Shattered Dreams (Moonchild)

by Walters, Janet Lane;

  “Any of them serious?”

  She shrugged. “Not really. Are you sure you didn’t return to show people how you’ve changed?”

  Rafe gulped a breath. “I don’t care what people in town think. You, Gran Ruth and Jay matter. Maybe after time there will be others.” He moved to block the door.

  “Let me past.”

  He shook his head. “Why didn’t you remain in Europe? Your concerts had rave reviews.”

  She crossed her arms. “I didn’t want that life. Surely you recall how I always talked about becoming a doctor.”

  A fragment of lost memory clicked into place. “Now I do. That’s another piece of the past remembered.”

  “I’m glad.” She sat on the chair beside the examining table. “You should leave.”

  “I have things to tell you.”

  Her hands clenched. “What? About how good we are together? I know that the sex is great.”

  “That’s a given. Always was. There are other things.”

  She scowled. “If you want to talk about why you left, don’t bother. I know the reason.”

  “How could you?”

  “Maybe the accident and the amnesia blocked what you did other than standing me up.” She pushed to her feet.

  Rafe fisted his hands. He wanted to shake her until she listened. “Your father threatened me.” He clenched his jaw.

  “Wrong. He gave you money. You took twenty-five thousand dollars from him and rode away. You didn’t love me. You used me.”

  Rafe stepped toward her. “He never gave me a cent. He threatened to have me arrested for rape as soon as I turned nineteen.”

  “How medieval.” Manon pushed past him. “That must be a false memory pulled from your unconscious by some psychologist.”

  “Just a minute.”

  She continued forward. “Our affair is over. See yourself out. Don’t bother me again. Between you and Tom I want to smash something or someone.”

  “Don’t equate me with him.”

  Her office door slammed. Rafe stared at the wall. What now? There had to be a way to prove what he said was right.

  Chapter 8

  Manon locked her office door and leaned against the wood surface. How dare Rafe lie to her about the money? She had heard his name and the amount mentioned so often, what could she think other than he had accepted a bribe? Except Tom had been the one who had constantly reminded her and has also asked why she clung to the memory of a dead man. Maybe Tom had lied. She didn’t know what to believe.

  Her hands clenched. She fought dark memories of the time when she’s felt helpless and hopeless.

  “He’s not coming.”

  Her father’s words had brought anger and tears.

  Rafe’s dead.

  Her father hadn’t said that. At that moment she felt sure another voice had said those words. Had the same person told her about the money?

  She drew a deep breath. The news of the bribe had come at a later time. She couldn’t remember when. Her body shook. Had Tom lied? Rafe wasn’t dead. Maybe there’d been no money given or received. Who would know the truth?

  She pushed away from the door. Her hands trembled like willow leaves in the wind. She left the door and sank on the chair behind the desk.

  Rafe’s hints about her father were worse than the story of the money. Would her father have planned to create a scandal just so she would tour with him? Had he been sure Rafe would leave rather than see her in trouble?

  Her hands clenched as memories of those three years in Europe rose. The crowds, the applause, the attention had left her cold. Not her father. He had preened and strutted, animated by the fawning attention.

  A truth rose from those bitter thoughts. Her father would have done the things Rafe had hinted. Selfish and egotistical had been her father’s nature.

  When she heard the outer door close, she went to the window and watched Rafe ride away. Her hands and face pressed against the cold glass. Had he sped away tonight, just like he had the night of the accident? If he was hurt this time, would the fault be hers?

  Gloom shrouded her thoughts. Had sending him away been the right decision? Would she see him again? Why couldn’t he be satisfied with a physical relationship? He said he wanted a future. Having one would lead to heartache. She had to protect herself.

  She pulled her purse from the drawer, checked the examining room and walked to the door. Her shoulders slumped. She paused to straighten her spine. She was in control.

  As she stepped outside, she groaned. Tom stood on the sidewalk. What now? She wasn’t in the mood to deal with him. What was his goal today?

