled and she smiled as she rubbed the place his lips had touched, but he was already off, striding on towards the office, not looking back. After standing for a moment and staring after him thoughtfully, she turned and began to think about where to take pictures next.
    Later, though, she found herself thinking back on Gabe’s odd show of intensity. She had not really realised how careless she had been, preoccupied as she was with the sunrise, and his telling her so had jolted her greatly. It was not a characteristic that she was used to, this active show of concern. Always before her family had been cheerfully insensitive to any kind of risk that she had been exposed to. It was not that they were uncaring; it was merely that they were remarkably free of worry. They so blithely assumed that disaster would not fall their way. Quite remarkably, it hadn’t as of yet, and so the possibility was incomprehensible, therefore impossible. And Carrie was not the only one; the Metcalfes had the habit of taking everyone in their immediate circle for granted. Childhood injuries, falling off a horse, or down the stairs, or in the pool, all were treated with the same happy assumption that the victim was all right. You were set on your feet, patted on the head, sent your own way, and that was that. Growing up as she had, it was no wonder that she felt an oddness when anyone showed worry for her benefit. It gave her a strange, warm feeling inside. It made her feel—cherished.
    Carrie tramped about the place, taking pictures now and then, and checking her camera to see how many more she had left. She was close to the end of the roll.
    Deciding to get a few of Gabe in his