by Rita Herron
But what about Rafe?
“MR. MCALLISTER,” Maria said as soon as Rafe walked in the door. “Miss Suzanne called and asked if she had left her necklace here somewhere. Said it was a gold cross.”
Rafe patted his pocket. “I found it. It must have come off in the barn.”
Rafe’s mother eyed him over her crocheting needles. “Do tell.”
Heat climbed Rafe’s neck. “Hazel was in trouble, and Suzanne stayed to see if she delivered all right.”
“Uh-huh.”
Rafe shook his head, knowing it would be damn near impossible to dissuade his mother from thinking like that. Especially when he was beginning to want something more personal with Suzanne himself.
The dream rose to haunt him. Suzanne was standing so close yet he couldn’t touch her, the undertow kept pulling him away. It was a sign. A sign that he couldn’t have her.
No, he’d best not encourage his mother’s fantasies or she’d be reserving the church and knitting baby booties.
“Mr. Wallace called from the bank, too,” Maria said, handing him the message. “Said something about checking the calendar.”
Rafe silently growled—Wallace’s subtle reminder of the time marker on paying off his debt. “Thanks.” He balled the paper in his fist and tossed it in the trash, then strode to his bedroom to take a shower. As much as he hated to, maybe he’d call Landon and drop by for a talk. Maybe there was a way he could salvage his ranch with some kind of trade-off with Landon—anything so he wouldn’t lose the Lazy M. Then he could swing by Suzanne’s and give her the necklace.
SUZANNE ENTERED Mimi’s coffee shop, her nerves on edge. Her father had phoned only minutes earlier saying he needed to talk to her. He’d already had dinner with Rebecca and simply wanted coffee and dessert with her, his tone indicating this was a business meeting, not a family reunion.
After talking with James, she should have expected the call.
She only wished she’d discovered a solution to the mess she’d created with Rafe and James first.
Mimi waved to her from behind the counter, and she waved back. Rebecca and her father strolled in, arm in arm, and Suzanne smiled, grateful the two of them had bridged the gap that had been between them for so long. Rebecca had always been such a shy young woman that Suzanne had felt the need to protect her. But her relationship with her new husband had certainly changed all that.
“Hey, sis.” Rebecca hugged her, her smile radiant.
“Hey, you look great, Bec. Still in matrimonial heaven, huh?”
Rebecca blushed. “Yes. Are you surviving in my old apartment?”
Suzanne nodded. “It’s great. Thanks for letting me stay there.”
“No problem. Any news on the er…situation?”
Laughter teased Rebecca’s eyes. Remembering the way her sister and cousins had jumped to assumptions about Rafe and the hope chest the night they’d eaten dinner, Suzanne gave her a pleading look.
Their father cleared his throat, and Suzanne glanced his way. Perspiration dotted his forehead, and his complexion looked slightly ruddy. “Dad, are you okay?”
He nodded, rubbing wearily at his stomach. “Just tired and full. Rebecca cooked a huge dinner for me.”
“Must have been wonderful.” Suzanne smiled.
Her father nodded again, then gestured toward a table. “I’ll get us some coffee. Why don’t you grab a table?”
“All right. Are you staying, Bec?”
“No. I’m meeting with the committee to discuss the town’s future. Since we’re business owners in the town, Mimi invited everyone over to discuss the situation. Uncle Wiley will be here any minute.”
Oh, no. Suzanne hoped that wouldn’t mean trouble.
She chewed her lip, wondering if she and her father should go elsewhere, but he sat down with a slice of cheesecake and two coffees before she could suggest they relocate. Hopefully, their meeting would be short and sweet and finished before the other one started up.
“All right, Suzanne,” her father said. “Now tell me what’s going on with this McAllister man. James phoned, and he’s worried you’re losing your edge.”
AS SOON AS RAFE NEARED Landon’s place, he spotted Palo Romerez out by the front gate, painting it. He slowed the truck to a stop and rolled down the window. “How’s it going, Romerez?”
His friend ducked his head. “Fine. I’m surprised you’re here.”
