Suddenly so tired of hiding, she tossed her napkin down to the table and jumped up from her seat, putting her hand on Rafe’s back as she peered around him to stare back at the man. “Yes. I’m Eleanor Bellamy.”
The old man grinned and nodded. “Nice to meet you. I used to do some work for your dad. Heard what happened to you and just wanted to say I was real sorry. Both about your injuries in the line of duty and for your loss.”
Stunned, she opened and closed her mouth several times, her hand automatically reaching for his outstretched one. Two fingers from his right hand were missing. He grasped her right hand gently, giving it a little shake. Rafe stepped back, no longer concerned for her well-being and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side.
The man’s eyes jumped up to his and he said, “John Parker. Former Army Sergeant.”
Rafe nodded as he replied, “Former Army Sergeant Rafe Walker. And it seems you know former Lieutenant Eleanor Bellamy.”
John shook Rafe’s hand as well before sliding his attention back to her. Leaning in, he said, “Miss Eleanor, you’re just as beautiful as your mother was. God rest her soul. Your daddy was real proud of you.”
She gasped and Rafe immediately wrapped his arm tighter around her for support. “He was?” she asked in a breathy whisper.
“Oh, yes ma’am. I worked on one of the Richmond shipyards that used to be in our county and would see your dad about once a week. He always talked about you with such pride.” Rubbing his whiskers, he added, “Your daddy was a quiet man…not given to much talk. I think he used to speak to me about you ‘cause I’d been over there myself.”
John stared at her for a moment, his eyes moving over her face and neck, a slow, sad smile forming on his lips. “Darlin’, you wear your scars proudly. You earned ‘em and anyone who says different doesn’t appreciate the freedom we fought to give them.”
Two other men slid off their bar stools and stepped up as well, thanking her for her service and offering condolences, before turning and walking back to the bar. She smiled a wobbly, watery smile at them, the warmth from earlier now spreading throughout her being.
John’s gaze drifted up to Rafe’s and he gave a short nod. “Y’all enjoy your meal, now.”
Plopping back down into the booth, her legs finally giving out, she found herself scooted over as Rafe sat on the same side as her, his arm still wrapped tightly around her shoulders.
Twisting her neck to look at him, she nodded. “I confess I’m a little shaken, but I’m good, honey. It’s all right.”
“I know, but I’m still going to make sure it stays good.” Bending to place a quick kiss on her lips, he reached over to snatch more nachos.
Warmth flooded her from her heart throughout her body, a smile on her face as she focused on their meal as well.
23
After dinner the next night, Rafe linked his fingers with Eleanor’s and led her from the kitchen into the living room. As he turned to sit down on the sofa, he caught her curious expression. Smiling, he tugged on her hand, allowing her to fall down near him on the comfortable cushions.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her face beautiful with a wide smile.
Suddenly nervous, wondering if he were about to do the right thing—or make a terrible mistake—he rubbed his hand over hers, offering comfort for himself as much as her. With a pointed look at the portrait above the mantle, he said, “Introduce your family to me.”
Eleanor’s gaze shot to the portrait as her eyes widened. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she wheezed, “Introduce…” Clearing her throat, she stared into Rafe’s eyes, seeing longing in their depths. Dropping her gaze to their joined hands, she tried to still her racing thoughts.
“Baby,” he said softly, drawing her attention back to him. “If they were here, you’d invite me over…for dinner. I’d get to meet the wonderful people that made you and the brother that always made you smile…or made you crazy. But the point is, I would have met them.”
She held his gaze and for a moment she was filled with the knowledge that her injury had taken something from her that she had not yet acknowledged—the opportunity for her family to meet Rafe and for him to meet them.
A gasp left her throat and he immediately moved in, his arms encircling her body. “Oh, baby, I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sor—”
“No, no,” she rushed, pulling back just enough to grasp his cheeks, holding him close. Her eyes were teary, but she blinked several times to keep the tears at bay. “You’re right. You would have met them and they would have been so happy to meet you too.”
Rafe said nothing as he held Eleanor, allowing her the chance to gather her thoughts in peace, hoping his body would offer her strength. After another moment, she appeared to have relaxed slightly and he loosened his grip, allowing her to lean back.
She looked up at the portrait for a long time, a smile curving her lips. “My father, who was actually not named Richard—”
“I’m surprised,” he grinned, shaking his head.
Meeting his grin, she said, “I think my grandfather, the third Richard, would have kept it going, but my grandmother put her foot down. So, my father was Jonathan.” Settling deeper into the sofa, she continued, “He was born here, but my grandfather was exceedingly specific about raising his son the way he had been raised…honor God, family, and hard work. And in that order. My father went to the University of Virginia and that was where he met my mother, Alice. Once graduated and married, they moved into Bellamy House as well, and he worked for the family business.”
“What was he like?”
“He was…” she leaned forward, her hand on his leg, her eyes now gaining their sparkle once again, “larger than life to me when I was a little girl. He was a big man, right about six feet tall. He liked to eat, sure, but he swam and played tennis to keep in shape.
