RafeHeroes at Heart

by Maryann Jordan

  Sally walked in but instead of putting her bag down, she immediately moved straight into Eleanor’s space and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her in for a deep hug. Eleanor patted her back, but wondered about the gesture—it had a desperate feel to it. Before she had a chance to speak, Sally jumped in.

  “Is Rafe here? Is he still here?”

  Opening her mouth then closing it quickly, she tilted her head to the side. “Uh…Rafe?” At Sally’s intent stare, she shook her head. “No, he went into town. Why? Do you need him?”

  Sally’s face twisted into a grimace as she took her by the hand and dragged her to a kitchen chair, gently pushing her down before plopping heavily into the closest one. “Has he talked to you? Told you who he is?”

  A sweet smile crossed her face as she nodded. “I told you we were getting closer, Sally. We’ve shared. I’ve told him all about the family, my time in the Army, my injury…everything. I’ve held nothing back.”

  “But has he talked to you as well?”

  “Yes, of course,” she said, defensively. “He’s told me of his family, being raised by Miss Ethel. Sally, you know all of this…why are you acting so strangely?”

  “Because he hasn’t been honest with you, that’s why!” Sally bit out, her voice filled with pain. She bent to retrieve a newspaper from her satchel, unfolding it to the front page and smoothing it out with her hands before sliding it across the table to her. Tapping the picture on the front, she said, “Here.”

  Eleanor’s stomach dropped with dread as her eyes moved from Sally’s tortured face to the gossip rag on the table. She stared in horror at the close-up picture of her in the rose garden, a smile on her face, her scarred neck, shoulder and arm exposed to the camera’s zoom lens. She was looking up into Rafe’s face, which looked every bit as handsome as she always thought it did. And at the top screamed the headline…Beauty and the Beast.

  Gasping, her fingers involuntarily clenched, wadding the paper under their grip. Forcing them to relax, she read the article.

  International model, Rafe Walker, discovered after appearing in the Hunks of the Army Calendar, is seen with a woman, whose appearance is unlike most of his famous dates. This comes as a surprise, seeing as his most recent relationship with actress Cherelle Parkinson is said to be ready to resume, as the two will soon be working together again. The woman, Eleanor Bellamy, certainly doesn’t look like his usual partners, as he is usually seen in the company of Los Angeles socialites, actresses, and models. It is rumored she lives, secluded, in a Gothic castle in Virginia, far from the eyes of the public. According to Rafe’s agent, the superstar chose to spend his summer performing community service for the shut-in, spreading his appeal from one end of the country to the other. One look at his face and it appears Ms. Bellamy was willing to brave the public. Who knew his sex appeal and beauty had the power to heal the Beast?

  Eleanor stared at the words, for a moment unable to process what she was reading. Her eyes moved back to the picture and the headline. Beauty and the Beast. She was the beast. They were labeling her the beast. Her gaze dropped from the picture of the two of them, showcasing Rafe’s handsome physique, to a series of pictures below the article. In each one, he was paired with a drop-dead gorgeous woman, though most were with the known actress, Cherelle Parkinson. A bevy of women, dressed to kill, all on the arm of the man she thought of as her friend…lover…and she had hoped more.

  “Oh, sweet girl, I’m so sorry,” Sally said, her face filled with regret as her eyes filled with tears, her hands reaching out to clutch Eleanor’s. “I didn’t want to show this to you, but you had to see it. I couldn’t let you go on thinking he’s something he’s not.”

  “But he…we…what he’s told me. You don’t know what we have, Sally. He wouldn’t lie to me…” But he did. It’s right here in black and white.

  Eleanor was no stranger to pain. The pain of her burns. The pain of losing her family. The pain of her scars. But the pain ripping at her heart at that moment was just as devastating. A sob wrenched from her chest, an animalistic growl from deep inside breaking free as she fell into Sally’s arms.

  25

  “I don’t give a fuck! Look it up!”

