Authors: Alicia Hunter Pace
“For what? Telling the truth?”
Interesting. “Then what are you here for?”
“I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”
She gave him a half nod and stepped aside. Giving the bed a wide berth, Abby walked to the rocking chair in the sitting area. “Have a seat.” She gestured to the club chair.
But instead, he knelt in front of her and took her hands, as he had that day in her apartment when he’d talked her into quitting Mill Time with no notice. She willed her hands not to shake in his. He was probably about to try to talk her into something else, and she was likely going to let him.
“You were right about everything you said.” His big eyes had never looked bluer or sadder. “I’ve been playing everyone, or trying to. Turns out I’m not very good at it.”
“I see.” Abby wanted to bite her tongue. She sounded like her mother.
“I had every intention of serving out the sentence you imposed on me, go ride in the championship, and come back, like I said. Except, I was only going to stay a few days. Then, I was going back on the circuit full tilt. I figured by then, you’d be settled in here, and Emory would be in love with Bella and Alice. And I was never coming back.”
Meaning she’d never see him again. For the best and for the worst all at the same time.
“You’re speaking in the past tense.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I seem to be.”
Relief washed over her. No more bull riding. “Ironic. I was all set to tell you that you were released, that you should just go now. It was never any of my business what kind of parent you are.”
“I thought about leaving tonight without telling anyone.” He looked at the floor. “And I ought to do it. It would be best for Bella and Alice.”
Something in his tone broke her heart and melted it. She pulled one of her hands from his and lifted his chin until their eyes met. “Why would you say that?”
“They’re safer away from me.”
That made no sense. “Do you mean safe in the physical sense?”
“What other kind is there?”
Pieces started clicking into place. “You’re talking about what happened all those years ago, aren’t you? With your parents and sister?”
He nodded.
“I don’t understand. I realize Bella and Alice remind you of Camille and that’s painful for you. Despite my outburst earlier, I’m sympathetic. But I’m not connecting these dots. Why do you think the girls are in physical danger? And from you, of all people?”
He rose, pulled the club chair ottoman closer to Abby, and sat down heavily.
“See, I was afraid that night.” He briefly covered his eyes with his hand, as if he were ashamed, before looking at her again. “I was scared to death. That’s why I didn’t put the campfire fire out.”
Abby nodded. “You told me that. You don’t even know if that campfire caused the house to burn.”
He let out a little mirthless laugh. “I do so know. Just like I know it was my fear that killed Camille and my parents. And ever since then, I have lived my life to prove I’m fearless. And I’ve done pretty good until now. I’m afraid all the time—of the girls, of you, of what might happen, of what might
not
happen. And fear kills. As long as I’m afraid, death is just lying in wait around here.”
If he had not looked so miserable, Abby might have accused him of being melodramatic. But instead, she leaned forward in her chair to close the distance between their faces.
“That’s not rational, Rafe, even if we took out of the equation that you were a child. If fear literally killed, there’d be no one left alive. Everyone is afraid sometimes.”
He shook his head, and a bittersweet smile bloomed on his face. “Not Bella. She’s not afraid of anything, never will be. She’d laugh in the devil’s face if he were after her with a pitchfork. Now Alice is a different story. She might seem to be afraid, but she isn’t, either. She’s just considering, working the angles. She wouldn’t laugh in the devil’s face. She wouldn’t have to, because she’d be so far ahead of him.”
Abby was stunned. He had that new parent glow about him.
“You’ve fallen in love with your daughters.”
He let a hand pass over his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I have. And that’s why I can’t leave. Maybe if I loved them more, I could. And maybe I’ll get to that point. That would be best.”
It was Abby’s turn to kneel in front of him and take his hands. “No, it wouldn’t. They’ve already lost their mother. How can you think it would be better if they lost you, too?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Those little vampires have put a spell on me. I can’t leave them.”
Abby laughed. “Then I guess they’ll have to use their vampire magic to protect themselves from their petrified daddy until he realizes that all parents are afraid.”
He settled his eyes on hers.
“I need more than vampire magic.” He squeezed her hands and half closed his eyes. “I need you.”
And Abby’s world tipped over. What did that mean? Should she hope, fear, or run? Run, probably.
“I could use a response here,” he said.
“I never respond to something I don’t understand.” She shivered with fear of the joy blooming in her heart.
He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not good at this.”
“I take it you’re not talking about my nanny duties.” Better make sure of that right away.
