Gathering Clouds

By Sandra S. Kerns

Dreams and desires are different for everyone. They can be simple or complicated. Sometimes life has been so hard we forget what it means to dream about anything. Who has time for desires with all it takes to just keep our heads above water? Such is the case for Gabrielle and Theo. Two people with such different outlooks on life and people it’s amazing they even meet. But sometimes our dreams make us do desperate things.

Gabrielle can’t let her restaurant close after fifty years of uninterrupted service. She is desperate. Her head chef is walking out and she needs a new one to stay open. If she loses the Silver Lining it would kill her. She needs someone willing to start immediately, but all the talented chefs already have jobs. A friend recommends a man just released from the prison where she works. Word was he planned to return to Colorado. Can she put her dream in the hands of an ex-con?

Theo returned to his hometown in hopes he had been forgotten. His only desire is to get work in a kitchen and live as invisibly as possible. Jobs are hard to come by for an ex-con. When a petite pixie walks into the gym and offers him one, Theo doubts it has anything to do with his culinary skills. After spending three years in prison for trying to help someone, he has no intention of doing anything that might land him back there. Unfortunately, what he wants and what he gets are usually in direct opposition to one another.

Can Gabrielle trust the Silver Lining to a man who only sees clouds looming on the horizon? Can Theo learn to trust enough to help someone again? Will they both be victims in the twisted games of others?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandra S. Kerns
• Release date: Jan 27, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310633126

Sandra S. Kerns

Sandra writes romantic suspense. She enjoys speaking to writer's groups as well as libraries and reader groups. An award-winning author, she has no time to rest on her laurels. To keep her readers happy she tries to publish at least 4 novels each year and usually another Christmas novella at the end of the year. For inspiration she looks out at the Rocky Mountains from her back patio or watches the waves when she visits Cocoa Beach, Florida.

Book preview

Gathering Clouds

Colorado Dreams and Desires

by

Sandra S. Kerns

Published by Sandra S. Kerns, LLC at Smashwords

Editor: Joy Clintsman, Big Sister Edits

Copyright 2014 Sandra S. Kerns

Cover design by: Itsy Designs

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please go to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, or stored into any information storage and retrieval system now known whether mechanical or electronic, or hereinafter invented without permission from the author, except for excerpts used in reviews. To request permission please contact the author at sandrakerns.com. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

Dear Reader,

Even in thoroughly proofed and meticulously edited books, errors and typos can slip through. If you find an error in my book, please feel free to send a personal note to me at sandrakerns.com. I endeavor to give you the best book possible and am always interested in your comments.

Happy reading,

Sandra

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DEDICATION

For my favorite chef, Josh

Chapter One

The smell of stale sweat slapped Gabrielle as she stepped through the door. The mid-day heat of northern Colorado mixed with the sweat caused by the exertion of the gym’s patrons made for an interesting aroma. Straightening her shoulders, she remembered her reason for being here and continued walking further into the room rather than backing out the door. No foul smell was going to keep her from her goal.

Besides, she should have expected it. This was not a spandex and neon lights type of gym. Here the patrons didn’t care what they looked like while they jumped rope, sparred in a makeshift boxing ring, or took out their frustrations on a punching bag. The people here weren’t worried about looking good, they were focused on strength. That and punching the daylights out of someone, she thought watching two men spar in the ring. She shook her head, shrugged her shoulders and moved on.

Gabrielle knew she would never understand boxing. Honestly, she didn’t care to, but that wasn’t why she was here. A friend had recommended someone who was possibly working out here. She had said he had the skills she needed right now.

Knowing she looked out of place in her feminine, but professional attire, Gabrielle didn’t take offense at the stares or eye rolls she received. She met each one dead on with a friendly smile before moving on to the next. Not one of them matched the picture a friend had sent her after they had discussed her restaurant troubles. She continued scanning the room as she walked around the area around the ring.

She spotted him.

On the far side of the room, apparently oblivious to her entrance or the distraction it had caused stood Theo DeLeon pounding his fists into a large hanging bag. His name fit him. Her friend had said he had been dubbed the Lion in prison for his disposition and unruly mane of brown hair, but mostly for his strength.

