by Francis Ray
It was best that he stay by himself. Kristen had learned that the hard way. “He’ll be all over the shop and into everything.” He tried again to give the dog to Angelique. “You keep him.”
“There’s a no-animal rule in my sublease,” she told him, looking not the least bit unhappy about the restriction.
Rafe looked at Damien.
“Sorry, man.” Damien held up both hands, palms out. “Same rule in my building.”
“What am I going to do with him?” Rafe asked quietly, then looked down at the puppy.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Angelique said with an encouraging smile.
Looking a bit dazed, Rafe walked away.
Angelique watched Rafe walk as if every step were an effort as she felt Damien’s arms go around her waist. “They’re both hurting.”
“You gave him something to think about.” He nuzzled her ear.
“You helped.” She turned in his arms, backed him inside, closed the door, and kissed him. “You’ve seen Mrs. King next door with her silky terrier.”
He gathered her closer. “I like Kristen and want her to have what we have.”
Angelique’s heart hammered in her chest. “It wasn’t easy.”
“Someone once said nothing worthwhile ever is.”
She smiled up at him, loving him more each time she saw him. “They could certainly be talking about us in some ways, but in others we don’t have any problems,” she said, feeling his hardness pressing against her.
“You do have that effect on me.” He stared deep into her eyes. “I love you.”
The room swirled. Angelique fought off the dizziness and gripped his arms. “W-what did you say?”
“I love you,” he repeated softly, finding the words were as easy the second time as they had been the first. There wasn’t the slightest urge to run for the door. He could spend the rest of his days with this woman and die a happy man. When it was right, it was easy. “I want to wake up with you in the morning and go to sleep at night with you in my arms.”
She swallowed. Swallowed again, then drew in a deep breath. “You want us to move in together?”
“That’s what married people do, isn’t it?”
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Alarm and fear gripped him. “Please don’t say no! I never knew I could love as deeply and completely as I love you.”
She grabbed him around the neck, squeezing him, laughing and crying. “I never thought … I hoped … I prayed … I love you so much.”
Damien didn’t mind in the least that she had a death grip on his neck. “So your answer would be…”
She leaned back, grinning at him. “Yes.”
“Do we call your parents or my father first?”
“We can do a three-way and tell them together—then afterwards I have plans for you.”
* * *
Rafe sat in his truck for a long time outside Kristen’s apartment, just holding the puppy, before he settled the sleeping animal next to his thigh and started the motor. He turned onto Canal Street and headed for the freeway. He saw the sign for I-20, the way to Shreveport. Gripping the steering wheel, he kept going.
At his apartment, he found a box for the puppy, padded it with a couple of his old shirts, put the animal inside, then sat down beside the box in the kitchen. His hand was on the animal, but his mind was on Kristen.
He could give her nothing. She was better off without him. He kept telling himself that until he couldn’t take it any longer.
Picking up the box, he came to his feet. “Come on, we have a trip to make.”
* * *
Rafe pulled up in front of Kristen’s parents’ rambling, single-story house just as dawn broke. The exclusive neighborhood was quiet except for the occasional bark of a dog. Rubbing his hand over his face, Rafe cast a glance at Sleepy. He hadn’t meant to name the dog—naming meant establishing a connection, and he wasn’t keeping him.
He had been on the highway for almost four hours, stopping only for gas and a doggy break because if he didn’t see Kristen soon he felt as if his soul would die.
When he did see her, what was he going to say? Here’s your dog back? I’m rejecting him just like I rejected you? Sorry I ruined your life?
He glanced at his watch: 6 A.M. Her stepfather was a doctor. Shouldn’t he be up early to get to his office or make rounds? Hoping that was the case and that they wouldn’t throw him out, he got out of the truck, closing the door softly so as not to wake the puppy.
Knowing he’d choke if he thought about it, he rang the doorbell, then stuck his nervous hands in his pockets. The door opened. His hands came out of his pockets. At least her stepfather was up.
