Rafe: Heroes at Heart

by Maryann Jordan

  Rafe

  Heroes at Heart

  Maryann Jordan

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Author Information

  Author’s Notes

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  33. Six Months Later

  Rafe (Heroes at Heart) Copyright 2018

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, then you are reading an illegal pirated copy. If you would be concerned about working for no pay, then please respect the author’s work! Make sure that you are only reading a copy that has been officially released by the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by: Becky McGraw

  Editor: Shannon Brandee Eversoll

  Proofreader: Myckel Anne Phillips

  ISBN: 978-1-947214-10-1

  Created with Vellum

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, I have to thank my husband, Michael. Always believing in me and wanting me to pursue my dreams, this book would not be possible without his support. To my daughters, MaryBeth and Nicole, I taught you to follow your dreams and now it is time for me to take my own advice. You two are my inspiration.

  My best friend, Tammie, who for over twenty years has been with me through thick and thin. You’ve filled the role of confidant, supporter, and sister.

  My other best friend, Myckel Anne, who keeps me on track, keeps me grounded, and most of all – keeps my secrets. Thank you for not only being my proofreader and my Marketing PA, but friend. I do not know what I would do without you in my life.

  My beta readers kept me sane, cheered me on, found all my silly errors, and often helped me understand my characters through their eyes. A huge thank you to Denise, Sandi, Barbara, Jennifer, Danielle, Tracey, Lynn, Stracey, and Jamila for being my beta girls who love alphas!

  Shannon Brandee Eversoll as my editor and Myckel Anne Phillips as my proofreader gave their time and talents to making all my books as well written as it can be.

  My street team, Jordan Jewels, you all are amazing! You volunteer your time to promote my books and I cannot thank you enough! I hope you will stay with me, because I have lots more stories inside, just waiting to be written!

  My Personal Assistant Barbara Martoncik keeps me going when I feel overwhelmed and I am so grateful for not only her assistance, but her friendship.

  Most importantly, thank you readers. You allow me into your home for a few hours as you disappear into my characters and you support me as I follow my indie author dreams.

  Author Information

  I am an avid reader of romance novels, often joking that I cut my teeth on the historical romances. I have been reading and reviewing for years. In 2013, I finally gave into the characters in my head, screaming for their story to be told. From these musings, my first novel, Emma’s Home, The Fairfield Series was born.

  I was a high school counselor having worked in education for thirty years. I live in Virginia, having also lived in four states and two foreign countries. I have been married to a wonderfully patient man for thirty-seven years. When writing, my dog or one of my three cats can generally be found in the same room if not on my lap.

  Please take the time to leave a review of this book.

  Feel free to contact me, especially if you enjoyed my book. I love to hear from readers!

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  Author’s Note

  I have lived in numerous states as well as overseas, but for the last twenty years have called Virginia my home. All my stories take place in this wonderful commonwealth, but I choose to use fictional city names with some geographical accuracies.

  These fictionally named cities allow me to use my creativity and not feel constricted by attempting to accurately portray the areas.

  It is my hope that my readers will allow me this creative license and understand my fictional world.

  I also do quite a bit of research on my books and try to write on subjects with accuracy. There will always be points where creative license will be used to create scenes or plots.

  As an adolescent counselor for over twenty-five years, I had the opportunity to work with many young people. One young man, upset over a poor choice he had made, came to me. As I listened to his story and his confession, I told him that the true measure of a man was not in the mistakes he made, but in how he handled those mistakes. I remember the look on his face when I told him I was sure he was going to be a good man.

  So, this book is dedicated to all the students over the years who allowed me to be a part of their lives.

  1

  Rafe wiped his bloody nose, smearing his dirty face streaked with tears. Shuffling home from school he kept his head down, eyes on the sidewalk. Normally, he enjoyed looking at the yards on either side of the street, but not today.

  He liked the way the homeowners tended their yards in the neighborhood. Some with flowerbeds lining front walks, others with evergreen shrubs hugging the fronts of the porches. He knew the houses were old, but that’s why the oak trees were so large, their acorns dropping in great number every year. To him, the trees definitely made up for the age of the houses. The maple trees with their red, early-spring leaves, stood as sentinels in front of many of the homes.

  Azalea bushes, their pink flowers mixed in with the box hedges, created pockets of floral color amidst the lush green. Crepe Myrtle trees, late to leaf, would burst forth in colors of pink, fuchsia, and white in mid-summer, lining the sidewalks with their beauty, along with the stately Magnolias.

  The house at the end of the street, its yard just as pristine and carefully tended, loomed ahead and his pace slowed as he swiped a hand across his face once more. Sucking in a shuddering breath, he heard running footsteps coming down the sidewalk from behind. Cael and Asher pulled along either side of him, both with faces full of concern.