He had killed a man with one punch.

Remembering that, Gabrielle shivered despite the heat caused by the September sun pouring through the second story windows. Watching him pummel the bag she had no doubt it was true. The power behind each punch he threw made the bag swing. She noticed other men working on similar bags didn’t have the same effect with their punches. She shivered again.

Okay, enough with being a ninny, go talk to him.

Tugging the front of her jacket, she started walking toward him. Yeti would have been another good nickname for him, he was so big. Then again, any man over five ten seemed tall to her, and this man was well over that. He also had plenty of muscle filling out his frame. Figuratively, shaking her head at herself for taking inventory of the man’s assets, she stopped several feet away from him. Knowing she was in his peripheral vision Gabrielle decided not to interrupt, but wait for him to acknowledge her.

He didn’t.

In fact, the way he slammed his fists into the casing of the huge bag in a series of mind numbing blows, Gabrielle was positive he knew of her presence. She was just as positive he didn’t want her to know. The seriousness of her situation wouldn’t allow her to back down. When he moved to put his back to her, she sidestepped him so she was in his line of sight again. His continued dismissive attitude irritated her.

I need your help.

Without so much as a glance, he moved to another bag.

Undeterred, Gabrielle followed. She watched him attack the new bag, making it swing at an amazing speed. His movements were fluid, not halting and stiff. His gaze never left the bobbing sphere in front of him as his taped fists rolled over and over each other in a mind-numbing rhythm that momentarily mesmerized her. After a mental shake to refocus her thoughts, Gabrielle tried to engage him again.

You can ignore me all day, but I won’t leave. I’m desperate and patient. A dangerous combination.

For the first time since she had spotted him, his fist missed its target. He ducked his head aside a split second before the bag hit him. It gave Gabrielle a short-lived zing of triumph. Then he continued moving as if he had planned the move the entire time.

I was told you have certain skills.

His head gave a slight shake as a low growl emerged from him. When he clutched the bag, stopping its movement, his gaze cut quickly to her.

Skills? The one word came out of his mouth hard and dry before he dismissed her again and resumed his assault on the bag.

The one word grated along Gabrielle’s nerves. Doubts crowded her mind. What had she been thinking? This was the man she wanted running her kitchen? He had worse social skills than her current chef, and that was saying a lot. Of course, he had been locked up in a cell for the past three years. Shoving her hands in her jacket pockets she stood her ground.

A friend recommended you, she said. He didn’t miss a beat, but she did notice one corner of his mouth kick up just a bit.

Now I know you’ve made a mistake. I don’t have any friends.

Alright, a mutual acquaintance. The way he shook his head irritated her.

I doubt we run in the same circles, lady. This doesn’t look like your kind of hangout, he said, giving the bag a final punch, then turning to face her. I live here. I can’t imagine anyone we would both know, so what exactly do you want? He stepped away from the bag and grabbed a towel from a nearby bench.

Inwardly, Gabrielle cringed at his harsh tone. On the outside she was confident she appeared unruffled by his rude overbearing attitude. She figured that fact grated on his nerves by the way his eyes narrowed before he scrubbed the towel over his face. Still, he wasn’t the first angry at life person she’d encountered. Being the daughter of a preacher, she’d seen her share of world-weary souls. She wasn’t afraid even when his odd gray-green eyes focused on her, or when she noticed the obviously old scars crossing his chest.

When faced with anger and belligerence, offer compassion and patience. That was her pastor father’s philosophy. In typical pastor kid style, Gabrielle preferred a tad harsher sounding version. Kill them with kindness.

She watched as he pulled the towel around his neck and held each end in a tight grip. His eyes cut a sideways glance to the right when the sound of shuffling feet and fists pounding a nearby bag stopped. The person must have understood the silent warning because the noise quickly resumed. She almost laughed at how easily the large man working the bag had been frightened. Then again, Theo DeLeon’s face was set in a hard angry expression. She needed to soften him up a little.

Extending her hand toward him she smiled. I’m sorry. I should have introduced myself first. Gabrielle. Gabrielle James. I own the Silver Lining restaurant two blocks over.

