Rafe

by Kathy Ivan

  “My old man finally passed out in front of the TV, but not before polishing off half a case of beer. Mom…bled from her nose and mouth, where he’d punched her in the face. Only this time, I could tell she’d had enough. Don’t know if it was because he’d hit me, or if she’d simply reached the end of her rope, but she was done. Done with all of it. Him. The crappy motel rooms and broken down, rusted out cars, the never enough money for food, but whatever the cause, it was the last straw. Anyway, terrified she’d wake him if we went out the front door, we snuck out.” He didn’t tell her how he’d kicked out the cardboard-covered bedroom window, and made his mom go first, just in case. Tessa didn’t need to hear all the gory details, the ones that haunted him still in his nightmares when he let his guard down. “We made it to the end of the drive before he stumbled out of the house, carrying a baseball bat.”

  “Oh, my—”

  He continued as if she hadn’t spoken, because he needed to get through this. “Mom drove like a bat out of hell. I kept watch out the back window, scared he’d catch up.” Scared? More like terrified I’d crap my pants if the monster caught up, because this time I knew he’d kill us both. “We didn’t live in Shiloh Springs. We’d been staying one town over. I think my mom headed this way deliberately, knowing he wouldn’t dare step foot in this town. He’d had one too many run-ins with the county sheriff and outstayed his welcome. I always guessed that’s why she headed in this direction.” His laugh sounded brittle and ugly, reflective of the emotions roiling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t often he voluntarily relived that night, but if he meant to have any chance of starting something between him and Tessa, she needed to know the truth—the good, the bad, and the ugly.

  “He drove this piece of sh—junk truck. I’m not sure how he kept it running, because it had to be held together with rubber-bands and duct tape. Not that Mom’s car was much better. Between the bad starter and bald tires, there’s no way it would have passed state inspection.” He shook his head, trying to dislodge the memory of what happened next, not wanting the picture too fresh in his mind. Though it had happened two decades ago, the memory remained sharp and crisp. The sound of metal-on-metal when his dad’s truck slammed into the rear passenger side of the car. The screech of tires, struggling to grip the asphalt with their threadbare treads. The acrid stench of smoke and gasoline when the front end plowed into the live oak tree on the side of the road. The jolt of impact. Seeing the crumpling of the front end of the car where it collided with the tree, the shattered windshield crisscrossed with spiderweb cracks.

  “I was sitting in the back seat when he hit us.” Her sharp gasp made him pause, and squeeze her hand tight. “The car went engine first into a tree. I got thrown onto the floorboards, and hit my head against the seat. The airbags worked, because I remember powder floating all around me. My father broke the driver’s window when he couldn’t get the door open, and pulled my mom out of the car. Stupid me—I thought he meant to help her.”

  “Did he come back for you?”

  Rafe shook his head. “I don’t think he even remembered I was there. He tossed my mom to the ground like she was nothing. A pile of trash. Baby, the rage on his face—”

  “I get the picture. He didn’t deserve you, either of you.”

  “He hit her. Punched her in the face repeatedly. When she tried to crawl away, he kicked her over and over. I remember screaming at the top of my lungs, but nothing came out. Wrenching at the door, but it wouldn’t budge. The car hit the tree with such force, the frame bent. I threw myself against the door, pounded on it, but it didn’t move, wouldn’t open. It never occurred to me to climb out the window he’d busted to pull her out on the driver’s side. To him, I wasn’t even there. Every ounce of his attention seemed focused on my mother. I heard sirens, saw the flashing lights, but my brain couldn’t comprehend help was on the way.”

  “Douglas?”

  Brushing his thumb gently across her cheek, he smiled. “Yeah. The sheriff’s car pulled up along with the fire department rescue squad. They physically restrained my father, had to pull him off because he wouldn’t stop beating my mom.” He took a deep breath. “I knew before they said anything they were too late. She was gone.”

  “I’m so sorry, Rafe.”

