Leaving Yesterday

by Zoe Dawson

  The way he held her made tears sting Rafferty’s eyes, and she understood what family was all about. This man had changed her life. All of them had changed her.

  “Sorry, Reese and Harley.” And they murmured comforting words to her. She hugged them in turn and wiped at her face. Rafferty came out from behind the couch and Cadie started crying all over again. Rafferty wrapped her arms around her and held her as tight as Trace had.

  “It’s going to be all right,” she whispered, but her heart squeezed when she just wasn’t sure if that was going to be true. “I’ll get her situated,” Rafferty said as she walked Cadie toward her room.

  Trace watched her go with the look of a man who knew his sister was growing up, had grown up, and was moving to a place where he might not be able to control. The look on his face said that he didn’t like that notion too much.

  Once inside her room, Rafferty sat her down and said, “What happened?” Cadie took a breath, tears gathering again, and the whole story came pouring out. After she’d heard everything, Rafferty shooed her off to the shower and sat on her bed. Wow. Now she was worried. With her feelings for Brooks tangling her up, his own serious problems, their young age, and Cadie’s aspirations, she couldn’t help but think she was heading toward heartbreak and, unreasonably, Rafferty wanted to be here to see her through all of that. But that was absurd and impossible. Wasn’t it?

  They ate the fluffiest, most delicious cinnamon waffles that Cadie made. Rafferty didn’t miss how she kept checking her phone.

  Trace took the last bite of his waffle and said, “I’ll make you a deal, Cadie.”

  “What?”

  “I promise you that if you ever find yourself in that position again, I won’t argue. If you promise to call me and let me know that you’re safe.”

  “That’s a deal. I promise.”

  He let out a breath and looked over at her. “In fact, don’t hesitate to call me for whatever reason. I love you, kid.”

  She hugged him.

  After Cadie went off to her shift at the diner, Trace leaned back in his chair. “I’ve got a surprise for you. Jimmy’s on his way over to open up the garage, but I’m taking the day off.”

  She got off her chair, needing to be close to him, feeling as if their time was dwindling way too fast. It would only be days now that her parts would arrive and get installed. Settling in his lap, his eyes twinkling now, she smoothed her hand over his hair. “Wow, you taking a day off? Wait…is that the foundation of the world cracking? Ohmigod, it’s going to come down. Take cover.”

  He grabbed her around the neck, laughing. “Do you want your surprise or what?”

  “Oh, okay,” she said with a long, suffering sigh. “I guess I can handle that.”

  He grinned.

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  “Aren’t you exhausted?”

  “Not anymore.”

  They jumped in his truck and he drove out of town. Her father called again, but she declined the call. She quickly texted him that it wasn’t a good time for them to talk. He texted back short and sweet. Make time.

  When they turned onto Halfmoon Road, Rafferty’s chest got tight and continued to constrict until he pulled up outside the inn. Excitement and trepidation mixed into a cocktail of craziness as she looked at the beautiful piece of property. The rainbow arched across it, a reflection of the sun shining through the heavy flow of water.

  The rainbow seemed brighter today, almost three dimensional, and the inn was like its tangible pot of gold. She was wondering if he was going to take her up the trail to the top of the waterfall. It was a beautiful day for a hike.

  “I have the key. I got it from Mr. Murphy when I went out to check on that old Ford he drives around. Wanna see inside?”

  Her breath caught. “Yes! Ohmigod! Yes!”

  “What do I get for this amazing intuition that you haven’t stopped thinking about this place since you saw it?”

  She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, covered his mouth with hers, and gave him a passionate kiss. “Was that worth the price of admission?”

  “What were we talking about again?” he said with a corner of his mouth turned up in a grin and a dazed expression. She laughed and went for the key, but he held it out of her reach. “I might just have to have another sample to make sure I’m paid in full.”

  She cupped his face. “Is that so? I think you’re snowing me, but since I don’t have any concrete evidence, I will have to comply.”

