Within Reach

by Marilyn Pappano

  They took Krista between them, Rafael’s arm around her waist, Eduardo’s around her shoulders. Between the two of them they were able to support most of her weight, but there were still painful twinges in her ankle, and she had to keep her jaw clenched to stop herself from crying out. They had gone only ten or fifteen yards when her right foot landed in a hole and she was forced to step down hard on the injured ankle. Rafael felt her grab at his jacket, and he lifted her, but it was too late to stop her groan.

  Diablo recognized his mistress’s distressed voice. Untethered, he started toward her, drawing curious whickers from the other horses and waking the men.

  They heard shouts and curses, and Rafael looked around for a place to hide. The only cover was a boulder barely large enough to shelter one person. Another quick survey showed that they weren’t far from the canyon mouth. He released Krista, shoving her into Eduardo’s arms. “Get her out of here! My horse is right outside. Take her and head south.”

  “I’m not going!” Krista argued, but Rafael didn’t even look at her.

  “If anything happens to her, Eduardo, I’ll kill you,” he promised in a deadly calm voice. “Go.”

  “No!” she cried, but Eduardo unceremoniously flung her over his shoulders and started off at a slow jog. She was heavy for the boy to carry, but he had decided at the beginning that he wouldn’t let them kill her. Contreras’s threat was just a little added incentive.

  Marshall and the other man were closing in, and Rafael dived behind the boulder as the first shots were fired. He pulled the Magnum from its holster, took careful aim and squeezed the trigger.

  Hitting a moving target in the dawn light wasn’t easy, and his first two shots missed. They had the effect, however, of forcing the two men to seek cover, giving Eduardo precious extra time to get away with Krista.

  Krista was furious. “Put me down!” she shrieked. “I’m going back!”

  Eduardo obeyed her only when he reached the horse, but he didn’t put her on the ground; he settled her into the saddle. “Get out of here!” he ordered.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going back in there to even the odds.”

  She had been disappointed when he joined them last night. Though she had met the boy only once, she had liked him. But only a few hours after his arrival he’d told her that he would try to help her get away. Now he was going back, endangering his own life to help Rafael. Her eyes stung with tears. “I want to go with you,” she begged. “Please, Eduardo, let me go.”

  He shook his head. “You can’t help. He could die, lady, and then they’d kill you. He would have died for nothing.”

  He jerked his head in the direction behind her. “That’s south. Go on. We’ll catch up.”

  There was more gunfire, and Krista flinched. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she reached for the reins and urged the horse in the direction Eduardo had indicated. It took all her strength and willpower to stop herself from turning back into the canyon, but Eduardo had been right. She couldn’t help Rafael now.

  She didn’t ride far before turning the horse around to face the canyon. She sat frozen in the saddle, listening to the gunshots, imagining the worst and praying for the best.

  Rafael was reloading his revolver when Eduardo dashed toward him, falling and rolling the last few feet. He flashed a white grin at the older man. “It’s good that I’m quick on me feet, huh?”

  “Why didn’t you stay with Krista?”

  “She’s all right. She’s probably waiting at a safe distance.”

  A bullet hit the rock directly above their heads, and the soft stone splintered, raining down on them. Rafael rolled onto his stomach and peered through the low bushes in the direction the shot had come from. He took aim at a patch of faint blue and pulled the trigger with a slow, deliberate squeeze. Next he heard a cry, and the blue patch didn’t move again.

  “That leaves Marshall,” Eduardo called.

  Even as he spoke, so did Marshall. “I’m coming out, Contreras! Don’t shoot!”

  Eduardo made a gesture of disgust. “He’s a coward except when he’s threatening helpless women.”

  They watched the man appear from behind the clump of sage, his hands above his head. “Did he hurt her?” Rafael asked, never taking his eyes off the man.

  The boy knew that if the answer was yes, Rafael would kill Jack Marshall right there; he could see it in his face. He was grateful he didn’t have to lie. “No.”

