Redeeming Rafe

by Alicia Hunter Pace

  Rafe wished he could see them. Was he touching her? Looking at her pearls? Thinking impure thoughts?

  “I’m a Bruins fan, cradle to grave.”

  “I thought you Southern women cared more for American football and knew nothing of hockey.”

  “But I’m not a Southern woman. I’m from Boston—and I know hockey. I’ll be impressed with football when they do it on skates and play eighty-two games a year.”

  Hey, Abby! I’m a little offended here. My brother plays football.

  “Here, here!” said goalie man. “You are a wise woman—and one after my own heart. And I might be willing to give it to you, Abby from Boston.”

  “I don’t know about that, Emile from Quebec.”

  “Then how about my hand for now?”

  Oh, hell no! Rafe could practically hear him taking her hand.

  She laughed, but it wasn’t an easy, happy laugh, was it? No. For sure she sounded uncomfortable. He should save her.

  And he was about to do that very thing when the two of them stepped around the corner and caught him. But really, could you actually be caught in your own house?

  “Hello, Rafe,” Abby said. “What are you doing here in the back hall?”

  He leaned on the wall and crossed his arms over this chest. “Just hanging out. You know. Taking a break from the party.” He noted with some satisfaction that they were not holding hands.

  “Taking a break? You haven’t been here long enough to need a break.”

  “You’d be surprised.” He let his eyes drift to the strange goalie and extended his hand. “Rafe Beauford. This is my home.”

  “And a lovely home it is, too.” Much to Rafe’s disdain, Giroux had an acceptable handshake. Maybe he could run him off.

  “I see you’ve met my nanny,” Rafe said.

  Giroux laughed. “You still need a nanny? I would have taken you for older.”

  Abby laughed, too. It wasn’t that damned funny. “I look after Rafe’s twin girls.”

  “Ah!” Giroux said. “Beautiful home. Beautiful employee.” Rafe did not care for the look on his face when he looked at Abby.

  “Abby is not my employee!”

  “No?” Abby frowned that frown he was so familiar with. “What am I then? You hired me. You sign my checks. You pay my insurance.”

  She had him there. Best to change the subject.

  “So what are you two doing in the service hallway?”

  Abby gave him a haughty look. “As it happens, Jackson is going to sing in about in a little while and we want a good spot. We were taking the shortcut out the back to the terrace to keep from having to fight our way through the crowd. Do you have a problem with that?” She wound those pearls through her fingers, and Rafe’s mouth went dry.

  “Oh, no. No. Mi casa, su casa.” That would show them. He could speak a foreign language, too. Sort of.

  “Quoi?” Giroux asked.

  “¿Estás borracho o loco?” Abby asked. Unfortunately, Rafe had not picked up enough Spanish to know what she said. Something about being drunk.

  He watched them walk away.

  What he needed was something between his legs. Couldn’t be a bull and for damned sure couldn’t be Abby.

  Yeah. He had an idea.

  He set out to look for Christian.

  • • •

  “I’m sorry, Rafe.” Christian Hambrick actually looked sorry. She would. She was one of the nicest people Rafe had ever known, and he’d known her for a long time. She was two years his junior, the same age as Beau. Like the Beaufords, she still owned her family plantation house, Firefly Hall, which she had turned into a successful bed and breakfast. “You know I would be glad for you to come over and ride, but Sampson has gotten too old, and Sassy has an abscess on her foot. She ought to be well in a couple of weeks, though.”

  So there went that idea. Was there nothing in the state of Tennessee to distract him?

  “Thanks anyway, Christian.”

  She looked sad. “I don’t remember much about the particulars, but I remember that Beau cried when Miss Amelia sold the horses.”

  Beau hadn’t been the only one. “She did what she had to. We kept them for about a year after the fire, but horses are expensive and time consuming.”

  “Don’t I know it? But, you know what? You ought to buy a horse. Maybe two and a pony for your girls. You always were the one who loved them best.”

  Him and his mother. She had taught them all to ride. At one time Rafe had thought he might like to breed horses, but he hadn’t thought about that in a long time.