“Guess you know Landon and I aren’t the best of friends. I hope he’s treating you right.”
A vein in the man’s forehead throbbed. “I heard a bunch of people were meeting at the Hotspot to talk about the land developer who planned to build that big mall.”
Rafe’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “Tonight?”
“Yeah. About seven o’clock. Think they might be planning some sort of protest.”
Rafe chewed the inside of his cheek. Maybe his chat with Landon could wait. If the residents kept the developer from sinking his claws into their town, then his land wouldn’t be in such demand, and Wallace might cut him some slack on his debts. After all, since the developer wanted Rafe’s property, Landon thought he would benefit from the deal.
Maybe Rafe would also pass word around that he could take on boarders and give riding lessons. He still didn’t understand why no one had responded to his ad.
“Thanks for the tip, buddy. I’ll see you later.”
Romerez shuffled backward, paintbrush in hand, and tipped his hat. Rafe tipped his in return, then pressed the gas and headed toward town.
“I HAVEN’T LOST MY EDGE, Dad,” Suzanne argued. “But I’ve been reevaluating the big picture.”
“The big picture is that the McAllister property is the best land for our needs, the man is in financial trouble and needs to sell and we stand to lose a lot of money if we don’t nail this deal right now.”
Suzanne gripped her coffee cup. “You mean you stand to lose a lot of money.” She might lose her job. Her promotion. Her independence. “Why didn’t you tell me you were the silent partner backing this venture?”
Her father sighed and ran a hand over his beard, his cheeks growing red. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. You know I have a lot of investments.”
“Is your involvement with Horton Developers the reason you’ve encouraged me to be with James? You didn’t suggest he propose to me, did you?”
Agitation lined her father’s features. “Of course not. But you and Horton make a great pair. You’ve repeatedly presented yourselves in business endeavors well, you’re on the same track as far as goals go, and you seem like a suitable match.”
But, Dad, Suzanne wanted to say. I want more.
Suddenly a lightbulb went on in her head. She didn’t want to have a loveless marriage with James. She wanted to feel the kind of passion her sister felt when she looked at Thomas. The kind her cousins had when they talked about their new husbands.
The kind her grandmother had mentioned in her letter.
She had to tell James she couldn’t wear his ring any longer and continue pretending that they were a couple. She would call him tonight when she got home.
A commotion suddenly rang out in the back, and she noticed a throng of townspeople, her cousins and Uncle Wiley included, blustering around, pumping fists and exclaiming.
“Let’s preserve Sugar Hill,” her uncle Wiley roared. “Stop Horton Developers from turning our town into another Atlanta suburb!”
“Yes!” the crowd roared.
Mimi and Hannah and Alison edged closer to their father. Rebecca joined in, with rebellion in her eyes.
Suzanne clutched the table.
Her father thundered up from his seat. “Wait a minute, Wiley, what in the world are you up to?”
“I’m defending the town from rich thieves that want to steal our small-town life and values and bury them under concrete and high-rise buildings and stores.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Suzanne’s father said, his voice ga
ining momentum with his conviction. “That development will boost the economy of this failing little town. It’s a godsend, I tell you.”
“It’s the devil’s work,” her uncle yelled, his arms flapping in his orange polyester jacket. “But why in hell do you care?”
Suzanne’s cousins grabbed her uncle to calm him, while she reached for her father.
But her dad shot up from the table and lurched toward her uncle, fists waving. “Because I own half of Horton Developers. I backed this project, because I wanted to save this little town from going bankrupt.”
“You conceited old fart, we don’t need your kind of saving.”
“Dad,” Suzanne’s cousins said, holding Wiley back.
“You are the conceited one, you old goat,” Suzanne’s father shouted. “You with your wild ads and cheesy car lot, I’m—”
Suzanne’s father never finished his words. His face turned bright crimson as he clutched his chest. Her throat closed in horror as he gasped for air. Then he collapsed on the worn linoleum floor, pale as death and just as still.
Chapter Twelve
“Dad!” Rebecca’s scream mirrored the one frozen in Suzanne’s windpipe.
