by Ruff, K. S.
Charlie rose from his desk. His silver hair glowed under the harsh office lights, lending him a somewhat angelic look. “This must be Rafael,” he said with a warm smile.
Rafael shook his hand. “Yes, sir. It’s nice to finally meet you, Charlie. Kri’s been sharing your inspirational messages, prayers, and scripture readings with me. They’ve helped a lot over the past few weeks.”
Charlie encouraged us to sit before returning to his seat. “I’m happy to hear that. I’ve been praying for you. Kimme told me what happened in Ukraine. How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine,” Rafael replied gingerly.
Charlie smiled, but he didn’t say anything. He was waiting for Rafael to elaborate.
Rafael glanced at me uncertainly.
I squeezed his hand encouragingly. “Talking to Charlie’s a bit like going to confession. You’ll feel better if you just lay everything out there.”
Rafael studied the portrait of Jesus while weighing his response. Finally, he took a deep breath and released it. His eyes met Charlie’s when he did. “I’m not fine. I miss my brother. I regret the way things ended between us. I’m angry I couldn’t save him… that I even allowed him to come to Ukraine in the first place.”
Charlie leaned back in his chair. “Michael doesn’t strike me as the sort of man who’d give you any say in the matter. Did you ask him to go to Ukraine?”
Rafael shook his head. “No. I told Michael to stay in Paris, but he refused to listen to me. He insisted on coming.”
Charlie nodded. “That was his decision to make, not yours. How do you think he would have handled it if he hadn’t gone and Kri had been killed instead?”
“Not well,” Rafael confessed.
Charlie’s gaze was both scrutinizing and kind. “And if you had been forced to stay behind and hadn’t been allowed to help… how would you have fared?”
“Not well,” Rafael admitted a bit more grudgingly this time.
“Did any good come of it?” Charlie asked.
Rafael looked at me. “Kristine was released.”
“Do you think your brother regrets his decision?” Charlie inquired softly.
Rafael shook his head. “No.”
Charlie looked thoughtful. “Why do you regret the way things ended between the two of you?”
Rafael glanced at me again. His voice cracked when he spoke. “Because I was dating the woman he loved, knowing full well he still loved her.”
“If I recall correctly, he’s the one who ended that relationship. Do you think he would have eventually worked things out with Kri?” Charlie asked.
Rafael shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Charlie leaned forward and folded his arms against the desk. “I understand why you miss your brother, but you were in no way responsible for his death. As far as your regrets, we all have regrets. The only advice I could possibly offer you is to ask for forgiveness, lay your sins and regrets at the cross.”
Rafael nodded.
“I’ll give you the same advice I gave Kri earlier… I want you to focus on all the good things God was able to achieve through Michael. Celebrate all that he was able to accomplish in Ukraine and when he froze those investment accounts for that terrorist organization. Think of all the lives your brother has saved,” Charlie replied. He paused uncertainly. “May I pray with you?”
“Sure,” Rafael replied.
Charlie walked around his desk, kneeled before us, and clasped our folded hands. “May the name of the God of Jacob protect you. May He send you help from the sanctuary and grant you support from Zion. May He remember all your sacrifices and accept your burnt offerings. May He give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed. May you be blessed and healed by the love and power of God the Father, and may He release greater things in and through you for His glory and honor. Amen.”
Charlie gave us both a warm hug when we stood. “I want you to do me a favor.”
I smiled at him through tearful eyes. “Sure, Charlie. What do you need?”
“I’d like the two of you to start praying together,” he replied.
Rafael smiled. “Sure. We can do that.”
“Take care of each other and keep in touch,” Charlie encouraged as we walked out of the office.
“You have the most amazing friends,” Rafael remarked when we stepped outside.
I glanced back at the building that held so many of the people I loved. “That I do.”
* * * * *
Rafael looked thoroughly confused. “Since when do sporting goods stores sell hairspray?” He tugged open the door to Bob Ward’s.
I brushed past him with a withering look. “I’m not buying hairspray.”
