Free Gabriel's Angel by Nora Roberts Page B

window, Gabe started around the cabin to meet the visitor.
    He didn’t make a conscious decision to protect the woman inside. He didn’t have to. It was the most natural thing in the world.
    â€œHow ya doing?” The cop, his full cheeks reddened by wind and cold, shut off the engine and he nodded to Gabe.
    â€œWell enough.” He judged the trooper to be about twenty-five and half frozen. “How’s the road?”
    Giving a short laugh, the trooper stepped off the snowmobile. “Let’s just say I hope you’ve got no appointments to keep.”
    â€œNothing pressing.”
    â€œGood thing.” He offered a gloved hand. “Scott Beecham.”
    â€œGabe Bradley.”
    â€œI heard somebody bought the old McCampbell place.” With his hands on his hips, Beecham studied the cabin. “A hell of a winter to pick for moving in. We’re swinging by to check on everybody on the ridge, seeing if they need supplies or if anyone’s sick.”
    â€œI stocked up the day of the storm.”
    â€œGood for you.” He gestured toward the Jeep. “At least you’ve got a fighting chance in a four-wheel drive. Could’ve filled a used car lot with some of the vehicles towed in. We’re checking around on a compact, an ’84 Chevy that took a spin into the guardrail about a quarter mile from here. Abandoned. Driver might have wandered out and got lost in the blizzard.”
    â€œMy wife,” Gabe said. In the doorway, Laura opened her eyes wide. “She was worried that something had happened to me and got the idea of driving into town.” Gabe grinned and drew out a cigarette. “Damn near ran into me. At the rate things were going, I figured it was best to leave the car where it was and get us back here. Haven’t been able to get back out to check on the damage.”
    â€œNot as bad as some I’ve seen the last few days. Was she hurt?”
    â€œNo. Scared ten years off both of us, though.”
    â€œI’ll bet. Afraid we’re going to have to tow the vehicle in, Mr. Bradley.” He glanced toward the house. His voice was casual, but Gabe sensed that he was alert. “Your wife, you say?”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œName on the registration was Malone, Laura Malone.”
    â€œMy wife’s maiden name,” Gabe said easily.
    On impulse, Laura pushed open the door. “Gabe?”
    Both men turned to look at her. The trooper pulled off his hat. Gabe merely scowled.
    â€œI’m sorry to interrupt—” she smiled “—but I thought the officer might like some hot coffee.”
    The trooper replaced his hat. “That’s mighty tempting, ma’am, and I appreciate it, but I have to get along. Sorry about your car.”
    â€œMy own fault. Can you tell us when the road will be open?”
    â€œYour husband ought to be able to manage a trip into town in a day or two,” Beecham said. “I wouldn’t recommend the drive for you, ma’am, for the time being.”
    â€œNo.” She smiled at him and hugged her elbows. “I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere for a little while yet.”
    â€œI’ll just be on my way.” Beecham straddled the snowmobile again. “You got a shortwave, Mr. Bradley?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œMight not be a bad idea to pick one up next time you’re in town. More dependable than the phones. When’s your baby due?”
    Gabe just stared for a moment. The pronoun had stunned him. “Four or five weeks.”
    â€œYou got yourself plenty of time, then.” With a grin, Beecham started the engine. “This your first?”
    â€œYes,” Gabe murmured. “It is.”
    â€œNothing quite like it. Got myself two girls. Last one decided to be born on Thanksgiving. Hardly had two bites of pumpkin pie when I had to drive to the hospital. My wife still says it was my mother’s sausage stuffing