  “Don’t cry, Rafe. Zander’s taking care of him,” Cael said.

  The news did not make him feel any better. After all, Zander should not be fighting his battles. Before he had a chance to respond, he heard more running footsteps coming from behind. This time, the twins, Jaxon and Jayden, caught up, Jaxon grinning from ear to ear.

  “Zander’s busted his nose and given him a black eye!” Jaxon called out in glee, hopping from one foot to the other, his fists out jabbing the air.

  Jayden, his voice softer, said, “Come on, Rafe. Let’s get you inside so Miss Ethel can take a
look at you.”

  Rounding on his friends, he glared, “No. I don’t want her to know.”

  The boys stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, all staring up at Rafe as he made another swipe at his eyes. He pulled up the hem of his shirt, beginning to wipe the dirt, tears, and blood, but his hand was stopped by Jayden. Bending down to open his backpack, Jayden pulled out an old shirt from his PE class.

  “Here, use this. Then Miss Ethel won’t see the blood and wonder what’s going on.”

  Tossing a grateful nod his way, Rafe took the t-shirt and carefully cleaned his face. Looking down at it, he asked, “How you gonna explain this?”

  “I’ll just tell her I got bloodied in a basketball game in PE. She’ll get it all washed up and won’t be the wiser.”

  Nodding, he handed the shirt back, then heard more pounding footsteps coming from behind. Zander, the oldest, his face split with a huge grin, came flying around the corner, skidding to a stop at their gathering. “I got him good. Dickie was pissing his pants by the time I got through with him.”

  Wide-eyed, Asher asked, “You gonna get in trouble?”

  “Nah,” Zander bragged. “When I said he was pissing his pants, I meant, he was really pissing. I threatened that if he told anyone, then I’d tell them all about his wet pants.”

  The others broke into grins, and even Rafe had to admit, it made him happy to know that his nemesis had been so easily taken care of. Zander was older by a year, and already thirteen. At twelve, Rafe had Zander’s height, but the gawkiness that plagued most pre-teen boys was in full force with him. His hands and feet appeared too large, while his arms and legs seemed too skinny. Awkward and ugly...that’s what Dickie had called him. A beast. Shrek. An ogre.

  Miss Ethel told him that he would be a big man, like his father, but he wanted to be big now. Waiting is too hard. That thought sobered him. His father. He wished he knew what his father would have thought of him now. Would he be proud or embarrassed of me? The unknown answer to that question haunted him, especially when he lay in bed at night, listening to Zander and Cael sleeping. It was getting harder and harder to remember his dad’s face…or his mom’s. Miss Ethel made sure he had pictures, but it was not the same.

  Startled out of his morose musings by laughter from the others, he tried to smile as Zander threw his arm around his shoulders, tugging him along the sidewalk, saying, “Come on, Rafe. It’ll be fine.”

  “That’s easy for you to say,” Rafe grumbled. “You manage to scare all the bullies…I just manage to attract them.”

  Zander looked him up and down before shaking his head. “You’re already almost as tall as I am. You remember what Miss Ethel said about that puppy we rescued? She took one look at his paws and told us he was gonna be a big dog. Said he’d grow into those huge paws and, sure enough, he did.”

  Rafe bumped Zander’s shoulder, hiding his grin with a scowl, “You callin’ me a dog?”

  The others laughed as they turned into the front gate of Miss Ethel’s house, their footsteps slowing.

  “Uh oh,” the twins said in unison. The whole gang looked up toward the front porch, spying Miss Ethel standing on the top step. Her grey hair was neatly pulled back in her old-fashioned bun at the back of her head. A light blue striped shirt-dress, belted at the waist, emphasized her tall, thin frame. Sharp blue eyes peered at them from behind wire-frame glasses. Her face, with its usual smile in place, still made the boys scuffle along.

  “Don’t say anything,” Zander warned. “No way she coulda heard about it.”

  “Are you kidding,” Cael whispered. “She knows everything. I don’t know how…maybe she’s got magical powers.”

  Rafe glanced around at his five brothers as each attempted an innocent expression, but he knew there was no way Miss Ethel was going to be fooled.

  Zander urged him on, saying, “I got this. It’s all on me.”

  Once again, Zander was stepping up to fight his battles. Squaring his shoulders, Rafe pulled himself up to his full height. As they met Miss Ethel at the top of the stairs, she greeted each of them, her smile sincere. Hugs all around and offers of homemade cookies on the kitchen table had them scurrying inside. The last one to enter, he stopped as her hand landed on his shoulder. Looking up, his heart pounding, he met her smile as she peered deeply into his eyes.

