Raphaela's Gift

by Sydney Allan

  When the press had their questions answered and had taken their photographs, Faith said, "If I hadn't seen Steven act like that with my own eyes, I'd never believe it."

  "Me neither," Garret said as he gave her shoulders a squeeze. "Well, one good thing should come out of that. He won't be chasing you around anymore."

  "Nope. Suppose not. Now you don't have any competition. Hmmm. Could be a problem." She turned and gave him a quick kiss.

  Garret chuckled. "By the end of today, you'll be a celebrity. You'll have men chasing you across the country."

  "God, I hope not! Besides, I don't want to be a celebrity." She laughed as she looked around the gallery at the guests milling about. "A Celebrity. Don't you think you're exaggerating a little? This is Cincinnati, not New York."

  "You never know. An incredibly beautiful woman like you splashed over the culture pages of the newspapers…" He took her hand in his. "Now. I think it's time you go meet your fans, eh?"

  The rest of the evening passed in a blur of smiling faces and countless questions and accolades. Faith's mother slipped hints of upcoming shows into Faith's ear whenever she got an opportunity, each time she introduced her to a guest, every time they passed each other, even in the bathroom. Yet, all Faith wanted was peace and quiet. And Garret.

  As the hours droned on, the only thing that mattered was the feel of Garret's hand clasped around hers, and the occasional smile of a patron admiring a painting. Increasingly, as the night drew to a close, she grew more convinced this life was not for her.

  Although painting had been liberating and rewarding, the past month and a half of isolation had grated. And this side--the public side--was something she'd never learn to like. She didn't even want to think about the traveling.

  No. This wasn't what she'd dreamed it would be years ago. Not that it surprised her.

  As soon as they stepped out of the gallery, Garret asked, "So, what did you think? Was it everything you dreamed it would be?" He looked at her before glancing up and down the road.

  Faith admired the line of his jaw, and the way the streetlights shown silver-blue in his curls. As she walked with him down the sidewalk, wishing he would stay in the loft with her that night, and regretting he couldn't, she answered, "No. It wasn't."

  "Really?"

  They rode the elevator in silence, Garret seeming very tense. When they reached the top floor, she unlocked the door and let them in, shedding her coat and tossing it on the chair inside the entry. "Are you surprised? Did you really expect me to want to be in the spotlight like that?"

  "No. I didn't think you'd like it, but I'm glad you got to experience it." Catching her hand as she walked toward the kitchen, he gathered her into his arms. "Are you sure this isn't what you want? From what your mother said, you could have it all--the big shows in New York, commissions, anything you want."

  "All I want…" She paused. Was it too soon to talk about 'forever'? "All I want is you."

  His smile was warm, his expression touched with love, as he bent to claim her mouth. His mouth closed over hers, his tongue teased her lips. The kiss deepened until every nerve in her body was energized and every muscle was taut.

  His hands slid from her shoulders, running down the slope of her spine before cupping under her bottom. The intimacy of his touch sent shockwaves of need through her. What this man did to her!

  "Oh God," she moaned into his mouth.

  He swept her from her feet, carried her to the couch and eased her gently down, his gaze heated, his eyelids heavy as he stood over her. He dropped to his knees. "Before we get carried away, I need to ask you something."

  She pushed to sit up, puzzled, heat pulsing through her veins. "Ask me?"

  He reached his hand into his pocket and withdrew a deep blue velvet box. "Faith LeFeuvre--" he began, then stopped. His face flushed bright red as he swallowed several times. "Faith LeFeuvre, you’re the woman of my dreams, the woman who has touched my heart and completed my soul, and I learned over the past six weeks that I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life making you happy." With his free hand, he gently lifted the box lid, revealing a diamond ring. "Will you marry me?"

  But Faith didn't give a damn about the ring, as gorgeous as it was. All she cared about was the man kneeling before her and the life they would share.

  "Oh, God, Garret! Yes!" She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and catching him by surprise. They fell to the floor, locked in an embrace. " I’ll marry you."

