Page 49 of The Unforgiven
“Oh? How was that?”
“I like the one in Edinburgh better because Mum used to take me there,” Emma added, her tone wistful. “Anyway, Logan and Jude had a big row, and then Jude left.”
“What did they argue about?” Gabe asked, curious what caused the bust-up between brothers.
“Well, Logan said that Jude needs to go to a method one program because he’s addicted to being heroic. Jude is nothing like a superhero,” Emma added. “But maybe that’s just his disguise.”
“Maybe.” Gabe took a deep breath and exhaled to keep his voice even. “And then what happened?”
“Jude told Logan to mind his own business. He used a lot of bad words, and then he called Logan a pouf. What does that mean?”
“I’m not really sure,” Gabe lied. He wasn’t about to explain to a four-year-old what sexual orientation meant or thatpoufwas a derogatory term forhomosexual. “Did you tell Grandma Sylvia about the row?”
“No. Logan told me not to.”
“I see. But you had a good time otherwise?”
“Yes, it was good,” Emma replied. “Logan bought me ice cream and a stuffed giraffe. I am going to call him Cecil.”
“Well, that sounds like a fine name for a giraffe. But remind me not to ask for your input on a name for the baby,” Gabe said.
“What’s wrong with Cecil?” Emma whined.
“Nothing, darling. I was only joking.”
“Anyway, I want to call the baby Aidan.”
“Why’s that?” Gabe asked. He hadn’t expected Emma to have a say in naming the baby, but she’d clearly given it some thought.
Emma giggled. “Because there’s a boy named Aidan at school,” she replied shyly.
“And you like him?”
“I think he’s nice. Don’t tell Miss Aubrey,” Emma warned, her tone suddenly serious.
“I won’t. Your secret is safe with me.”
“I have to go. Grandma Sylvia is calling me to take a bath now. Come home soon, Daddy.”
“I’ll come for you as soon as I’m able. I love you.”
But Emma had already hung up. Gabe tossed his mobile onto the bedside table and went to pour himself a large whisky. He needed to calm his nerves before calling Logan. He’d suspected, of course, that Jude was using, but if Jude was a heroin addict, Gabe didn’t want Emma anywhere near him. He wondered if Sylvia knew, but believed she didn’t realize the extent of Jude’s addiction, which was why Logan had asked Emma not to say anything.
Under normal circumstances, Gabe would have gotten in his car and fetched Emma home right away, but he could hardly leave, especially with the funeral looming tomorrow afternoon. For the moment, he had to put everything aside: Jude’s drug habit, Luke’s imminent return, and Quinn’s newfound family. Tomorrow he would see his father on his final journey. Then life would resume.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Quinn stowed her mobile back in her purse and meandered along the river. On this sunny, crisp morning, the Mississippi sparkled and shone like an endless ribbon of light. It was vast, wider than any river Quinn had ever seen, and there were many different boats, both commercial and private. She saw several steamboats docked at various points, their crews preparing for cruises down the river. Quinn briefly considered taking a cruise but changed her mind. She wasn’t in the right mood to appreciate it. In fact, she was in a terrible mood. She’d tried to reach Gabe all day yesterday, but her calls had gone directly to voicemail. She’d texted him and received a terse reply telling her that he would ring her as soon as he could. He had rung early in the morning, but she’d been in the shower, and by the time she called back, he didn’t pick up.
That wasn’t like Gabe at all. Quinn woke up every day to a loving text wishing her a good morning and telling her that he was waiting for her call. Speaking to Gabe before starting her day made her feel cherished and safe. A day without him felt all wrong, especially after her unexpected encounter with Luke. Quinn was grateful he hadn’t come round again, but he’d never been one to give up on an idea easily, not when he really wanted something. Did he want her, or was he just testing the waters to see if she was gullible enough to take him back? She wasn’t. Their conversation had left her feeling soiled and angry. She didn’t want to rehash their relationship or explain why she was with Gabe. Her private life was no longer any of Luke’s business, and she wished he’d leave well enough alone.
But Luke had spoken to Monica Fielding, and Monica, being an evil witch, would probably run straight to Gabe and try to plant seeds of doubt in his heart. Gabe Russell was a smart, sophisticated, confident man, until it came to his feelings for Quinn. He’d waited a long time for her, and although he never mentioned Luke, she knew some small part of him feared she might harbor regrets and consider taking Luke back if he evercame groveling. Now that she was carrying Gabe’s child, his fear would be even greater because he stood to lose not only Quinn, but his baby. Since they weren’t yet married, and given what had happened with Jenna McAllister, he had every right to worry.
Quinn leaned against the metal railing and stared sullenly over the water. She felt very much alone and homesick, and wanted nothing more than to book the next flight to London and leave New Orleans. She needed to see Gabe in person and tell him he had nothing to worry about—ever. Luke was in the past, and she would never, even if things didn’t work out between them, try to keep Gabe away from his child.
Quinn sighed with frustration. She would have booked a return flight today if it weren’t for the call she’s had from Rhys last night. He had set things in motion, and there was no turning back. He’d sounded brusque and businesslike on the phone, his mind already on the project.
“Quinn, sending a camera crew to the States will put a serious dent in our production costs, so I came up with the next best thing. I reached out to a freelance cameraman we’ve worked with in the past, and he just happens to be between assignments. He’ll be arriving in New Orleans sometime tomorrow. He’s based in Charleston, South Carolina, but he said traveling to Louisiana for a job is not a problem for him. He’ll call you when he gets there. His name is Jason Womack.”
