Gabriel's Promise (Gabriel's Inferno 4)

Later that afternoon

Snow.” Julia pointed to the delicate flakes that wafted featherlike in front of the living room window.

Clare reached her hand out to the window and then grabbed a lock of Julia’s hair and pulled.

“Okay, okay. We aren’t interested in snow.” Julia laughed, trying to free her hair.

She’d stopped using crutches the day before and tried putting weight on her ankle today. She’d wrapped it firmly and placed it in a soft-sided brace, which gave her more support. Still, she moved slowly and wouldn’t carry Clare up or down stairs out of an abundance of caution. She didn’t want to fall.

“It’s snowing?” Gabriel flipped a switch and the gas fireplace flared to life, creating a cozy glow.

“Just a few flakes.” Julia directed Clare’s attention to the window once again. “Look, Clare. Snow.”

Clare turned her head toward her father and began babbling.

“Good girl.” Gabriel touched her cheek. “Snow is appalling and I approve of your disinterest.”

Julia shook her head. “Think about Richard and Rebecca walking Beacon Hill in this weather.”

Gabriel consulted his watch. “They’d be at the movies now. Does Rachel know Richard came up for the weekend?”

“Yes. I spoke to her this morning and she said Richard told her last week.”

Gabriel’s blue eyes grew peering. “And Rachel is fine with it?”

“She said she and Richard worked things out and that she wouldn’t begrudge him a friend.” Julia grinned. “But she’s really happy Wonder Woman is coming to Selinsgrove to spend Christmas with everyone.”

“Ah,” said Gabriel. “Katherine would be horrified if she knew Rachel was comparing her to a comic book character.”

“I think Katherine would be flattered. She has a good sense of humor.”

“Hmmm.” Gabriel glanced over Julia’s shoulder, out the window, and became momentarily distracted. A blue Toyota was driving by their house at a snail’s pace. It reached the end of the cul-de-sac, turned around, and drove by their house again.

Gabriel surmised the driver was Jack Mitchell’s contact and watched as the car disappeared around the corner. He felt heartened knowing that someone else was keeping an eye on the house.

“Hello? Gabriel?” Julia snapped her fingers, trying to get his attention.

He forced a smile. “Sorry, darling. Entranced by the snow. What do you think of Clare’s new wardrobe?” Gabriel extended his arms toward the array of items that had been carefully displayed on every available piece of furniture or flat surface in the living room.

“They’re all very nice. But a bit extravagant, don’t you think?”

Gabriel looked offended. “She’s my daughter. I want her to have the best.”

“But the best doesn’t have to be the most expensive. Target makes nice baby clothes.”

Gabriel wrinkled his nose.

Julia persisted. “I like nice things. You’ve bought me beautiful dresses and more shoes than I can wear.”

“Shoes are works of art,” Gabriel interrupted. “Think of them as an art collection.”

“Yes, Professor. But think about the privilege Clare has. And think about where we live and all the privilege that surrounds us. I want to teach her that character counts—that being kind and generous make one beautiful.”

“She’s only three months old.”

“Exactly. And has already received gifts from Tiffany, a valuable Renaissance manuscript from her godmother, and a designer wardrobe from Barneys.”

“I can’t refuse the gifts that Kelly or Katherine give her.”