Rafe's Mate

by Rianne Thaxton

  Dex didn’t look up from where he sat with his head down over his bent knees. So she didn’t say anything directly to him and kept her focus on the horse.

  “Here we are, girl,” she said, bringing Chaparrita further into the stall and tying her reins to a wall-mounted hook. “We had a good ride. Didn’t we?”

  She continued to speak soothing words to the horse as she undid the cinches on one side and then went around her flank, petting over her along the way. She then tied up the loose cinches onto the saddle before dragging it along with the saddle pad off. She grunted and almost lost her balance as it slid into her. “Dex,” she said, as she lugged the saddle over to where it was kept. “Can you bring me a body brush? I think our sweet girl here might enjoy that.”

  She took her time positioning the saddle while listening to the slight rustling sounded behind her. Within a moment the brush appeared in front of her.

  “Thank you.” She took the brush back to a patiently waiting Chaparrita and stroked it over the mare’s coat several times while Dex's tense figure remained just within her peripheral vision. “Can you do this for me while I get a grooming towel and then maybe take a little break?” she asked, holding the brush out to him.

  At that moment, Dex’s wide, frightened eyes lifted and met hers. While it broke her heart, she didn’t react, only saying, “I think she would like you taking care of her better anyhow.” She went to the other side of the stall and sat on a bale of hay as Dex brushed over the areas of the horse he could reach.

  It wasn’t long before he stopped and reached his arms up toward the horse's neck. Unbelievably, Chaparrita lowered her head closer to his and rubbed her cheek over Dex’s head as the little boy whispered.

  Aubrey did her best to make out what he was saying, but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t hear the secrets the little boy shared. All she caught was a stuttering breath here and there that told her he was probably crying.

  This was obviously what he had needed, as the longer he talked, the more then tension in his shoulders gradually eased. Then, when it seemed he had said whatever he had needed to, he went to back to brushing her. Aubrey brought a towel over and rubbed the horse down on the areas already brushed. She followed Dex’s progress around the horse—both of them working in a mutual silence only broken by the horses in the stalls around them and the occasional huffing of Chaparrita.

  “Are you almost done?” Aubrey was determined Dex wouldn’t feel she was rushing him.

  He didn’t respond but went over Chaparrita’s coat a few more times before putting the brush down. Then he gave the horse a hug and left the stall.

  Aubrey followed after him at a short distance as they went through the barn and then out into the early evening sunlight. She glanced ahead to Rafe leaning against the porch railing with a sorrow-faced Max beside him as they crossed over to the house. Rafe didn’t look directly at her, no matter how hard she willed it with her own eyes, but kept his gaze on Dex as the little boy climbed the stairs and went into the house.

  As soon as the door shut behind Dex, Rafe turned on his heel and walked away from her, finally going down a set of side steps and disappearing.

  She met Max’s gaze, who shook his head and then he too, went inside the house, leaving her alone on the porch. She sat in one of the rockers and stared out toward the barn, refusing to worry about why Rafe hadn’t at least spoken to her before he’d walked off.

  Instead, she focused on Dex. Whatever had happened while they were gone, he was a different little boy than the one they’d left. So, tomorrow they would start the process again of working toward breaking through the wall he had once more built around himself.

  Later that evening a rapid knock sounded on Aubrey’s front door. She’d expected him sooner and smiled as she got up to answer it, but her smile faltered when she found a frowning Rafe filling her doorway.

  “How’s he doing?” she asked with some hesitation.

  “Better. I think.” He didn’t meet her eyes but looked past her. “Can I come in?”

  “Well, it technically is your house. So…” She stepped aside and refused to sigh at the slight brush of his arm against her.

  “This place is yours,” he said, turning around, “as long as you need it.” He gave her a small grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “So, technically I look at this place as your home.”

  And why him telling her this was her home had her heart racing she had no idea. It wasn’t even the main house. But still, the feeling there was more to it stayed in the back of her mind.