He stared at her hand like it was the proverbial serpent preparing to take a bite of him. After a moment, one of his hands released its hold on the towel around his neck and closed over hers. Gabrielle felt like the serpent took a bite of her now. Her hand disappeared in his much larger one and the area where his skin wasn’t covered with tape were hot. She prayed he wouldn’t feel how her pulse had kicked into high gear.

DeLeon, he said.

The hard stare he aimed directly into her eyes told her the prayer hadn’t worked. He probably thought it meant she was afraid of him. But, despite his prison record and his size, she wasn’t afraid. She almost laughed when the logical side of her brain said she should be.

Theo DeLeon was the most physically threatening man she’d ever met. He was also the most tempting, and that included her Gentleman’s Quarterly ex-husband. Theo was the extra large slice of Decadent Chocolate Fudge Cake on her menu, with a cherry on top. Not that she was interested in him for that reason. She didn’t have time for such things. Besides, once she got close enough to him, she could see the loss in his eyes. He was different from other men she’d known who came out of prison. Most were angry and bitter, or the complete opposite, so thrilled to be free again they couldn’t contain their joy. Theo’s eyes were sad, empty; as if he’d closed himself off rather than chance living again. She knew the feeling, but it tore at her heart to see someone else hurt that way.

When she realized how long she’d held his hand, she smiled awkwardly and released it. Her current circumstances required she focus on her own needs for a change. If she helped him in the process that would simply be an added bonus. But right now, she had a livelihood at stake.

Have I been misinformed, Mr. DeLeon? Have you already found a job? She closed her eyes for just a second. Please tell me you’re not working at the Raging Inferno.

Raging Inferno?

Hope bloomed anew in her chest. The restaurant and club downtown on Main Street?

Lady, Ms. James. Gabrielle gave him points for correcting himself though he didn’t seem happy about it. "For your information, most ex-cons can’t afford to eat at fancy restaurants. I haven’t been inside one for years."

Gabrielle didn’t shrink away when he emphasized ex-cons. He was obviously trying to chase her away, but it wouldn’t work. She hadn’t lied about being desperate. But you have worked in them.

Not in quite a while.

Well, no, I understand that, but before.

Yes.

And in, uh, um--

Prison?

Gabrielle couldn’t believe she was so tongue-tied. She could do this. Squaring her shoulders she nodded. Yes, when you were in prison, you cooked as well.

A bark of laughter escaped his lips. If that’s what you call what we slung together for guys who didn’t care what they ate, yeah. I cooked there too.

She heard the derision in his tone. It must have been horrible for a chef of his caliber. Her friend had told her about some of the other places he had worked. They were mostly high end restaurants.

I understand that, but I was told the warden sometimes had you cater meetings for him. I doubt you were slinging things together then.

The way his fists tightened their grip on the towel, she knew she’d hit a nerve.

His eyes regarded her intently. You expect me to believe you came here looking for a cook? I’m sure there are better ways to find one of the probably hundreds of people willing to take that job. Like, put an ad in the paper. So, I ask again, what is it you really want?

Let me buy you lunch and I’ll explain.

Why don’t you explain right here?

Gabrielle wanted to close her eyes, count to twenty, and take a deep breath before her patience, which she had lied about having, totally disappeared and she lost this chance. Closing her eyes was out of the question. This man would take that as a signal of defeat and walk away. His ever changing gray eyes dared her to give up and do just that. Gabrielle hadn’t passed on a dare since third grade when a classmate dared her to eat a bug. She certainly wasn’t going to now with her restaurant hanging in the balance. However, she did take a deep breath.

Because it’s almost lunch time and I need to eat. If I miss a meal, I get cranky. Believe me it is not a pretty sight. It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it wasn’t a lie either. When her blood sugar got low, her sense of judgment became dulled. This was definitely not a time for dull brain cells.

Cranky, Theo said.

Gabrielle nodded but said nothing more. She waited anxiously for his acquiescence. She’d done her research on him after talking to her friend last night. He was exactly what she needed; a skilled chef with a reputation for working well with other staff. Though he acted like a wild lion with his fractious attitude here, she could handle it. She had to. Her restaurant depended on it. When he shrugged Gabrielle’s knees wobbled with the relief.