  “Such a hardship for me.”

  He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her close and for a few minutes she lost herself in him.

  “Come on,” he said, pulling her to the door, unlocking it, and pushing it open. She slowly walked through the place and with each step she took, with each new detail she discovered, she could only think that this place was made for her. She could see the potential in the rough bones, the ideas solid in her head. A new modern spa, quaint themed bedrooms, a homey great room with places to refuel and rest, all with a calming spectacular view of the falls.

  How had this happened to her? How had she found her heart’s desire when she was just passing through? How could she let it all go? Trace, the inn, his family, the town. Everything pressed in on her.

  When they got to the largest bedroom in the place, the bed was still there and a beautiful dresser that would look so good distressed.

  He came up behind her, pressing his body close, his arms going around her waist. “Was it what you expected or a letdown like the town?”

  “It’s exactly what I expected. I’m in love with it, but it doesn’t fit into my life.”

  “Back to the bustle of the city,” he said, his tone carefully controlled to give nothing away. Maybe she was being stupid. Trace did see this as a temporary thing, and she was driving herself crazy about leaving.

  She nodded.

  “And, I was disappointed by the town at first glance, and it might need a facelift and some elbow grease, but this is such a wonderful place filled with wonderful people. I had no idea places like this even existed.”

  He turned her around. “I never thought someone like you existed. So we’re both getting our eyes opened a mite.”

  “I guess we are, but it doesn’t really change anything.”

  “Doesn’t it?” he said before his mouth dropped to hers and she was too full of him to answer.

  His thumb rubbed down her throat, and she couldn’t help thinking that everything had changed and nothing had. Clamping down on the ache pulsating through her, she ran her hands up his arms to his shoulders, his voice tight and uneven when he whispered, “Raff—honey.” He rubbed his face against hers, feeling as if every muscle in her body was stretched to the limit, every brain cell firing off too many thoughts. He lifted her face, gazing somberly into her eyes as he ran his thumb along her jaw. “This isn’t why I brought you here,” he chastised gruffly. “I wanted us to have a chance to talk. And because I wanted to hold you for a little while. Sex wasn’t on the agenda.” Trying to ignore the hot, heavy sensations pumping through her, warring with panic, he eased in an uneven breath. “And I sure in hell don’t want you to do something you’ll regret later,” he said, his voice unsteady. “I’m getting in kind of deep here and it’s going to hurt like a bitch when you leave. I wasn’t going to say anything, not put pressure on you. But, I wanted you to know I think we’d do well together, you and I. Really well.”

  She blinked several times, her heart jumping into overdrive, pounding so hard that it felt as if it would come through her ribs. She shouldn’t want this. But she did. God, but she did. Like she wanted her next breath. He stared at her, her pulse laboring, her breath jammed up in her chest, fighting to maintain her common sense, her equilibrium. Her eyes filled with tears, and she tried to swallow as she reached out and pushed his coat off him.

  He inhaled sharply and caught her hand, blood rushed in her ears. It took her two tries before she could get the words out. “Trace, I can’
t stay,” she whispered. Too many fears, too many responsibilities, too many complications. Holding his gaze, she stared at him with a look of apology filling her eyes, tears spilling over. And, regret, so much regret. Her voice breaking, she said, “I’ve neglected everything I came here to do, and I’ve enjoyed every moment of it. This was so unexpected. It’s hard to keep perspective around you, cowboy.”

  Trace tamped down his disappointment and his feelings. He was a fool to think a woman like this would stay here in this town. He wasn’t going to bring it up. Wasn’t going to ask, but he couldn’t help himself. It came out. His good intentions shot to hell by the tears, he reached out and swiped his thumbs under her eyes. Her tears showed him it was difficult for her and he couldn’t regret that she was crying, but his heart was hurting. She reached up and placed her hand against his cheek and he covered it.

