A Gift to Cherish (Road to Refuge Book 2)

by Victoria Bylin

  “I’m glad, because—”

  “Wait.” She held up her hand to stop him. “It’s not that simple. What I struggle with isn’t life and death. I struggle with living. I’m okay with you being a cop. What I’m afraid of is being alone and scared in a strange city.”

  “You wouldn’t be alone. I’d be there for you.”

  “I know you would try. But you’re human. Even with the best of intentions, human beings let each other down.”

  He reached for both her hands, gripped them gently, and lifted them to take the weight. “Partners lean on each other, Daisy. Sometimes they carry each other.”

  “Yes, they do. But don’t you see? I need to be sure I can be a good partner to you. I have to be strong on my own—with God as my strength. Because like you said, police work is dangerous. Anything can happen to anyone at any time.”

  “Even in Refuge,” he pointed out.

  “Yes, even here.”

  “So you’re okay with my career?”

  “Yes. I am.”

  He turned from her, stared out across the river, and jammed his hands in his pockets. After a breath, he faced her again. “There’s something I haven’t shared with you.”

  Surprised, she drew back. “What is it?”

  “I paid a visit to the local sheriff’s office to pass along Jax Martin’s car-make and license plate. But I also wanted to get a feel for the department.”

  Her pulse sped up. “A feel?”

  “Yes—a general impression and to see how they felt about a city dude transferring in. The department’s a lot smaller than CPD. And I do mean a lot. But I met some good people, chatted with the station commander, and told him I was considering a big change.”

  “You did?” Daisy could hardly breathe.

  “Yes—but the keyword here is considering.”

  “Of course! But still—Rafe—I’m stunned.” She tried to absorb what he’d just said, but she couldn’t get past Rafe staying in Refuge. Her nest. Her home. Her peace of mind. But what about him? His dreams. His needs. His goals. What felt so right suddenly felt all wrong. “Do you want to stay here for yourself or is it just because of me?”

  “I like it here, but you’re ninety-three percent of the reason.”

  In spite of her worries, Daisy laughed. “Now that’s an odd number.” And a sign he’d given the idea a lot of thought. “Is Jesse the other seven percent?”

  “He gets five, and the other two percent goes to living in a beautiful place.”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  “I’m thinking about it,” he reminded her. “It’s a big decision—one of the biggest of my life.”

  “Yes, it is.” The gravity of it sobered her, and she suddenly felt overwhelmed and unworthy. “I can’t ask that of you.”

  “You’re not. If I make that decision—and it’s in the future, not next week or even soon—it’ll be my choice. No matter what, I’m going back to work on August 1. If you visit in the fall, we can see what comes next. Who knows?” He gave an offhand shrug, but hope deepened his voice. “You might even like it there.”

  “Maybe.” She tried to shrug the way he did, but her body refused to move. Rafe deserved more than a shrug. He deserved to know how she felt. Stepping closer, she raised her face to his and let her heart do the talking. “Leaving Refuge terrifies me, but there’s something I’m not afraid of.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Loving you.”

  A smile formed on his lips, then hooked into a roguish grin. “Oh, yeah?”

  A soft trembling erupted in her chest and spread to every cell in her body. “I love you, Rafe. I do. After Eric, I thought I’d never feel safe enough to say those words to anyone, but you—you’re so good to me. So patient and strong. I feel safe, and—”

  He stopped her with a kiss that calmed her fears in one breath and fanned them in the next. Loving Rafe had proved to be surprisingly easy. Matching up the puzzle pieces of their lives was another matter altogether.

  The kiss turned into kissing, and kissing spun into a whirlwind of emotions, all of them intense, exquisite, and sharpened by the uncertainty of their future. His world or hers? Was she strong enough to follow him? Would he be happy if—

  “Hey, Rafe—Daisy.” Jesse’s voice shot out of the dark from ten steps away. “Sorry to break this up.”

  Rafe practically growled at him. “This better be good, bro.”

  “Yeah, I get it.” Humor lightened his voice, but then it dipped again. “It’s Chelsea. I’m afraid she needs a friend right now.”

