Stubborn Hearts

by Hutchinson, Heidi

  Rafe finished his cup of coffee during her story and had to get another one. She very carefully and meticulously unpacked the sordid details of her family tree and what she had pieced together all on her own on the job this summer. She had a mind for detail and Rafe had to take notes in his pocket-sized notebook, a habit he'd formed when he was on the force in Frankfort that had never left him.

  She walked him through the races, the training, the people. Everyone who had come into contact with Faramir's Fire. Her suspicious encounter with Amy Simpson and the man in the black hat. Everything Jesse had shared with her about Dennis and Crater Farms.

  He was drawn into her storytelling, her expression, her earnest conviction that someone had done this on purpose.

  She spoke of her father clinically and yet with a tender sympathy that Rafe found confusing. She spoke of her uncles and grandmother with bold distrust and accusation. And she spoke of Jesse with loyalty and love. Not romantic love. No, the kind of love that a child develops for a friend. The same way she spoke of Red.

  When she reached the part about Faramir's Fire breaking down after winning the Derby, Rafe had to swallow away the emotion in his throat.

  He'd seen the footage. Had watched it over and over again. It wasn't easier to hear about coming from the lips of the heart that had broken in the moment. Exploded was more like it.

  “Will you be at work tomorrow?” he asked, after her story had finished and the sun had long since gone down.

  “Yes, sir,” she confirmed with a head tilt.

  “Would you be willing to meet with me tomorrow over food so we can talk about this some more?”

  Her eyes narrowed and her shoulders stiffened.

  Rafe realized only then what his question sounded like. “In a completely professional capacity of course.”

  “And yet, off the record.” She lifted an eyebrow.

  Rafe worked his jaw back and forth. “Yeah.”

  She rested her cheek on her fist, her elbow on the table. “You intrigue me Investigator Trudeau.”

  Ah, shit. Now he saw it. That thing that Hart no doubt struggled with. It wasn't regular physiological attraction. It was her mind and her sweetness and her wit all wrapped up in a complicated package.

  “I'm going to see Hart again tomorrow,” he said instead. “Is there anything you would like me to pass along?”

  Her eyes glossed over instantly. “Tell him I miss him.”

  twenty-seven

  “Enjoy the drive. Breathe the air. Be content with your thoughts — they're more beautiful than you know.”

  June

  Jesse tossed his keys onto the floor beside the door as he staggered inside. The door stuck slightly and he kicked it. The release of his frustration wasn't as cathartic as he'd hoped because the door bounced back and knocked him into the frame behind him.

  “Uhh,” he grunted. “I hate my life.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, finally getting all the way inside and fumbling the door closed behind him.

  “You've lived here for two years and almost all of your belongings are still in boxes.”

  Jesse jumped, his back hitting the closed door. “Holy shit,” he said slowly, his eyes landing on a shadowy yet familiar figure lounging on his couch.

  Rafe Trudeau sat up fully and swung his legs to the floor. “Geez, Hart. You smell like you fell into a distillery.”

  Jesse took a slow breath and slid down the door to the floor, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “How did you get in here?”

  Rafe glanced at him as he walked through the small living room into the kitchen. “I broke in.” He flipped on the light above the sink.

  “You... broke in?” Jesse asked with confused disbelief.

  “Yeah, it was remarkably easy. You didn't even lock the door.” Cupboards opened and closed out of view. “So I guess, to be more accurate, I walked in.”

  Jesse scowled up at the doorknob above his head that had given him so much trouble. “Why are you here, Trudeau?”

  Rafe swaggered back into the living room and handed Jesse a glass of water and some Tylenol.

  “I need a place to stay the night and you seem like a trustworthy individual.”

  Jesse glowered up at the investigator as he took the glass and the pills. “Right. You're just investigating me for corruption and animal cruelty. But I'm trustworthy.” He tossed the pills back and swallowed them down. “Won't this cause a conflict of interest?”

  Rafe's mouth compressed into a flat line. “I'm not here in an official capacity. In fact, if anyone asks, I'm not here at all.”