“But you said…”
“Bear spray. B-E-A-R spray.” I stopped abruptly. “You seriously thought I was buying hairspray?” I started laughing. “We’re hiking. Why would I need hairspray?”
Rafael chuckled. “I was wondering the very same thing, but I was too afraid to ask.” His face grew serious as we resumed walking. “Why do we need bear spray?”
I nudged him toward the camping equipment. “We’re hiking through Grizzly Gulch. Why do you think we need it?”
He looked as if he were waiting for the punchline to a really bad joke. “You can’t be serious. You’re taking me hiking in bear country?”
I began scouring the shelves. “I think the entire state of Montana qualifies as bear country. You’re just as likely to encounter one next to the garbage cans behind Dan’s house as you are on this trail we’re going to be hiking.” I grabbed a large metal can from the shelf. I quickly located the holster that would allow me to attach the can to my belt. I started toward the cashier. “I’ve only run into bear twice on this trail, and those bear were some distance away. They usually hear us coming and run the other way. Why? Surely you’ve seen a bear before…”
Rafael frowned. “No. There are no bear in Portugal. They’re pretty much extinct in my country.”
My eyes widened with disbelief. “You’ve never seen a bear?”
He shook his head. “So, what does the spray do?”
I set the bear spray and holster on the counter and handed the cashier a wad of money. “This is a giant can of pepper spray. If we get too close to a bear we can spray this and temporarily blind the bear so we can run away.”
“Can’t we just climb a tree?” Rafael asked.
I shook my head. “Black bears climb trees, and grizzly bears are huge. They can reach pretty high up when they stand on their hind feet, and they’ll do it faster than you can climb.” I glanced at the cashier. “Do you guys still have that grizzly bear mounted in the back of the store?”
He nodded. “He’s over by the hunting supplies.” He pointed to the far corner of the store.
I grabbed Rafael’s hand. “Come with me.”
We were a good six feet away from the mounted grizzly when Rafael came to an abrupt stop. “We’re not hiking.”
I laughed. “Yes, we are.”
He eyed the bear warily, as if it might suddenly spring to life. “That thing has got to be close to nine feet tall.”
I nodded. “Imagine how high it could reach with those arms.”
He shivered when he got a load of the claws. “We’re not hiking,” he repeated a bit more assertively.
I grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the door. “We are too. I’ve hiked Grizzly Gulch countless times, and I’ve never run into a grizzly, only black bears.”
“Remind me why we’re doing this,” he insisted as we stepped outside the store.
“The view is breathtaking and very peaceful,” I replied.
Rafael didn’t look convinced.
He came around when he caught sight of the Mount Helena Ridgeline, some twenty minutes later. “It’s beautiful,” he breathed, staring up at the sprawling mountain top. The first part of the trail involved a series of switchbacks carved into a hillside that was swaddled in yellow, blue, and white wildflowers. There wer
e very few pine trees at the base of the trail, but there were a considerable amount along the top.
I smiled at Rafael as I began stretching my legs. “Are you ready to do this?”
“As long as I get to carry the bear spray,” he replied. He tugged his heel toward his hamstring as he began stretching out. “How long is this hike anyway?”
I reached for my water bottle. “Seven and a half miles. Dan and Kimme are moving the jeep to the other end of the trail so we don’t have to hike back.”
“Okay. Let’s do this.” He strapped the bear spray around his belt, grabbed the backpack, and walked toward the base of the trail. “Ladies first,” he said, waving me forward.
“You just want to look at my bottom,” I whined.
“No. I want to hike behind you so I can catch you if your foot slips on these rocks,” he replied.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, right.”
“And look at your very fine bottom,” he added with a laugh.
It wasn’t long before we were both breathing too hard to speak. The switchbacks helped, but it was still a very steep climb. We made it to the top of the ridge about thirty minutes later. I braced my hands on my knees while I caught my breath. “What do you think?” I finally asked.