  Rafe yelled into his phone, taking the curves on the road at a high rate of speed, his truck tires squealing as he rounded each one.

  His attorney’s secretary’s harried voice came back on the phone. “I’ve got Mr. Washburn here.” He heard her relief at being able to turn him over to the man in question.

  “Rafe, I’ve got your contracts and you’re good. You finished your last contractual obligation before you headed to Virginia.”

  “I want his balls on a pike, Carlton. If I was there, I’d rip them off myself and shove them down his throat. I want—”

  “I understand, Rafe,” Carlton assured. “You’re not the only one who is tired of Marty’s shenanigans. This rag’s article is going to blow up in his face. His entire client list will jump ship, seeing how he can fuck up their PR.”

  “You bet your ass it will. And one more thing, get your PI on this. I want to know who the fuck got those pictures. They were trespassing, and I want their balls as well.”

  Disconnecting, he turned the corner into her drive, not slowing until he careened to a stop at the end of the drive. Jumping out, he ran to the front door, twisting the knob, finding it locked. Ringing the doorbell to no avail, he began pounding with his fist against the wood. Nothing. The manor was quiet.

  Darting toward the terrace, he peered through the glass door, seeing the room empty. “Shit!” he cursed, dragging his hand through his hair. He ran back to the front, once more banging his fist against the door.

  This time, he heard the lock click and the door swung open to Sally standing in the slim opening. One look at her face and he knew he was too late. Eleanor must already know.

  Going against his upbringing, he gently pushed past Sally despite her protestations. “I’ve got to see her. I’ve got to explain—”

  “She’s not here.”

  Halfway to the stairs, he whirled around, disbelief pounding through him. “Not here? Where would she go?”

  Arching her brow, Sally retorted, “You think she has no one to turn to at all? She may have chosen to live a private life, but I assure you she is not friendless. The poor waif you think you saved is a strong woman in her own right.”

  Stalking toward her, he towered over the older woman, his gaze hard. “You think I don’t know how strong she is? You think I don’t care? I’d give my life for her, so if you care for her so much, tell me where she is.”

  A flash of uncertainty passed through her eyes, but before he could push his point, she shrugged. “I honestly don’t know where she is. She said she was going somewhere safe. I just finished cleaning and was getting ready to leave. So, if you’ll please go, I can lock up.”

  “Sally, please,” he begged, his voice hoarse, his words ragged. “I need to see her. I need to make sure she’s all right. Please.”

  Her hands twisted together as she held his gaze. “I think I misjudged you and you truly do care, but Rafe, she needs space. She needs time. And I truly don’t know where she went other than she was going somewhere safe. She did send me a text letting me know she had arrived and I’m to lock the house when I leave today.” Looking down, she hesitated before adding, “And she told me to make sure you knew to vacate the cottage. She is terminating your services since they are no longer needed.”

  The verbal punch to his gut was real, doubling him over as he gasped for breath. He felt her hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged her off. Tears stung his eyes as he whispered, “If she calls, tell her I’m sorry. That not everything in that article was true. I would have you tell her that I love her, but that’s for me to say when I see her.” With that, he staggered outside, barely making it to his truck before slumping against the seat.

  Agony turned into anger and he picked up his phone, dialing, not surprised when it picked up on the first ring.
>
  “Rafe, my man. You ready to head back to sunny California?”

  “Marty…you’ve fucked up. Big. You’re fired as my agent and according to my lawyer, you’re gonna be getting a lot of calls like this.”

  “Rafe? Seriously? That article alone is worth a fuck-ton of press. I’ve got calls galore, all wanting to book you. They love the idea of the handsome man spending time with the—”

  “You say it and you’re a dead man, Marty. You’re already dead to me, but swear to God, you say one more thing and you’ll be drinking through a straw and your balls will be somewhere lodged in your throat.”

  “But—”

  Disconnecting, he completed a rough three-point turn and headed back down the driveway. Not having any idea where to go, he made another call.

  “Get everyone together. Your place.”

