“I don’t know where he was planning on trying to meet you. The note on the side of his calendar says Bellamy House. Does that make sense?”
The uneasy feeling roared to life, his breath leaving his lungs in a rush. “Yeah, it does. Thanks Donna.” Disconnecting, he pressed down on the accelerator, revving the engine, hoping to make it home in time.
Calling Zander, he barked, “Almost home, but I think Eleanor might need some help. My slimy, former agent, who doesn’t like to take no for an answer, may be trying to get to her. Get over there as fast as you can.”
“You got it,” came the expected reply.
Sucking in a deep breath, he hoped he was wrong about where Marty might be heading, but was afraid his fears were right.
32
The man on the front stoop wavered slightly as he pulled himself up to his full height. Eleanor narrowed her eyes, catching a whiff of alcohol. Keeping one hand on the door, she cocked her head to the side, waiting for him to speak.
“I’m looking for Rafe Walker. He told me that he lives here.”
“Yes, he does. But he is…out right now.” Not wanting to offend a friend of Rafe’s, she hesitated, fighting the unease the man created. “I can have him call you when he gets back, if you would like.”
A slow smile spread across the man’s face as he reached out his hand to shake. “Martin Robbins. I’m a friend from California. A good friend. I was nearby on business and decided to drop in.”
She didn’t take his hand, but she did assure him, “I see, Mr. Robbins. I’ll make sure to let him know you were here.”
Seemingly unperturbed that she had refused his handshake, he pulled back. “He’s quite famous, you know. Such a face…a physique. His life was very full in California. Being seen with the rich and famous.” Chuckling, he amended, “Of course, they all wanted to be seen with him, since he had money and fame.”
Uncertain what to say, she tried to smile politely, but could feel it was more of a grimace. Sliding her hands into her pockets, she nervously waited to see what he would say.
“I was hoping that perhaps he would move back, or at least move his girlfriend here with him. She misses him so. They could live in Virginia and work from here. He called to ask me to set something up for them.”
“He did? When?”
Marty appeared to ponder before saying, “A week or so ago, I believe. Cherelle has been dying to be with him again.” He wavered on his feet, his eyes narrowing on her. “Cherelle. Cherelle Parkinson. You do know who that is, don’t you?”
Unsure what to say, she remained quiet, wondering why he was telling her this obviously false information. Maybe Rafe hasn’t told everyone in California his plans…or about me. Shaking her head slightly, she realized it was ridiculous for him to have talked about her since their relationship was so new.
Taking a step backward, she nodded dumbly, about to tell him once more that she would have Rafe call him. Suddenly, his hand flew out, slamming against the door, and he leaned forward. Startled, she jumped, her small movement giving him the advantage to step inside her house.
“You cannot make him happy, you know. It would be so much better for you to let him go.”
Eyes wide, her chest heaved with indignation. “You need to leave—”
“He was with her last night.” Taking advantage of her stunned silence, he lifted his hand, his phone screen facing forward.
Eleanor wanted to step back but her eyes landed on the phone, Rafe standing in an upscale bar, a statuesque, drop-dead gorgeous blonde leaning against him, her hand cupping his face while she kissed his cheek. The time stamp on the video did show yesterday.
Her eyes flickered between the video on replay and the cold eyes of the man standing in her foyer. Swallowing deeply, she said, “You need to leave.”
A smirk slowly curled his lips and he lowered the phone. “As you can see, my little beast, Rafe needs beauty. It’s his career…it’s his life.”
Jolting, she stared at his expression, thinking how much like the Grinch he resembled with his lips curved in a smiling snarl. How ugly he was. How…full of shit he is.
“I asked you to leave and now I’m telling you to leave. Immediately. And I’ll be sure to inform Rafe of your entire visit here. He’ll be thrilled to tell you to go to hell, but I’ll tell him that I’ve already said it to you.”
His smirk slid from his face, replaced by pure anger. “Are you fucking kidding me? The little kitten has claws—”
She threw up her hand in his face, and said, “Please spare me any more of your diatribe.” Laughing she added, “Do you really think your visit changes anything? That video you showed…his hands are at his side, not on her. Believe me when I say that when Rafe cares for a woman, his hands are not at his side.”
Marty reared back, bloodshot eyes wide, and opened his mouth, but she got there first.
“And the ridiculous story that Rafe needs beauty for his career and his life? You’re absolutely right…that’s why he’s a gifted horticulturist. He brings things to life that create beauty.”
Gathering his wits, he snarled, “You stupid girl. How long do you think your scarred body will hold his interest when he sees all of you—”
“Good God!” she yelled, throwing her hands up from her sides. “What do you not get? He has seen me naked, and,” leaning close, poking her finger at him, “he loves it.” Standing straight, she took a calming breath and finished by saying, “So, you can leave, or I can call the police.” Putting her hand back in her pocket, she pulled out her phone for him to see. “And, if you try more subterfuge, I’ve got this whole conversation on recording.”
Growling, Marty whipped his hand out, his fingers closing around her throat. “You bitch! You’re killing my career. Rafe’s got clients dropping me left and right. I have got to get you out of the picture!”
