Rocky Mountain Devil

by Vivian Arend

  “Maybe you need a hobby.”

  Jesse snorted.

  “Maybe you need a holiday,” Rafe suggested

  “Maybe.”

  “Why not? I’m pretty sure you could get away for a while. After harvest, before winter really sets in. Doesn’t have to cost a lot.” Rafe thought back to how he’d spent his summer. “It was good to get away these past months. You teased about cheesy hotels, but hell, I slept in the truck a lot of nights. Or in a hammock in the trees. Talk about a simple life.”

  His cousin made a rude face. “Don’t think I can do that come November. I’m attached to my balls. Don’t want to freeze them off.”

  “If you head far enough south your balls would be safe. Talk to your brother. Maybe Blake’s got some reason for you to hit the road. Take a look around for stock, or some such.”

  “It’s an idea.”

  Rafe glanced over his shoulder at the dark house. “Nobody else moved in with you yet?”

  His cousin shook his head. “I figured you’d be coming back pretty soon.”

  Bastard. “You did, did you?”

  He got treated to a cocky grin. “I know this place isn’t much, but it’s a whole hell of a lot better than the room at your folks. Move back any time.”

  “Sometime this week. Won’t take me long. I never did unpack.” Rafe didn’t hesitate to offer a warning, though. “I’ll be bringing Laurel by at times, and you’d damn well better be on your best behaviour.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jesse demanded.

  Rafe held up a hand, counting off on his fingers as he rapidly listed items. “You will not flirt with her. You will not make her feel uncomfortable. You will not try to join us at any time when we’re fooling around. You will not—”

  “Really?” Jesse leaned an elbow on one knee as he pulled a disgusted face. “I’m not allowed to flirt?”

  Rafe punched him in the shoulder. Jesse responded by laughing, popping off the tailgate and grabbing the rest of the beer. “Oh, and you’re lucky I didn’t move yet into the master bedroom like I considered.”

  “Yeah, I’m lucky you’re a lazy son of a bitch.”

  “Don’t push it. I could move my stuff tonight before you can get back.”

  Yeah, right. “Highly doubt it. That would require you to pack up your shit, and mine is still in boxes.”

  Jesse swore. “Fine, it’s yours.”

  Rafe patted his cousin on the shoulder, firmly, following him into the house. “So what are we doing for the rest of this fine evening? Cards?”

  “We can play crib for money.”

  “Sure.” He dropped into a chair at the kitchen table, reaching for another beer. A slip of paper followed it, clinging to the bottle. He glanced closer at the narrow strip, cackling evilly as he realized what it was. “I guess you didn’t notice that Anna wasn’t at Traders tonight.”

  Which Rafe had noticed, which meant their cousin was probably working, which was why he’d guessed there was an extra good reason to not drive home like an idiot.

  “Shut up,” Jesse complained. “I swear that woman sets up her speed traps deliberately to catch as many Coleman relatives as possible.”

  “Probably. She’s damn smart.”

  Jesse joined in laughing reluctantly. “Yeah, she is. Now prepare to get beat. I need money to pay the fine.”

  “At our usual twenty-five cents a game? You are a dreamer.”

  Late-night card games with his cousin wasn’t what Rafe really wanted to be doing, and yet…it was.

  Spending the night, all night, with Laurel was something he looked forward to, but this time with one of his family was also important.

  Morgan wandered in and settled at Jesse’s feet, resting his muzzle on his paws as he stared up adoringly at his master before letting out a contented sigh.

  Sometimes life was simple, no matter which way Rafe looked at it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sunday morning, seated behind the piano keyboard at the side of the church, was when Laurel felt the most as if she knew what she believed. Familiar worship songs rolled over her one after another and took her to a different place. A place where the sensations of belonging and acceptance were still pure and sweet.

  Pure, unlike the thoughts drifting into her mind about what she and Rafe had done two nights before, and the decidedly un-sweet things she wanted to get up to with him the next time they were together.

  Guilt shot through her for daydreaming about sex in the middle of church.

  You shouldn’t have made it so much fun, she chastised God. The fooling-around stuff. If it was more like doing calculus, not as many people would get in trouble.

  She definitely needed to apologize to God later.

  But in the meantime, she listened to her father as he preached with conviction, each word uttered with deep compassion. He believed with everything in him. His love for his family, and for the people of his congregation—his love, period—was genuine.

  Another source of guilt. She simply didn’t have his kind of faith.

  No, focusing on the music was easier. It allowed her to get lost in memories of when things were simpler. This is what she was told, so this was what she believed. Music, and the voices of the congregation, albeit slightly less than angelic at times, let her slip back to where she knew one thing.

  There was love in the world.

  She stopped after service to grab a cup of coffee and chat with a few of the church members, lulled into a good mood by the joy she’d experienced.

  There was a reason she was supposed to be on guard. Jeff caught her before she could escape, good mood still intact.

  “Laurel. I was worried I’d missed you.” He smiled apologetically at the woman he’d interrupted. “Tracking her down is like trying to find the end of a rainbow, but just as rewarding.”

  Gag.

  But the ladies were charmed. The ladies had no troubles cutting their conversation short. The ladies obviously thought Jeff was one of the most amazing creatures in God’s creation.