  Daisy groaned. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I wish I were. Angela found her crying her eyes out in the ladies’ room. She’s been drinking.”

  Rafe’s arm tightened around Daisy’s waist. “So she can’t get herself home.”

  “No,” Jesse replied. “She’s too far gone—even for an Uber.”

  Daisy turned to Rafe. “I’m so sorry—I have to help her.”

  “I know you do.”

  “I just hate that it’s ruining our evening.”

  “So do I.” He gave her forehead a quick kiss. “But I’d do the same thing for a friend. Sometimes there’s no choice.”

  The three of them headed for the restaurant with Jesse a few steps ahead. Rafe kept his arm around her waist, holding her close as they entered the lobby.

  “I’ll wait here,” he told her. “You can drive her home in her car, and I’ll follow.”

  Daisy gave his waist a squeeze. “She doesn’t usually drink. Something must have set her off.”

  “I hope it’s a one-and-done. But, Daize, I have to be honest. She’s so desperate she’s taking chances even if she doesn’t know it or won’t admit it.”

  “I see it too,” Daisy replied. “And it scares me to pieces.”

  Rafe and Jesse stood in the restaurant lobby, empty now except for a few couples heading for the door. Trickling water from an indoor fountain masked the restaurant hum, but raucous laughter came from somewhere deep in the restaurant.

  The situation with Chelsea bothered Rafe far more than he had let on to Daisy. The fact that she’d met up with Jax Martin said everything. And now this—a crying jag fueled by alcohol. If Angela hadn’t found her, what would have happened?

  Rafe didn’t like the circumstances, but he appreciated Jesse’s company. “I’m sorry Angela had to get involved. Thanks for hanging around.”

  Jesse shrugged like it was no big deal. “At least I’m not standing here with a bunch of shopping bags. I always feel sorry for those guys at the mall.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Rafe hated to shop. “I’d rather be the guy with the diaper bag and three kids.”

  Jesse gave him a sideways look. “If you’re talking kids, you’ve got it bad for Daisy.”

  “Yeah, I do.” Rafe didn’t mind admitting it, either. “She’s great. I’m ready for more—for everything. But don’t ask me about the geography problem.”

  “Okay, I won’t.” Jesse started to pull out his phone but stopped. “Forget it. I’m asking. What’s up?”

  Rafe had already told his brother about his visit to the sheriff’s office and how he’d spoken to the station commander. “I like it here, and I think I could fit in. But it’s like cutting off my right hand for the sake of my left one.”

  “Confusing, huh?”

  “You bet.”

  “You have a job with me anytime you want it. It would be a fairly smooth transition—except for the part about not really wanting to be here.”

  Rafe shook his head. “I laid it all out to Daisy earlier tonight. We’re going to take things a step at a time.”

  Both men sighed in unison, glanced at their watches, then shoved their hands in their pockets. Two minutes after Daisy entered the restroom, Angela came out and focused on Jesse, rolling her eyes as she crossed the lobby. “That girl is a piece of work.” She spotted Rafe and put two fingers to her lips. “Oops. Sorry. I shouldn’t have bad-mouthed Daisy’s friend.”
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  “I understand.” Piece of work was probably kind. “Do you know what happened?”

  “Only that it involves a guy she just met. He turned out to be”—her manicured fingers formed air quotes—“as boring as all the others.”

  Rafe didn’t need detective skills to guess what had happened. At the reception, Chelsea had sought out Shane’s best man. A pro baseball player nursing an elbow injury, Craig had come to the wedding solo. Chelsea had been interested in him—maybe too interested. If Craig had given her the slip, she might have looked for company in the bar.

  There was no reason for Jesse and Angela to wait with him, so he motioned toward the door. “Daisy and I can handle Chelsea. Why don’t you two head on out?”

  Relief washed over Angela’s face, but she gave Jesse a questioning look. “I’m ready if you are.”

  Jesse nodded, then spoke to Rafe. “Call if you need anything.”

  “I will.” Rafe shared a smile with Angela. “That’s my big brother. Always looking out for other people.”

  Angela grinned—at Jesse, not Rafe. “I like that about him.”