  "Thank God." Garret rolled over top of her, gazing down into her eyes. "I had no idea what I would have done if you had said you wanted to move to New York!"

  "There is no choice. Kent beats New York hands down," she answered, pulling on his neck and claiming the mouth that would be hers to taste and enjoy for the rest of her life.

  * * *

  This was it, their first day in business. Faith held her breath as she stepped through the glass doorway and into the corridor still smelling of fresh paint and cut wood.

  "Good morning, Mrs. Damiani," Frankie's voice greeted her as Faith walked past the white front desk. Her face heated instantly at the sound of Frankie's greeting. She still wasn't used to it-- Mrs. Damiani--but after six months of marriage, she was getting there. At least she didn't look around for Marian whenever someone said it anymore. Marian had gladly surrendered the title. She was now Mrs. Michael Collins.

  Frankie stepped from behind the desk's raised counter, a cake in her hands, blazing with dozens of candles, and Raphaela at her side. "Congratulations" was written in red frosting across the cake's top.

  "We thought this was as good a time as any for a celebration," Frankie said with a broad grin. The clinic's employees stepped from their hiding places, their smiles as beaming as the flares on the cake.

  Faith's eyes burned. In a year and a half, her entire life had changed, her career, her personal life, everything. And it was still more than she could handle sometimes. Every night, as she lay beside Garret and listened to his soft snore, she wondered if she would wake up one morning and discover it had all been a dream.

  A tiny nudge tickled her deep in her belly, and she looked at Frankie in surprise, laying her hand where she'd felt the flutter. "I think I just felt something. Come here! Come here, Ella and feel."

  Raphaela ran to Faith, and Frankie thrust the cake at the woman standing next to her and ran to Faith's side. Faith took their hands and placed them on her softly rounded belly.

  "Where?" I don't feel anything. Frankie said.

  "Right here," Faith answered, moving Frankie's hand lower. Another flutter. "Did you feel that, Ella? That's your baby sister!"

  Raphaela looked up at Faith's face, wonder in her eyes, and smiled.

  Frankie giggled. "That feels so strange."

  "You should feel it on the inside." Faith closed her eyes and sighed. "It's really happening. I can't believe it." Her eyes and nose burned fiercely, and the tears she hadn't been able to hold at bay lately slid down her cheeks once again. "A little person is in there. I can't believe it." She looked around her at all the people watching, her employees, her friends, Raphaela. "I'm sorry, everyone. Darn hormones. Last night, I watched Lassie with Ella and cried like a baby."

  "Who wouldn't? That movie is a tearjerker, pregnant or not," Amy, the receptionist said, a gentle smile spreading over her face.

  Frankie gathered Faith and Raphaela into her typically stifling embrace. "Oh, Faith. I'm so happy for you." She released them from the hug, but still held Faith's shoulders. "Now, where's that hunky man of yours?" Frankie glanced up at the clock. "Nine fifteen. He's late."

  "Who's late?" Garret said from behind them.

  Faith's eyes burned anew as she watched Raphaela run to her daddy and hug his knees.

  This morning when she'd awoken, she'd sworn she couldn't be any happier than she was, but now she knew she'd been mistaken. She was happier than any one person deserved to be. A new life was growing inside her, and she and her husband were
opening their new clinic today.

  "Raphaela's Gift," they'd decided to call their non-profit clinic for autistic children. Their employees, friends of friends, past associates, a few cousins, had come eagerly, even though they'd been told the wages would be less than spectacular. The best part, Faith would be doing what she loved, surrounded by the people she loved.

  "Garret, I felt the baby," she said, smiling through the persistent tears.

  He lifted Raphaela into his arms, kissed her cheek, and walked to Faith's side. "You did? And he didn't wait for me to get here? I can't believe it!" He kneeled down and tickled her stomach. "Hello, son! It's me, your father. We had this talk, remember? You were supposed to wait for your cue."

  Faith laughed and Raphaela giggled, as did everyone in the room. "She is impatient, just like her father." Faith reached for Garret's hand and tugged him to stand.

