“I guess I’m not exactly the kind of guy they had in mind for you.”
She shook her head. “It’s not personal. A Gregory clone wouldn’t have made them any happier. I’m supposed to rest in the bosom of the family and worship Gregory’s memory,” she said angrily. “But I’m sorry for the scene.”
Rafe rested his forearms on his knees and leaned forward. “I don’t care about the scene. What concerns me is how mad you are at your husband.”
“You once told me I didn’t have a mother-in-law because that would mean I had a husband—and that I couldn’t have a husband.”
“I was wrong. As long as you’re so mad at him, he exists.”
She looked puzzled. “He’s dead. Of course I’m mad about it.”
Rafe shook his head. “No. You’re not mad that he’s dead. That would be normal. You’re mad at him.” He dropped his eyes, because he didn’t want to see hers when he said what he had to say next in case there was truth there. “And I have to wonder if being with me is tied up in that anger, that you’re trying to pay him back for dying.”
“No.” She vehemently shook head.
When he met her eyes, he saw that she believed that. Whether it was true was a different matter.
“Look, Abby.” Rafe spread his hands. “I’m not trying to discount what you had with Gregory. I don’t expect you not to love him. He was your husband and Phillip’s father. But that kind of bitter anger isn’t good for you—or for us. If you can’t get over it, I don’t know if we can have what I hoped we were headed for.”
“And where is that, Rafe? Where do you hope we’re headed?”
“I don’t have to say it. We’ve both known it almost from the start. But you have to forgive Gregory. I understand he was first. I’ve always known that what you have with me will never be like what you had with him. But I hoped we could have something of our own.”
She closed her eyes, put her palms together, and brought her prayer-like hands to her lips. She was silent for what was probably only seconds, but seemed like hours.
Finally, she opened her eyes and spoke. “What I had with Gregory can’t be like I have with you, because I never loved him like I love you.”
They looked at each other for a long moment. “Not exactly how I expected our first declaration of love to go,” he said.
“I’m sorry. I guess there should have been a bottle of Champagne, candles, and romantic music.”
Rafe smiled. “I don’t know when that would have happened. We’re more about apple juice, a Humpty Dumpty nightlight, and ‘Itsy Bitsy Spider.’”
“I guess we are,” Abby said benignly. Then she looked hollow-eyed and sad. “It doesn’t bother you that I can’t give you a baby? Our baby?”
He shook his head. “Don’t you think we’ve got about all we can handle?”
She nodded. “Still …”
He leaned forward and let himself take her hand. It was cold.
“Listen, Abby. Don’t lament the impossible. But you and me—we’re not impossible. I’ve seen love wrestle men to the ground like a hell-bent cowboy on a mean steer. And he would fight it every bit as hard as that steer. But it wasn’t that way with me. It confused me at first, but I went easy, and I went gladly. And I’m happy to be here.”
“Champagne couldn’t have made that declaration any sweeter.” She looked quietly happy.
“Worse, in fact. I don’t like Champagne. I’m a beer drinker.”
She laughed. “I like that about you.”
This was a special moment, but something was missing. Weren’t embraces, joyful celebration, and whispered promises supposed to come with this?
“I wonder,” Rafe began. He almost didn’t say what was on his mind. It would be so easy to sweep her into his arms and just let things be and hope for the best. But he couldn’t do that, couldn’t risk ignoring what he knew. “I wonder,” he repeated, “if you like that I’m a beer drinker because Gregory wasn’t. And I wonder when your anger with him goes away, if maybe I will have outlasted my usefulness because you won’t feel the need to slap him in the face with someone who is so different from how he was.”
“No!” Her face crumpled, though she didn’t cry. “No, Rafe. I love you for you. Besides, Gregory drank beer.”
“I’m sure he did. Pumpkin, smoky wheat foolishness that comes on a little wooden tray with four other samples of pretentious foolishness. Am I right?”
Her face told the story.
“Look, Abby. I’m not complicated. I don’t much care why you love me as long as you do and you keep loving me.”