  Rafe slumped on the sofa at Zander’s apartment, surrounded by Cael, Jaxon, Jayden, Asher, and Zeke. Their faces resembled his—pissed with an undercurrent of scared.

  “Do you think if Miss Ethel talks to the housekeeper, she’ll tell her where Eleanor is?” Asher asked, hope in his voice.

  “I don’t know,” he confessed. “I sure as hell know she’s not going to tell me.”

  “I just don’t get what this Marty guy got out of the article,” Jayden said. “It’s so negative…why the hell would he want you in something so vile?”

  Rafe leaned back against the sofa cushions, anger still coursing through his veins. “It’s how they work. Agents love publicity. Any kind of publicity. Don’t be fooled into thinking that the headlines you see on the grocery store rags are not staged. There’s no such thing as bad publicity, as far as they’re concerned. He was pissed that I was out of the spotlight for the whole summer and finagled a way to get me back in the public eye. The picture of me with Eleanor was a stunt used by him to make the big model look like a hero, being all nice to the unfortunate girl. He didn’t give a fuck about her or how she would feel about it.”

  “The last time my niece was at the hospital, some athletes showed up,” Cael said. “Most looked like they cared, but honest to God, a few only smiled when the camera was on them.”

  Nodding, Rafe said, “Yeah…same fuckin’ thing. What’s crazy is that the fucker actually thought I was going to be happy.”

  “You fire his ass?” Jaxon growled.

  Barking out a snort, he nodded. “And my attorney is working on getting him to lose a bunch of his clients. Hit him where it hurts…although I’d still like to nail his balls to the wall. And I’ve got a PI on retainer that’s gonna find out who took the photographs. I’m gonna nail his ass as well.”

  Looking around the room at his friends, his breath left in a whoosh as he said, “How the hell can I fix this with Eleanor if I can’t talk to her?” His throat threatened to close as he said, “I can’t imagine her anguish right now, having such a horrible article thrown in her face. And I can understand why she’d be pissed at me for not telling her everything, she opened up and I should have too, but a part of me also wonders how she could turn her back on me so easily, not even giving me a chance to explain…Jesus, how can I make this right?”

  The front door of the apartment opened and Rosalie walked in, her eyes darting around the room, settling first on Zander’s, offering a smile to him, before they shifted to Rafe. With a little chin lift, she moved from the group and into the bedroom, giving the men more privacy.

  Standing, Rafe said, “Guys, thank you for dropping everything and coming here.” As he moved toward the door, the others stood as well, offering back slaps along with their goodbyes. As he jogged to his truck, he thought of the one other person who would understand.

  As he pulled up, Rafe saw her outside, near the rose trellises under the kitchen window, her floppy hat perched on her head and her garden gloves covering her hands. With clippers in her hand, she moved around the rose bushes, clipping some of the blooms and placing them in a basket. She lifted her head, watching him as he approached, her face kind with understanding, setting the basket and clippers on the ground.

  As he reached her, she opened her arms wide, embracing him. He towered over her, but her arms were strong, giving off the same feeling of comfort as she had for so many years.

  “Rafe, I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Miss Ethel said.

  He stepped back, sighing audibly, his hands now on his hips. “Did Rosalie tell you?”

  Her lips curved slightly, her head nodding. “But can you tell me what happened?” She bent to retrieve her clippers as he held her basket.

  “We got close, Eleanor and me. We shared about our families…about our time in the military. We spent time together every day and she was even able to spend small amounts of time in the sun with me while I worked. At night, we would eat dinner and then read to each other.” His voice caught in his throat as he admitted, “I fell for her and I could have sworn she felt the same.”

  “And the article?”

  Fighting the urge to curse, something he would never do in front of Miss Ethel, he grimaced, finding the words. “I know my agent was involved. Pissed that I was here and not in California. Pissed that my modeling contract was over and I hadn’t renewed yet. Pissed that he was in the process of setting something up with some actress that was using him to get to me, and I was ignoring them both. I made a stupid mistake in telling him what I was doing this summer and I guess I must have said something that gave him the opportunity to do some digging to see where I was. I never realized he’d try to find me, much less use the information he found out as a publicity stunt.”