  Laurel didn’t blame them too much—she’d been pretty impressed with him herself once.

  “I’m heading home later today, but before I go, I’d like to talk,” he said quietly. “Somewhere private.”

  Hell, no. She barely kept from blurting it out. “I’d prefer not, thanks.”

  He let out a heavy sigh. “Laurel, I want to make sure there’re no misunderstandings left between us.”

  Against her better judgment, she tilted her head toward the hall off the kitchen. Half a dozen volunteers were cleaning up and dealing with the coffee cups, but at one end of the room the tables were empty. It was private enough, yet public. She marched quickly to the back of the hall, taking the chair on one side of a table where the only other place for Jeff to sit was on the opposite side.

  Putting lots and lots of barrier between them.

  He settled in, looking all impressive and friendly. “I’ve been meaning to get in touch for a long time.”

  “It’s been two and a half years,” she pointed out. “Oh, wait. You were with Jessica for some of that, right? I suppose you couldn’t really talk to me then, could you?”

  “I wanted to apologize,” he said. “Things didn’t end well between us, and I’m sorry.”

  She waited.

  He’d gotten the expression just right—contrite sadness. “My timing wasn’t very good.”

  She waited some more.

  Jeff glanced away. “You know, you might consider giving me a clue of what it will take to make a difference.”

  “There’s no difference to make. We dated, then we stopped, end of story. So if that’s all you have to say… Goodbye. Safe travels.”

  She made as if to stand, but he caught her by the wrist, pinning her hand to the table. “Laurel, I—”

  “Let go of me, or I will break your fingers,” Laurel snapped before clenching her teeth.

  Shock slid across his expression, but he let go. “That’s a
little extreme, isn’t it?”

  “Jeff, what do you want me to say? That I forgive you for leading me on?”

  “I never led you on,” he said softly. “What was between us was real. We liked each other, and we were attracted to each other. That didn’t stop.”

  He was being deliberately obtuse. “That’s what breaking up meant, Jeff. That we stopped.”

  “No, what it meant was we were getting too serious, too quickly, and I felt for both our sakes we needed some time away from each other.”

  The numbness inside her grew heavier. She’d dealt with this once—with all the stresses she’d had to face without him. Why was he dragging her back into hell? “So, you didn’t break up with me?”

  “I certainly didn’t plan on it. I wanted us to slow down. Once we’d taken a breather, I figured we’d start over, only with a little more restraint…” He gave her a wry smile. “I’d never been in the situation I was with you before, and I lost control. I’m sorry for that.”

  The irony of Jeff telling her they should’ve gone slower contrasted with the iron control Rafe had displayed, years earlier and years younger.

  But that wasn’t the point right now. Her mind reeled at the idea he was presenting.

  “I’m confused. It sounds as if you intended for us to be together, but I’m pretty sure we didn’t just take a break. You were with someone else. In fact, my memory must be really terrible, because I seem to remember an engagement announcement.”

  “That was long after.” Jeff reached across the table as if to take her fingers again. He paused, then sat back and folded his hands, resting them on the table. “Laurel, I don’t understand what happened. I told you we needed to take a break, then I left for my trip. Before we could fix things, you left school with no warning, months before classes were done.”

  She didn’t need the play by play. That part she remembered. “I did leave. And how long before I left did you start going out with Jessica?”

  “That’s not really fair,” he complained. “All the clues said you wanted nothing to do with me.”

  “And what clues were those? Were you reading my mind?”

  “Laurel.” He lowered his voice. “I know it doesn’t make it better, but we aren’t the first couple to get carried away on the physical side of things. I thought maybe you were punishing yourself for us…going too far.”

  “Having sex, you mean,” she said.

  Jeff glanced into the room as if making sure no one had overheard her bluntly spoken words before he turned back and nodded. “I think we both agree we needed to slow down. That’s all I intended. I’m sorry you misunderstood.”

  Her brain was on overload. That most certainly wasn’t how she remembered things.

  Had she been wrong?”

  “Everything I did was because I cared for you,” he insisted.

  “Dating Jessica was because you—?” No, definitely didn’t make sense.

  “You made it clear you didn’t want me anymore.” He leaned forward. “I cared too much to hurt you more by forcing myself back into your life.”

  A cold laugh escaped her. If he’d shown even a fraction of this much attention to her at the time, things might have turned out very different. “But you’re totally trying to force yourself back into my life now. So does that mean you don’t care about me anymore? I’m confused.”

  Jeff let out a long sigh. “This isn’t helping. The details are too clouded by time, and what happened after isn’t what we need to try to remember.”

  Strange—she might not have the same memories of their breakup as him, but she could remember what happened after like it was yesterday.

  He didn’t give up. “I’d like it very much if we could wipe the slate clean. I’m going home today, but there’s a good chance I’ll be asked to return. If I come back, I’d like to know we’ll be friends.”

  “And that’s all. Friends?”

  A smile curled his lips. “I’d like more, but we should let it grow naturally out of our renewed friendship. I think we could be good together, but we can’t even start until we move beyond the past.”