  "He has a mind of his own, just like his mother," Garret said, kissing her nose. "And I wouldn't have it any other way." He rested his hands on her stomach again and waited for a moment and then with a shrug said, "Well, he's sleeping, of course. Now that I want to meet him. So we may as well get to work. We have a business to run. Our first patient is due to arrive any minute now." He gave her one last kiss and then with a smile walked past her toward his office, Raphaela trailing behind him.

  Grateful for everything, for her home, the love she'd found with Garret, Raphaela, the new baby, Faith walked to her studio at the end of the hallway. She flipped on the light switch, and bathed the entire room in bright light. Then, she went to the wall of windows and drew each blind, welcoming even more light into the room, until the white of the walls was crisp as new fallen snow and the shadows had been chased from every nook. A knock sounded at the door.

  Her first patient. Their first patient. Another wave of joy wound its way up from her chest and washed her face in heat. This was what she was supposed to do--the work of her heart. "Come in," she called across the room.

  The door hinges creaked as the door slowly opened. A reluctant boy stood framed by the portal, his eyes lurching, carrying his gaze through the room before settling upon the canvas. He stepped forward, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth, and Faith smiled to his mother who stood next to him looking as reluctant as her son had a moment earlier.

  "Good morning," Faith greeted the mother, who was now watching her son with wonder-filled eyes as he walked to one of Faith's paintings sitting on the floor and pointed at it.

  "He's never…" She trailed off, sobs shaking her shoulders and her face dropping into her hands.

  Faith stepped up to her and laid her hand on the woman's shuddering arm. The woman looked up, through teary eyes. "He's never pointed, never smiled."

  "And this is only the beginning," Faith told her with confidence. "You have a wonderful, magical journey ahead of you."

  "Magical," the woman repeated, a smile breaking through the tears. "I never believed in magic…until now."

  "Neither did I, before I discovered Raphaela's gift." The tiny life within her fluttered again, letting her presence be known and Faith lovingly laid her palm flat upon her belly looking forward to the day when she would look into the child's eyes, cradle her in her arms. "The power of a child's love and the wonder of discovering it is the most amazing, life-altering experience I've ever had." And the discovery of Garret's love, which was only possible through that process, was Raphaela's true gift. To Faith, to Garret and to herself.

  * * *

  The Favor of a Review

  Reviews, ratings and comments on Amazon are much appreciated. If you’ve enjoyed my story, I encourage you to leave a comment about the book on Amazon.com. You’ll also have a chance to rate the book and share your rating with friends on Twitter and Facebook when you turn the last page.

  I read all the reviews of my books and love to hear what readers have to say. If you have a moment, I would be grateful for your time. My sincerest thank you.

  *****

  Please turn the page for a special sneak preview of RESCUE ME, a quirky romance novel about secrets, forgiveness and falling in love.

  She usually does all the rescuing. But love has a way of changing everything.

  Hailey Jensen is in the rescue business--animal rescue--and more than willing to risk life and limb for fowl or fauna. Just when life couldn't get better, her world crumbles. Her identical twin has cancer, and her marine rescue is failing before it even gets started. Lacking coping skills, she takes refuge behind sarcasm and solitude.

  But, thanks to Dr. Rainer Hartmann, her sister's friend and a man who mistakes overbearing control for helping, she finds herself on the opposite end of the control stick. A wildly independent woman, Hailey fights with the determination of a bulldog as Rainer struggles to drag her out of despair...and into his arms.

  An Excerpt From: RESCUE ME

  Copyright © SYDNEY ALLAN, 2011

  Chapter 1

  Some days were better spent in bed, safe from the whim of fate. Hailey Jensen had the feeling this was one of those days.

  "Why do these things happen to me?" She watched the emaciated dog creep out of sight around the corner of the battered building and threw her hands up in desperation.

  "What are we gonna do?" Amy whispered, her voice shaky.