  “Care for something to drink? I’ve got some sweet tea, soda, beer.”

  “No. Nothing. Thanks.”

  She didn’t like the look on his face. A face that serious was never a good thing, and it usually meant she wasn’t going to hear what was coming next.

  “Can we talk?”

  “Oh.” Nope, she wasn’t going to like what was coming. Because the can we talk talk, nine times out of ten, led to someone saying something was a mistake. And right now nothing about what had gone on between her and Rafe that afternoon had been a mistake—at least not in her mind. She had hoped it would have been the start of something more. But now?

  “About today, it—”

  “It was a mistake.” There she’d said it first.

  His head snapped up at that as his eyes narrowed on her. “You think what we did was a mistake?”

  “Definitely,” she said, turning her back to him, and then she made her way into the kitchen. She needed a drink, preferably a large glass of wine. “Don’t you?”

  Where’s the damn corkscrew?

  She pulled open several drawers, and then jumped when Rafe came up behind her and held a wine opener over her shoulder.

  “It was in with the wine glasses.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Why do you think it was a mistake?”

  For goodness' sakes, she’d given the man an out and now he was pushing. Why? She turned toward him and leaned against the counter. He was much closer than she’d realized, with a clean scent coming off him she needed rubbing against her. From his wet hair, he must have just showered.

  “Weren’t you going to say the same thing?” She couldn’t continue to look at him. It wouldn’t do for him to see how much she wanted him or how much having this particular conversation was tearing her apart. “I just made it easier for you.”

  “Believe me,” he muttered. “Nothing about you or anything else is easy right now.”

  “Okay. Let me make it even easier then.” She opened the wine refrigerator and pulled out one of the reds. “We should never have crossed that line today. And if it weren’t for the fact I think Dex truly needs me right now, I’d leave.” He frowned at her words as she worked the corkscrew into the cork, but he didn’t interrupt. “So, starting tomorrow, everything goes back to the way it was.” She worked the cork back and forth and then popped it out. “You do your thing while I work with Dex. And when you’re done in your office, I’ll take that time to come in and do my duties you’re paying me extra for.” She went to the cabinet and grabbed a wine glass, pouring more than generous amount before facing him. “Agreed?”

  She eyed Rafe’s hard expression as she tipped the glass up to her mouth and took a long drink of the bitter liquid. It was always that way with the first taste but then got sweeter with every subsequent sip.

  She huffed a laugh into the glass as she took another drink. Sort of the opposite of her love life at the moment—the bitter coming after the sweet.

  When will I ever learn?

  Rafe had remained silent a lot longer than she’d anticipated until he finally said on a harsh note, “Agreed.”

  “Good.” Oh, God, it so wasn’t good. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Maybe,” he said as he stalked out of her kitchen. She didn’t follow after him but waited until she heard the front door open and close before letting her emotions out.

  She swiped at the tears gathering on her lashes and ga
ve herself a full body shake before gulping down the rest of the wine and pouring another glass.

  “I’m not crying over you, Rafe Navarro.” She ignored the few tears tracing down her cheeks. “I’m not.”

  The last four days had found Aubrey disheartened on several fronts. Dex had slid backward in his progress and was now barely speaking again. It was made worse since Max was scheduled to leave the next morning, which she could see Dex wasn’t taking well at all, even though he wouldn’t talk about it.

  And then there was Rafe. The man was all but ignoring her, with his only true communication being the few notes he left on his desk for her—all written in a terse, heavy print that she was sure reflected his mood. He had reluctantly introduced her to two of his friends when she’d accidentally run into the three of them entering the house the morning after he had visited her at the guest house.

  Slater and Bash had been at the ranch a few times since and seemed nice, always friendly and chatting with her—especially Bash who had flirted with her a little until Rafe had all but commanded him to stop. Anyhow, since then she hadn’t spoken with them, with only an occasional wave as they came and went since they spent their time in house behind closed doors with Rafe in his office.

  So, all in all, she felt like a bit of a failure.