Suzanne dropped to the floor and began unbuttoning her father’s shirt, the blood roaring in her ears. Her uncle Wiley raced over, Hannah, Mimi and Alison on his coat tails. Hannah checked his pulse, gave Suzanne and Rebecca a grave look, then began CPR. “Call an ambulance,” Hannah said quietly. “And let’s give him some space, folks.”
The crowd backed up in a collective whisper of worry. Wiley grabbed his cell phone and jabbed at the numbers, calling for help, while her cousins tried to console her and Rebecca.
“I’m sure he’s going to make it,” Mimi said gently.
“He’ll be all right, girls, he’s tough,” Alison said.
“Someone has to call Grammy,” Suzanne said in a chocked whisper.
“Dad will,” Mimi said. “And he’ll call Eleanor and tell her to meet us at the hospital.”
“Come on, Dad, breathe,” Rebecca cried. Suzanne enveloped Rebecca in her arms, and they huddled together, shivering, while the group watched, murmuring words of encouragement as if their prayers could bring the man back to life.
Wiley swiped at the tears streaming from his eyes with a plaid handkerchief. “You can’t die on us, you old codger. You’re too tough to do that.”
Suzanne prayed he was right. She heard her father’s wife shriek as Wiley phoned her and relayed the message. Maybe Eleanor really did love her dad and they were going to make it. That is, if he did.
Fear tightened her chest, and she clutched at her sister. She shouldn’t have argued with him.
“Dad has to be all right. We can’t lose him, too,” Rebecca cried.
Seconds later an ambulance rolled in, and two paramedics rushed into the room and took over. Hannah shouted commands and continued CPR while the paramedics slid him onto a stretcher and strapped him down. The family ran after them to the ambulance, she and Rebecca holding each other up.
“Can we go with him?” Suzanne asked as they loaded him into the back of the ambulance.
“We only have room for the doc.”
“I have a pulse!” Hannah shouted.
The crowd cheered, and Suzanne finally released a breath.
“Get in my SUV. I’ll drive,” Wiley said in a shaky voice.
“Come on, Bec, Suzanne.” Mimi ushered them toward Wiley’s vehicle.
The ambulance door slammed shut, and Suzanne clenched Rebecca in a death grip. She noticed her uncle’s ashen face and realized he was blaming himself.
As she did. After all, she had been arguing with her father before he’d spoken to her uncle. She had upset him.
“Suzanne, let’s go.” Alison gently coached her into the back seat where she and Rebecca huddled together.
“I’ll call Brady,” Alison said. “You want me to call Thomas, Bec?”
Rebecca nodded, a sob escaping. Suzanne pulled her into her arms and stroked her hair. “He’s going to make it, Bec. Just keep telling yourself that.”
“I’m calling Seth, too. I’ll tell him to meet us there.” Mimi glanced at Suzanne. “Do you want me to call someone for you?”
Suzanne simply stared at her, as Rafe’s face flashed into her mind.
She had no right to call him. They weren’t a couple. She shook her head, feeling lonelier than she had ever felt in her life.
It wasn’t until she reached the hospital that she realized it had never occurred to her to call James.
RAFE WAS LATE for the town meeting, but he hoped to join the group at the Hotspot. When he arrived, he spotted an ambulance pulling away from the coffee shop, its siren wailing, lights flashing, a trail of cars racing after.
He searched the crowd of spectators on the sidewalk and saw Nellie Jones, one of his mother’s friends, in the thick of things, so he rushed over to her. “What happened?”
She fanned her face with her hand. “Bert Hartwell, Rebecca’s daddy, had a heart attack.”
Oh, God. Suzanne. “Is…he all right?”
“They don’t know,” she screeched. “Dr. Hartwell did CPR, they’re taking him to Sugar Hill General.”
Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Was Suzanne Hartwell with them?”
She nodded, pressing a tissue to her eyes. “She and Rebecca and the other girls rode with Wiley.”
Rafe nodded and jogged back to his truck. To hell with the meeting, he had to make sure Suzanne was all right.