  “Oh, I don’t know, Christian. I’m not sure the stable is even in any shape to be used.” Besides, he wouldn’t be here that long.

  “I could keep them until you got that squared away. I have extra stalls and plenty of room.”

  “It’s an idea.” Not one he would act on, but an idea.

  Christian looked over his shoulder and grinned. “Seems like Abby’s got herself a hockey player.”

  “Hasn’t everybody?” He took a drink of his beer. “First Noel. Now Abby. You’d better get moving while there are still some available.”

  Christian laughed, but she looked about as happy as he felt. “I’ll get right on that.”

  “Have you heard from Beau?” Rafe asked her.

  “No.” She looked at the floor.

  “Us either. He must be on some mission saving the world.”

  “That’s the way of it.”

  Before Rafe could reply, Dirk appeared. There was nothing to say anyway.

  “Excuse me.” Christian pulled her phone out of her little, sparkly purse. “I’m getting a call.”

  Dirk met Rafe’s eyes and nodded once. “It’s time.”

  Rafe looked around. Jackson had already sung. “Time for what?”

  “To say goodnight.”

  Had the whole world turned goalie strange? “Okay. Goodnight. Sleep tight.”

  Dirk made an exasperated sound. “Time to go up and say goodnight to the kids, you idiot.”

  “Thanks anyway, Dirk, but no. I’m good. I said goodnight earlier.” Had he? Maybe, maybe not but he’d seen them.

  “Hm.” Dirk nodded and frowned. “Not good enough. Let’s go. Gwen and Abby have already gone up.”

  “Yeah?” Rafe looked around. Had Abby taken the goalie with her? No. There he was, talking to another woman. How dare he cheat on Abby?

  “Come on, Rafe,” Dirk said.

  “Really, no. I’ll just get them stirred up.”

  “Stirred up?” Dirk shook his head. “See, Rafe. Here’s how it’s going to work. You’re going up there and you’re going to tuck those girls in. I know you don’t know what you’re doing here, but it’s time you figured it out.” And he turned and walked toward the staircase like he was sure Rafe would follow him—which Rafe did.

  Chapter Eight

  “Bethany, Hannah,” Abby said to the sitters. “Thanks for getting the kids into their pajamas. You can go across the hall to my room and watch television. We’ll get them down. Just leave the door open and keep a check on them after we go back to the party.”

  Gwen pulled the trundle from under the new day bed. “I can’t believe Lucy got this room done so fast. It’s gorgeous.”

  It was. With its pale green and yellow walls and nursery rhyme toile, it was a dream of a room.

  “Have the girls asked for their mother?” Gwen asked.

  “No. It makes me wonder how much they actually saw her.” Abby straightened the blankets in the cribs.

  “They forget easily at this age. Julie, come here, sweetie. Get under the covers.”

  “The babies aren’t under the covers,” Julie protested.

  “They will be soon,” Gwen said. “You’re the big girl. You need to show them it’s time.”

  Julie reluctantly rose from the rug where she’d been playing with Carter, Phillip, and the twins. Bella knocked over the blocks Phillip and Carter had stacked, and they all laughed like it was Comedy Cen
tral.

  “I think at this age, it’s all about the caregiver,” Gwen said.

  “Sometimes it seems they’re looking for someone,” Abby said. “But they’re more puzzled than sad. And who knows? It could be the grandmother or aunt they’re wondering about. I guess what counts is that they’re happy, but it makes me sad to think if something happened to me, Phillip would just shrug and glom on to whoever wiped his bottom and gave him apple juice.” She stopped and laughed. “Listen to me! I’m a monster—wanting my two-year-old child to mourn me.”

  Abby picked up Bella and put her in her crib. She always went down easier than the other two despite—or maybe because of—her liveliness.

  “If you’re a monster, so am I, but I don’t think we need to worry about that.” Gwen lowered her voice. “How’s Rafe doing?”

  The question of the century. “Sometimes he seems to be making progress.” She could have sworn he turned a corner the day she pointed out Alice’s scar, but then he took two steps back. “Other days—I’m not sure. I know this is new to him, but how can you help but fall in love with them?”