  “You hurt because she’s hurt.”

  “Yeah,” he bit out. “She once told me why she lived alone, shunning the outside world. Said it was too painful to be stared at, talked about. Without her safety net of a family, it was just all too hard for her to deal with, so she secluded herself. This has got to be killing her inside…the cruelty makes me sick.”

  Dropping his head, he stared at his feet for a moment, the heavy blanket of guilt weighing on his shoulders. She reached out and touched his arm.

  “You fell for her but didn’t tell her everything there was to know, did you? And that’s what’s really eating at you.”

  He lifted his eyes to hers, swallowing back the bile threatening to choke him. “No…I didn’t. I just wanted to spend time with her getting to know the real me. Not the cold world I was living in California. I didn’t want her to make assumptions about me like so many other people do. I wanted to be me…just Rafe.”

  “But that’s part of you. Part of your past. You can’t just pretend those years did not happen.”

  “It’s part of who I was. Was. Past tense.” His voice like gravel, he bit out the words before his face fell. “I wish she could trust me. After everything we’ve been through…she found out I was a model and judged me for it, just like everyone in California. I see the real her, but she doesn’t see the real me.”

  “Oh, Rafe. She’s hurt. That’s all she can see right now. Give her time and she’ll realize that.”

  “I hope so.” With a self-deprecating laugh, he looked into Miss Ethel’s eyes. “You know what’s really ironic? I had already decided not to go back to California. I am done with modeling. I’ve already talked to Zander about what I wanted to do next with my life.”

  Cocking her head to the side, she peered up at him from under the brim of her hat. “What was that, sweetheart?”

  “I want to start my own lawn care business. Like my dad. Spending time at Bellamy House gave me the push to finally do something that I want to do…love to do. Be my own boss, work outdoors, follow in my father’s footsteps.”

  “And Eleanor?”

  “I wanted her to be part of that…part of my life. But,” his eyes held hers, “I’ve screwed up with her.”

  Placing the last clipped rose in the basket, she took it from his hands, turning to move toward the porch with him in tow. Moving to the steps, she lifted her warm gaze back to his. “Dear boy,
do you remember what I used to always tell you? Whenever one of you would make a mistake, and you did because it is human nature to do so, I would tell you that the true measure of a man was not in the mistakes he made, but in how he handled those mistakes.” Reaching her hand up, she patted his cheek. “And you, sweet Rafe, are a good man.”

  “But I don’t know how to make this better,” he confessed.

  Smiling, she turned to go into the house. At the top of the steps, she looked down in her basket of clipped roses, the scent wafting up, before glancing over her shoulder and holding his eyes. “You’re a good man. You’ll find a way.”

  26

  Miss Ethel watched Rafe drive away before making her way into the house. Walking past the living room, she carried her basket to the kitchen, setting it on the counter. Leaving on her gloves to protect her fingers, she began to trim the thorns.

  Looking over at the table, she said, “Funny, isn’t it? Not many flowers have thorns, but the most famous flower of all is covered with them.”

  Eleanor sat, her eyes on Miss Ethel, knowing there must be wisdom she was trying to impart, but her muddled mind simply could not follow.

  “I can’t remember where I read it…” laughing, she added, “probably on a Facebook page, but I love the saying, ‘A life filled with love must have some thorns, but a life empty of love will have no roses.’ That’s pretty, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said, attempting to take a sip of herbal tea, praying for it to soothe her cried-out sore throat.

  Miss Ethel lay the rose clipping down and walked to the table, settling in a chair next to Eleanor. “Did you hear?” she asked, her head nodding toward the raised window overlooking the rose trellis.

  Seeing her nod, Miss Ethel smiled. “My sweet girl, you’re hurting… and rightfully so. The words were so cruel. But they were not his words.”