Who am I to turn down a free meal? Tell me where and I’ll meet you in say twenty minutes.

How about my restaurant? It’s just a couple of blocks from here. That way I can take care of some other business, while I wait for you. She pulled a card from her pocket and held it out to him.

He took the card and turned without another word.

As he walked to the locker room, Gabrielle’s breath whooshed out of her lungs. Another petal of hope bloomed inside her. The worst part was over. She had his attention. Now she just had to figure out how to get him to trust her. No problem. Ex-cons trusted complete strangers all the time. Her hope withered a little with the thought.

# # #

Theo walked away from the Peach Lady with practiced nonchalance. He didn’t want anyone to know his business. Granted at the moment he didn’t really know what the business she wanted to discuss was, but that didn’t change his need for privacy. When your right to privacy is taken away, regaining it becomes very important. He knew everyone had thought him unaware of the woman when she walked in. He knew because he watched their reactions to her. But he had been very aware.

The moment she crossed the threshold the entire atmosphere of the gym changed. She couldn’t have been more out of her element. Most of the people in the gym were sweating like pigs and smelling worse. Her silhouette looked as fresh as the Georgia peaches he had cooked with in Atlanta before going to prison. When she had walked closer he had learned she also smelled as sweet.

Her long strawberry blonde hair that his wife would have killed for hung in a loose braid over a dainty shoulder encased in the damned peach colored suit jacket. The suit said business but the flared skirt showed a bit of . . . what was the word Lea would have used? Whimsy. The word whispered through his mind. That was it, Gabrielle James was whimsical. The fanciful word made him growl as he stalked through the locker room. However, it did not stop the direction of his thoughts. Her light-hearted attitude continued all the way to her tiny feet tucked into low heeled shoes with flowers on top. Flowers, he thought shaking his head. He had almost laughed aloud seeing them.

He yanked the tape off one hand and then the other. This was not good. Every woman he’d ever known had caused him grief of one kind or another. Whether on purpose or not, it didn’t matter. Women were trouble. Soft feminine women were the worst kind of trouble he knew.

Yep, like the old musical his mother used to watch said, trouble with a capital T and he wasn’t buying. He didn’t believe for a moment she had come searching him out to fill a cook’s position. Nowadays, with all the kids thinking they’d be the next Iron Chef, people who thought they could cook were on every corner. Why was he so special? Which of the skills he possessed did she really need? Culinary or protection, or did she want some problem to permanently disappear? He highly doubted his culinary skills were the focus.

Irritated with himself for wanting the questions answered, he stepped in the shower room and slapped the water on full blast and as hot as he could get it. Maybe he could steam some of the irritation away. While the spray blasted like stingers into his head and shoulders, he tried to figure out how she had learned of his skills as she called them. Ms. James didn’t seem the type that would be interested in anyone from his side of the tracks, let alone ex-cons.

A second after that thought, he wondered if he was just putting his negative attitude on her. When he’d watched her walk through the gym, she hadn’t snubbed any of the patrons ogling her or even shown a sign of disgust. She had stopped and watched a sparring match in the ring for a minute. The way she jumped at every punch made it obvious she wasn’t a fan of the sport. When she turned away a grin had pulled at her lips and she shrugged. The movement seemed less judgmental and more like she didn’t get it, but it wasn’t her place to say it was wrong. He didn’t know any women who were as open-minded as she appeared to be.

Images of his wife shaking her head in a similar fashion when she would watch him workout played through his mind. Memories of how those workout sessions often ended had pain shooting like an arrow through his chest. Growling aloud, he slammed his fist against the shower wall then grabbed the soap. He didn’t need those memories stirred up. Theo heard the sound of feet slapping the tiles in a hasty retreat and looked across the room to see a shower running but no one there.

Damn. If he was scaring the kind of people who frequented this gym, he was losing it. He needed to get himself under control.

A few minutes later, finished in the shower, he walked to his locker. After pulling on the sweatpants and T-shirt he’d worn down from his room a floor above, he slammed it closed and headed up the stairs. He was renting the room weekly from the gym’s owner. It wasn’t much, but it was a roof over his head that didn’t cost an arm and leg. His finances were limited.