  Even now, Alice was giving Phillip a wide-mouthed, wet kiss. Abby put a pacifier in Bella’s mouth, patted her back twice, and she was gone.

  Gwen retrieved Carter and put him in the trundle bed. “Rafe will come around. He just needs some time. I think it would be easier if the girls didn’t look so much like Camille.” Gwen said this matter-of-factly, as if Abby knew it. “And you know, of course, that Rafe had a very special relationship with his little sister.”

  “No,” Abby said slowly. “If I ever heard that, I forgot.” She knew Rafe’s parents and Camille had died in a fire and that Rafe, Gabe, and Jackson had witnessed the whole thing—but the rest was new information. If it were true, it might explain some things.

  “According to Jackson, Camille could tell Gabe and Rafe apart from a very early age and preferred Rafe to everyone else almost all the time. It was especially hard on him when she died—not that any of them had an easy time of it.”

  “And no one thought to tell me this?”

  Gwen sat down beside Carter and stroked his hair. “I guess we thought you knew. And this has been really fast. Everyone’s been busy, especially you. This is the first real conversation you and I have had since the girls came.”

  It was true. There had been no time to talk to anyone about Rafe’s behavior. “As awful as that must have been for him, in a way, it’s good news. At least it explains why he’s so opposed to bonding with them.”

  “Rafe’s a good man. He’ll come around.”

  “Maybe. If he lives long enough. That’s another thing. He’s a good man with a dangerous job. I don’t understand it—especially now that he has the girls. Why would he risk it?” Like Gregory had risked leaving me pregnant and alone when he went into that cave. “I don’t know how his family stands it.”

  Gwen shrugged. “Much like with Beau, when Dirk was in Special Ops, I didn’t know where he was half the time or if he was alive. You can’t think about it.”

  “But at least Dirk was serving a higher purpose. Rafe does what he does for entertainment, fame, and money.”

  Gwen covered Carter. “Is that what you think? Dirk did what he did for the rush, and so does Rafe. I’m not saying Dirk didn’t care about the higher purpose, but I can assure you Rafe cares nothing about the entertainment and little about the money. As far as the fame—that’s only within a certain circle.”

  “Adrenaline junkies?”

  “Who’s an adrenaline junkie?”

  For the second time in one night, the air was sucked out of the universe. And for the second time, Abby looked up into those eyes.

  “You,” Abby said. She let her gaze shift to Dirk. “Both of you, according to Gwen.”

  “Better than some other kind of junkie,” Rafe said.

  Dirk tossed his head, which could have been confirmation, denial, or an indication that he had no time for such debates. “We’re here to help put the kids to bed.” He gave Rafe a pointed look and crossed the room, sat on the edge of Julie’s bed, and picked up the book Gwen had put there.

  “Is that true?” Abby asked Rafe. “You’re going to help put your children to bed?”

  Rafe looked at Bella asleep in her crib. “Looks like you’ve got this handled so I’ll just—” He took a backwards step.

  The little edge of hope that had surfaced in Abby crashed and was replaced by fresh, angry frustration. Where was that sympathy she’d felt only moments ago? Maybe taking this job had been a bad idea, no matter how much she’d needed it. Who was she to think she could effect a change in a man who only wanted to get himself killed on the back of a bull—or on the horns of a bull, more like. His problems were too big.

  “Hi!” Phillip got to his feet and lunged at Rafe. Abby was getting ready to reach for him when Rafe smiled and squatted down to eye level with Phillip.

  “Hi there, yourself.”

  What? Rafe wouldn’t give his own children the time of day, but was happily engaging Phillip?

  “See Poppy?” Phillip held out his stuffed horse.

  Rafe scratched behind Poppy’s ears. “Hello there, Poppy. You’re a fine-looking horse.” Then he turned to Phillip. “I like to ride horses. Do you ride Poppy?”

  Phillip looked confused for a second, and then he laughed, tucked Poppy between his legs, and awkwardly toddled around.

  “Can you gallop?” Rafe laughed with delight and clapped his hands.

  Phillip screwed up his little face and stopped in front of Rafe. “No. Poppy gets a cookie?”

  Rafe reached into his pocket. “Sure.”