“I do. I will.” She said it with such emotion that he believed her.
“But you’ve got to work through this anger, if not for your own sake, for Phillip’s. It seems to me from what you’ve said and what little I’ve heard here and there from people who knew him, that Gregory might have been a little hardheaded and spoiled, but he was a good man. And I don’t doubt that he loved you. I don’t see how anybody could help loving you.”
She nodded. “All that’s true. And I loved him. Really. I did. Although it was a gradual, secure kind of love. But I can’t deny the anger either—maybe because the best thing Gregory and I had was security, and he changed the rules on me. He went from a buttoned-up, predictable investment banker to someone who wanted an adventure. And I admit I was more than onboard for the ride. But I guess I thought it was a lark and we’d go back to what we had known.”
“You could still go back.”
She shook her head. “No. I tried, and it didn’t work for me anymore. You see, I like my life here. I liked it even before you came along and now …” He voiced trained off, a tiny, content smile pulled at her mouth, and her eyes went to dreamy.
Sweet, crashing waves of emotion ripped through him, taking his breath and making him want to crush her to him until their souls melded into one.
But he only nodded, and his words reflected in no way what he was feeling—but they were words that had to be said. “I can’t pretend I know how you can make peace with this. But I know you have to find a way before we can go any further.”
She bit her lip, and her eyes welled. “Are you saying you want me to leave? To go away until I have dealt with this?”
His heart almost broke. “No!” He leaned forward and trailed a finger down her cheek. “Never that. I said I didn’t know how you were going to resolve this. I didn’t say I wouldn’t try to help you.”
He questioned if he should do it, but Rafe rose, took her hands, and pulled her into his arms. Only when she clung to him and rested there like there was no other place that she could take comfort, did he know it was the right to do.
He brushed her temple with his lips. “I know some little girls who want a pony ride. How about it? Want to go down to the stable with me?”
“Yes. I want to go with you.”
Rafe had the feeling that would have been the answer no matter where he’d asked her to go.
Chapter Twenty-Three
It wasn’t even noon yet, and Abby had already taken the world’s longest ride on the Rip Your Heart Out Train.
First there were the parents and her anger at Gregory boiling up and spewing forth like Vesuvius hot on the trail of Pompeii. That should have been a full-time trip on anybody’s itinerary. But no. She’d had a couple more spaces on her passport, begging for a stamp.
So, second, Rafe loved her. That was good. And bad because …
Third, she might not get to keep him, since she didn’t know how to calm the volcano short of tossing in a virgin and hoping for the best.
Joy to the world.
The ride in the golf cart from the house to the stable might have been awkward if Rafe had been a different kind of man. But he’d said his piece, and he was done. Abby admired that about him. He wouldn’t back down, but he wouldn’t pout or belabor the subject, either.
But she also had the distinct impression that he wouldn’t touch her in a significant way unless this was resolved.
“Snow Pony! Snow Pony!” the girls cried in unison as soon as Rafe pulled up to the paddock.
“That’s right!” He jumped out of the golf cart and grabbed a twin under each arm. “But you know what has to happen first. You have to put on your safety vests and helmets, and I have to saddle Snow Pony.” He grinned at Abby. “Unless Mama wants to saddle Snow Pony.”
He was trying to be normal, trying to make this easy for her, but there was no winning. Calling her Mama to the girls cut through her like a razorblade, but to not have done so would have been worse. No winning.
“Don’t think I couldn’t,” she said. “I can do what I have to.” And she hoped that was true.
For the next few minutes, Rafe and Abby put all their energy into distracting the excited girls while they made preparations for their rides.
“Okay.” Rafe picked up Alice. “Bella, you went first last time. It’s Alice’s turn to be first.” He looked toward Abby. “Are you ready?”
That’s when it struck them that they were alone here. There had only been a few riding sessions, but another adult had always been around—Sammy, Dirk, or Gabe. Rafe had always led Snowball while Abby walked alongside and held the child’s leg, leaving the other adult to watch the other children.