Rafael took a long pull from his water bottle. “This view is amazing. When you look out over the back of this ridge, it feels like we’re the only two people on the planet.”
A Meadowlark called from a nearby tree. I sighed contentedly when a gentle breeze brushed against my skin. “I love how peaceful it is up here.”
Rafael reached for my hand as we began walking along the top of the ridge. The trail was wide enough here so that we could walk side by side. “Would you like to move back here when you’re done with school?”
I shook my head. “No. I’d like to visit more often, but there are too many ghosts haunting me here.”
Rafael quietly considered my remark. “Have you decided what you want to do with the house in Paris?” he finally asked.
Speaking of ghosts, I thought. “I don’t want to be responsible for the staff losing their jobs, but I can’t stay in that house. It’s too painful.”
“Why don’t we put it on the market and see what happens? Maybe the new owners will hire the staff,” he suggested softly, “or I can ask Devry to help them find other families to work for.” Devry was helping us manage Michael’s estate.
I took a deep breath and blew it out. This did little to ease the tightness in my chest. “What if we were to keep the house but use it for another purpose?” I inquired softly.
He glanced at me curiously. “Like what?”
“I’m not even sure this is possible, but I’d really like to take this horrific experience and turn it into something good. What if we formed our own NGO, kept the staff, and offered the house as temporary refuge for people who have been held as political prisoners or people who are seeking asylum for speaking out against oppressive governments? There are sixteen bedrooms in that house. We could help a lot of political refugees.”
Rafael looked thoughtful as he turned the idea in his head. “How would we go about identifying these people?”
I shrugged. “Senator Rockefeller serves on the U.S. Senate Select Committee on Intelligence. I’m sure those senators know people who are seeking asylum. Maxim would also know people who are being persecuted in the former Soviet states.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to get any more involved with Maxim than we already are.”
I had suspected as much. Entanglements with the Russian mafia probably didn’t bode well for someone trying to establish a reputable security firm that catered to foreign dignitaries. “What if we just worked with Senator Rockefeller? Maybe he can help us establish a connection with the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services or the UN Refugee Agency.”
He took another sip of water. “It would be nice to carve some good out of all of this. I’m not sure how receptive the mayor or the other property owners within the eight arrondissement will be to this idea. This is bound to raise some security concerns.”
I nodded. “I can about imagine.”
He squeezed my hand encouragingly. “I’ll ask around and see what I can find out. I’m hungry. Are you ready for lunch?”
I laughed. “I’m more than ready! Couldn’t you hear my stomach growling?” I tugged him toward a cluster of trees that were tall enough to offer some protection from the sun without completely blocking our view. The spot was far enough from the trail to offer a bit of privacy as well.
Rafael shrugged the backpack off his shoulders. He pulled out the red and black checked picnic blanket Kimme and Dan had lent us. We spread the blanket over a flat patch of grass and lowered onto our knees. Rafael studied the oddly shaped sandwiches when he pulled them out of the Staggering Ox bag. “So what’s the story on these sandwiches?”
I reached for the sandwich labeled “Nuke.” “The Staggering Ox bakes their bread in coffee cans,” I explained, as if that made all the sense in the world. “Trust me. You’re going to love these sandwiches.”
“How can I not love a sandwich named ‘Slam the Damn Taliban?’ Rafael asked. He unwrapped the ribbed tube of bread that had been hollowed out in the center and packed to bursting with gyro meat, cheese, vegetables, and a hefty dose of camel spit.
I eyed my sandwich. I had ordered “The Nuke” with ranch dressing, although I’d been seriously considering the “Yo’ Mamma Osama.” Mixing gyro meat with bacon and black beans proved a tad bit too adventurous for me.
I sighed contentedly as we settled in to enjoy our lunch. “So, how are you holding up?”
“Me?” Rafael asked, seemingly surprised. “I’m fine. Why?”
I chuckled. “You’ve been grilled repeatedly over the past few days. First Lexie, then Siobhan, Dan, and now Charlie… and you haven’t even met my parents yet! Aren’t you tired of sitting on the hot seat?”