  Slowly Rafael rose to his feet. Holding the gun loosely in his right hand, he moved from the protection of the boulder and started toward Marshall. When he was about ten feet away Marshall’s right hand dropped behind him. He was smiling coldly when he pulled out a small pistol that had been stuck in the back of his belt and pointed it at Rafael.

  “You can kill me,” Marshall said, “but you’re going to die, too.”

  The shot surprised Rafael. It didn’t come from his gun, and he knew Marshall hadn’t fired, because he was the target. A red stain was spreading to cover the front of the other man’s shirt, and he fell to the ground. Then Rafael remembered the gun Eduardo had pulled on him earlier, and he turned to see the boy standing behind him.

  “Is he dead?” Eduardo asked shakily.

  Rafael nodded.

  Eduardo paled, and the gun slipped from his fingers. Rafael went to him, laying his hand on his shoulder. “Gracias, my friend.”

  He went to gather the horses, silently urging Eduardo onto one. He swung onto Diablo’s back, grateful that the stallion remembered him from the times Krista had ridden the animal to his house. Slowly, side by side, they rode out of the canyon.

  Krista gave a cry of thanks when she saw them and raced the horse across dangerously uneven ground, reining in next to Diablo. For a moment she and Rafael just looked at each other; then she leaned across, reaching for him. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her onto Diablo’s back, cradling her against the solid strength of his body.

  Tears burned her eyes, and she hid her face against his chest so he wouldn’t see them, but he felt them, wet on his shirt. “Did they hurt you?” he demanded coldly.

  She sensed that his anger was directed at the men and not her, and she shook her head. “No, they didn’t hurt me.”

  “They scared you.”

  “I’m all right. Thank you, Rafael—and you, Eduardo. Thank you so much.”

  Rafael stared straight ahead. Thank you? He had just risked his life for her, and that was all he got? Thank you? “Look at me, Krista.”

  She kept her head down, her eyes locked on his shirt.

  “Damn you, look at me!” he shouted.

  People and horses alike were startled by his shout. Diablo sidestepped nervously, and Eduardo wisely guided his horse some distance away.

  Rafael grabbed her chin in one hand and forced her head up. “Damn it, Krista, I love you!” he growled in a low, raspy voice. “You’ve spent enough time condemning me for what I’ve done. Now you’re going to start forgiving me.”

  “Forgive you?” she asked in disbelief. “You used me! You betrayed me! You took my love, knowing that it was all just part of your job!”

  “You weren’t my job. Your damned father was! Krista—” He stopped himself. Anger would get him nowhere, and after the ordeal she’d been through, she didn’t need his anger. So he took a few deep breaths to calm himself, then said softly, “Forgive me, Krista. Please, querida.”

  “I want to,” she said sadly, “but I don’t know if I can trust you again, Rafael.” But even as she said the words, she knew that she had no choice. Rafael was her love and her life, and she needed him. Without trust, how long could their love survive? And without love, how long could she survive? The thought brought her to tears again, and he let her cry, murmuring soft Spanish words of comfort in her ear.

  When her sobs quieted he lifted her face. “I can’t change anything I’ve done, Krista. I can’t magically erase all the hurt, or my betrayal. But I love you, and I can make y
ou happy. You’re never going to be happy without me, Krista. You love me, and you need me, and I need you. Give us a chance, cariña.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” she whispered sadly.

  Grimly he accepted that—for the time being. “Do you want to ride Diablo or my horse?”

  “Can I stay here? Diablo doesn’t mind.”

  He agreed solemnly, but one corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. She might think she couldn’t forgive him, that she couldn’t trust him, but she was wrong. She still loved him. She knew he loved her, and she trusted him. She just didn’t know it yet.

  Rafael glanced at his watch. If they headed west to cross the highway, then turned south, they could make it to Jim Stone’s house in a couple of hours. Krista would be safe there. He called to Eduardo to rejoin them.

  “How did McLaren find out about my investigation?”

  “How did you find out what was happening at his house?” Eduardo replied.

  Rafael cursed softly. “Ruben.”