  Jesse shrugged off the compliment, but Rafe wondered if his brother had finally met someone special. Sparks glowed in Angela’s made-up eyes, though Jesse remained as stoic as ever. They left together, holding hands, leaving Rafe to wait alone.

  Chapter 31

  For Daisy, the ten days after the wedding dragged on forever. She tried to focus on tasks for Miss Joan, but there wasn’t much to do. The charity visits were over, and the remaining effort involved Miss Joan consulting with her attorney before making a final decision. The history book about Cottonwood Acres was finished, and they were waiting for the proof pages from the publisher.

  Daisy had far too much time to think about the night of the wedding. Without Rafe’s help, she couldn’t have gotten Chelsea home. He followed them to the apartment, then carried Chelsea fireman-style after she passed out in the elevator. As for what he called the vomit comet, they were both glad it struck in the parking lot and not elsewhere.

  It was awful. Every minute of it.

  Awful.

  And not just because of Chelsea being foolish—which she fully admitted the next day with her head exploding.

  The true awfulness came from loving Rafe more each day and being assaulted by doubt. Was he too good to be true? Or was he too good for her?

  Or was he simply a decent human being who loved her despite her flaws?

  Daisy had lost her emotional balance, and she wanted it back. No way would she drink again—no way. But she knew that vow for what it was—a confession of her fierce and urgent need for God. People stumbled. They slipped. They did things they said they would never do. Or they didn’t do everything they promised. Daisy was one of those people, and living in Refuge helped to keep her grounded.

  She desperately needed a touch from God, but he wasn’t exactly holding her hand these days. With Shane and MJ away on their honeymoon, Chelsea obsessed with another dating app, Rafe talking up Cincinnati, and Miss Joan pondering the final decision on the giveaway, Daisy felt alone and even abandoned as she sat at her office computer, scrolling through Instagram.

  When the doorbell rang, she gladly popped up from her desk and went to the front door to answer it. The FedEx guy stood there with a bulky padded envelope. He delivered often, so Daisy hoped for a little small talk.

  “What’s up?” she asked as she signed for the delivery.

  “Just a million deliveries thanks to tourist season.” He traded the package for the computer tablet. “Gotta run. See you later.”

  So no small talk, but the package offered a respite from her own thoughts. Daisy took it to her office, sliced it open, saw the proof sheets for the history book. For the first time since the wedding, she genuinely smiled.

  Basking in satisfaction, she took the package to her desk, sat down, and leafed through the stack of pages until she reached a photograph of Jug, Comet, and Zippy grazing in the meadow. The memory of Rafe running to the rescue when the horses crowded her for carrots roared to life and she grimaced.

  Why couldn’t she have fallen for a man with roots so deep he wouldn’t even think of leaving Refuge? She leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and muttered to the empty office. “Why, God? Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Doing what?” God hadn’t spoken to her. The voice belonged to Rafe.

  Daisy spun the chair, opened her eyes, and saw a bouquet of the most perfect red roses, held by the most perfect man—well, mostly perfect—in the most perfect place where she had a perfect job—and a very imperfect family, which only made Shane and MJ perfect, because they knew they were imperfect and let her be imperfect, too.

  Oh, shut up! Daisy was so sick of herself she could hardly stand it. Her evil twin was off duty today, but her evil cousin had arrived in her place with a truckload of self-pity.

  Rafe held out the roses. “For you.”

  Her evil cousin skulked off at the sight of the red velvet petals, and Daisy crossed the room. When she lifted the vase, Rafe’s warm fingers brushed hers, with the cold glass of the vase chilling her palms. “They’re beautiful.”

  Leaning over the blooms, she brushed a soft kiss on his lips, lingering just a bit before she placed the flowers on her desk.

  Roses were serious flowers. She couldn’t deal with all that seriousness today, so she pushed it aside with a playful smile. “Let’s see . . . It’s not Valentine’s Day, and my birthday is in November. What’s the occasion?”

  She expected him to say he didn’t need an occasion to bring beautiful flowers to a beautiful woman. That was the kind of perfect thing Rafe would say. Instead his eyes darkened in a way she didn’t often see. The nightmares were gone, and he’d told her Dr. Susan belonged in the Psychologist Hall of Fame, but today something seemed wrong.