  He strode toward her. “You were with him. Haven’t you learned he’s trouble?” He snorted. “Something must have happened between you.”

  “If it has, it’s not your business.”

  “He rode off like a man who’d won the lottery.”

  Manon’s jaw locked on the words she wanted to scream. She threaded the keys between her fingers with the points out and prepared to attack. Tom’s persistent pursuit had grown intense since Rafe’s return. “Why would you think that/”

  “He flipped me off.”

  “That’s not unusual.’

  Tom stepped closer. “I don’t like you being with him.”

  Manon raised her hand and flashed the keys. “That’s not your concern. What I do and who I’m with isn’t your business.”

  “Did you ask him about the twenty-five grand your father gave him?”

  She sucked in a breath of the rose fragrant air. “You’re the one.” She hadn’t heard about the money on the night of the prom, but after her return from Europe and had begun med school. She edged past him and hurried to her car.

  “That sum would have bought a lot of booze and women.”

  Manon whirled. “You lied then and you’re lying now. Did my father pay you to start false rumors?”

  “I didn’t need his money. My parents have plenty.”

  “So what’s your point?”

  “Rafe had nothing but that old woman who pushed him into our school.”

  Manon reached the car. “What happened in the past should stay there. Do not say another word about Rafe. Stop stalking me.”

  “Your father liked me. He favored me. When he learned Rafe was gone, he told me I could have you. He even suggested I go to law school after obtaining my business degree. Then I could manage your career when he couldn’t.”

  Manon drew a deep breath. Her father could have told Tom those things. “Wouldn’t have happened.” She fumbled to hit the button to unlock the car door.

  Tom grasped her arm and turned her around. He ground his mouth against hers. Without a second thought, she jammed the keys into his belly. The heel of her hand connected with his nose. Blood spurted on her silk blouse. “Don’t ever do that again. Don’t come near me. I’ll get a restraining order.” She slid into the car, locked the doors and fished her phone from her purse.

  Tom rose from the ground. Manon waved the phone. He scurried away.

  Manon laughed. Did he think she was calling the police? Instead, she tapped her brother’s number. Jay might have an answer for her question. The phone rang and rang.

  Finally, she heard his voice. “This better be good.”

  “I’ve a quick question.”

  “I’ll take a stab.”

  “Remember my senior year in high school?”

  “Bit of a stretch."

  “Too cute. Did Father give Rafe money to stand me up on prom night and leave town?”

  Jay’s laughter made the phone vibrate. “Our father never gave a cent away. Anything he had he spent on himself. When you were on tour, did you ever receive a cent?”

  “No.”

  “Then why would you believe he gave money to Rafe?”

  Why? She had been angry at Rafe. She had grieved for him. Knowing he took money and died had seemed like a just punishment. “Someone told me.” That someone had been Tom. Why had he said that? She knew the answe
r. He’d wanted her to forget Rafe. He’d wanted to take Rafe’s place in her life.

  “Bet it was the weasel. Why do you tolerate him hanging around?”

  “He won’t listen when I tell him to leave.”

  “Wasn’t he the one who brought the news Rafe had died?”

  Manon gasped. The hazy memories of that night refused to clear. Could Tom have been the one? “Maybe but I’m not sure.”

  “He told everyone at graduation. That I remember.”

  Manon tapped the steering wheel. Maybe that was where she’d heard about the death. No. She heard those words on prom night.

  "I hear Rafe’s in town.”

  Jay’s voice broke into her thoughts. “He is. I’ve seen him.’

  “Next time tell him to stop by. Let him know he’s welcome to enter the house now. Did you know Father refused to allow him in?”

  “I’d forgotten.”

  Jay laughed. “That was our father. Make friends only with those who can be used. I think you and Rafe need to talk about what went wrong.”

  Manon released a sigh. “I’ll think about that." Talking to Rafe meant she would have to admit what she’d believed for years had been wrong. She could speak to him but the way he’d slammed the office door made her wonder if he would listen to her.

  “Sis, someone’s at the door. Talk soon.”