  She let her gaze fall on the little boy who she had come to love in such a short time and then let it drop to what he was working on. Her eyes widened as she craned and turned her neck to get a better look. This was something she’d never seen from him before. And it was much darker than anything else he’d ever drawn.

  And if she wasn’t mistaken…

  Aubrey’s heart raced at the scene Dex continued to add details to. Amid the darkness lay the stark figure of a woman in a white dress or gown lying on a floor next to a panther, and in the background sat a ball he had scribbled out. But on closer look, beneath the scribbles had been the image of a small person with dark hair curled up with their face hidden in their knees. She let out a slow breath.

  This has to be the night of his parents’ murder, and the scribbled out ball…

  She lifted her gaze to his bent head.

  It’s Dex.

  And while she didn’t understand the significance of the panther, she was certain the woman in white was Dex’s mother. She watched while he filled in a few more details before picking up a dark red chalk. He held it tightly in his fingers before setting the end of it on the paper over his mother. Then he violently scribbled over everything while tears streamed down his face and quiet sobs racked his small body. She didn’t interfere as his breathing came in sharp pants. When he finally finished, nothing remained visible under the red covering everything except the scribbled-out ball that represented him.

  “I didn’t do anything,” Dex said, as he laid down the chalk, his words so low so she almost couldn’t hear him.

  “Of course you didn’t, sweetie. You did nothing wrong.”

  “No,” he said on a sob as he looked up at her with tortured eyes. “Momma made me hide in the…” He hiccupped around another sob. “The closet and told me not to make a sound when the bad men came.”

  Aubrey stood up, came around to his side, and crouched as she put an arm around him. “She wanted to protect you. And she did.”

  Dex nodded, and then before she knew it, he was out of his chair and in her arms with his head buried in her neck crying. His words were broken between each shuddering breath. “I hid…I…did what she…what she wanted… I didn’t…help her… She…she…needed me.” Great anguished weeping shook him as she held him close and rocked his trembling, small body back and forth while tears streamed down her own face. “I didn’t do anything.” She closed her eyes as the rest of what he said was lost in his tears as he clung to her with his arms wrapped tight around her neck.

  “He hates me.”

  “No one hates you,” she said, wrapping him up tightly.

  “Uncle Rafe…does. He was mad. I… I… I have to be a good boy so—”

  A hard body crashed into her back before strong arms enveloped both her and Dex. Rafe’s scent surrounded her as he hugged both of them closely.

  “I could never hate you,” Rafe said from behind her, his normally strong voice full of pain. “I couldn’t love you more if you were my own child.” And then he did the one thing that tore Aubrey’s heart in two. It wasn’t huge, but a sob caught in his throat as he said, “But I do need you to forgive me. If I had…” His great breath pushed against her back. “If I had come when your mom called, I might have stopped what happened.” His hot breath blew against her neck as he buried his face in her hair. “I live with that guilt every day,” he whispered in her ear. “Every. Single. Damn. Day.”

  “It’s not your fault either, Rafe,” she told him, turning her head to rub her cheek over his. “The only people at fault are the men who did it. No one else.”

  “Damn horse hair!”

  As one, the three of them, still huddled together, turned toward the opening of the sunroom to find Max standing there with his head raised to the ceiling and scrubbing both hands over his face.

  “I got some of it in my eyes.”

  Aubrey let out a watery chuckle. “Max, we have got to work on your timing.”

  7

  “Can you tell me what about the man upset you?”

  Rafe sat next to Max on one of the couches in the sunroom while Dex and Aubrey remained at their worktable. Dex hadn’t shown any more signs of distress, but he watched closely for it anyhow at Aubrey’s quietly spoken question. Of all the things he had expected to happen that day, the revelations of the last thirty minutes hadn’t made the list. And while Rafe was all for finding out as much as they could—as quickly as they could—he’d been unsure about pushing Dex for more after his outpouring of emotion.