  Hailey turned to watch the retreating group behind her. The backs of their shirts read, "CS Marine Rescue Society", and they ran toward the shore where a beached whale lay suffocating. She should be with them. She'd driven almost ten hours to gain experience with marine rescue.

  But she couldn't go. Her conscience wouldn't allow it, no matter how much the lost opportunity meant to her.

  "I don't know." Hailey turned back to the building and slicked her hair, sticky with sweat, from her face before gathering it into a ponytail. However, the action failed to calm the currents of confusion churning within. It didn't keep her hair under control, either. A wayward strand, glossy, black and irritating, hung across her face. The salty ocean wind lifted the hair then sent it whipping against her cheek.

  The dog yelped. Again.

  Marine rescue was her future, but rescuing the land-roving, four-legged variety was her present. The dog limping around a dilapidated warehouse was in desperate need of help. There wasn't anyone else. The marine rescue group was already attending to the suffering whale, and they'd need every member to return the animal to the water.

  After a few deep breaths, she nodded to her employee.

  Amy nodded back, but Hailey swore she saw disappointment in the young woman's mocha-colored eyes.

  "You can go with the whale group if you want," Hailey offered.

  "No. I'll stay with you."

  "I'm sorry. I know when you agreed to come, you expected--"

  "Shut up, and let's go get the dog." Amy grinned, the expression no doubt an attempt to soften her tone. "I drove over nine hours to see a rescue, and a rescue I expect to see. Whale, dog, what's the difference?"

  Hailey was beginning to like Amy more and more. She had spunk.

  Since Amy was new--been working at Hailey's shelter, Paws and Claws, for a week--they hadn't become well acquainted yet. At work Amy was serious and quiet. Reserved, but also focused, and an excellent behaviorist for someone so young and fresh out of college. Because hours traveling in a car had a way of dissolving polite reservation, Hailey had a better idea of the gem she'd found in Amy.

  After rummaging through her cluttered Ford Focus and finding a leash, Hailey motioned toward the warehouse. "Ready?"

  "The dog went inside--through that hole over there." Amy pointed at a split in the metal wall.

  Frustrated already, Hailey scrubbed her face with her palms. "Okay. Let's go get it."

  "What if someone's in there?"

  "We'll knock first to make sure. Besides, we won't go in. No sense getting shot or arrested for breaking and entering. If we can't lure the dog out, we'll call the police."

  The tension in Amy's face eased. When the tight line of her ja
w softened, returning to its natural state, Hailey took that as her cue to head toward the door.

  She hated these kinds of rescues--they screamed of the unexpected. This one was not only out of her territory, which officially surrounded the small town of Sequoia Valley in northern California, but it also treaded upon the fine line between legal and illegal, given her lack of authority here.

  After all, she should probably notify local animal control, not play hero.

  But the dog's miserable appearance, its obviously emaciated state and near-death hobble, compelled her to act quickly. If the police showed up, surely they'd understand.

  Going to jail for trespassing was not on the agenda for today.

  Granted, neither was rescuing an emaciated dog.

  She glanced at her watch. Eight-thirty. She had two hours, maybe two and a half. That left plenty of time to return to her hotel room, shower and dress for her appointment. Two hours should be ample time to coax a starving dog from a warehouse.

  The rusted steel structure in question leaned to the left and was surrounded by rubble, its forbidding state heightening Hailey's worries. Any number of dangers lurked within those dented walls, the least of which might be the dog.

  Before she approached the building, she rummaged through the remains of breakfast for something to coax the animal from its supposed haven. The reward: a chunk of sausage. She slipped the morsel into her pocket, slid on some gloves and headed to the door, where Amy waited.

  Hailey motioned toward the door. "Anyone answer?"

  Amy shook her head. "Nope, and I pounded like I meant it. What should we do?"

  Hailey walked to the building's corner. About twenty feet down she caught sight of a window. Fingers crossed, and hoping the view inside wouldn't be blocked, she scrambled over bags of trash, sodden cardboard, stacked pallets and tipped metal drums to the window. A few stray cats bound from the containers as she kicked them, making her even jumpier.