Just Beginning Read Online Free PDF Page A

Before that, I’d traveled with them around the world wherever they were sent. It was a great adventure for a little boy—and a sad education. The people were so poor.” In his mind’s eye, he could still clearly picture the flimsy tin lean-tos. “The lucky ones had stick huts with tin roofs, and the wealthy ones had sandals. After my folks died, I went to live with my aunt and uncle.”
    Sympathy softened her expression. “I’m sorry. That must have been tough.”
    “Could have been worse. Aunt Adele and Uncle George were great. They were never able to have kids of their own, so it seemed like we were meant to be together.”
    “What an eventful childhood.” She put her wine glass down. “Did you ever want to follow in your parents’ footsteps, or did you resent their life?”
    “I never resented what happened. Uncle George was angry enough for all of us. He was close to my mom and blamed my father and the Peace Corps for her death. But my parents loved helping others. They’d needed to try and make a difference—it’s who they were. They often gave up their own quinine tablets so that the less hardy locals wouldn’t get sick.”
    “What about you?” she asked softly.
    “I always had quinine.”
    The conversation had turned uncomfortably personal and serious for a first date. Gabe hadn’t thought about his parents and his unusual childhood in years. He had a lot of happy memories—his parents had been loving and generous, but their early deaths left a scar. Being orphaned was tough—even when raised by family.
    The waiter delivered their dinner, and they ate in comfortable silence.
    “After college, I considered joining the Corps,” Gabe admitted.
    “And?”
    “Uncle George had a fit. He was hurt and betrayed. He even threatened to disinherit me.” Gabe chuckled, a dry mirthless sound. “I wanted to join the Peace Corps—like I cared about money.”
    “What’d you do?”
    “I stayed. He took me in and raised me.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t hurt him like that.”
    “What about your aunt?”
    “Aunt Adele died of a stroke when I was fifteen.”
    Jenny blew out a dramatic breath. “Mother died, aunt died, wife divorced. Women don’t last long around you do they, Harrison?”
    He chuckled. “Guess not.” The he held her gaze. “It’d take a special woman to stay with me.”
    The waiter interrupted to clear their plates. Declining dessert and coffee, they paid the bill and left the club.
    Gabe groaned and patted his flat stomach. “I could use some exercise. Want to walk along the lake?”
    “Sure.”
    They parked at the bottom of Woodland Shores Drive and crossed Lakeshore. The breeze lofted strands of Jenny’s long hair before settling dark tendrils across his navy jacket arm, clinging like a sticky web. He jammed his hands deep in his pockets to keep from reaching out, gathering the escaped locks, and rubbing them to see if they were as soft as he imagined them to be.
    Instead, Gabe scanned the glossy water dotted with hopeful sailboats and sighed. “It’s beautiful here.”
    Beautiful woman. Beautiful sunset. Beautiful night. If he put his arm around Jenny, would she lean into him and rest her head on his shoulder while soaking in the serenity of the lake or was it too soon?
    She stood with her arms crossed under her breasts, looking out across the water.
    “Cold?” he asked.
    “It’s a little chilly.”
    He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She reached behind her to free her hair, but then the jacket began sliding off. Gabe brushed her hands aside. “I got it.”
    While she held onto the lapels, he gathered the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled the long strands free of his jacket, reluctantly releasing them to tumble down her back. Softer than he’d imagined, with the light airy scent of springtime.
    “Thanks.” Jenny shot him a quick, bright smile as they began walking. “I’d love to have a house on the water. Can you imagine how