by SpursFanatic
“Tarin-”
She waved his concern away. “Do not concern yourself, Rafe. It is insignificant.”
“It’s not insignificant if it has upset you.”
Laying her hand against his vest, she smiled up at him. “I am not upset. I am excited, anxious for our announcement.”
Frowning, he covered the hand on his chest with his own. “This is your last chance to change your mind…”
Shaking her head, she assured him. “I am certain.”
An inner light lit his dark eyes as he graced her with one of his knee-weakening smiles. She admonished herself for allowing his smile to affect her so. Would she do this the rest of her days?
“I want to introduce you to Beau and Rosa.”
With Isabel standing beside her, Rafe turned her towards his family. She came face-to-face with Rosa Mendoza and felt an immediate intimidation, an inferiority she had never experienced before.
Rosa’s beauty was staggering. Her whiskey-colored eyes shown like amber stones, her fawn-colored skin utter perfection, save for a mole on her right cheek. Blue highlights shimmered in her jet black hair, while her tiny bow mouth appeared as though a painter had created it just for her.
Fisting her hands in her skirts, Tarin told herself that she could not allow jealousy to overwhelm her. This woman had traveled across the country to find her one connection to life after losing all she had. She could not blame her for falling in love with Rafe. She had done so herself.
Tarin pasted on her most pleasant smile. “Rosa, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.”
The woman’s heavy, Spanish accent only added to her appeal. “Asimismo, usted es una mujer afortunada.”
“She says you are a fortunate woman.”
While Tarin had picked up some of the translation herself, she turned to the voice that had completed it for her. Ice green eyes smiled into hers from a face that could only be called beautiful - in a man or woman. Yet, the man standing before her was no dandy but a man nearly as masculine as Rafe. How he carried it off, she was not certain. But, carry it he did - with regal composure and absolute confidence. Almost as though he were born of royalty.
“This is my friend, Beauregard St. John.” Rafe placed a hand at her back. “He served with me in the Rangers.”
“Are you certain, Rafe?” she teased when Beau winked at her. “He has nary a scratch.”
Rafe laughed as Beau’s eyes twinkled.
“That’s because I was smart enough to avoid the scrapes rather than look for them.”
“More likely because I was always jumping in front of you to save your hide,” Rafe retorted.
Tarin could see the genuine affection and admiration between the two men. She surmised that they had most likely saved each other a time or two. There was no greater loyalty than that born of tragedy.
“Are we ready?” Henry asked, his eyes wide below raised brows, his face alight with a hope Tarin had never seen before.
“Yes, father,” she replied, as she leaned up and kissed his cheek.
All eyes were on her father as he made the grand announcement. A collective gasp echoed throughout the room as all eyes shot to them. She spotted Randall Kent not far away, half hidden behind a curtain. His squinting eyes bored into her, his jaw stiff. He shook his head slowly. Tarin clutched Rafe’s arm.
As expected, she and Rafe were immediately engulfed in well wishes and congratulations. A line formed beside them as they received their friends and acquaintances. Soon, each remark blurred into the next until Tarin found herself drifting off. Her ears picked up a conversation a few people deep in line. Two of the Brahmin’s elite ladies spoke behind their hands.
“Well, of course he is marrying her for her money. Sutherland Shipping has suffered greatly since Colin’s sudden death.”
Stiffening, Tarin honed in more closely.
The second woman said, “What I can’t understand is why she agreed to it? You know it was not arranged by Henry because the foolhardy man agreed to allow her free choice of a husband. But Rafe Sutherland? Granted, he used to be such a dapper, handsome young man but now…”
Gritting her teeth, Tarin squeezed her eyes shut. Well, she knew two people that would not receive wedding invitations. But what concerned her more than their horrid gossip was any truth that may lie within it.
Had Rafe asked to marry her for her money?
How could a man show her - share with her - the intimacy and lovemaking they had experienced in the garden if he did not care for her? Granted, they had not professed their love for each other, but in her heart of hearts she knew love existed.