“I always wanted a pony but we found out I was allergic to horses, so I was never able to take riding lessons. I remember he would sometimes scoop me up and plop me on his shoulders and jog around. I also remember him getting onto the floor, on all fours, and letting me ride him like a pony.”
She thought some more before saying, “He was funny…could tell a joke at any occasion and had a big, hearty laugh. Just hearing him laugh would always make others around him start laughing. He always had a big hug for me and I especially liked it when he came in to say goodnight. My mom would gently fuss, because she would get me all calm for bed and he’d come in and crack a joke or tickle me and I’d be ready to jump out of bed and play some more.
“I know he was smart and Granddad said it was easy to turn the business over to him. Dad used to say that if I wanted to go into the family business, I could, but that he wanted me to be happy and to major in any career that suited.”
“Did he still feel that way when you studied nursing?”
Nodding slowly, she said, “Yes. He was proud. He told me that I had entered a noble profession and God would bless my choice.” At this, she blinked furiously again. “He used to say that he married the smartest, prettiest woman he had ever met and considered himself to be the luckiest of men.”
“Tell me about your mom,” he encouraged gently.
She held his gaze, a soft, but sad, smile on her lips. “My mother was beautiful. She had some Native American in her heritage and it showed with her long, black hair, dark eyes, and high cheekbones.”
They both looked up at the portrait at the same time, and he recognized the traits she had just described. The same traits Alice Bellamy had passed on to her daughter.
“They were such opposites. My father, large and gregarious. My mother, dainty and quiet. She had such a genteel quality…soft-spoken, kind, with a loving touch.” Smiling, she added, “My dad was the one you could hear coming into a room, but my mother’s quiet nature was the one you obeyed.”
She looked at him, a sweet smile curving her lips. “In my teens, when most of my friends talked about their
parents in not so flattering terms, I adored my mother. She was my best friend and I could tell her anything. She knew when my heart was broken, when I was happy, when I was mad. She could calm me with a gentle touch or even a look.”
Silence coated them in the room for a few minutes, each grappling with what all she had lost.
“I really miss her,” Eleanor said then, her voice barely above a whisper. Rafe’s arms encircled her once more and she relished the feel of human touch—comforting, strength-giving, loving. Closing her eyes, she could almost imagine her mother’s arms around her again. After a moment, she pulled back, staring into his eyes as he bent to place a sweet kiss on her lips.
“That’s enough, baby,” he said, gently. “I don’t want this to be too hard on you.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken of them,” she admitted. “Mr. Thomas and Sally knew them, so I haven’t had to vocalize my memories. But with you, it’s like…well, just like you said…I’m introducing them to you. And, honestly Rafe, it’s good. It feels really good to do this. I’m just so sorry that you could not meet them in life, because they would have so liked you.”
Smiling at this tidbit of information, he squeezed his arms around her. She leaned her head on his shoulder, her eyes drifting back to the portrait over the mantle.
“My brother was younger, of course, and I remember being so excited to hear that I was finally going to have a younger brother. He was so much like my father…I swear, I think he came out talking and laughing. At least, that’s what Mom always said. He was a big teen and would have been a big man. I think he was already about six feet, two inches when he was seventeen. He loved baseball and even though I was already out of college and working when he was in high school, I made it to a few games. He was such a natural athlete. He and my dad loved to play tennis and, while they always tried hard, they weren’t competitive. They just enjoyed sports and spending time together.”
“Would he have gone into the family shipping business?”
“Oh yeah,” she quickly replied. “He was looking forward to it and I know my dad was as well. He’d been accepted to the Business School at UVA, and Dad had big plans.”
She shifted to face him again and with a scrunched brow, said, “You know what’s weird? Even now, I can’t believe they’re really gone. It’s like I just expect them to walk through the door, having been on a long trip, and greet me as they all pile back into the house.” Letting her breath out slowly, she shook her head. “It still doesn’t seem real and yet, my heart is so broken, I know it must be.”
Rafe held her, knowing she had lost the battle of hanging on to her tears, feeling his shirt becoming moist, her breath hitching several times. He rubbed his hand up and down her back, making soothing noises, allowing the emotions to flow from her.
As she calmed, she leaned back again, this time a tremulous smile dancing on her lips. “If they were here, I’d get to tell them all about you.”
Grinning widely, he nuzzled her nose before sliding his lips to hers. “And what would you tell them?”
“That I found a man…strong, hard-working, well read, smart, honest, true. A man so perfect, I could never have dreamed anyone better. And they would be so thrilled for us.”
Her words hit him, taking his breath away while filling his heart.
24
Rolling to the side, Eleanor smiled at the sight of Rafe’s body curled into hers. A week. A week of sweet, good morning kisses before he went to work on the grounds. A week of stolen minutes in the shade of the trellis…or under the Magnolia trees…or in the rose garden. A week of nights spent making love, either at his cottage or up at the manor. A week of neither caring about the outside world, only the world they were creating together.
He stretched and she watched in fascination at the play of muscles as they rippled under his tan skin. Lifting her finger, she traced the intricate tattoos on his arms and side. He snatched her fingers, kissing them one at a time.