  Jesse narrowed his eyes and Rafe ran a tired hand through his hair before turning around to return to the couch. Jesse shoved himself to his feet and transferred his weary body to the chair across from Rafe. Dust billowed out as he dropped his weight into it.

  “Seriously, Hart. Two years?” he asked.

  Jesse looked around his sad little apartment and sighed, flicking his wrists uselessly. “I spend most nights at the stable or on the road. There was never a point in making this home.”

  “You're an outdoor dog, aren't you?” Rafe nodded like he understood. But how could he? He didn't even know him.

  ***

  “I went and talked to Ryan today,” Rafe said slowly, cautious of Jesse's reaction.

  The trainer's scowl intensified. “What?” he growled.

  Rafe ran his tongue over his teeth and rested an arm along the back of the couch casually. “Unofficially.”

  Jesse shook his head, the hand not holding the glass of water curling into a fist. “I told you, she doesn't have anything to do with what happened.”

  “I know.”

  Jesse's head jerked at Rafe's response.

  “Not directly. But she has a stake in this too. You both deserve to have your names cleared.”

  Jesse leaned back, suspicion clouding his eyes. “Why would you want to help us?”

  Rafe sighed. “Fuck if I know. Maybe it's just the right thing to do.”

  Jesse's lip curled up on one side. “Yeah, right.”

  Rafe barked a laugh. “I really don't know, Hart.” His eyes wandered around the empty, dusty apartment, seeing so much of his own life reflected in Jesse's still packed boxes and insufficient home life. “I was just doing my job,” he began slowly. “It was a case. Just a file with some names and boxes I needed to check. But I watched that damn replay of the breakdown over and over again.” He closed his eyes, the image of the massive, gorgeous horse hitting the end of his stride and his life simultaneously. Ryan's flower-print dress draped over his mud covered body, wracked with sobs. “I had to have more answers than what was in front of me.”

  “And what have you found?” Jesse asked darkly.

  Rafe took a breath and his eyes connected with the stormy ones across from him. “More questions. A mystery. An injustice.” He dipped his chin. “A comrade, hopefully.”

  Something eased behind Jesse's eyes, his body visibly relaxed into the chair. “I'm so damn tired, Trudeau.”

  “The truth is going to come out. I'm going to figure out what happened to your colt.”

  Jesse snorted. “You're not even officially here.”

  Rafe's jaw tightened. “I'm really fucking good at my job,” he said seriously. “Tell me why you're willing to take the fall for this? Why aren't you fighting any of it?”

  “Unofficially?” Jesse asked. After Rafe nodded, Jesse continued. “Caleb told me he could protect Ryan from the fallout if I just let the investigation run its course.”

  Fucking rich pricks. That meant Caleb had no intention of fighting any of the charges that would be brought against Jesse. He'd claim no knowledge and sever ties with the trainer, leaving him to blow in the wind.

  “And you believe him?”

  “I believe that Caleb Zacherson will do anything to keep his name out of bad press. Which includes keeping his daughter out of bad business. But it's not about protecting her — ”


  “It's about his own ass.”

  Jesse ran a hand over his face before draining the last of his glass of water and setting it down on the floor next to the chair. “If you get Ryan clear of this shit, I will kiss you right on the mouth.”

  Rafe's lips twitched. “I'm having dinner with her tomorrow.” He rubbed the short beard that he'd grown in the past few days with the fingertips of one hand. “Don't look at me like that, she's not my type.”

  Jesse rolled his eyes. “What? She's too smart for you? Too pretty? Too blonde?”

  “Too young,” Rafe said obviously.

  Jesse nodded, a secret smile playing on his mouth. “That she is. Too young to have to deal with all of this bullshit.”

  “She misses you,” Rafe said.

  Jesse lifted just his eyes. “It'll pass.”

  twenty-eight

  “I don't care if you brush your hair, but I do care very much if you brush your teeth.”

  June

  “I don't know what to tell you, Sandra,” Rafe apologized again into the phone as he fastened his watch around his wrist. “It's a family issue. And you know as well as I do, that I have the right to privacy on the matter, and... I have weeks of PTO coming to me.”