He looked at his meager wardrobe. If he was going to a restaurant he should wear something decent. He shook out his only pair of khakis and pulled them on. Snagging a white button-down shirt from a hook on the wall, he shoved his arms into the sleeves. Hating anything around his wrists, he quickly rolled the cuffs back. He didn’t like short-sleeved shirts unless they were T-shirts, so he always wore long sleeves but rolled the cuffs. If it wasn’t fancy enough for Miss Peach Lady, well, that was her problem, not his.

That’s a bit harsh.

Lea’s voice echoed through his head. Dead more than four years and his wife could still read him as easily as one of her second-grader’s books. And worse, his subconscious would call him on it.

Fine, I’ll play nice. But if this is more than a cooking position, she can buy me lunch but I’m not interested.

When one of Lea’s memorable comebacks didn’t play through his mind he released a sigh. Talking out loud to a memory didn’t bode well for the rest of his day. He sat on the sorry excuse for a bed to pull on his socks and boots. The creak of the rusty springs under the mattress reminding him he really needed to look for a different place to live. Grabbing his wallet and change from the dresser, he shoved them in his front pocket, the classified ads in his back pocket and left the room. He would get satisfactory answers to his questions or Gabrielle James could find herself another cook.

Chapter Two

Theo glanced at the business card in his hand then up at the store fronts. Yep, this was the place. The address seemed familiar though he knew he hadn’t been here before. Pulling the classified ads from his pocket, he checked the first apartment listing he had circled to look at after his interview. The address on it matched the one on the business card. He glared at the silver scrolled lettering on the window. Silver Lining? He doubted it.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d even considered that a possibility. In his experience, life gave plenty of gray clouds, but no silver-lined ones.

At least, he wouldn’t have to waste more time looking for the apartment just to be turned down again. Closing his eyes for just a moment he fought the urge to give up on everything and just go find a hole to crawl in. He hadn’t hidden from anything since his mother’s burial almost thirty years ago. He certainly wasn’t going to start now. Plus, he would probably get a decent meal out of this deal. That was something.

He reached for the door handle and started to open the door.

Angry voices reached his ear. His jaw tensed.

You can’t leave, Jason.

Watch me.

We have. . .

Theo quietly pushed the door closed. Rubbing the irritating itch at the back of his neck, he tried to talk himself into leaving. Walk away from it. Do not get involved. There are other jobs.

Okay, that one pulled him out of the funk a bit. He hadn’t found anyone else willing to hire him. Then again, he wasn’t sure this job was for a cook. He could wait to hear back from the ones he’d sent his resume to on-line and hope their responses were better than the ones he’d applied for in person.

There were other apartments to look into as well. He glanced down at the paper in his hand to verify the fact. Granted every apartment he applied for, complex or private, had turned him down the moment they knew he was an ex-con. Maybe because Ms. James wants him to work for her she would rent to him, too.

Walk away, he told himself again though his hand was already opening the door.

You little--

Fearing what would follow the raised male voice; Theo yanked the door wide open in time to see Ms. James bend one of the man’s fingers backward making him bend his arm and go down on one knee. Theo rushed across the entry when he saw the man start to swing his free hand toward her head. He caught the man’s fist before it reached its target and glared down into angry eyes.

What the--

Whatever you did to land yourself in this position, Theo said, I’m sure you owe the lady an apology.

Go to hell! The man yelled back.

Theo increased the pressure on the man’s hand and leaned closer to his face. Been there. Apologize.

The man continued to glare at him in silence until Theo yanked on his arm.

I’m sorry, Ms. James.

Even without knowing the circumstances, Theo knew the apology was less than sincere. He doubted they would get any better, but looked at Peach Lady for her response. She gave a tight nod and released the man’s finger. Following suit, Theo released the man’s fist, adding a slight shove for good measure. He detested bullies.

I suggest you leave.

Hate radiated from the man’s narrowed eyes. Theo leaned closer. Now.

He’d been told his voice rivaled that of an angry lion when raised, so he wasn’t surprised when the man started toward the door. Unfortunately, the jerk didn’t leave silently.

You couldn’t pay me enough to work in this dump!