“Where is everybody?” Rafe asked.
“There’s a rehearsal dinner tonight, so I guess Sammy’s busy and Dirk has the kids, because Gwen’s cooking. Has Gabe left for a road game?”
“No. They play on Monday night this week at home. I think he said something about meetings and a short practice this morning.”
“What are we going to do?” Abby asked. “We can’t just leave the one who isn’t riding to her own devices. Bella would be in Montana before we turned around.” And they both knew taking Bella into the paddock before it was her turn to ride was out of the question. She wouldn’t understand and containing her would be impossible.
He looked at the girls and in the direction of the house, though it wasn’t in sight.
“Do you want me to take the golf cart and see if I can find someone?” Abby asked.
Rafe hesitated and sighed. “No. Everybody’s busy. Snowball is docile and he knows the route. I can stand to the side and lead and hold at the same time. It’ll be fine.”
And Abby never doubted it. She’d even been pleased that he was beginning to trust himself more and more with his children.
And it was fine for three laps. He hung on to the lead line with one hand and to Alice’s leg with the other, all the while gently reminding her to hold on when she forgot and praising her when she obeyed.
And when they started the fourth lap, nothing changed that Abby could tell—yet it happened. Alice pitched forward, and Rafe reached, but Alice tumbled down and under Snowball’s hooves.
Abby grabbed Bella and began to run. Control the pony, Rafe! she begged silently. Don’t drop the lead line!
But he did.
• • •
On the examination table in the emergency room, Alice screamed and reached for Rafe.
He’d done this to her, and yet she still reached for him.
“Daddy, Daddy,” she wailed. “Take me!”
Take her? Ha! If he got her out of here alive, he’d never touch her again.
“Rafe,” Dr. Ellery said. “Why don’t you step over here and take her on your lap?”
Unthinkable. But Dr. Ellery didn’t seem to be in any mood to take no for an answer. He was the pediatrician to the stars, who Jackson had summoned from Nashville.
When Rafe held his arms out to her, Alice climbed him like a spider on the wall.
“Is she in pain?” Rafe asked.
The doctor shook his head. “More scared than anything else.” He continued to poke and prod at her. “It would help her if you could calm down.”
Calm down. Yeah.
He’d been so stupid, thinking he could handle it—and not just the pony ride. The whole damned thing—the kids, a business with his brothers, Abby …
She stood quietly against the wall ready to do what she could—which was nothing.
“Mrs. Whitman?” the doctor said. “You were there. What happened exactly?” His nonchalant tone didn’t fool Rafe. He’d already been told what happened. The doctor was asking again to determine if Children’s Services ought to be called. And they should. They should come and get these kids before he got them killed, like Camille.
Exactly like Camille. He’d been talking to Alice, and suddenly, she’d laughed and lunged at him because she wanted him to catch her—exactly like Camille. And exactly like Camille, he’d missed.
“Alice fell from the pony,” Abby said. “Rafe was leading at a slow pace and holding on to her, but it happens.”
It happens. That’s for sure. Twice now. But there wouldn’t be a third time; he’d make sure of that.
“Rafe immediately dropped the reins, grabbed Alice, and rolled away from the pony.”
“I shouldn’t have dropped the reins,” Rafe said. “I should have gotten the pony away from her.”
The doctor nodded, it seemed, in a satisfied way. “I don’t know.” He took out his penlight and put a hand on Alice’s head. “I’m going to look in your eyes, sweetheart,” he said to Alice in a gentle voice before shifting back to doctor voice. “I ride. My kids ride. There’s no hard and fast rule about what to do in that situation. Looks like you made the best decision you could. And I saw that she had all the right protective gear.”
Best decision? There had been no decision; he’d just dropped the rope and dived onto the ground. It was a wonder they hadn’t both been kicked in the head.
“Do we need to transport her to Children’s Hospital?” Rafe asked. Beauford General was adequate, but very small.