Tarin pasted on a smile for the next guest. Was she only fooling herself?
When she looked at Rafe, felt his strength and support beside her, doubt became nonexistent. Yet, when reality and past experience shoved their way into her thinking, she wondered if her love for him had blinded her to his true agenda.
Stop it, Tarin. He told you he wanted no one but you. Must he prove himself?
Shaking her head as if to clear it, Tarin lifted her chin and pasted on a smile. Neither Dr. Kent nor these two biddies were going to ruin her engagement. The man she loved had asked her to marry him. Why borrow trouble?
Chapter 13
While Dr. Kent’s ominous words worried Tarin, Rafe made any doubts she had about his sincerity disappear.
When she and her father arrived at the Sutherland home for dinner the following evening, Rafe made a point of pulling her aside prior to entering the parlor. Holding her close, he asked about her day, kissing each of her fingertips as she tried to speak. His dark eyes black with desire, he told her he had missed her and was glad she had come.
Tarin did well to breathe.
As wedding plans were discussed, Rafe always sought her opinion and approval. When the question of whether Patrick or Beau would stand up for Rafe, Beau graciously bowed out and agreed to escort Isabel.
Much to Tarin’s relief, Rosa seemed at ease with the wedding conversation and had even agreed to accompany her, Kit and Isabel to the dress fitting. If the smile on Patrick’s face was any indication, he was pleased with her acquiescence as well.
Once all of the details were decided and the date set for one month to the day, the families made plans to meet at the Commons the following day for the Independence Day festivities.
Rather than allowing her father to escort her home, Rafe rode with them to spend a few extra minutes with her. Upon arrival at the house, Rafe was the proper gentleman in front of her father and saw her to the door. He kissed her hand and told her he would be fortunate to sleep the night with thoughts of her in his head.
She now understood why all of the women had loved him. His charm was positively lethal.
And he was using it in full force the following day when she and Kit found him at Mrs. Miller’s taffy booth, sampling her popular candy.
“Beware of this one, Mrs. Miller,” Tarin said, as they came to stand beside Rafe and Beau. “Or, you will find yourself without inventory.”
The men laughed around mouthfuls of candy as Mrs. Miller smiled at Tarin.
“Dear heart, I have known this one since he was a boy.” She pointed at Rafe. “Nothing has changed with adulthood. Although I doubt he now has time to sweep the store to make up for the candy he’s eaten.”
Smiling, Rafe kissed Tarin’s hand before placing it on his arm. “My father used to make me sweep her shop at least once a week to make up for the candy I ate. And that was after he beat me for being there instead of with the tutor.”
Tarin sighed, feigning despair. “I hope this is not a prelude to our days of raising children.”
“I’m afraid Lady Worthington may find her husband and children sweeping that store,” Beau chimed in, winking at Kit.
“Do not let her proper façade fool you.“ Kit tipped her head towards Beau and said out of the side of her mouth, “Tarin is quite the fan of Mrs. Miller’s taffy herself.”
Tarin squinted at Kit. Le
ave it to her best friend to reveal one of her secret passions.
“So, it will be a family affair,” Beau pronounced, as he conspired with Kit. “Not unlike a family picnic or say, an evening of games.”
“Exactly!“ Kit’s infectious laughter tinkled on the air.
Tarin could not help but laugh at their antics.
Rafe shook his head. “Sweetheart, I think we need to question our choice in friends.”
Tarin nodded. “I’m sure we can find more agreeable people in this crowd.”
Releasing her hand, Rafe reached into his pocket and handed Mrs. Miller enough money to cover all of the candy she had to sell that day. Grinning, he grabbed one more fistful of taffy and placed it in Tarin‘s hand.
“While not nearly as sweet as my betrothed, it does come in second.” He gave the wide-eyed Mrs. Miller a brisk nod before leading Tarin away.
Offering his arm to Kit, Beau fell in step beside Rafe.
“That was most kind of you.” Tarin squeezed Rafe’s arm.
Staring down at her, Rafe covered her hand with his. The warmth of his touch made her sigh.