  “No!” Abby stepped forward. “No cookies. I mean it. The cookies stop now.”

  Alice toddled over and pulled on Rafe’s hand. “Cookie, Daddy?”

  And when Rafe turned from Phillip to look at Alice, his easy, happy expression went into lockdown and then broke out in pain.

  And then Abby understood. He was not uncaring and selfish. It was as Gwen said. He was reliving the pain of his little sister’s death. But having good reasons wouldn’t matter in the end to Bella and Alice.

  He pulled at his tie, looked at Abby, and then back at Alice.

  “Cookie?” Alice said and gave him a flirtatious smile.

  He reached for his pocket again.

  “No, Rafe.” Abby circled his wrist with her hand. It felt warm and strong, and she wanted to hold it forever, to take away the pain in him. They stood motionless for a few seconds. Then he pulled his hand, and hers with it, closer to his body until her thumb brushed his stomach. “You cannot continue to use cookies to deal with them.”

  He smiled a smile that didn’t really go with his face. “Candy? I could switch …”

  Abby did not speak, and she did not smile.

  He looked at her hand on his wrist and then into her eyes. “I have to get out of here.”

  “No,” she said. “You have to stay and start being a father. Those girls aren’t going away.”

  And they looked at each other, silent against the background of toddler chatter and Dirk’s voice reading Goodnight Moon.

  “I can’t,” he said.

  “If you can stay on the meanest bull in Texas for eight seconds, you can rock a twenty-two pound girl to sleep.”

  “Rock?” He looked horrified.

  “Bella always goes down immediately, with no fuss—probably because she wears herself out. Alice has to be rocked.” She released his wrist. “Now sit.”

  He looked around. “I’m not sure about this.” But he sat in the chair.

  Abby picked up the child. “Alice, Daddy is going to rock you tonight.” She set Alice in his lap. “I’ll get her pacifier and blanket.”

  For a moment, Abby thought the mission would have to be aborted. Rafe sat stiff as a dead man, and Alice began to struggle to get away.

  Abby put the pacifier in her mouth, and she settled a bit.

  “It might have been handy to have some of
those on the trip from Denton,” he said.

  “No doubt. And no doubt there were some in their things. Now, wrap her in the blanket. Cuddle her. Rafe, you have to rock, not just sit.”

  And to Abby’s surprise, he did as she said. As Dirk and Gwen left their sleeping children and slipped out of the room, Gwen met Abby’s eyes and gave a half nod.

  It was hard to look away from Rafe and Alice, but Abby busied herself getting Phillip settled. Unlike Bella and Alice, he had never had a pacifier, hadn’t sucked his thumb much, either. He smiled before he closed his eyes. Was he smiling at her or some happy thought marching through a half dream? She stroked his hair off his face. He was secure now—health insurance, a beautiful room to live in, and a big boy bed waiting for him.

  That security came with a whole new set of problems. But didn’t every new situation?

  “I think she’s asleep,” Rafe said quietly.

  Abby turned. “Yes, she is.”

  He kept still and looked at Abby expectantly.

  “You can put her in bed,” Abby said.

  “I kind of thought you’d do that. I might wake her when I get up.”

  “You might. Then you’ll just have to get her back to sleep.”

  He grimaced. “I could make you do it. You’re the nanny.”

  “No. You really can’t. I can pick up Phillip, walk out of this room, and leave. Then what are you going to do?”

  “Are you always so disrespectful of the person who signs your check?”

  “You said earlier I wasn’t your employee.”

  “And you said you were. Just taking orders, ma’am.”

  “Then take these, and you’ll know how to do it next time. Get up slowly. Try to keep her still. Bella is a sound sleeper. You could use her for a bowling ball, but Alice wakes easily. Yes. That’s right. Good.” Abby stepped over to Alice’s crib and moved the blanket. “No. Not on her back. On her stomach. That’s right. Roll her over in your arms and ease her down.”

  He stood back and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You’re not done,” Abby said.

  “Not done? She’s sound asleep. What am I supposed to do? Produce the tooth fairy and the sandman? The last I heard, there were no such people—which is good. It gave me the willies as a kid to think strangers were coming in and out of my room without me knowing it.”