“Siobhan was the worst,” he confessed with a smile. “In all seriousness, I’d be sorely disappointed if your family and friends didn’t question me. It just goes to show how much they love you. They’re just trying to make sure you’re in good hands.”
I couldn’t for the life of me imagine how I’d won the affections of such a patient and understanding man. “Were you really planning to sacrifice yourself in a hostage exchange?” I asked. As much as I hated talking about Ukraine, this recent discovery had left me feeling thoroughly shaken. If Rafael was willing to sacrifice his life for me, shouldn’t I be willing to do the same?
Rafael leaned forward and tucked my hair behind my ear. He gently caressed my cheek. “Yes,” he admitted softly. “I would have risked anything to secure your release.”
I gazed into his soft brown eyes. I knew he wanted to propose, but he was waiting for me to work through my anxieties. I knew he’d never hurt me. He swore he’d never leave me and promised never to be the cause of my tears. Rafael had kept both promises. He had remained by my side despite my involvement with Michael, Kadyn, and Maxim. He’d tolerated far more than any other man would have. He was completely devoted to me, patiently waiting for me to overcome my fears. So, what was I afraid of? Losing him. More than anything I was afraid of losing Rafael.
Rafael reached for my hand. His voice remained soft, as if he were hesitant to break the spell. “What are you thinking?”
Tears welled in my eyes. “How much I love you. How lucky I am to have you in my life. I don’t think I tell you that often enough,” I replied.
Rafael caressed my arm before cupping my face. Ever so slowly, his lips sought mine. He gathered me into his arms as he deepened the kiss. We fell back onto the blanket as he fit his body to mine.
Rafael’s tongue swept through my mouth. My body heated, humming its approval as his kiss grew more consuming. My heart tripped when I felt his body harden against mine. His lips trailed down my neck, his hands caressed my breasts, and my body responded in kind.
My hands swept over his should
ers and back greedily. I couldn’t get enough of him. I couldn’t pull him close enough, and I was suddenly desperate to feel so much more. There was no fear… only a searing desire to feel him moving inside of me. I pulled his shirt over his head so I could feel his bare skin. “Rafael,” I groaned. I struggled out of my own shirt.
Our kiss grew feverish, despite the gentle breeze that cooled our skin. I locked my legs around his. That still wasn’t enough. I reached for the button on his shorts. I had grown completely mindless with need. I wanted and needed every part of him.
Suddenly, Rafael was on his feet. “What was that?” he hissed. His hand hovered over the bear spray; his eyes focused intently on some bushes that were a few yards away.
I grabbed my shirt and yanked it over my head. “I didn’t hear anything,” I whispered. I scrambled to my feet. I stared at the bushes, which were now moving. The movement was far greater than it should have been given the light breeze that caressed my skin.
A slender deer burst from the bush and darted past us.
“It’s only a deer,” I breathed.
“Not that. That,” Rafael stated quietly.
I turned to look at the bush. My eyes widened at the sight of tightly coiled muscles, hunched shoulders, a flickering tail, and deeply intelligent eyes. I hadn’t a clue how something could be so beautiful but terrifying at the same. “Oh, crap,” I muttered in a hushed tone. “That is a mountain lion.”
He gave me an incredulous look. “A lion?” He ripped the Velcro from the holster. Suddenly, he was holding the bear spray out in front of him with both hands. He had assumed the same stance he would have if aiming a handgun. “Get behind me,” he demanded gruffly. He stepped between me and the beautiful feline.
In a dazzling explosion of sun-kissed fur and muscular grace, the mountain lion was gone.
Rafael glanced uncertainly at me.
“She ran when she heard the Velcro,” I concluded. “Maybe she’s been sprayed before.”
Rafael shoved the bear spray back inside the holster and reached for his shirt. “We’re leaving. Now.” He shoved the blanket and the paper bag from the sandwiches inside the backpack before reaching for my hand and tugging me toward the trail in the same direction we had come.