“You bring out the best in me.”
“Really?” She smiled up at him, wishing he would kiss her again right there, in the middle of the park. “I recall quite a few… disagreements between us.”
His dimpled grin was devilish. “All the more to make up for in private.”
Heat bloomed in her face as she cocked an eyebrow. “Mr. Sutherland, you do have a devious mind.” She lowered her voice as she stared up into his handsome face. “Although I do like the way you think.”
Eyes glittering with male interest, Rafe leaned closer, drawing her gaze to his mouth. “Do not tempt me, woman.”
Feeling impish, she replied, “Oh, but I find that is all I want to do these days.”
He growled low in his throat. “You are going to be the death of me, Lady Worthington.” He kissed the top of her hand again.
Hugging his arm, she snuggled against his side as they strolled the Commons in the mid-afternoon sun. The park was filled with families enjoying the July 4th celebration. Children ran about carrying small American flags. Ladies strolled in and out of the booths selling anything from crafts to accessories, jams, jellies and other canned goods. Men congregated near the target practice, holding mugs of beer and smoking cigars. The scent of freshly baked pies wafted through the air, making her mouth water, while laughter and conversation mingled with the patriotic tunes of a local band. Tarin hummed The Star Spangled Banner as she strolled with Rafe.
“It is getting hard to move in this crowd,” Rafe commented, as he allowed Tarin to precede him through a particularly tight pack.
Beau did the same with Kit. “I see your mother just up ahead, Rafe.”
Getting poked and bumped as Rafe helped her through the crowd, Tarin suddenly found herself in a small clearing - facing the barrel of a gun.
She caught her breath. Her legs wouldn’t move. All she could see was the black, endless tunnel pointed at her face. All she could hear was the uncontrollable pounding of her heart.
All she could think about was getting Rafe away from the gunman.
Suddenly, she found herself on the ground with her hands propped behind her. She watched in horror as Rafe walked headlong into the line of fire.
“Rafe, no!” The words ripped from her throat, leaving a trail of raw fear in their wake.
The gun went off. Something splintered behind her. Tarin screamed Rafe’s name again.
He was hurt. She knew it. He was at point-blank range. There was no way he could have survived the shot unscathed. She scrambled to her knees.
“You sonuvabitch.” Rafe snatched the smoking gun from the man’s hand. The man’s eyes widened in horror. Pulling back, Rafe slammed his fist into the man's nose before backhanding him across the face with the butt of the gun.
Blood splattered Rafe's clothes. The man dropped to the ground. Rafe jammed his boot at the man’s throat and held the gun in his face. The man gargled, struggling for breath.
“Give me the gun, Rafe.” Beau clutched Rafe’s shoulder.
Rafe’s eyes were dark, fierce, wild when he looked at Beau. Though outwardly calm, he radiated anger and violence. As though it would take only a spark to set him ablaze.
“Is she well? Is Tarin well?”
She watched as Beau nodded and held out his hand. “Go to her, Rafe. I’ll watch him.”
When he turned around, Tarin caught her breath. Never had she seen a more frightening sight. Rafe’s dark brown eyes were feral, wide beneath his deep frown. The scar on his cheek stood out bright red, the lines around his mouth tight and etched like stone. His shoulders appeared twice their normal size, the fists at his sides clutched in white-knuckled grips.
Yet, it was the blood splattered across his chest that brought it all home for her.
He could have been killed. Should have been killed.
He had walked straight into danger without a thought for his own safety. Did he really value his life so little? Did he really care so little for her that he would risk their future that way?
“Tarin, are you well?” He knelt before her, his palms clutching her cheeks. Worry etched a crease between his brows, filled the black of his glittering eyes.
All she could do was stare at the blood. Just inches from her face, the sight made all of her fears surface. She would lose him, just like her mother. It was just a matter of time.
“No.” She shoved against his chest. She didn’t realize she was crying until she tasted tears on her lips. Rising to her feet, she backed away from him. “Get away from me.”