  Manon disconnected. Did her brother mean talking to him or Rafe?

  With a sigh she started the car and drove home. Once inside she headed to the bathroom and undressed. She soaked the silk blouse and her bra in cold water and hoped it wasn’t ruined. Then she stepped into the shower.

  As the warm water washed over her, she considered what she should do. Could she learn to trust Rafe the way she had years ago? Would he even talk to her? She’d demanded their interactions be strictly hospital related. Her views had changed. She’d just learned some of the truths she’d believed had been lies. The next move had to be hers.

  She dressed in shorts and a sleeveless knit shirt. In the kitchen she opened the cupboard and the freezer. Though hungry, nothing appealed. She saw the insulated bag on the counter. Suddenly she craved a bacon blue cheeseburger, giant fries and her favorite dessert. A laugh bubbled out.

  Yes.

  Before grabbing her purse and keys she called the hospital. Mrs. Patton answered the phone.

  “How are you this evening?” Manon asked.

  “Dreading tomorrow’s stress test,” the older woman said.

  “You’ll do fine. Could you do me a favor and give me Rafe’s address? I really do need to tell him something I’ve learned and to apologize.”

  “I don’t like to interfere.”

  “Please. What I have to say is important.”

  “Apartment 201 in the Fernwood complex. Building B.”

  “Thanks.” Manon hung up. Six thirty. Had he eaten dinner? Would he let her inside?

  * * *

  When Rafe left Manon’s office, the urge for a fast and reckless ride nearly caused him to risk a ticket by roaring out of town well above the speed limit. He pulled to the side of the road and sat while the bike rumbled beneath him. He wouldn’t run. No threat loomed this time. He was in Fern Lake to stay. So was Manon. And he was determined to win her.

  With a sudden thought he knew what to do. He kicked the stand and rode toward a house just outside the town limits. If anyone could convince Manon to listen, her brother, his friend could. Rafe hoped Jay was at home and would speak to him. Jitters caused him to miss the drive. He rode a short distance and turned.

  As he drove toward he massive stone house called the Castle by the residents of Fern Lake, he gathered his arguments. Years ago he hadn’t been welcome here. Maybe not today either since he’d never let Jay know he was alive. Had his friend believed the story of his death?

  As he parked the bike behind a black low slung sports car, Rafe hoped he wouldn’t interrupt one of Jay’s creative sessions. He pulled off his helmet and strode to the door. Here goes a chance to make a meeting with Manon go my way.

  When he pressed the bell, musical chimes sounded. Jay opened the door. He held a phone in his hand. “So rumors are true. Twelve years and no word. Knew you weren’t dead.”

  “Looks that way.”

  Jay punched his shoulder. “Come in.”

  Rafe grabbed his friend’s hand. “Looking good.”

  Jay led the way to the kitchen and pulled two beers from the refrigerator. “What kept you away?"

  “Things.”

  “Really. Have you been back since you roared out of town?”

  “I stayed for several months at Gran’s eleven years ago. Your place was deserted. Heard you were away at school.”

  “Julliard for me. Didn’t even come home for holidays. Manon in Europe. So what happened? Wasn’t like you to take off that way.”

  Rafe raised the beer. “Long story.”

  “Spill.”

  “Accident, broken bones, collapsed lung, amnesia, surgery, long rehab.”

  Jay laughed. “If that’s a long story, how does a short one go?” He raised his bottle and touched it to Rafe’s. “Guess Mrs. Patton knew you were alive. Why didn’t she tell people?”

  Rafe turned his bottle in circles on the table. “Cops believed the accident was deliberate. She was afraid whoever staged it would try again.”

  “Not my father. He was an ass but no killer.”

  Rafe sipped the beer. “I agree. He used a threat that would have hurt Manon unless I left.”

  “Figures. What kind of threat?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  Jay raised both hands. “Your call. What have you been doing all these years?”

  “Getting an education. Working. Seeing the country. Taming my wanderlust.”

  Jay leaned forward. “Seen Manon?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Not going well.”

