Within Reach

by Marilyn Pappano

  “Let’s go home, Rafael.”

  He gently disentangled himself. Allowing himself a small smile, he asked, “And miss the fireworks?”

  “I thought they started when you kissed me.”

  “Be patient,” he replied, “and I’ll make it worth your while. I’ll kiss you in places I’ve hardly even touched.”

  Krista shivered with anticipation. “All right, I’ll be patient. You want to see the fireworks?”

  “Yes. Do you mind being seen in public with me?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Do you mind being touched in public by me?” He wasn’t sure he could keep his hands off her for even a minute.

  “Of course not.”

  “Let’s find a place to sit, querida; it’s almost time. Then we’ll go home,” he said with a smile.

  Hand in hand they moved through the trees, stopping just at the edge of the clearing. “There are Jim and Royce Ann,” Krista said. “I was sitting with them. Do you want to go over?”

  Rafael was hesitant to join her friends. On the ground next to them were Nick Morris and his wife, and Mike Hughes and his girlfriend. But he nodded his agreement anyway, then pulled Krista against his body for a long, hungry kiss.

  From the quilt a few yards away Royce Ann saw a movement in the trees and looked over. After a few stunned seconds she elbowed her husband and gestured. She didn’t want to speak out loud and draw the attention of the other P.A.s to the couple in the trees.

  “Is that Krista?” Jim whispered in Royce Ann’s ear.

  “Yes.”

  “And Rafe?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll be damned.”

  The fact that they were holding hands when they walked over to the quilt escaped no one’s notice. Six pairs of curious eyes watched them sit down, watched Rafael lay his hand possessively over Krista’s, watched her glance up at him and smile. Six pairs of astonished eyes watched him smile in return—a quick upturning of his lips that lasted only seconds but was definitely a smile.

  “We, uh, thought you’d gotten lost,” Royce Ann said a little uncomfortably.

  “I ran into Rafael, and we took the long way back.”

  Royce Ann’s eyes were faintly disapproving, not of Rafael but of Krista’s failure to tell her about him. They were best friends; Krista had always confided in her, but she’d forgotten to tell her that she and the strange, silent Mexican were lovers. And their relationship was intimate; they had the special, tender look of lovers.

  She managed to get Krista alone during the intermission in the fireworks display. On the way to the bathroom she asked, “How long has this been going on, Krista?”

  “About a month.” She smiled serenely. “I’m sorry you don’t approve.”

  “It’s not my place to approve or disapprove. Why didn’t you tell me? We’ve always told each other everything.”

  “I know how you feel about him.”

  “Look, I don’t think I like Rafael Contreras, but—” Royce Ann raised her hands to stop Krista’s interruption “—but I don’t know him. You could have told me, Krista. Why did you want to keep it a secret?”

  After establishing that Royce Ann’s need for the bathroom had been merely a ploy to get Krista alone to talk, they sat down on a bench. Krista turned her serious blue gaze on her friend. “Rafael’s very different from most men we know, and there are a lot of people around here who don’t like him because of those differences. I didn’t want anyone telling me it’s wrong, to stay away from him, that he’s not good enough for me. He’s a good man, Royce Ann.”

  She dropped her gaze to the ground for a moment, then looked at her friend. “You don’t know what it cost him to come out tonight and sit with you and the others. He’s a very private man, Royce Ann. He knows what people think of him; he hears the things they say. He knows showing up with me tonight will mean nothing but gossip, and none of it flattering to him. He asked me if I minded being seen with him, as if I might be ashamed…. He’s kind and gentle and tender. He’s a good, honest man, and I love him, Royce Ann.”

  Royce Ann impulsively hugged her. “You’re special to him, too—you made him smile. I wish you all the happiness in the world, Krista.”

  Krista was laughing along with her friend, but she had to wipe a tear from her eye. “Thank you, Royce Ann. I know some people will disapprove, but I’d hate for you to be one of them.”