  He tightened his hold on her hand and tried to regain some control. He knew exactly how this was going to end. He’d known the instant he’d touched her that he’d made a mistake, a miscalculation in his judgment. Struggling with regret and the thick surge of desire, he clenched his jaw and rested his forehead against hers, his body painfully engorged. The pressure eased just a little, and he squeezed her hand, then turned away and yanked his shirt free of his jeans, his whole body primed and throbbing.

  By the time he got that done, she had shed her clothes, and the instant he reached for her, she choked out his name and came into his arms. His heart laboring against the frenzy in his chest, he caught her against him and carried her down onto the bed. Flesh against flesh. Body to body. And it was too much, and would never be enough.

  How could he want it all with a woman who was so much like his mother in many ways? Yet his trust in her was already hers, given to her unconditionally as she’d given herself over not only to him but to his family, with a capacity to care that was staggering.

  Dragging in a ragged breath, he closed his eyes in a grimace of raw pleasure as she shifted beneath him and opened to him. On a ragged groan, he settled himself in the hot cradle of her thighs, lost himself in her tight wet heat.

  She was like a dream, insubstantial, a woman he could get lost in, was getting lost in. Even as they joined with aching, warm touches, there was an underlying desperation that gripped them, bittersweet feelings washing over them.

  It felt like saying goodbye.

  Chapter 20

  The day passed on, a stillness settling outside, and a breeze rustled through the leaves of the aspens lining the hillside just beyond the inn’s window, filling the room with a soft, whispering sound. Unwilling to let the pain of leaving mess with the time she had left with him, Rafferty draped her legs over the backs of his and smoothed her hands up, slowly mapping the contours of his back. Too spent to move, not wanting to speak, she savored the heady sensation of the contented moment, loving the feel of his smooth skin beneath her touch. She found several ridges of scar tissue on his body and lightly traced them. Dredging up energy from somewhere, she spoke, her voice husky. “What are these?”

  His mouth was moist and warm and slightly swollen, and she drew her thumb across his bottom lip, thinking about the care he’d taken with her. She watched him, feeling as if he had gone someplace she couldn’t follow. Unsettled, she shivered against a sudden chill and used the sound of her voice to draw him back. “Trace?”

  Her stomach suddenly churning she watched him, as if he struggled at the edge of a deep, dark hole. She could sense the avoidance in him.

  “Shrapnel from a roadside IED.”

  As if she’d gotten way too close to that hole, too, her insides shrank into a hard, cold knot. Experiencing an almost strangling sensation of dread, she clenched her arms around him and said, “IED?”

  “Improvised explosive device. Basically a homemade bomb to take out anything and everything in its path.”

  He shifted and slid off her, pulled her against him, looking away from her as he stared out into the bright day, his hand easing across his mouth. Running his hand through his hair, he finally said, “I was responsible for maintaining and fixing our vehicles. It could mean the difference between life and death. When we were mobile it was safer…”

  It was like drowning, that awful silence, then he spoke, not a trace of inflection in his voice. “The one that took out three vehicles blew apart most of the guys inside. I was in the last one and only got residuals from the explosion.”

  For a moment, she couldn’t breathe just thinking how utterly awful it would be not to have this man walking around, the thought almost paralyzed her. When he looked back down at her, there was guilt in his eyes. She had to ask, not to cause him discomfort or pain, but compelled to know more about this complex man. “Tell me how you feel about Harley. Why you have that look in your eyes.”

  He blinked several times and this time distanced himself away from her, pulled on his jeans, but left them unfastened and walked to the window and stared out. “He followed me into the marines. I was against it, but he enlisted anyway. I knew it was because he looked up to me. I’ve taken care of them for so long.” His voice cracked. “He did me proud, though. Acting like he usually does, he went beyond the call of duty. Every time I got a call about him standing out, I was as proud as a brother could be. He made me humble.” He took an uneven breath.