The smell of alcohol on his breath hit her full in the face and she looked up in fright, noting, for the first time, his dilated eyes. A noise outside drew his attention and her Army training took over. Quickly using her hands to disengage, she broke his hold on her throat just before kicking him in the groin.
As he dropped to the floor, the front door flew open, slamming against the wall, her foyer filling with large men. Gasping, she watched as Zander single-handedly put Marty in a choke hold. Before she had a chance to answer the questions flying at her, Rafe raced through the door, his eyes wild until they landed on her.
His heart in his throat, he rushed to her, scooping her into his embrace. “Baby, are you okay?”
She leaned back, taking him in, from his rumpled shirt to his mussed hair. The day-old beard was attractive but the dark circles under his eyes gave away his fatigue. Before she could assure him that she was fine, his eyes dropped to her neck, where they narrowed.
“What the hell did he do to you?” His eyes shifted from her bruised neck to the man Zander held with ease. Transferring her to Cael’s arms, he stalked over to Marty.
Rafe cocked his arm, Eleanor’s cry for him to stop the only thing that could have halted him at that moment. Jaxon and Jayden moved to either side, Jayden calming him.
“Man, we’ve called the police. Let them deal with his ass.”
He stood, his chest heaving with fury, and stared at the man now slumped against Zander. “What the hell were you thinking? If you had any career left, it’s gone after this.”
“You destroyed me after that article came out. Cherelle swore that kind of publicity would send you straight back to us but instead you dug your heels in to stay with her. And my client list began leaving me the next fucking day.”
“I didn’t destroy you,” Rafe bit out, feeling Jaxon move slightly away and the gentle touch of Eleanor’s arms encircling his waist. Wrapping his arm around her, pulling her in tightly, he added, “You did that to yourself. You and that stupid stunt Cherelle pulled last night.”
“I saw it,” Eleanor said softly, looking up at his hard face, a muscle twitching in his
jaw.
He swung his gaze down to her, his eyes wide, but she shook her head. “I didn’t believe it. I told him that when you’re with someone, your hands aren’t down at your side.”
His breath flew from his lungs as he stared into her trusting eyes. Nodding slowly, he leaned down, kissing her forehead. “Thank you, baby.”
“The police are here,” Asher said, opening the front door, allowing them entry. “Oh, and I hope you don’t mind, but I called the local press. Thought they’d like to get a story off this piece of shit being escorted out in cuffs.”
Still hanging on to his anger, Rafe just nodded, allowing Eleanor to give her statement and letting them take pictures of her neck. He was so proud of her when she did not hide her scars, instead showing them the bruises on both sides.
Jayden, Cael, and Asher talked to the reporter outside until the police took Marty to their cruiser. Cael, stepping back inside, said, “Eleanor, we’ve talked to the reporter, but you don’t have to.”
“No, no,” she said. “I want to.”
A squeeze on her waist caused her to look into Rafe’s eyes. “Babe, you don’t need to—”
She placed her palm on his chest, over his heart, and smiled. “It’s okay. It’s time I stopped hiding and came out into the light. I need to let others know that scars don’t define a person. But love can.”
His heart stuttered at her words and he watched her invite the two reporters inside, leading them to the living room. Before following her, he moved to his friends, thanking each of them.
Clasping his hand, Zander shook his head. “No thanks needed between brothers.” Looking over his shoulder, he said, “You go on in and make sure Eleanor is good. We’ll see you after y’all get some rest.”
Zeke grinned as he filed behind the others to leave. “You know, your girl is something else. She had him on the floor by the time we got here. Fucking brilliant to see him pissing himself.”
Dropping his chin to his chest, he took a deep breath, thinking about the danger she could have been in…and then the surprise Marty must have felt at having his balls kicked by a former female soldier. Looking up as Zeke clapped him on the back, he closed the front door after his friends and turned to head into the living room.
A week later, after a late-night walk around the gardens ending on the terrace, climbing roses in bloom all along the trellis, Rafe halted and turned Eleanor in his arms, pulling her tight. She looked up and smiled, lighting his world.
Suddenly nervous, he stumbled, “Do you remember us...uh…reading Jane Eyre? A while back?”
“Of course,” she replied. “I remember all the stories we read.”
“Well, there was something I wanted to ask you.” He peered into her eyes, her trust and love giving him courage. “ ‘I ask you to pass through life at my side—to be my second self, and best earthly companion.’ ”
Her eyes widened as she gasped, her fingers flexing on his arm. “For real?” she breathed.
Smiling, he said, “Of course. I want you at my side, to be my other half, for always.”
Jumping into his arms, she cried, quoting in return, “ ‘Then, sir, I willmarry you.’ ”
Miss Ethel sat in her kitchen, sipping her cup of tea, the Sunday newspaper spread out on the table in front of her. She perused the colorful picture of Rafe surrounded by the beautiful roses in the Bellamy House rose garden, smiling down at Eleanor, tucked into his side, her smile as wide as his.
Her eyes moved to the article’s headline and she read with interest.