SUZANNE’S HANDS TREMBLED around the tepid cup of coffee. It seemed as if all her cousins’ husbands, along with Rebecca’s, had arrived at the same time. Rebecca sat huddled in Thomas’s arms; Seth stood by holding Maggie Rose while Mimi paced; Jake had cornered Wiley with coffee to calm him; and Eleanor, her father’s new wife hadn’t yet arrived. Hannah had gone into the E.R. with Suzanne’s father.
Instead of calling Grammy, her uncle Wiley had phoned a friend of her grandmother’s to go over and break the news and sit with her. None of them wanted the elderly matriarch of the family to fall ill herself from the shock. The clock hands barely rotated, the seconds ticking by slowly.
The realization that Suzanne had no one but her father sank in deeper with every passing minute. She tossed the coffee into the trash and pressed her fingers to her eyelids to stem the tears, determined not to fall apart. She had always been strong; she always would be. Dropping her head into her hands, she closed her eyes and said a silent prayer.
“Suzanne.”
The thick, masculine voice took her by surprise. Then she glanced up and saw Rafe standing beside her, his eyes dark with concern, his lips pressed into a flat line, his hand outstretched in offering. Suzanne did the one thing she hadn’t done in years. She let him take her in his arms, and she cried.
RAFE HELD SUZANNE in his arms, his heart aching at her tears. He hated to see a woman cry, and he sensed Suzanne didn’t give in to tears easily. She buried her face against his chest, and he stroked her hair, crooning soft words to her as her body trembled. She felt fragile and delicate and he couldn’t stand the thought of not holding her right now.
Memories of standing in this very same room waiting on word about his own father surfaced to haunt him. The chilling smell of the antiseptics, the sound of metal clinking on trays as nurses bustled back and forth with medicine and supplies, the fear of losing a loved one.
He hoped Suzanne’s father made it. His own dad hadn’t been so lucky.
Finally her sobs quieted and she raised her face, her tear-soaked hair plastered against her cheeks. He smiled and brushed the hair back, drying the moisture with the pad of his thumb. “How…how did you know to come?”
“I was on my way to see you when I heard about the meeting at the Hotspot. When I arrived, the ambulance was pulling away.”
She nodded and glanced over his shoulder at the rest of her family who had obviously noticed his arrival, but were discreetly trying to ignore the fact that Suzanne had
vaulted into his arms the second she’d seen him. “You were coming to see me?”
“Yes.” He dug inside his pocket and brought out the cross. “I found this and thought you might want it back.”
Her eyes widened, then fresh tears pooled in her eyes. “Oh, thank you,” she whispered in a hoarse voice. “I’m so glad you found it.” She hugged it to her chest, and he nodded.
“Why don’t we take a little walk? Go get some coffee or a soda.”
“I…I don’t want to leave.”
“The machines are just down the hall. Your sister can get you when the doctor comes out.”
She hesitated, then finally nodded and hurried to tell Rebecca to find her the minute she received word about their father. Rafe followed behind her, well aware the other men in the room were eyeing him with curiosity.
Suzanne slid her hand in his as they walked down the hall. Then she stopped at the coffee machine and turned to him. “Will you fasten the cross around my neck? I thought I’d lost it forever.”
Her voice broke again, and he accepted the gold chain, then slid it around her neck. She lifted her hair from her neck, and he groaned, tempted to kiss her bare neck right there in the hospital. Instead, his fingers brushed her nape as he closed the clasp. “It must be special to you.”
“My mother gave it to me before she died.” She slowly turned around and let her hair fall over her shoulders. “That was my last memory of her.”
His throat felt thick. “I’m sorry. Her death must have been hard.”
“I can’t lose Dad now, too,” Suzanne said in a small voice. “He and Rebecca are all I have left.”
He wanted to tell her that that wasn’t true, that he was there for her, that he always would be. But how could he make that promise when he had so little to offer? Would she even want to hear it?
“Tell me about him,” he said instead, hoping to distract her. He funneled coins into the coffee machine and handed her a cup, then bought another one for himself.