  “Are you okay, son?” she asked, her voice as calm and warm as always.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he lied, his palms now sweating.

  “Your day go okay at school?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he lied again.

  Her thin hand patted his shoulder and she nodded, her smile still in place. “Well, you go on in and get some cookies for yourself before the others take them all. I made chocolate chip oatmeal…your favorite.”

  With that, he hurried inside, glad he had gotten away with the deception and determined to not miss out on her treats.

  That evening, after supper had been served on the large, old, scarred dining room table, they all settled around, some spilling into the living room, their homework spread out before them. Rafe, finished with his math problems, closed the book, looking out into the living room.

  Miss Ethel was ensconced in her wing-back chair with her knitting bag at her feet, her hands busy with the needles as she kept an eye on the twins sitting on the worn, braided rug on the floor nearby. Occasionally, they would ask a question, and then she began quizzing them on their spelling words. Cael and Asher sat on the couch, working on a writing assignment, a dictionary on the coffee table in front of them. Zander, at the table with Rafe, had finished his homework and, per usual, had a large, fiction book open in front of him, lost in the words. Rafe had no doubt that Zander would be reading to them before they went to bed.

  He smiled at the thought. It did not seem to matter how old they got, Zander’s stories at night seemed to chase away the worst memories…for all of them. With a sigh, he thought of how they all came to be with Miss Ethel. He knew he was lucky, he had had wonderful parents. But traveling on a wintry highway ended with a deadly crash and, with no other relatives, he ended up in the foster system.

  His eyes sought out Miss Ethel again, a small smile slipping over his face. He knew he was lucky—he had heard some stories, from the other boys who had passed through her home, of foster families that were not so good. But Miss Ethel? Even the social workers claimed she was the best. His gaze drifting over the room again, he took in the five boys that had stayed with her the longest, all like brothers to him now. They had vowed their friendship and sealed it with an oath.

  As though hearing his thoughts, Miss Ethel looked over, her smile landing on him. He could swear she had untold wisdom in her eyes. Sucking in a quick breath, he gave a nod before opening another book.

  Later that night, after she tucked Asher, Jaxon, and Jayden into their beds in their room, she crossed the hall to the room he shared with Zander and Cael. Both rooms contained a bunk bed set and twin bed, allowing three boys a place to sleep. A shared bathroom was at the end of the hall. There was one other small bedroom with a single bed and connecting bathroom upstairs but Miss Ethel kept that ready for an emergency child, one who might be overwhelmed with the others. She had said the oldest could have it for their room, but Zander preferred sharing with the others. Miss Ethel’s room was downstairs, across from the kitchen.

  The furniture in each bedroom was old, but clean. For some of them, it was the nicest place they had ever known. For him, Rafe remembered a similar room in his parents’ house.

  Pajamas on, teeth brushed, backpacks ready for the next day, the three of them were piled in their beds ready for Zander to read another story from his large edition of abridged classics. They especially loved the fairy tales and were not ashamed to admit it. Perhaps, they all felt the need to believe in happy endings after their unpleasant beginnings in life.

  Zander looked up as Miss Ethel entered and sat on the foot of his bed. She sat primly, her back straight and her hands folded in her lap.

>   The serene expression on her face did not change, as she asked, “Now boys, I think there are some things you need to talk to me about.” The room was quiet, so she continued, “I would like to think that you trusted me enough to talk to me.”

  Zander opened his mouth, “It was me, Miss Ethel—”

  “No, ma’am, it wasn’t,” Rafe blurted, his heart rate speeding. Not knowing how she knew about the fight, he watched as she swung her warm gaze on him and he continued. “Dickie Malten was teasing me again today. Calling me Shrek and ogre and beast, and…other things. He says I’m too ugly to live.” Swallowing back the shame, he admitted, “So I took a swing at him. I missed…but then he hit me in the nose. I jumped on top of him, still swinging. Don’t expect I did much to him other than just make him mad.”

  “Rafe was just defending himself, Miss Ethel. I was the one who jumped in and started punching,” Zander confessed. “Honest, Dickie deserved it.”

  Nodding as she listened, Miss Ethel said, “No doubt.”

  That response drew surprise from all of them, including Jaxon, Jayden, and Asher, who had snuck out of bed, their curiosity getting the better of them.

  “You know, sometimes I have wondered about raising so many boys all alone, knowing that you are missing a man’s hand in your upbringing.”

  Zander immediately protested. Rafe knew his best friend had never had a good man in his life so he didn’t know what he could be missing. But he was right, Miss Ethel was amazing all on her own.