Free Finding Gabriel by Rachel L. Demeter

pounded against flesh and bone, threatening to burst free.
    “Forgive me. I … I am so sorry.” A pale hand clasped her chest while she shook her downcast face. “I just couldn’t imagine losing Emmaline.”
    “The girl – where is her father? Or is she some knave’s by-blow?” The cruel inquiry fled his lips before he could stop it. Massaging his weathered features, Gabriel scrubbed a hand over the left side of his face. The bandage was damp to the touch. Ariah looked away to mutely glance out the window again.
    Gabriel seized the opportunity to study her. And for the first time he really saw her.
    There was something whimsical and undeniably tragic embedded within every line of her face. A distinct sadness – a mirage of painful memories – dimmed the charming blue of her gaze. Crescent moons shadowed her eyes, eclipsing their beauty. Her stare appeared blank and empty, as though seeing nothing. And if eyes were windows to the soul, her soul was very haunted indeed.
    Within the lingering silence, a strange connection transpired between them. The sheer power of it sent tremors down Gabriel’s spine. There was no denying it; he and this woman shared a kindred spirit. And she felt it as strongly as himself.
    Despite a lifetime of cool indifference, something unwanted stirred inside his chest.
    Perhaps she could see far more than he’d first imagined. Perhaps there was a darkness behind her pure façade that equaled his own. Only her scars were internal rather than flesh wounds.
    That thought was oddly intriguing.
    “Emmaline’s father is gone,” she finally replied. “Gone fulfilling his duty in the war.” Her voice was strangely monotonous and void of emotion. She was guarding a very dark secret. That much was clear. The rest remained a mystery.
    Ariah laid her ringed hand on top of the coverlet and absently meddled with the fabric. Her fingers were long, slender, and delicate. The ring bore no stone, only a simple golden band. Calligraphy spanned its length. He strained his eyes and fought to make out the writing – but his vision was blurry from the pain, leaving the letters as mysterious as the rest of her.
    “Well.” Lips raising into a strained smile, she cleared her throat and met his leveled stare. A dimple embedded her cheek when she spoke. “I best go check on Emmaline. I’m confident you’ll manage for the time being.”
    And as quickly as she’d first appeared, the enigmatic woman vanished from the room.
    Gabriel de Laurent was far from a superstitious or spiritual man. And yet the feeling he had was unshakable.
    Ariah Larochelle had found him for a reason.

Chapter Four
    The hearth was alive and flaming – a corner of warmth within a cold nightmare. Beside it lurked Gabriel’s satchel. The firelight danced across the weather-beaten surface, beckoning Ariah’s curiosity – and she desired nothing more than to ruffle through its mysterious contents. In the end, however, she’d restrained herself, deciding Gabriel’s secrets were his own.
    Miriam sat in the rocking chair, a pair of needles and yarn in her lap. Her hands were busy at work as they wove the coarse material into what appeared to be a sock. It was her own way of distracting herself, Ariah knew.
    “I tried to answer Emmaline’s q-questions as b-best I could,” Miriam said while Ariah paced the drawing room. “How is he f-faring?”
    Ariah smoothed down her curls in a nervous gesture. “Well, he is fully awake. That much is certain.”
    Miriam lowered the needles and shot her a look. “You don’t s-sound so pleased.”
    “Needless to say, he was less than agreeable.” Ariah shook her head as she recalled the man’s immobilizing stare … the decadent, husky rumble of his voice. “His pain is palpable, though pride prevents him from showing any weakness.”
    “What is pride?” Emmaline asked from her spot by the fire.
    Forcing a smile, Ariah glanced at her daughter and Oliver. They appeared quite relaxed and