The Rose Garden Beauties
Eleanor Bellamy celebrates with Rafe Walker over their plans to soon build Bellamy Center, an apartment and rehabilitation center for veterans suffering from burns. A former Army Reserve nurse, injured while serving in Afghanistan and enduring a long rehabilitation herself, Ms. Bellamy is excited to offer the center to other veterans who do not have a home to return to as they continue their convalescence after discharge.
Mr. Walker will soon be the owner of Walker Horticulture, providing the landscaping for the center as well as taking on a number of clients who desire the beauty of gardens surrounding them. He plans to use his landscaping skills to train interested burn victims and offering employment to those choosing to stay in the area. He stated that the cultivating of beauty is a positive rehabilitation in itself, and is eager to begin the service.
The two met under unusual circumstances and were recently the victim of a smear campaign calling the pair, Beauty and the Beast, a cruel joke by Mr. Walker’s former modeling agent. One only has to spend a moment in Ms. Bellamy’s presence to know that she is truly beautiful, both inside and out. And, one only has to spend a moment in the presence of both Ms. Bellamy and Mr. Walker, to see that they are truly in love.
For readers who know of veteran burn victims that would benefit from the Bellamy Center, please contact either Ms. Bellamy or Mr. Walker at the address below.
Closing the newspaper, she leaned back, a smile on her lips as she sipped her tea, the scent of roses wafting through the open window.
33
Six Months Later
The violins played softly as the small group gathered in the formal living room of Bellamy House. Rafe stood in front of the fireplace, nervously tugging on the tie’s knot at his neck.
“You good?” Zander asked, standing next to him.
“Yeah,” he whispered back.
“Hell, as much as you used to be in front of the camera, you think you’d be used to the attention.”
“That was all pretend. This is real,” he retorted. Eyeing Miss Ethel, sitting in one of the chairs facing him, her smile calmed him.
Rosalie walked toward them, smiling at Zander, giving Rafe a wink as she neared.
“She looks relaxed,” Rafe commented, then turned his head to see Zander’s complete attention on his wife. Just then the musicians began playing Pacabell’s Cannon in D and his head jerked to the living room doors, his heart starting its staccato all over again. And then she appeared.
Eleanor, on the arm of Mr. Thomas, walked toward him. Her dress was ivory, the form-fitting bodice flowing out into a skirt of simple satin. Around her neck was the pearl necklace her mother had worn when she married Eleanor’s father, and her grandmother before that. Her hair was pulled away from her face, draping down her back in waves, no longer worn to cover the scars on her neck. Her beauty took his breath away and for a moment he had to remind himself to breathe. Before he knew it, she was at his side, slipping her hand into his.
As they stood in front of their friends, they pledged their vows to each other. After slipping the ring on her finger, they kissed before staring into each other’s eyes. Just before walking back down the aisle, Eleanor looked over the fireplace, her heart light as she viewed her family smiling back from their portrait, a rose resting in her mother’s hand.
Five Years Later
Eleanor walked out of her office, past the fitness room, smiling at the few men and women inside working with the physical therapist. Making her way past the kitchen, she stopped to talk to the ones that were there with the occupational therapist, learning various techniques of holding utensils with their scarred hands.
The center had been built, passed the many qualifications needed to open, and now was fully functional, staying at capacity. People from across the country had visited, starting similar centers elsewhere.
Passing by the newest room, a child care center, she stood at the door, watching as several of the veterans were in the process of being certified in child care. One child, in particular, captured her attention.
Rory…her and Rafe’s son, now four years old. He had been raised around the various burn scars the veterans had, many disfiguring. And like most children, who absorb what is in their world, he saw no difference in their appearance. Waving at the workers, she continued through the building.
Going through the back door, she held her hand over her eyes to offer shade, while casting her gaze around. Finding
what she was seeking, she smiled as she walked toward the large, dark-haired man standing in the middle of a group of clients. As she made her way closer, she could see him explaining the merits of a gas-powered hedge trimmer, while also making it clear that if needed, one that was lighter in weight could be just as good.
“Only you can determine what is the best machine for you. Use what feels natural.”
Rafe instructed the group to try the various tools and as they moved away with enthusiasm, he watched Eleanor approach. His smile widened as he opened his arms, welcoming her into his embrace.
No words were spoken for several minutes as they stood, hearts beating as one.
That night Eleanor walked up the back stairs to the bedroom now decorated in blue and green. She heard the soft sound of voices and stopped at the doorway to peek in. Lifting her fingers to her lips, she stifled a chuckle, seeing her large husband’s nightly routine of perching on the small bed with Rory curled up next to him as he read. Tonight’s choosing was the Disney’s Beauty and the Beast book. Rory had watched the movie numerous times and it was one of his favorites.
“Please don’t leave me,” Belle sobbed. “I love you.”
“Daddy, if you were a beast, would Mommy love you?”
“Yes, she would love me no matter what.”
“And if she were a beast, would you love her?”
“Of course, I would love your mother.”
Rory thought for a moment before lifting his child’s face to his father. “And if I were a beast?”
Eleanor stepped into the room, settling next to the bed, reaching over to hug both her son and her husband. “My dear, silly. Beast or Beauty, we would all love each other.”
Rafe: Heroes at Heart Page 22