Jonathan wore a crisp white shirt, charcoal slacks, and a gray tie. From the hard glare he sent Rafe, he wasn’t too pleased to see him this early in the morning, even if he was up. Leaving didn’t cross Rafe’s mind. “Good morning, Jonathan. I came to see Kristen.”
Jonathan saw the haggard look on Rafe’s face and decided against rearranging it. “Come in.”
“Who is it, Jonathan?” Eleanor said as she came around the corner. Her surprised gaze matched her husband’s when she saw Rafe. He looked terrible.
Rafe snatched the baseball cap from his head. “Good morning, Mrs. Delacroix. Is it all right if I see Kristen?”
Eleanor looked at her husband. A silent message passed between them. She looked back at Rafe. “Did you just arrive?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his gaze searching behind her.
“When was the last time you slept?” Jonathan asked as he closed the door.
Rafe shrugged. “You think she’s up?”
“I’ll get her,” Eleanor said. “Take Rafe to the kitchen and pour some coffee in him before he falls down.”
“I don’t want to put you to any trouble,” he said, but Eleanor had already disappeared.
“Come on, Rafe.” Jonathan took him by the arm. “You’ll learn as you get older that arguing with a woman is a waste of time and effort.”
Rafe didn’t answer, just looked in the direction Eleanor had disappeared.
* * *
“Kristen, wake up.” Eleanor gently touched Kristen’s shoulder. “Rafe’s here.”
The sleepiness in her eyes vanished. She came upright. “Rafe’s here?”
“Yes. He’s in the kitchen with Jonathan.” Eleanor helped Kristen into her heavy silk, peach-colored robe. “He looks terrible. It’s the only thing that kept Jonathan from beating him to a pulp—and my trying to help.”
“I love him, Mother,” Kristen said, then rushed out the door.
Seeing him sitting at the kitchen table staring morosely into his coffee cup, she pulled to a halt. She’d never wanted to see him unhappy again. “Rafe.”
He jerked his head up. His eyes widened. He came out of the padded side chair so fast it toppled over. He didn’t notice that, or Jonathan leaving the room with Eleanor. Rafe never slowed in his mad dash to reach Kristen. “What’s the matter?” He gently palmed her cheeks, his gaze quickly running over her. “You sick?”
With her eyes red and puffy from crying, no make-up, and her hair like a bird’s nest, she probably looked terrible. “I’m pregnant.”
Rafe’s eyes went round. The brief sparkle of happiness in his eyes died instantly. Releasing her, he stepped back. “No. No you can’t be.”
“I am,” she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. “I haven’t been to the doctor yet, but I know. I’m never late.”
“But … but … you said.”
“I lied. I didn’t want you to feel responsible or guilty.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “You’d make a wonderful father and I love this baby.”
His gaze dropped to her abdomen. He shook his head in denial. When he lifted his eyes they were bleak. “I can’t be the father and husband you both deserve.”
“Rafe, you are the only man who can be,” Kristen told him, her heart breaking for all three of them. “I fell
in love with your gentleness as much as your strength and determination to succeed.”
“Can’t you understand? I can’t take the chance that I might be like my father or his father.” He swallowed. “I’d die before I hurt you or our baby.”
“Rafe, you won’t,” she told him, catching his trembling hands, tightening her grip when he tried to pull away. “You’re so patient with Adam Jr. and the students. You’ll make a terrific father and husband.”
He tugged again, this time managing to free his hands. “I … I’ll set up a fund for you and the baby. I … I’ll have a lawyer contact you.”
“Rafe, please! Don’t walk away from us,” she cried.
His eyes flashed. “You think I want to walk away from you, from the baby we created, from having a normal life? My first memory is of him paddling my backside with his leather belt. I kept screaming for him to stop, but he just kept on beating me all the while, telling me how worthless I was. I couldn’t have been more than three.” Rafe sucked in a ragged breath. “The only hugs came from my mother … if he wasn’t around. She feared him as much as she loved him. She’d come to me after he had beat the hell out of me and tell me he didn’t mean to leave welts and bruises.”