  “It didn’t seem real, you know? I could see everything. Hear people talking, moving around, but it didn’t sink in. Nothing did. I know they used the Jaws of Life to get me out, because they couldn’t budge the door, either. But the only thing I could see was this giant of a man, standing by the car, working with the rest of them to free me. Why him and not one of the other men working frantically, I don’t know, yet I knew I could trust him to keep me safe.”

  Though they sat in the midst of his mother’s special garden, the gazebo and wishing well disappeared. The sounds of kids playing faded away under a barrage of memories from the night everything changed. He’d lost a part of himself, watching the monster who’d spawned him murder his mother. Felt a yawning blackness threatening to engulf his very soul. Until he met the kind gaze of a stranger. One he’d instinctively knew held his future, his salvation, within his hands.

  “They got me out, put me on a gurney, and I reached out to the man standing there. I didn’t know him. Had no clue who this man was, other than he was my lifeline. I think I begged him to stay with me, though I don’t remember. The way Ms. Patti tells it, I grabbed his hand and wouldn’t let go.” He chuckled. “Anyway, he rode with me to the hospital. Waited in the emergency room, and talked with the doctors. A time or two he ordered people around, making sure I got taken care of. A whole lot of that night is kinda sketchy. I was pretty much out of it. When I woke the next morning, he was still there. Sitting beside my bed. He told me I was coming home with him.” He had to stop, the words catching in his throat.

  “I think I’m a little in love with Douglas now. I’m sorry about your mom.”

  Pulling her closer against his side, he nuzzled his chin against the top of her head. “Thank you. She did the best she could, and I will always love her for it.”

  “Can I ask…what happened to your father?”

  He paused a moment before answering. “He’s in Huntsville for second-degree murder. Serving a life sentence without the possibility of parole.”

  “Not to sound bloodthirsty, but good.”

  His body shook with suppressed laughter. “You sound like Ms. Patti. If she’d had her way, he’d be buried under the jail.”

  “In case you haven’t learned this, Sheriff, women can be a bit vengeful. Especially if somebody goes after a person we…care about.”

  He drew in a deep breath, feeling an enormous weight lift from his shoulders. While he’d left out a lot of the gory details, Tessa now knew his history, and she didn’t seem repulsed his biological kin was rotting in a Texas prison for murder. Though it didn’t happen often, a few smallminded folks tarred him with the same brush as his father, simply because of the blood coursing through his veins. Nature versus nurture didn’t mean a whole lot to some people.

  “Now you know how I came to be a Boudreau. All of us have our own story. Douglas and Ms. Patti opened their home, and their hearts, to a whole bunch of misfits and troublemakers nobody else wanted, and molded us into a family.”

  “They are very lucky to have you too.”

  He brushed a light kiss across her forehead before standing. “I’m the lucky one, babe. I’m blessed with a home and a family who, while they might not be blood, are more because we chose to become one. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for every single one of my brothers and sister, and I know they feel the same.”

  “I like that—blessed.”

  He picked up their empty plates and soda cans. “We should probably get back to the party before somebody comes looking for us.”

  He stopped when he felt her hand lightly touch his forearm. “Thank you for sharing today with me, Rafe.”

  “My pleasure, sweetheart.”

  As they headed back to joi
n his family, he couldn’t help feeling today marked a turning point in his relationship with Tessa. He really cared for her, more than he had for anybody in a long time, and couldn’t help wondering what the future held, and honestly, he couldn’t wait to find out.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Rafe pulled up in the driveway of her house, and left the engine running. Climbing out, he opened her door and walked her to the front porch. Her mind still reeled from everything he’d told her at the barbecue. About his childhood. Life with the Boudreaus. The next time she saw Douglas Boudreau, she planned on giving him a gigantic hug.

  She started to ask if he wanted to come in for coffee, but he pressed a finger against her lips, before leaning forward and kissing her cheek.