  Feeling as if every bit of warmth had been sucked out of her, Rafferty couldn’t take her eyes off him, her stomach in knots. He stood as before, his hand resting across his mouth, but now his face was like stone.

  But what wrenched her heart was that beneath that rigidly controlled surface, she saw the absolute fear and love for his brother. “My brother Reese isn’t any different. He fights fire like a demon, doesn’t think about himself when it comes to rescuing someone. They are both amazing. And, I think Cadie is giving me an ulcer.” He turned to look at her, so natural. So male. “I think she has plans that are going to take her away from here, and I don’t like that idea at all.”

  Reese had said he’d been taking care of them since he was twelve. Experiencing a rush of feeling for that youth, and for the man he had become, Rafferty slipped from the bed and crossed to him. Her throat so full she didn’t dare unclench her jaw. She put her arms around him, pulling his head against her shoulder, easing in a careful, constricted breath.

  For an instant he simply stood there in her arms, then he let his breath go and put his arms around her. Rafferty closed her eyes and cradled his head.

  “When I got the call about Harley, I thought he was dead. I thought they were calling to tell me he was killed in action. I saw the news. Insurgents had taken the base. I was frantic to find out what had happened to my brother, and all I got was stonewalled. For a split second, I knew what it was like to lose him.”

  Rafferty swallowed hard, struggling to gain a degree of self-control, an outward calm. There was more she wanted to know. She stroked his silky hair and said, “And you blamed yourself for being such a role model that he followed in your footsteps?”

  “Not exactly, but there was plenty of blame.”

  “I think there’s still plenty of that.”

  She felt his chest expand, then he tried to pull away, but she simply tightened her arms around him, determined not to let him go. Waiting for her emotions to stabilize, she asked the question that had been plaguing her for some time. “What’s the story about your mother?”

  He got even more rigid and silent in her arms, then he took a deep, jagged breath. “I guess I do owe you an explanation of that.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. But I’d like to know more.”

  Tightening her arms around him, she waited.

  “Rebecca, my mother, comes from a very wealthy family. She met my father when she bought a classic car from him. They fell in love and she left her family with the dire threats that if she married him, she would be cut out of everything. She married him anyway. But, living in the middle of nowhere Montana with a mechanic started to wear on her. She left when I was twe
lve and Cadie was only two.” He trailed off and he was recalling it all again in detail. “She’d done it a few years before when I was about ten, but my dad found her and brought her home.”

  Avoiding her gaze, he toyed with her hair, straightening a curl between his fingers, his expression drawn. “It killed my dad. She never said a word, didn’t leave a note or anything. Later on he found out she went back to her family. He started drinking after that and it ended up killing him. I spent my childhood pulling him out of bars, taking care of my brothers and sister. She was a little monster, too. Now she’s grown up, staying out all night with Brooks Gill when she left with J. J. Carson. But the way she looked…ah, hell, I don’t think I can take it.”

  She rubbed his back. She could see the effect that telling her had on him. And his eyes—oh, God, his eyes. Refusing to give in to the feelings churning inside her, she freed her arms, then took his face between her hands, wanting him to look at her. “You can’t stop it or control her, Trace.”

  “Why not?” he grumbled with a tiny glimmer of humor in his eyes. “I love her fierce, and I guess I always want to be there to make sure she’s safe.” Shifting his gaze, he caught one of her hands, then carefully laced his fingers through hers. His voice was husky and a little unsteady when he went on. “He thought the world of my mother—even after she left us—loved her until his last breath. Her name was on his lips when he died. I loved that man, Rafferty. He was good to us and worked hard, even through the drinking. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for him, but I couldn’t ease his pain.”

  Rafferty thought about her own father and how he had nurtured her through her life, laid out everything for her like a warm blanket, tough when he had to be, but a good father. She’d thought she’d gotten herself under control, but that roughly spoken admission, that statement of commitment and support, completely did her in. She brushed at the tears that formed.