“Rafe.” She reached for him.
He held up his hands. “No. I’m not fit to be around you. Goodbye.” He left with the sound of Kristen calling his name, her voice choked. Gritting his teeth, he kept walking.
Outside, he opened the truck door and Sleepy unfolded his fat body and wagged his tail in greeting. Rafe picked up the only link to Kristen he’d ever have. He wasn’t ever coming back or seeing her again.
The cell phone on his belt loop rang. Automatically, he answered. “Yes.”
“Rafe?”
The hesitancy in his stepmother’s voice instantly alerted him. “Lilly, what is it?”
“Rafe, I’m at the hospital with Myron,” she said, her voice unsteady. “The doctors have only given him a few hours to live. You have to come now.”
He clamped his eyes shut, then opened them. “How can you ask that of me?”
“I’m not asking for him, I’m asking for you. You have to let go of the past.”
His laughter was ragged. “How can I, when every breath I take reminds me of that sorry SOB.”
“Rafe—”
“He took everything from me, Lilly,” Rafe said, slumping down on the sidewalk by his truck. “Even my future.”
“Not if you don’t let him, Rafe. Fight. You’ve always fought. You never backed down, although there were times I wished you would have. Face Myron. Look him in the eyes, curse him if you have to, then forgive him and get on with your life.”
His cheeks were wet. He didn’t know if it was from tears or Sleepy’s tongue. “No.”
“Do you love me?”
There was never any question. “Yes.”
“Then catch the night flight here. I want to know that both my sons are happy and free, and Rafe … Hurry.”
He put his head in his hands, his back against the truck. “Not even for you, Lilly.”
* * *
Through the sheers in the living room, Kristen watched Rafe. “He’s hurting.”
Directly behind her were Jonathan and her mother. “He’s had a hard life,” Jonathan said.
“With his father dying, it’s only going to get worse,” Eleanor said.
Kristen turned. “What?”
“They didn’t expect him to last through the next twenty-four hours when I spoke to Adam yesterday. That was probably Lilly on the phone.”
“Oh, no!” Kristen hurried outside and down the sidewalk. The silk robe billowed around her as she sank to her knees in front of him. “Rafe.”
He looked up with hollow eyes. “I hate the bastard.”
“Then tell him and get on with your life.” Picking up the puppy, she stood and stretched her hand out to him. “Come on inside. We’ll check the schedule and take the next flight out to Houston.”
“Kristen.”
“We’re going,” she said firmly. “No matter what. Friends help friends. Lilly needs you.”
Slowly he got to his feet and took her hand.
thirty-two
While Kristen showered and dressed, Eleanor coaxed Rafe into using the guest bathroom to shower and shave, and suggested he borrow some clothes from Jonathan. She had been prepared to hate him until she’d seen the pain and anguish in his face when he looked at Kristen. He wasn’t trying to run a game; he actually believed he wasn’t good enough to be a father and husband.
She fed them both breakfast that neither wanted, but each managed a few bites to get the other to eat. Eleanor remember only one other time that came close to the helplessness she felt, and that had been when Adam lost his sight.
“It’s time to leave for the airport,” Jonathan said.
Rafe tensed. For a moment, Eleanor thought he’d bolt or refuse to go. Kristen came around the pedestal table and extended her hand. He took it and stood to his feet. “You sure you feel up to coming?”
“I’m fine.” Kristen squeezed his hand. “Mother and Jonathan will take care of your puppy.”
He nodded and looked at the puppy sleeping in a box in the corner. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Jonathan opened the kitchen door leading to the garage.
Rafe swallowed and allowed Kristen to lead him from the room. In the back seat, he held her hand. He didn’t release it until he was seated on the plane and he had to fasten his seat belt.
“I’m here, Rafe,” Kristen said.
His hand flexed on the seat handle. “I don’t want to go. He made my life a living hell.”
Kristen circled her arm around his shoulder as best she could. “You’re not going for him.”