  “If you caught McLaren, he wanted you to be grateful for his help. If McLaren got away with it, he wanted him to be grateful, too.”

  When they reached the Stone house Jim was already in uniform, preparing to leave. With a curious glance at Krista and Eduardo, he motioned Rafael to the side. “I don’t know what you and your buddies from New York have been up to, but all hell broke loose at the McLaren place this morning. Thompson just called. They’re busting just about everyone over there, a couple of people have been shot, and he’s calling us in to assist. Do you know what it’s about?”

  “Smuggling.”

  “Illegals?”

  “Cocaine.” Rafael saw Krista watching them, saw the question in her eyes. He asked it for her. “What about Art McLaren? Did they get him?”

  Jim raised one eyebrow. “That’s one way of putting it,” he said cynically. “He’s dead.”

  Epilogue

  Rafael stood on the porch, leaning one shoulder against the post. He wore only a pair of low-slung jeans, and he had a red bandanna tied around his forehead. A sheen of perspiration covered his chest and arms, but he didn’t really notice the heat. August in the desert was always hot.

  It was quiet around the house as he pulled open the top of an ice-cold can of Coke. He’d given up alcohol a long time ago. He had taken advantage of the quiet to get some work done around the house, but that was finished now, and he had nothing to do but wait and think.

  Five years had passed since Art McLaren’s death. It didn’t seem that long, and yet it seemed like forever. His death had been an unexpected end to the smuggling case. Sad. No one really missed the man; no one had really mourned him. Krista had probably been the only person in the entire world who cared about him, and he had destroyed the last of her love by giving the order for her death.

  Rafael’s gaze turned to the desert again, in the direction that Krista had gone. Usually he accompanied her on her daily walks, but today he’d remained behind to get the last minor repairs done around the house so they could enjoy the rest of his vacation. Running the Nueva Vida station was a job he enjoyed, but it had a tendency to encroach on his personal time. He needed this vacation.

  A flash of bright turquoise caught his eye. Krista came into sight first, moving slowly in the late-afternoon heat. Her long blond hair was pulled into a ponytail, then braided to keep it off her neck. She wore a sundress, part of her latest collection, made of lightweight cotton in a shade of turquoise that flattered her deep golden skin and blue eyes. The dress was loose fitting, hiding the slight roundness of her stomach and leaving plenty of room for further growth.

  Impatient to be with his family again, Rafael left the porch and went to embrace them. He swung sixteen-month-old Julia into his embrace as Miguel raised his arms. “Me, también, Papa,” he said in his childish voice, and Rafael lifted him, too.

  Alejandro looked disdainful. “I can walk,” he said, making a face at his brother and sister.

  Krista laughed. “It’s a good thing you can, Alex, ‘cause I don’t think your dad can handle all three of you.”

  “I know, and you can’t because of the baby,” he said importantly. “That’s why it’s good that I’m a big boy. I can help.”

  As soon as they got close to the house the two youngest wriggled down, and all three children ran into the yard. Krista and Rafael stopped near the corral, where Diablo came over to nuzzle his mistress. Krista pushed her hands into the pockets of her dress and leaned against the fence.

  Rafael walked a few feet away, then turned back to look at her. His black eyes moved slowly, like a caress, over her body, over the slight swell of her stomach. The evidence of the child growing inside her was becoming more noticeable every day. He reached out to trail his fingers over her belly before letting his hand drop to his side again. “You’re greedy,” he remarked. “Four children in five years.”

  “I want a big family—like yours. We have a lot of love to give.”

  Again his eyes moved over her, and this time he felt his body respond. In the almost five years they’d been married—and the six months before that—one thing had never changed: the intense desire he always felt just looking at her. He’d never wanted a woman the way he’d always wanted Krista, and his desire for her hadn’t diminished one bit. Even now he wanted her. He wanted to find the peace he’d always found in her body, in her love.