  “I can’t stay. I’m on duty in a few hours, and need to get some sleep before I head in.” He gave a roguish grin before adding, “Besides, if I come inside, I’m not sure I’d be strong enough to leave again, and it’s too soon. I don’t want to make a mistake or spoil things before they’ve even started.”

  A tiny bit of her felt disappointed, even if he was right. “Thanks for inviting me to your family’s cookout, Rafe. I had a lovely time. And you’re right, it’s too soon.” She didn’t mention the things they’d discussed, the feelings too new and raw. Though she knew she’d think about them, a lot.

  “Dinner? Tomorrow night?”

  She studied his face intently before nodding. “I’d like that.”

  “I’ll call you in the morning, and we’ll set something up.” He reached for her hand, and brushed a soft kiss against her knuckles. “Goodnight, Red.”

  “’Night, Sheriff.”

  Climbing the front steps, she unlocked the door and waved, watching as he pulled out and drove toward his house. Turning to go inside, she spotted four boxes stacked neatly by the porch swing. Darn it, she’d forgotten the courier had been scheduled to drop them off today. They must have delivered them while she’d been at the Boudreau house. Tossing her purse onto the hall table, she toted each box inside, setting them down in the living room.

  Carefully labeled in her sister’s precise handwriting, she ran her hand along the label, tracing the name of her old home town. An ache in the center of her chest squeezed tighter as she realized the things contained within these boxes held her last physical ties to North Carolina, other than Beth and Jamie. Specifically, they were things belonging to her parents, items too personal or sentimental to get rid of or donate. She’d gone back to her parents’ home with Beth, shortly after they’d passed, and cleared out the house, each keeping the things holding value to them, and the rest sold or donated to charitable causes.

  She remembered the ache of loneliness deep inside at the realization their house would no longer be her home. The place where she’d spent endless hours playing or listening to music. Remembered the back bedroom, with its pretty floral bedspread—the one she’d picked out herself when she’d turned thirteen—thinking how grown up and mature she’d felt, decorating her room. Beth and Evan had their own home, one they’d bought right after they married, much bigger and grander than the small home her parents owned. Yet, Tessa knew she wouldn’t be able to live in that house alone. Not with all the memories of her parents, and knowing they’d taken their last breaths there.

  The decision to sell had been mutual, but hadn’t made it any easier. So, she’d kept the things which meant something, and now all that remained of her life in North Carolina sat contained in these four cardboard boxes. It seemed so insignificant, and couldn’t compare to the scope of wonderful memories she’d shared with her family. Her fingers itched to pick up the phone and call Beth.

  Nostalgia swept through her, and before she gave in to the urge to wallow in melancholy, she picked up the scissors, cutting through the packing tape on the first box. Before she’d left, driving straight through to Shiloh Springs, she’d carefully wrapped each cherished item. Placed them into the boxes herself, making sure there was more than enough bubble wrap and newspaper to protect the contents.

  She gasped when she peeled back the flaps of the box, looking at the chaos inside. Something was wrong. The bubble wrap was shoved aside, wadded up in clumps, and half the items lay unprotected. Could this have happened in transit? Sometimes courier services weren’t exactly gentle, even when the package stated fragile in big, bold letters.

  Digging inside, she found a ceramic bowl on top which previously had been on the bottom. She remembered, because she’d been extremely careful, wrapping it with extra wrap, because her mother loved it so. Holding it to her chest, she looked deeper in the box. Nothing looked the way it had when she’d taped it shut a few weeks ago. What in the world happened?

  Setting the blue and white bowl on the coffee table, she went to work on the tape of the second box. Maybe it was only the one box. Except the contents of this one looked the same as the first—nothing like the way she’d packed them. Attacking the third box, she found the same thing. And the fourth—everything inside was topsy-turvy.

  Frantic now, she dug through each item, desperate to see if anything was missing or damaged. After lifting free the wooden box that had belonged to her father, she stood back and stared. Nothing appeared missing. Could she be wrong? In her rush to get everything packaged and ready to send to Texas, had she been mistaken?