Rafe felt the airplane taxi down the runway and gripped the armrest. His stomach was in knots, and it wasn’t because he was flying for the first time. He hated his father’s guts. He didn’t want to see him again, to remember his helplessness, remember his pain.
“I’m here. Just remember. You’re not alone. I’m here,” Kristen reassured.
He swallowed. He’d always been alone. His mother hadn’t been able to help him feel differently, nor had his grandmother or Lilly. He’d always felt that he stood apart from everyone … until now.
He reached for her hand and held tight. He loved her. He could admit it to himself if never to her. If for no other reason, he’d never forgive his father for condemning him to a life without the woman he loved. Even dying, he continued to take from Rafe, and with his death he’d leave a legacy of hate and cruelty.
* * *
M.D. Anderson was a huge complex specializing in the treatment of cancer. The hall was quiet and smelled faintly of disinfectant. The nurses wore printed smocks and tired smiles. They fought a daily battle against death. Sometimes they won. Sometimes they lost.
Rafe stopped outside his father’s hospital room door and leaned his head against the wall. “I can’t do this.”
Kristen moved as close to him as possible, trying to give him her strength. “You’ve spent the last twelve years proving that you can do anything you set your mind to. Don’t let his cruelty defeat you. Please, Rafe.”
He twisted his head to one side, saw the tears brimming in her eyes, and pulled her tightly into his arms. “When I was a kid, every time I saw him I remembered how helpless I was. I’d actually feel the belt lash across my back, the pain, and realize how much he hated me.”
“Now he’s the one helpless and in pain. You’re the one with the power.” She pushed out of his arms and palmed his face. “Don’t let hate destroy your life the same way it destroyed his.”
His forehead dropped against hers, then lifted. He stared deep into her eyes, then he caught her hand and pushed open the door.
Lilly was in a chair on one side of the bed, Shayla seated on the other. Standing by her side with his hand on her shoulder was an earnest-looking man in his late twenties wearing glasses. Rafe had nev
er seen Shayla’s husband, but he recognized him from his grandmother’s description. He returned Rafe’s nod as did Shayla, but she didn’t move from the chair to greet the brother she hadn’t seen or spoken to directly in seven years.
He hadn’t expected the regret to hit him so deeply. Another sin to lay at his father’s feet. There was no way Adam and Kristen would be this cold to each other, no matter what the circumstances.
“Rafe.”
His attention switched to Lilly as she came to her feet. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the new, sophisticated Lilly. The faded dresses she’d worn while married to his father were gone, as was the sadness. Walking toward him was a beautiful, successful woman, her hair in a stylish cut, her steps assured. When she took his free hand in hers, there were no calluses from working to take care of a selfish husband and a dying mother-in-law. Lilly had watched death before.
“Thank you,” Lilly said, then spoke to Kristen.
He wrapped his arm around Lilly, pulling her to him. She’d always put others before herself. His father had used her selflessness to keep her chained to him. That chain had been broken with Rafe’s grandmother’s death. Lilly had loved Mother Crawford more than she had loved herself, but with her death Lilly had finally been able to search for a new life. “I almost didn’t come,” he finally said.
“The important thing is that you’re here.” She released him and looked toward the bed. “The doctor said he doesn’t have much time.” She paused significantly. “The cancer is so far advanced they don’t plan any extreme measures.”
His hand flexed on Kristen’s. They wouldn’t try to resuscitate.
Rafe finally did what he had put off for as long as he could. He let his gaze slowly work its way from the foot to the head of the bed. He was stunned by what he saw. Gone was the giant of a man who used his strength to inflict pain and suffering on him and Lilly as the mood struck. In his place was a frail, emaciated man who was little more than ashen-brown skin and bones.
There were no monitors. No IVs. Death had already been declared the victor in this fight. Each labored breath took him closer and closer to that inevitable outcome.
Rafe waited for the hatred and the rage to come, as it always did when he saw his father. But the emotion he felt was pity. His father had turned all those who loved him against him until he had no one.