  “If he makes you happy, how could I disapprove? And I swear I’ll never call him cold or inhuman again. I always assumed that he couldn’t be hurt by insults. It was a stupid assumption. If he’s kind and gentle and tender, he can’t be cold and unfeeling, can he?”

  “No, he can’t.”

  As they started back to the quilt Royce Ann asked, like an excited teenager, “Has he said he loves you yet?”

  “No.” Krista smiled sweetly, a little shyly. “He said…he said he cherishes me.” Then she pleaded, “Don’t repeat that, okay? If it got out he might be hurt, or embarrassed, and he’s been hurt enough.”

  Her friend was impressed. “Cherishes. That might even be better than saying he loves you. Of course I won’t tell anyone, not even Jim.”

  When they reached the others Krista sat down in front of Rafael, then leaned back against his chest. He bent his head to whisper, “Did you reassure her that I’m not some monster?”

  The floodlights that had been turned on for intermission went off. In the cover of darkness Krista turned her head. “That wasn’t why—” Rafael cut off the flow of words with a kiss, and his hand came up to brush over her breast. The caress was brief, so no one could see, but it made her ache for more attention. “I’m running low on patience,” she whispered.

  “It’ll be worth it.”

  “You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “I’m sure of us, cariña.”

  That was true. No matter what obstacles stood in their way, he was sure that he and Krista belonged together. Their love was too strong, too good, to be wrong. But a lot of good things went bad, and he’d have to be very careful that it didn’t happen to them.

  When the fireworks ended an hour later Krista refused Jim’s offer of a ride home, and she and Rafael walked down the street to his Bronco. “Do you want to stop at your house and get some clothes?”

  She nodded. “I need to tell Juana not to expect me until…when?”

  “Sunday. Monday. Next week. Whenever you come back.” Rafael concentrated on driving for a few minutes before asking, “What about your father? Are you going to tell him where you’ll be?”

  Krista laid her head back, letting her eyes close. She knew she should say yes, but she also knew what Art’s response would be: an explosive outburst of temper. She was too happy tonight to let her father ruin it. “We’ll see,” she replied.

  She was saved from being forced into a decision when they reached la casa grande: Art wasn’t home. She packed a bag, told Juana where she would be and left again with Rafael.

  Krista felt as if she were floating—no, sinking—through thick, soft, warm clouds that enveloped her like a cocoon. Her muscles had turned to jelly; her bones had dissolved into nothingness. The only things that kept her from disappearing completely were the strong arms wrapped around her, her lifeline to the world, to reality.

  “Are you all right?”

  The mustache tickled as Rafael bent his head to whisper the question in her ear, and Krista would have giggled if she’d had the strength. Instead she simply sighed. “Perfect.”

  “Was it worth the wait?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  He stroked her hair between his fingers, then turned onto his side to face her. Black eyes held hers even in the darkness of the bedroom. “I missed you,” he said intensely.

  “Oh, Rafael, I missed you too.” She wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him down for a kiss. “I missed you so much…. I love you so much….”

  “Where are you going?”

  Rafael had eased away
from Krista and was standing up when she sleepily asked the question. He lay down again, on top of the sheet, and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “I would give almost anything to stay in bed with you, cariña, but I have to work today.”

  “Oh, Rafael…”

  “I’ll get off around three or three-thirty. I should have told you last night, but I had other things on my mind.”

  Krista opened her eyes then and smiled devilishly, her blue eyes gleaming. “Show me the other things that were on your mind.”

  “Tonight.”

  She knew that if she persisted she could convince him that being late for work had its rewards, but she didn’t have the energy. “Could you drop me off at the house to get my car? If you’re going to work I might as well do a little shopping.”

  Rafael left the bed and disappeared into the closet. “Sure, but if you want to use the truck instead it’s all right.”

  “You’d really let me keep the Bronco today?”

  She liked that idea. The truck would be fun to drive, and it would keep her away from the house, away from her father. “Thanks. I’d like that.”