She stared, mesmerized, as he continued to kiss each one, not seeming to mind, or even notice, the scars. The heavy weight she had been carrying around for years seemed to slowly dissipate with each kiss.
He looked from her fingertips to her face, her beautiful smile aimed at him. “You sleep okay, sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Perfect. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Will you tell me about your tattoos?”
Chuckling, he said, “Zander and I used to talk about what kind of tattoos we wanted to get when we were old enough.” Hesitating, he added, “I know it’ll sound stupid, but when I was growing up in Miss Ethel’s house, we listened to him read fairy tales all the time. When we decided to get tattoos, we told the artist to design something from the pages of the book we showed him. We both got sleeves and this is what I choose.”
Her finger traced the intricate picture covering his arm muscles. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.
He stared at her, a smile playing about his lips. “What have you got planned for today?”
“Sally is coming today, so I’ll spend time with her. What about you?”
“I’m heading into town this morning. I told Zander that I’d stop by Grimm’s. Also, I’ve ordered some natural fertilizer and something else. I’ll go pick them both up today. Then, after I mow, I’m going to keep working on the terrace.”
Her brow knit as she queried, “What else do you need to do to the terrace?”
Grinning, he planted a kiss on her lips once more before saying, “It’s a surprise.”
Rolling out of bed, he stalked into the bathroom, leaving her watching his delectable ass in retreat, wondering what he was working on.
Rafe walked into Grimm’s, and waved at the servers. Joe, one of the bartenders, jerked his head toward the back and with a chin lift in reply, he headed down the hall toward the office. The door was open so he rapped on the doorframe, smiling as Zander’s head lifted.
The men greeted each other with back slaps before sitting down. “You look happy,” Zander said, his gaze piercing Rafe.
“Feeling happy,” came the simple reply.
“Seems like hard labor agrees with you.”
Rafe barked out a laugh. “You saying my modeling wasn’t hard labor?”
Zander rolled his eyes, then asked, “Have you decided what you’re going to do at the end of the summer?”
He rubbed his chin in thought, sighing heavily. “To be honest…I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to go back to California. That life was getting old before, and now, after spending time with Eleanor, I have no desire to return to that.”
“But…” Zander prodded.
Snorting, a rueful sound, he said, “I’m not sure what I’d do instead.”
“What do you want to do? Really want to do?”
He leaned back, rubbing his hand over his face before lifting his gaze to his friend. “Would you believe me if I told you that I’d like to start my own business?” Seeing Zander’s raised eyebrow, he explained, “My dad owned a lawn care business. Sure, it was small, but I’d like to do the same. I’d hire people to run the office and others to take most of the contract work, but I’d like to be able to do what I’m doing at Bellamy House…reclaiming gardens that have fallen into ruins.”
“So, what’s stopping you, man?”
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Never thought I was the kind of man who was afraid. Now, I sometimes wonder if I haven’t always searched out what was safe.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Safe. You know…I let you fight my battles when we were kids. I joined the military because I couldn’t think of anything else to do. You were doing it, so it just seemed like the thing to do also. I fell into modeling because it was just offered to me, and I never had to really work for it.”
Zander nodded, saying, “Never thought of it that way.”
“But, now, I’m creating on my own. Wor
king on my own. Designing the gardens on my own. I’m using skills that I know my father used, plus all that Miss Ethel taught me. It feels like I’m doing something that I want…not just something that I fell into.”
“And Eleanor?”
A slow smile spread across his face at the thought of her beauty and strength. “What would you say if I told you I’m falling in love with her? She’s beautiful, smart, strong, a fighter. And becoming more important to me every day.”
Zander grinned in return, shaking his head. “I swear it wasn’t that many months ago that you questioned how I could fall in love with Rosalie so fast.”
“I was an idiot!” he exclaimed, falling back in his chair with a huff. “And so glad you didn’t listen to me!”
“So are you going to tell her how you feel?”
Nodding his head, he smiled at his best friend. “Yeah…just as soon as I can.”
The sound of feet running down the hall had both of them swinging their heads toward the door. Rosalie rounded the corner, rushing into the office, her face flushed, blonde ponytail whipping around her head, her hands clutching a newspaper.
“Babe,” Zander called out, jumping up from his chair. “What’s wrong?”
“Rafe!” she cried, breathing heavily, ignoring Zander and rushing straight to him. “This…in the grocery store…you’ve got to see this!”
Surprised, he looked down at the gossip paper from one of the grocery stands. “Huh?” he said, taking the paper from her hands. Reading the headline, he paled, sucking in a deep breath. “Oh, no. Fucking hell, no!”
Eleanor stood from the family room sofa, stretched her back and walked down the hall toward the kitchen. Sally was expected soon and she wanted to make sure she had the coffee ready. Sally might have been the family’s long-time housekeeper, but she was also a friend and Eleanor always made sure to have the coffee on.
Just as she entered the sun-filled kitchen, she heard the front door open. “Sally?” she called out. “I’m in the kitchen.”
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