  Nope, she remembered how she’d packed. Beth even teased her about being a little OCD with the overwrapping. Picking up her phone, she dialed her sister’s number. Beth would know what happened. The phone rang and rang, before finally a male voice answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Evan, it’s Tessa.”

  “Tessa! How’s everything in the Lone Star State? Are you getting settled in?”

  “Things are great. I love it here. Can I talk to Beth?”

  “She’s in bed. Jamie’s got a bit of a cold, and hasn’t been sleeping well, so Beth was up with her most of last night. They went to bed early.”

  Tessa looked at the time on her phone and winced. She’d forgotten about the hour time difference between them. “Sorry, I didn’t realize…could you have her give me a call in the morning?”

  There was a slight pause, before Evan asked, “Is something wrong? You sound a little, I don’t know, agitated.”

  Tessa blew out a long breath. “I got the boxes she shipped. Something’s wrong with them. Everything is messed up, and—”

  “That’s my fault,” he interrupted, leaving Tessa dumbfounded. “Beth went to her yoga class, and I was supposed to watch Jamie. I took a call from the office, and by the time I came back in the room, she’d pulled all the packing tape off the boxes, and had half the contents spread across the floor. I rewrapped everything the best I could, but I guess I didn’t do a very good job. Is anything broken? I’ll pay to get it fixed.”

  “Everything’s fine. Nothing’s missing or broken. Things were just…not the way I’d packed them. But I can’t blame Jamie for being curious. She’s at that age. Thanks for repacking my stuff.”

  “No problem.” There was another pause, before Evan whispered, “Could you maybe not tell Beth? I don’t want her to find out I let Jamie out of my sight for more than a second when she wasn’t here.”

  “My lips are sealed. Tell Beth I’ll give her a call in a couple of days. Good night, Evan.”

  “Goodbye, Tessa.”

  Hanging up, she began gathering all the packaging scattered around the living room and tossed it all into one box, deciding everything could wait for tomorrow. The Boudreaus invited her to attend church with them in the morning, and she wanted to get a good night’s sleep.

  Tomorrow she’d add her parents’ things to the house, find the perfect place for each one. Maybe putting her family’s cherished belongings around the cottage would make it feel more like home, because she really liked Shiloh Springs, and could see making the town her home for longer than the year she’d initially planned. She wouldn’t mind making this change permanent.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

>   Tessa stared at the ringing phone, the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach growing stronger. She didn’t get a lot of calls. But for the last three days, whenever she’d answered, there hadn’t been anybody on the other end.

  Her hand shook when she swiped to connect and put the phone to her ear.

  “Hello?”

  Dead air. Yet she knew somebody waited on the other end, because she could hear them breathing. Not the creepy, obscene, trying-to-freak-you-out-type, but as if somebody simply listened, without saying a word.

  “Look, I don’t know who this is, but if you don’t stop calling, I’m going to report you to the phone company and the sheriff’s department. Stop harassing me!”

  Hitting the end call button made her feel better, at least for a few seconds. Until it rang again. The incessant jangle of the bell pealed through the house’s empty silence. Looking at the caller ID, it showed caller unknown. With a few simple keystrokes, she’d blocked the number.

  “Nope, not falling for it again. Go bug somebody else.”

  Great, now they’ve got me talking to myself.

  She balled her hands into fists to keep from reaching for the cell phone. A ringing phone always made her want to immediately pick it up, and she bit back the urge to respond. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the ringing stopped, and she exhaled a long breath.

  Seconds later, it rang again, and she nearly jumped out of her skin, chiding herself for being skittish. She glared at the phone, lying on the coffee table. Steeling herself, she lifted it and looked at the caller ID. Rafe’s name and number displayed, and she collapsed against the sofa cushions, relief coursing through her.

  “Hi.”

  “Tessa?” After a slight pause, barely longer than a heartbeat, “What’s wrong?”