  Rafael came out again wearing jeans and carrying running shoes. “You’ll have to pick me up this afternoon, but the rest of the day is yours.”

  “I have a lot of experience at picking you up,” she teased as she began dressing.

  “You never were very subtle, were you?”

  “Couldn’t afford to be. You were so intent on ignoring me that I had to be aggressive.”

  “Maybe I was playing hard to get.”

  “The only problem was that I wasn’t playing. I was dead serious.”

  A smile came to him slowly. “So was I, querida.”

  When they were ready to leave she asked, “Aren’t you going to shave?” His jaw was prickly with a day’s growth of beard, giving him a slightly unsavory appearance.

  “Not now.” He locked the door behind him before handing the keys to her. “You can drive.”

  The Bronco was fun to drive, and its owner remained relaxed and unconcerned in the passenger seat, something Krista appreciated. She remembered when Art had tried to teach her to drive twelve years ago. After two lessons he’d turned her over to Ruben and declared his car off limits to her.

  “Will you be home this afternoon? I’ll call you when I get off.”

  Home. She liked the sound of that. “I don’t know,” she said as she stopped in front of the border-patrol station. “I’ll just be here around three, all right? I don’t mind waiting.”

  Rafael gave her a quick, hard kiss, his beard scratching her tender skin. “Be careful.”

  “You, too.” Krista watched him get out of the truck. A few long strides took him inside the building and out of sight. She shifted into gear and drove away.

  The day passed quickly, because she was happy and contented. She puttered around the house, making the bed, taking cuttings from the plants she’d given him, gathering the clothes they had hastily shed the night before. After lunch in town and a little shopping, she went to wait for Rafael at three o’clock.

  Pulling into the parking lot behind her was Royce Ann. She parked next to the Bronco and went around to lean against the fender. Krista sat in the driver’s seat of the truck, the door open and her feet dangling.

  “I hate this heat,” Royce Ann said without preamble.

  Krista grinned. “And hello to you, too.”

  Royce Ann pushed a strand of black hair from her forehead, then sipped from the extra-large cup of iced Coke she held. “Hello, Krista. I see you’re waiting for Rafael. I hate this heat.” She spoke slowly, her Southern drawl even more pronounced.

  “It isn’t so bad.”

  A van pulled into the parking lot, followed by a Dodge Ram four-wheel drive. Royce Ann waved to her husband. “There they are.”

  Jim Stone looked hot and sweaty in his uniform. Rafael looked cold and dangerous in his street clothes.

  “He looks like one of those border bandits that attack the illegals,” Royce Ann whispered as Rafael’s easy, unhurried stride carried him toward them.

  Krista nodded in agreement as she slid to the ground. He was dressed in jeans and a denim vest left open to expose one very nice chest. Around his forehead he had tied a red bandanna, his usually neat hair tumbling over it. He was scowling and looked fierce. Savage.

  “He may be kind and gentle,” Royce Ann said in a hurried whisper, “but he scares the hell out of me.” She moved away from the Bronco as Rafael reached them. “Hello, Rafael. Krista, I’m going to wait inside, where it’s air-conditioned. I do hate this heat. See you later.”

  Rafael stopped less than a foot in front of Krista. Cold black eyes scrutinized her face; then slowly, beneath his mustache, one corner of his mouth rose slightly. “Your friend should have stayed around. I have a chilling effect on most people.”

  “Not me. Would you be embarrassed if I kissed you in front of those men?” She gestured to the three agents across the lot from them, but he didn’t bother to look.

  He placed his hands on her waist and pulled her snugly against him. “They probably wonder what you see in me. They think you must be too blind to see how unfeeling and inhuman I am.”

  She brushed a strand of his hair in place over the headband. Still smiling but more serious now, she softly said, “I love you, Rafael.” His reaction—a slight tensing of his jaw, a narrowing of his eyes—prompted her to continue quickly. “I’m not asking anything of you. I’m not using you. I just want to be with you…. I just want to love you.”