  He jammed his hands in the pockets of his denim work pants. “This is going to be a bit of a surprise.”

  She braced herself. “Good or bad?”

  “Both.” Half his mouth quirked upward. The other half stayed level to create a smile as confusing as his answer. “I’m leaving for Cincinnati on Monday.”

  “Monday! That’s just four days from now!” Her heart plummeted to her toes. “I thought we had more time.”

  “So did I.”

  He came forward to hug her, but Daisy didn’t want to be hugged. She wanted to kick and scream, and maybe even cuss, which she didn’t do anymore. Mostly she wanted to tell God he was dropping the ball and to get his act together—which shocked her to the core. God was, well, God. And Daisy was merely the flower sharing her name—a fragile thing that wilted in the heat and froze in the cold, an ordinary plant not nearly as spectacular as the roses gracing her desk in a perfect array.

  It was all too much—too confusing and painful. Hardening herself, she crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin as stubbornly as she could. “So what changed?”

  Rafe took the hint and stayed three feet away. “I called my sergeant this morning to confirm the August 1 return date. D’Andre’s on medical leave with a broken leg. Two other officers are out, plus it’s vacation season. He asked if I could possibly make it back by July 10. They’ve been good to me, Daisy. I had to say yes.”

  She admired his loyalty, but his choice—as right as it was—frustrated her. Would he always put work first? Was he a crazy workaholic disguised as a laid-back construction worker? What if she took the job with Maggie’s House, moved to Cincinnati, and he forgot she existed? After all, they’d known each other only for two months.

  Rafe hesitated. “I’ll miss you.”

  “I’ll miss you, too.” She meant it. But she was also a little mad at him, in part because being mad was a lot easier than being gracious, or mature, or the strong woman she wanted to be.

  His gaze went to the flowers on the desk. So did hers. The roses were mostly buds, but they’d open if she placed the vase in the beam of sunshine shooting across the coffee table.
For reasons she couldn’t quite fathom, she didn’t want to move them into the light.

  When he looked up, his eyes held an army of questions. “How about visiting in August instead of the fall?”

  She glanced at the laminated wall calendar she used to track Miss Joan’s schedule. With the charity visits complete, the only things scheduled were Miss Joan’s weekly hair appointments and a routine visit to the dentist. It was July 1, but August was next to it—and blank.

  Daisy shrugged. “Maybe. I’ll have to check with Lyn to see if Maggie’s House will be ready for someone to do some scouting.” Daisy hadn’t accepted the job and Lyn was fine with waiting. The organization had a lot of background work to do before they bought property.

  “Let’s do this on our own,” Rafe suggested. “Come for the fun of it.”

  “I don’t know. Airfare’s expensive.” Too much to fly back and forth like millionaires going between New York and Los Angeles every weekend.

  Rafe shrugged, said the ticket was on him and that she shouldn’t worry about the money. “We can figure all that out. Just think about it, okay?”

  She nodded, but the evil cousin returned with a bucket of suspicion. Was Rafe being controlling? Was it nice that he wanted to pay her way, or did the money obligate her somehow? Eric had used money to manipulate her. Rafe, on the other hand, paid for things without making a big deal about it, and he let her pay when she insisted. There was no reason to be distrustful of his motives. None. But she couldn’t shake old feelings and reactions.

  Maybe it didn’t matter. She could buy her own plane ticket if she wanted to go to Ohio. She’d been saving so she could pay the full rent when Chelsea left for Michigan. Now it seemed Chelsea was going to stay in Refuge forever—and Daisy was leaving. It wasn’t fair or even logical.

  Rafe studied her face. “I know this is a surprise, maybe even a shock.” He looked down at his feet, then at the roses, and finally back at her face. Questions gleamed in his eyes.

  For once, he looked insecure. Love for him poured into her, and she put herself in his shoes—his black police boots, to be specific. Going back to work after the nightmares and that weird panicky moment might not be as easy as he pretended. Compassion flooded through her. So did the knowledge that he liked having her around. Despite her insecurities, or maybe because of them, she was a support to him and not a burden.