  “Rafe,” she said, sounding every bit the disappointed supervisor that she was. “It's just hard for me to believe that you decide to go to Florida to question Zacherson — ”

  “About that,” he cut her off. “I'll fax my findings in this week, so don't worry.”

  “Right. You just happened to be finished with your investigation just as there was a family emergency. Do you even have family in Florida?”

  “A lucky coincidence.” He sighed, placing a hand on his hip. “I have to go. I'll be in touch.” He hung up without waiting for a response.

  “Do you lie for your job often?” Jesse asked around a mouthful of cereal.

  Rafe flashed him a grin. “I didn't lie. It is a family issue. So what if it's not my family?” He opened the refrigerator door. “How have you survived this long eating crap like that? Chemicals kill, man.” Not one piece of fresh fruit or an egg in site. He would have to stop somewhere and get something for himself — his stomach growled — and soon.

  “Adapt and overcome,” Jesse replied. “All I need to do is survive.”

  Rafe glanced around the apartment for the eightieth time. It didn't look better in the daylight. If anything it looked even more bleak. This was surviving? Well, Rafe grimaced, it did look a lot like his own apartment. Not that he was going to admit it.

  “When you get to be my age, you'll realize that surviving gets a whole lot harder to do with shitty food.”

  Jesse shrugged, indifferent to Rafe's pearls of hard earned wisdom. “What are you doing today?” he asked.

  “Well, sweetie, I have a very important job.” Rafe poured himself a cup of coffee.

  Jesse growled into his next spoonful.

  Rafe chuckled and leaned a hip against the kitchen counter. “I'm going to look into the Spore family. See if I can find Dennis. Do you have any tips?”

  Jesse shook his head. “That entire family exists on a lower plane that even pond scum won't associate with.”

  Rafe rested his coffee cup against his lips. “Ah, good. A type I know well.”

  “Okay,” Jesse said, dropping his spoon into the bowl with a clatter. “You've broken into my place, slept on my couch, used my shower, and insulted my food. Who the hell are you?”

  Rafe weighed the pros and cons of revealing his sordid past to his new roomie. Sordid was a perspective, he supposed. “I don't feel like getting into the long version.”

  “Shorten it.”

  “A couple years ago I was a narcotics detective in Frankfort. I spent a lot of time undercover. I got fired for disobeying orders that ended in my partner getting shot.” He waved off Jesse's surprised expression. “It was barely a flesh wound. It sounds worse than it was, he's fine. I grew up around racing and the KHRC happened to be hiring.” He ended with a shrug.

  “Do you make house calls for every tragedy, or are we special?”

  Rafe sighed, setting his coffee cup down on the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. “If I tell you the truth, you're not going to like it.”

  Jesse's face darkened. “Why's that?”

  “I was bored.” Rafe looked to the ceiling and exhaled loudly. “So incredibly bored. I miss being a cop.” He righted his head and gave it to Jesse straight. “Your case was the first one that made me feel like I could actually do something. And the further I get into it, the more I'm convinced this is bigger than one horse having a tragic breakdown.” He bent forward at the waist. “Faramir's Fire's death has sent the state into a tailspin. I have twenty or more emails a day from concerned citizens wanting to know what really happened. That colt was adored by the public. He made them believe that we could all have a comeback and then he just up and dies after his biggest victory?”

  “Are you hoping that if you solve this, you'll be able to return to being a detective?”

  “The thought has crossed my mind,” Rafe admitted.

  Jesse blinked a few times. “Well, good luck to ya.”

  The smirk on Rafe's lips was immediate. “I don't believe in luck.”

  ***

  Jesse went to work that day with a weird kind of hope hovering in his gut. Just the day before, he had been resigned to taking whatever punishment he was going to get.

  He didn't want to think about it too much.

  But he did allow himself to have the thought of Ryan getting out of this completely clean.

  Which was all he wanted.