  “You could say that.” Rafe set the bottle down. “I’ve tried to tell her what happened. I thought she’d vanished in Europe. Got married or something. Was rocked when Gran told me she was a doctor here. Your sister won’t believe anything I say.”

  Jay chuckled. “She’s stubborn. Don’t give up.”

  “Gave it my best shot. Her move now.” He rose. “I’d better go. I’m still unpacking.”

  Jay followed him to the door. “Tell me why you bailed on prom night.”

  “I told you before. Your father made threats. Figured I’d better head somewhere fast. Tried to call you. Your father answered and hung up. Then someone ran me off the road and left me for dead.”

  “Are you sure the accident was deliberate?” Jay asked. “Maybe you were upset and got careless.”

  “Not my call. The cops told Gran.”

  “Who?”

  Rafe reached for the doorknob. “Haven’t the slightest idea.” He paused. “Who told you I was dead?”

  “Manon. When I returned from the prom I heard her crying. ‘Rafe’s dead.’”

  “Maybe your father told her. I’m sure the news pleased him.”

  “I imagine so. Manon couldn’t tell me who brought the news. Do you think whoever told her was the one?”

  Rafe shrugged. “Could be.”

  “So you were dead. Manon gushing buckets of tears. She went to Europe and toured with Father.”

  “She didn’t stay.”

  Jay leaned against the door frame. “The minute she received her inheritance she left. She’s changed since that night. Become cold and distant. Work and more work is her life.”

  “How does that explain her refusal to talk about the past? She accused me of taking money from your father.”

  Jay snorted. “So I heard. Told her that was ridiculous. Also told her the story sounded like something the weasel invented. Our father never gave a cent away. Spent every dollar on himself. My sister never received any of the money they earned on the tour. Corner her and make her listen.”

  “Hasn’t worked. Guess it’s time to move on.”
>
  “As in leaving town.”

  Rafe laughed. “Not going to happen. I’m the hospital’s new director of nursing and I plan to become a fixture like Gran.”

  “That’s a switch.” Jay clapped Rafe’s shoulder. A set of notes sounded. Jay looked at the phone. “My agent. I have to take this.”

  Rafe stepped to the steps. “I’ll call and we can get together for dinner.”

  “Soon. Good luck with my sister.”

  Rafe donned his helmet and started the bike. He rode to the apartment and headed to the bathroom. After turning on the shower, he stripped and stepped into the stall. Was there a way to make Manon listen, short of tying her up? He chuckled. Now that was an idea to be considered at a later date.

  He dried and pulled on a pair of jogging shorts. He strode to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Eggs, milk, cheese, beer and assorted condiments. The cupboard revealed cereal, crackers, mac and cheese in a box and canned soup. There was tea and coffee. A grocery trip loomed but not tonight. He’d have one of the above.

  The doorbell rang. What now? He peered through the spy hole and laughed. Manon held a Burger Bounty bag. He opened the door.

  “Dinner,” she said. “Hope you haven’t eaten.”

  He stepped back. Was just deciding on something boring.”

  “Then I saved you.” She handed him one of the bags she held. “This has to go in the freezer. Let’s eat while the burgers are hot.”

  “I’d rather talk.”

  She made a face. “If I promise to listen after we eat, will you wait? I’m starved.” She opened the bag.

  The aroma of the burgers reached him. His stomach growled. “There’s your answer. Food followed by talk.”

  Manon winked. “And sex.”

  He brushed a kiss on her forehead. “Then we’ll make love.” By the time they finished talking surely she would understand the difference.

  She ran her hand over his chest. His abs tightened and his cock filled.

  “Nice,” she whispered. “We could take care of the sex first.”

  “Eat. Talk. Love. Anticipation is a tonic.” He took the second bag from her and led her to the kitchen. He placed the insulated bag on the table and the other in the freezer. With a bottle of catsup in one hand, he pulled a plate from the cupboard. Manon placed the burgers on the table and spilled the fries on the plate.