  But I’m using you, his conscience cried. God forgive me, I’m using you.

  “You’re welcome to be with me as long as you want.” His voice was a little huskier than usual, the only lingering sign of his guilt. “What about that kiss, cariña?”

  She slid her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him. Instead of one kiss she gave him a series of them, nipping at his lips, nibbling his tongue, exploring his mouth in quick forays before withdrawing. Swallowing a groan, Rafael placed his hand on the back of her head, forcing her to hold still while he took control, thoroughly loving her mouth with his.

  “Come with me, cariña,” he murmured, his lips brushing her forehead. “Let me take you to the mountain and make love to you. I want to undress you and cover your body with kisses. I want to touch you, to know that you want me as much as I want you.”

  His erotic whispering sent a shiver chasing down Krista’s spine and stirred a hunger deep inside her. “Yes. I do want you. Please take me away from here and make love with me. Let me have a part of you for the rest of my life.”

  “You are part of my life, part of my heart, part of my soul. For as long as I live you will be a part of me. Every sunrise, every moon, every wind, will bring memories of you.”

  Footsteps approached, and Rafael slowly raised his head. He didn’t release Krista, though; he simply turned his head and asked, “What do you want, Martin?”

  “Where are those papers I asked for?” Martin Thompson asked hostilely. He didn’t like to see Rafael and Krista in an intimate embrace. It proved that he had been wrong about Rafael’s attraction for Krista, and he didn’t like being wrong.

  “They’re on your desk. The left side. I left them there this morning.” To Krista he said softly, “Let’s go.”

  She got into the Bronco and climbed across to her seat. “Why aren’t you in uniform?” She buckled her seat belt, then turned slightly to see him better.

  “I don’t always wear one. Sometimes it’s better if the people I’m talking to don’t know who I work for.” Like today, when he’d been questioning the illegals he met about smugglers in general and Art McLaren’s people in particular.

  She didn’t question him further until they were on the highway. “You mean…sort of undercover.”

  He shrugged. “Sort of.”

  “Is it dangerous?”

  “I suppose it could be. Does that worry you?”

  “Yes.”
r />   “Don’t let it. People are afraid of me. They don’t bother me.”

  She gave his thigh a squeeze. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “You barreled into my life without taking time to consider whether you should be afraid. That’s the way you approach everything, Krista. To you the world is good and bright, and you see no reason to be afraid.”

  “Is that bad?”

  Rafael raised her hand to his lips and tenderly kissed it. “Not always. Sometimes I envy you that. But sometimes it makes it easier for you to get hurt. Not everyone is as good and sweet and nice as you. Not everyone deserves your trust.”

  “You do.”

  She said it so simply that Rafael wanted to die. Her trust in him was implicit. What would his betrayal do to her?

  “I would never do anything to hurt you if I could avoid it,” he said very quietly. “Do you understand that, Krista?”

  She gave a laugh. “Of course I understand. You’re not that kind of person.”

  He silently prayed that she would still feel that way when she found out what he’d done. He prayed that she would be able to forgive him, and he hoped he would be able to forgive himself.

  Once they left the highway the road was empty of other traffic. The truck climbed steadily on the narrow road, finally reaching the clearing where Rafael had parked the last time. Hand in hand they leisurely followed the steep path. When they reached the top Rafael spread out the blanket he carried and drew Krista down with him.

  “I missed you,” she said.

  His eyes were serious. “I’ve missed you, too.” He rolled onto his side, leaning his head in the palm of his left hand. “Talk to me, Krista. Tell me about yourself. What do you want? What makes you happy?”

  “You make me happy. You’re the best part of my life. And a family would make me happy.” Her fingers moved up to glide through his hair, dislodging the headband and pulling it free. Her voice became soft and dreamy. “I want a husband and children. Oh, Rafael, I want a dozen children—beautiful little boys like their father, and little girls like—”