Gabriel's Atonement Read Online Free

driver waved to a man on the boardwalk.
    Gabe rolled his head from side to side, trying to relieve the tension knotting his neck. Why hadn’t the woman been reasonable? Surely she needed the money.
    He’d tried to do something good for someone else for once…. Now what?
    Leaning his palms against the windowsill, Gabe rested his forehead on the cool glass. “Did she ask about the circumstances surrounding his death?”
    â€œNo, and I didn’t say nuthin’. She didn’t seem too overly upset about it, neither.” Homer wheezed a raspy chuckle. “You shoulda seen her swinging that branch at me like it was a club. Don’t know that I coulda overpowered her if ’n I had to.”
    Gabe turned and lounged against the windowsill, wondering what kind of woman wouldn’t be upset over her husband’s death. There were few respectable jobs for women, especially one with a child, so life was surely going to be more difficult for Mrs. Talbot. Any woman who would turn down a hundred dollars in gold coin intrigued him, especially a spunky one. But then she didn’t know how much he planned to give her. Talbot only lost his twenty-dollar monthly pay, but adding Gabe’s own funds to the kitty would help the widow more and ease his guilt over killing her husband. He still woke up most nights in a cold sweat when he dreamed of the shoot-out.
    â€œShe’s a purty little thang.” Homer ran his hand over his thick stubble, making a scratching sound. “Got the most unusual pale green eyes I ever did see.”
    Green. The sad eyes that had haunted his dreams since the ambush in the alley were light green. An unusual color for sure. “Her hair?”
    â€œGolden brown, like a glass of fine whiskey held up to the light—and curly, just like that boy of hers.”
    â€œBoy?” So the babe in the photo was Talbot’s son.
    â€œCute little feller.” Homer yawned then smacked his lips. “Sure looked like they coulda used that money. Neither of ’em had on shoes, and their clothes was ragged. Found out Mizz Talbot’s been doin’ mending for some of the townfolk.”
    Gabe sighed. He couldn’t stand the thought of a child going without basic needs. It was only April, and the ground still held a chill. Neither mother nor son should be going without shoes so early in the year.
    â€œYou got somethin’ else you want me to do, Mr. Coulter?” Homer Jones wiped his nose with his sleeve.
    Gabe could barely abide the uncouth man, but Homer was loyal and did as he was told for the meager pay doled out to him.
    â€œThat’s all for now.” Gabe pulled two dollars from his pocket, tossed it to Jones, then turned to face the window.
    â€œYou gonna be playing poker at the saloon tonight?”
    â€œWhere else would I be?”
    â€œNow that I’ve got some money, maybe I’ll get in on the game myself.” The door latch clicked as Homer left the room.
    Gabe shook his head and chuckled. Likely, those two bucks would be back in his pocket before long. Homer ought to know better than to gamble with a professional.
    Gabe flopped down in his chair and stared at the bottom right-hand drawer of his desk. Next month he’d be twenty-five. The deathbed promises he’d made to his mother plagued him like a bad bout of influenza. He hadn’t been able to keep his first promise. “Read the Bible every day, Gabriel,” she’d said. “And become an honorable man like your father was.”
    Too late for that. His dear mother would be so disappointed with how he’d turned out. But perhaps it wasn’t too late to keep the second promise. Was there any hope a gambler could become an honorable man? He snorted and shook his head. Not likely.
    He glanced across the room to the framed picture of his mother and real father on their wedding day. They’d been younger than he was now.
    It was odd that he could