Dr. Ellery put his penlight away. “I don’t see that. We’re going to get some x-rays and a blood count to make sure there aren’t any fractures or internal injuries, but that’s a precaution. I’d bet the farm that all we’ve got going on here is a little bruising.”
“What about a head injury?” Rafe asked. There was no way he was getting off this easy.
The doctor shook his head. “She was wearing a helmet. She’s alert and coherent. Her pupil response is normal.”
Abby laid a hand on Rafe’s arm. “Oh, Rafe. That’s wonderful.”
Wonderful? On what plane of hell?
“We’re going to get a little blood,” Dr. Ellery said, “and then you’re going to want to go with her to x-ray.” Dr. Ellery was looking at him.
No. He did not want to do that. He never wanted to go anywhere with Alice or Bella again. He wasn’t fit. But he had to make this one last trip. At least there would be medical personnel around to protect her from him.
“We’ve got a waiting room full of people,” Abby said. “I’ll give them the good news.”
Don’t leave her with me! And we don’t have good news yet, Rafe wanted to scream.
But she didn’t hear what he thought.
The doctor offered his hand. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Rafe,” he said. “You did everything right, and kids bounce better than you think they’re going to.”
Not Camille. She hadn’t bounced. And Gabe hadn’t caught her because she’d been trying to get to him. No child could ever be allowed to try to get to him again.
“And get her back on that pony,” the doctor said.
Yeah. Like that was going to happen.
Heather Daniels breezed into the room, wearing scrubs printed with jack-o’-lanterns. Only she probably wasn’t Daniels anymore. He’d gone to high school with her.
“Hello, Rafe,” she said cheerily. “You want to bring this little angel and follow me?” She patted Alice’s cheek. “Did you take a little spill, sweetie?”
Alice laughed and pointed to Heather’s scrubs. “Uncle Jack-o!”
And everyone laughed—everyone except Rafe.
Nothing would ever be funny again.
But if he could just get through this and get
back to Beauford Bend, everything would be fine.
Because he was leaving—this time for good.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Alice fell asleep in her car seat on the way back to Beauford Bend.
“Should we let her sleep?” Rafe asked, panicked.
“Yes, Rafe. The doctor said to carry on as if nothing had happened. They nap at this time every day. In fact, when I called Emory to say we were all clear and on our way home, she said she had just put Bella down.”
He looked at her curiously. “Abby, do you think Emory likes Bella and Alice?”
She was taken aback. “Of course she does. Jackson, Gabe, and Neyland, too. Everyone at Beauford Bend loves the girls.”
He nodded with some satisfaction, but he didn’t say anything else.
It was just as well. They’d said enough today, possibly too much. At least she had.
Rafe carried Alice up the stairs, but instead of taking her into the nursery, he handed her to Abby outside the Dutch door. Odd, but not the oddest thing that had happened today.
Abby settled Alice in her crib and considered calling her mother to warn her this was Phillip’s naptime, but discarded the idea. They’d find out on their own. She’d call to check on Phillip later. Right now she wanted to find Rafe.
It might not be the best time to try to talk to him, but he was hurting, and maybe they could sit quietly together.
But when she entered the bedroom, Rafe was packing.
“What is this?” Abby asked.
Maybe he was packing up to move back down the hall. Considering the alternative, that’s what she hoped. But he was fresh from the shower and dressed in jeans and a hoodie—comfortable travel clothes for a cool, fall night.
“Isn’t it obvious?” He stuffed a toiletry bag into the duffle. “I’m getting the hell out of here while everyone’s still alive.”
“This is about Camille, isn’t it?”
“No, Abby. It’s too late for Camille. This is about me and how I can’t be trusted. And it’s about my girls, your boy, and you.”
“If it’s about us, you won’t go. You just today told me that you love me. And I promise you I’ll work on my anger so we can build a life together with our children.” She still wasn’t sure how, but if she could survive this perfect storm of a day, she could do that.
Redeeming Rafe Page 19