  But obviously Aubrey didn’t have the same concern. And since she was the expert, he’d deferred what came next to her.

  “Had you seen him before?”

  Dex shook his head as he picked up one of his chalks and doodled on the paper in front of him. “I didn’t see him.”

  “Before today?” Aubrey asked conversationally, as she too took up one of the chalks and drew on the art pad in front of her, almost as if the child’s answer didn’t hold that much interest to her.

  “No.” Dex shook his head and switched to another color of chalk. “I never saw him.” His hand paused in his drawing and then started again. “I heard him.”

  Rafe sat forward as Max tensed next to him.

  “When he was here at the ranch?” She still didn’t look at Dex as she continued drawing.

  “Mmmhmm.” Dex gripped his chalk tightly and turned his solemn gaze on Rafe. “And when the bad men came.”

  Rafe locked his gaze on Dex’s, wincing when his chalk snapping in two sounded in the tension-filled room and nearly broke the dam holding his panther and alpha at bay. Only Max’s crushing grip on Rafe’s shoulders kept him in control.

  He should have been stronger than this. He was an alpha and a leader of his people. But in that moment, he was more. He was an uncle, a brother-in-law—a brother. And the only thing he could think of was making someone pay.

  Rafe didn’t trust himself to speak. His shift was that close. Besides, it would have come out as a more of a growl than actual words. But, again, Aubrey took the lead and leaned over the table to touch Dex’s shoulder, snagging his attention.

  “You’re sure?”

  Dex nodded and relaxed. His features became less taut and the tension he’d held in his little body visibly melted away. Seeing the difference in his nephew’s demeanor, Rafe realized he hadn’t recognized before how stiff his nephew had been holding himself.

  “I heard him yelling at my dad,” he said and then let out a deep breath, his expression confused. He took another, and then another as he rubbed over his chest, a look of wonder filling his expression as he looked first at Aubrey, and then Max, and then finally Rafe.

  “It wa
s him, Uncle Rafe.” Strength and conviction filled his voice. “He’s the man that killed my daddy.”

  “Rafe, you can’t go off half-cocked and kill a bunch of humans.”

  Rafe understood Max’s concern as the Beta Prime followed him through the house after he’d left the sunroom, but this was something he had to do. He wouldn’t need much. He grabbed his keys and checked he had his phone in his pocket. He’d worry about the body bags later. “I have to do this.”

  “I understand. But first, let’s do some reconnaissance. See who and what we’re up against.” Max made sense, but it didn’t matter. “We don’t even know who was involved.”

  “We know who one of them is.” Rafe had sensed something was up with Flagg, but he’d ignored it as being unimportant. That had been a mistake. “And I’ll know at least one of the others when I scent him.”

  “I get where you’re coming from,” Max said as he headed Rafe off at the front door and faced him, his expression grim. Smart bear that he was, he didn’t meet his eyes, which was a good thing with the hair trigger Rafe was on. And, of course Max understood. He had read the official report on the event and had discussed it with Rafe a few days before when they’d gone over some plans Max had with regards to Javier’s personal records. So, he knew exactly why Rafe would easily be able to pick out one of the men. “And I would be more than happy to go with you right now and rip their heads off, and be glad to have done with it.” Max finally lifted his gaze to Rafe’s. “And I probably shouldn’t tell you this right now, but Law will back you with anything that happens.”

  “Then let’s go,” Rafe said, reaching past Max to the doorknob.

  “Not so fast.”

  Rafe growled and Max once more lowered his eyes to Rafe’s mouth, although his voice didn’t lose any of its intensity. “Law wants to know why these men chose your brother. How they knew what Javier was and if they have a greater agenda.” Rafe didn’t want logic. He wanted vengeance. So, damn Law for his logic, and damn Max for doing his job by passing it on. “We need them alive—for now—to find these things out.” Deep down he knew Max was right and Law would need to have all the intelligence they could gather. “And they’ll be there tomorrow,” Max continued. “And the day after that, and the one after that. We have time.”