  ***

  Ryan pulled her hair back into a ponytail and secured it. She was early for dinner with Rafe Trudeau. It felt weird to be early. She preferred being late, she realized. Sitting at a table by herself was boring.

  “Ryan?”

  Her eyes darted up to see Jeremiah standing near her table, heading for the exit. A beautiful svelte brunette was on his opposite side.

  “Oh, this is fun,” she muttered, smoothing her stray hairs down at the sides and tucking it behind her ears. She smiled and nodded once, hoping that would be enough and he'd move on.

  He didn't.

  His gaze flicked over her in confusion. “You look...”

  “Not pregnant?” she asked with a head tilt.

  Jeremiah's face flushed and he swallowed, eyes darting to his date, who had peered around him to frown at their interaction.

  “I told you, Jeremiah, I was just fat.” Ryan smiled blandly and reached for her glass of water.

  “You're not now.”

  Jeremiah's date smacked him with an open palm on his chest. Ryan choked on her water. That was the exact moment Rafe decided to show up.

  Ryan wiped her mouth off with a napkin as Rafe asked with his eyes if everything was all right. The answer was of course “yes,” but it was weird that Rafe would be asking that with his eyes and also, Jeremiah was still standing there. Gaping. Like a trout.

  “Am I late?” Rafe asked, giving Jeremiah a once over and leaning into Ryan's space for a more familiar greeting than she was comfortable with. “Is everything all right?” he whispered near her ear.

  Ryan tightened her smile and held Rafe's eyes as he pulled back to gauge her reaction. “You're not late. Jeremiah and his date were just leaving.”

  “Who's this guy?” Jeremiah growled and it took all of Ryan's self-control not to facepalm. Did he really think he had a say in who she could have dinner with anymore?

  “I'm Rafe, Ryan's date for this evening,” Rafe introduced himself, pulling his shoulders back, his entire body lit like a live wire. “Who might you be?”

  Jeremiah's confused scowl was almost sad. Until it wasn't. His eyes narrowed on Rafe and his mouth compressed into a hard line.

  “Jeremiah and I used to date,” Ryan explained quickly.

  “We were engaged,” Jeremiah corrected her, his eyes flashing. His date sucked in a bre
ath and Ryan actually felt sorry for her.

  “Well, thanks for stopping by,” Rafe warned, his intention clear. Jeremiah weighed the odds of getting in Rafe's face and Ryan was thankful when he realized he wouldn't stand a chance. While Jeremiah had the tight, lean muscles of a bull rider, he was young and inexperienced. And Rafe... that whole rebellion and authority thing were oozing out of his loose stance. Jeremiah lifted his chin, turned with jerky movements, and left the restaurant.

  Rafe waited until Jeremiah was gone before turning those dark eyes on Ryan. She almost cowered back except that his expression softened upon hitting her. He flashed a crooked smile and took a seat at her square, four-seated table. One right next to her instead of across, with his back to a wall.

  “How was your day?” he asked, picking up a menu but not looking at the selections. His eyes roamed over the other patrons and their surroundings.

  “Fine,” she said slowly, watching him with interest. “How was yours?”

  “Busy,” he answered.

  Their server arrived with water. “Are you ready to order?” he asked.

  Ryan was getting ready to ask for another minute since Rafe had only just arrived, but she was cut off.

  “I'll have the salmon, she'll take the sirloin, medium. We'll both have vegetables on the side, no bread.” He handed the menus back to the server.

  “Um,” Ryan stammered. She was going to order exactly that anyway, but still... rude.

  Rafe waited for the server to be out of earshot before he spoke. “First things first, how long until your inheritance is unlocked?”

  “What? How — ?”

  Rafe's black eyes locked on hers with compassion. His voice dropped to an even lower pitch and when he spoke, his lips barely moved. “You're going to need the money to get out of here. I just want to know what kind of a timeline I'm working with.” Someone passed their table and his eyes flickered up and he waited for them to be gone before continuing. “I was able to learn a lot today, but not everything. You have a good lawyer. Your information is locked up tighter than the gates of heaven.”