  On top of everything else, him totally ignoring the fact she and Rafe were together was rude and annoying.

  Laurel folded her arms over her chest. One rude behaviour deserved another. “What happened with you and Jessica?”

  He blinked. “Pardon?”

  She shrugged. “I saw an engagement announcement, yet here you are, not married. Why?”

  Jeff didn’t hesitate. “I called it off.”

  Uh. “Why?”

  His gaze danced over her face for a moment before he spoke. “You can’t marry someone when you’re in love with someone else.”

  The hard knot of pain that formed in her stomach whenever he was around tightened even further. She didn’t want to listen to this. She didn’t want to think about him, or have to waste brain cells deciding if he was being honest, or the most spectacular liar on the face of the earth.

  She’d spent two years getting to a new place in her life, and it was bullshit that he could march back in and effortlessly drag her emotions back to a darker time.

  She got to her feet, and he rose, hope in his eyes. Hell, no—and she didn’t feel one bit blasphemous for thinking it.

  “Thank you for telling me. But I really hope you decide the best way to be a true friend is to never step foot in Rocky Mountain House again.”

  She turned on her heel and walked rapidly toward the kitchen.

  “Laurel…”

  She ignored his pleading call, because up until now she’d been polite. She’d been…proper. The sheer amount of control she’d displayed shocked even her.

  No name-calling, no swearing, no planting her fists in his face.

  But she’d reached the limit to what she could take. And the one thing she really needed was a dose of Rafe. Stat.

  Laurel was pulling into the yard at the Angel Coleman’s before she even thought to call Rafe to warn him she was coming over.

  She’d beat Dana Coleman home from church, and she hesitated for a moment before parking outside the barn where an oversized truck was awkwardly positioned at an angle.

  Even taking the time to make the call didn’t help—she got no answer. But there was noise coming from the barn, so she made her way inside, looking around with confusion at the broken stalls and what seemed to be abandoned machinery.

  “Hello?”

  Sound echoed from an upstairs corner, and she picked a path cautiously to the ladder leading into the loft. She wasn’t dressed for crawling around, but her curiosity got the better of her. Fingers wrapped tightly around each of the ladder rungs, she made the climb.

  The thumping noises stopped as she reached the upper floor, stepping to one side and staring into the dimly lit space, one hand clinging to the long length of rungs that extended above the loft floor.

  “Hello? Rafe?”

  “What’re you doing?”

  Laurel tightened her grip, shocked by how close Rafe’s dad stood. “Mr. Coleman. Hi. I’m looking for Rafe.”

  He spat out a laugh. “He’s not here. Don’t know why you’d want to find him, anyway.”

  “Because he’s my friend,” Laurel answered instantly only to be interrupted.

  “Bullshit.”

  She snorted before realizing he was serious. “We’ve been friends for years, Mr. Coleman.”

  “Girls like you don’t make friends with someone like my boy.”

  “No, of course not.” She’d had too much to deal with that day already. Holding her tongue was impossible. “I’m lying because it’s entertaining to drive into the country, wander into a strange barn and start conversations that have no purpose. I’m actually here selling cookies.”

  The man stepped back half a pace, blinking hard. He seemed stunned. “Are you sassing me?”

  “Probably. Although you could pretend I’m looking for Rafe like I said in the first place.”

  His eyes narrowed.

>   Her give-a-damn was well and truly broken. She planted her fists on her hips, raising one brow as she stared back.

  “Get the hell out of here,” he snapped.

  She waited a beat or two to prove she wasn’t scared, then turned to the ladder and made her way down, muttering evil things under her breath as she went.

  How on earth Rafe had grown up around that man and not given in to the urge to badmouth him every chance he got—

  Rafe was far more of an angel than he gave himself credit for. He was worried about losing his temper? It was a good thing she didn’t spend more time around his old man, or she’d be the one committing murder.

  She made it outside just as Dana Coleman pulled into the yard, and she hurried over to help open the door.

  Mrs. Coleman examined her with curiosity. “Did I forget something at church?”

  “I’m trying to track down Rafe. Mr. Coleman didn’t seem to know where he was.”

  The other woman’s eyes widened for a moment as she glanced toward the barn. “I see.”

  Yeah, she probably did at that. Laurel took pity on her, pulling the basket from her hands and walking them toward the house. “Did you have a good morning at service?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Mrs. Coleman tilted her head. “Will you come in for a cup of tea?”

  Laurel was torn. “I’d love to, but I really need to get in touch with Rafe. You have any idea where he is?”

  Mrs. Coleman took the basket from her and placed it on a table just inside the door. “I’m not sure, but Gabriel and Allison would probably know. If you head over to their place, I’m sure they can help you.”

  “Thank you.”

  She turned as if to go, Mrs. Coleman caught her by the arm. “If you ever need help, you should probably head over there. Straight off,” she said with a perfectly expressionless face.

  All the things Dana wasn’t saying rang through loud and clear. Laurel surmised far more than the other woman probably wanted her to, which is why even though she’d been longing for Rafe to pet her and listen to her complaints about Jeff, a change of plans was needed.

  Talk about a saint. Dana Coleman had put up with that mean bastard as a husband for how many years, now?