Pulling his head back, Rafe frowned as he clutched her arms. “Tarin? What is it? Have you been hurt?” His eyes searched her from head to toe.
Pounding her fists against his chest, she cried, “You could have been killed! Have you so little regard for your life?”
“Tarin, I‘m fine.” His voice appeared calm, soothing.
She shoved away from his grasp. “By the grace of God!” Pointing in the direction of the gunman, she cried, “He shot at you point blank and you never flinched.”
“I had no choice. I had to protect you.”
“It is not protection at the risk of your own life!”
“Tarin…” he tried to pull her against his chest.
She wouldn’t go near him - or the blood. “How can I care for someone who cares so little for his own life, when I live to save lives?” She backed away, shaking her head, and ran into Kit.
“Tarin, you’re upset,” Rafe said, trying to take her hand.
She snatched it away. “No, I’ve come to my senses.” Turning around, she realized they had the attention of the entire park. Silence dominated the scene, with sympathetic, solemn faces surrounding her. Isabel, Patrick, Rosa and her father stood behind Kit, who had tears trickling down her cheeks.
She heard Beau speak. “Rafe, the police want to take him away. Do you want to question him?”
“Tarin, don’t do this.” Rafe’s voice was quiet, low, stilling her in her tracks.
She clutched her stomach. Holy God above, she ached. The note of anguish in Rafe’s voice nearly undid her. She wanted nothing more than to turn around and run to his arms.
But she couldn’t. It would be temporary insanity in a world where long term reason was necessary.
She caught a sob in her throat. I love you, Rafe.
She walked away without a backward glance.
#####
"Start talking, you sonuvabitch, or I’ll take you out back and finish what I started.”
Shoving Duncan back in the chair, Rafe straightened to his full height. He was not in the mood to pussyfoot around, dammit. He needed to get out of there and get to Tarin. Despite Henry’s request to give her time, Rafe was determined to see her.
“I don’t have to talk to you. You’re not the police.”
Duncan spat on the cell floor, an inch from Rafe’s boot. Staring down at the
puddle, Rafe slowly raised his head. This guy was a glutton for punishment.
Hands on hips, Rafe glared at Duncan through narrowed eyes. The man’s face was a bloody mess and he was itching to make it bloodier. His nose was twice its original size and broken. Dark rings were already forming beneath his swollen eyes. He stunk to high hell and had more empty holes in his mouth than he had teeth. He was cocky for a man arrested on attempted murder charges.
But not for long.
The police were more than happy to let Rafe and Beau do the questioning. Especially once Henry Worthington tossed his money around. Duncan had more to explain than attempted murder. And Rafe wasn’t leaving until he had all of the answers he needed.
Stepping over to the bed, Rafe propped his foot on the mattress. Bending, he pulled the knife from his boot. He held the blade in front of his face, pretending to study it. “What is your connection to Randall Kent?”
The man’s eyes widened as far as they could -- considering.
“What? Did you think I didn’t know about your relationship with Kent?” Rafe lowered the blade to stare at the bastard. “I’ve seen you on Hunter’s dock. Did he put you up to this?”
The man glanced at Beau, who leaned against the bars. He looked back at Rafe and said nothing.
With a heavy sigh, Rafe straightened. “Go ahead, St. John. Let’s get this over with.”
Pulling away from the bars, Beau sauntered across the cell as he pulled a slim, gold case from his inside coat pocket. Stopping in front of Duncan, Beau flicked it open. The man jumped. Inside were several long, thin shoots of sharp bamboo.
Duncan shook his head violently. “No!”
“Are you ready to talk?” Rafe leaned down in his face.
The man’s eyes were glued to Beau’s hand. When Duncan said nothing, Rafe gave a curt nod. Beau went to work. He grabbed Duncan’s hand and pinched the center of it, forcing his fingers wide. Grabbing one of the bamboo shoots, Beau moved to shove it under the nail of his forefinger.
Duncan screamed like a pussy. “Aye, aye!”
Beau straightened away and stepped aside. Duncan shook his hand out, flexing his fingers.