  Krista was looking at her husband with a measuring gaze that was filled with love. He was so quiet, keeping everyone at a distance except her and their children. He needed solitude and quiet, the way she needed him. They were so different, and yet so alike. They had something that few people ever found—love and contentment and respect. Rafael was her best friend, and she was his. She couldn’t believe that she had ever considered giving up everything they had together simply because of his role in the investigation into her father—but maybe she never really had. Even when she was telling him that she didn’t know if she could ever trust in him or his love, she had known that there was no future for her without Rafael.

  “The kids need their dinner; then it’s bedtime.”

  The faintest hint of a smile touched her lips. “I think so. Then maybe you and I…” Her voice trailed off, and she moved closer to him.

  Rafael reached out to slide his hand inside the rounded neckline of her dress. His callused fingers rubbed across her breast before they found the flat little nub that responded instantly to his touch. “Do you know what you do to me, señora?”

  Smiling smugly, she reached down to undo the button of his jeans. “I think I do,” she said softly, teasingly, as her fingernail moved up and down his zipper. “If you’ll help me with the kids, we’ll see if I’m right.”

  Hand in hand they crossed the barren ground to the lush yard. As soon as she’d learned she was pregnant with Ale-jandro, Krista had insisted that they haul in dirt and plant some grass, which required an incredible amount of water. Children needed grass to play on, she insisted, and Rafael was more than willing to go along with her desire.

  “Vengan, mis hijos.” Rafael picked up Alejandro, and Krista herded the smaller two into the house. She fixed dinner, while Rafael washed three little faces and three pairs of hands. After they ate she bathed Julia in the bathroom they’d added on to their bedroom, while Rafael bathed the two boys in the other bathroom. The children were read bedtime stories, then tucked into their beds.

  Alejandro was last. After kissing him, Krista left Rafael to settle him into his bed and went to their bedroom at the end of the hall.

  “Pero no quiero to go to bed,” Alejandro said determinedly, and Rafael hid a smile. One of these days they were going to have to put a stop to the kids’ style of speech. As Rafael taught Krista Spanish, Alex picked it up and incorporated it into his own speech. Miguel, and even Julia, learned it from him.

  “You have to, hijo mio,” Rafael said patiently. His patience with the children was infinite, even when he was aching to be alone with their mother. �
�Your mom and I are going to bed, too.”

  “But you and Mom don’t have to go right to sleep when you go to bed,” the small boy pouted. “Está bien. Ahora I will go to sleep, pero manaña, no way.”

  Rafael bent to kiss his cheek; then he left the room. He found Krista standing in front of the grouping of photographs on the wall. He put his arms around her from behind and rested his chin on the top of her head.

  “I like this picture,” she said, pointing to the one in the center.

  It was Rafael’s favorite, too. It had been taken almost two years ago at the annual Contreras family reunion. In the center stood Krista, pregnant with Julia, and Rafael. They were surrounded by his brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, aunts and uncles and cousins. Next to Rafael was his mother, holding Michael. His father, with Alejandro on his shoulders, was beside Krista.

  “I love your family.” She turned her head to smile at him. “I love you.”

  He pulled her over to the bed with him, holding her so close that her hair stirred with his breath. “You told me once that none of us has a choice who we fall in love with, that it’s something that just happens.”

  “It’s meant to be,” she said with a smile.

  “Yes…meant to be…Even if I could have chosen, pequeña, I would have chosen you. The first time I met you, at the Blue Parrot, I knew I could love you.”

  “But you still kept me at a distance.”

  “You scared me, señora. I didn’t know you. If I let you get close to me, I thought I’d fall in love with you and you’d use me…like Rebecca.”

  Slowly he began easing her dress off. When all their clothes were out of the way he made love to her tenderly, caressing and stroking her, kissing her, whispering softly to her in Spanish. This time, though, she knew what he was saying. She could translate the words of love, and she fervently, joyfully repeated them to him.

  It was dark. Beside her Rafael lay quietly, silent but awake. His arm curved out to hold her close to him, against him. Through the window she could see the twinkling stars, the brilliant moon. The light reached inside the room, bathing their bodies in its soft golden glow. It was a beautiful night, all moonlight and shadows, like that first night….