“No. Well, yes. But I have that. I bought it. What I want from you, I can’t buy.”
“You’d better not be talking about sex.”
“I won’t lie …”
“Maybe you should.” As things became clearer, it was hard not to laugh. He really wasn’t good at this.
“I’m not talking about sex, Abby.”
“Then what exactly is it you want, Rafe?”
“Hell if I know. You know, I’ve never had a relationship. Just a bunch of one-night stands with a couple of reruns. Meaningless sex is easy to come by and easy to get used to on the circuit. Ride a bull …”
“Ride a cowgirl?”
He laughed. “Has my Boston girl gone a little crude on me?”
His
Boston girl? That had a sweet sound. “Though ride a buckle bunny would be more accurate. The cowgirls I know barrel race and rope calves.”
“I’m not familiar with the term buckle bunny.”
“Do you really want to talk about the implications of sex in the rodeo world?”
“No,” Abby said. “I’d rather talk about the implications of sex in the world of Abby and Rafe. That is what we’re dancing around here.”
“Yeah. I was pretty popular. But it got old. And then came you. I tried to tell myself it was meaningless with you. But it wasn’t. Not for me. I don’t know what it meant, but it meant something.”
Abby took a deep breath. “It wasn’t meaningless for me either, but it was rudderless.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Explain?”
“It was on a collision course with good sense. We were going nowhere good.”
“Does it have to be that way?”
“I don’t know. I guess that depends on what you’re asking for.”
And if you really aren’t going back on the circuit, like you said.
He spread his hands and smiled. “I guess if we were sixteen, I’d ask you to go steady. Do kids still do that?”
She smiled. No two ways about it, he was adorable. That little quiver in her stomach must mean she liked how this was going.
“I don’t think so. A few years ago, I think they were declaring themselves ‘in a relationship’ on Facebook. They’ve probably moved on to some Instagram or Snapchat emoji.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. Unless you want to talk about social media and its effect on society.”
“No.” He smiled that adorable, charming smile. Yes, she definitely liked where this was going. “I’d rather talk about Abby and her effect on a bull rider.”
And she didn’t like where it was going anymore. Hadn’t he said he wasn’t going back? She quickly played it over in her mind. No. He hadn’t said that at all. He’d said he couldn’t leave his children permanently like he was planning.
She’d misread the whole thing. And her hopeful heart crashed.
What? Abby had been smiling at him, squeezing his hand, and letting her eyes sparkle into his. But all of a sudden, she’d stolen her hand back, and now she was across the room with her back to him, looking out the window. Something told him she wasn’t interested in the scenery.
Oh, hell. What now? This was what all the guys talked about. One minute everything would be going fine, and then you were on a fast train to the fiery pit.
What had he done? One thing for sure, he wasn’t going to ask. He’d heard how that goes. He was just going to try and fix it—fast. He’d had the impression the conversation was going pretty well, and he needed to get it back there.
He followed her to the window and put his hands on her shoulders.
“Look, Abby, I told you I’m not good at this, and I’m not. But I have stumbled into caring about you, and that’s one stumble I’m glad I made. And I’d like to see where that can take us. Can we do that? I think it could be somewhere good.” He turned her toward him and cupped her cheek. Maybe a little teasing, a little funny would help. “Would you be willing to go on Facebook and check the ‘in a relationship’ box? Or figure out some of that other, whatever you said?” She looked so sad, but there was a little hope trying to peep out . “Or if you want to go steady, I’ve got a mighty fine belt buckle I could give you.”
Oops, gone again. Back to the chair. Okay. His better judgment told him not to do it, but he couldn’t think of what else.
“What did I do?”
She was rocking now, rocking in the rocking chair. Fast.
“It not what you did, Rafe. It’s what you
do.”
“Tell me, and I’ll stop.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think you’ll tell me, or you don’t think I’ll stop?”
“Neither. I
know
you won’t stop. I thought, earlier in this conversation, that you meant to quit, but I misunderstood.”
What did she want? “I might. I’m reasonably sure I’d try really hard. But I can’t if I don’t know what it is.”
“Rafe, you ride bulls. And on top of that, in your spare time, you and Gabe skydive, swim with sharks, and climb icy mountains.”
“None of that’s news.”
“You have a death wish.”
“I do not. If I did, I’d be dead.” Did she have a point? “I might have a ‘Death, I don’t give a damn’ wish. I could see that.”
She drew her hands into fists, squinted her eyes closed, and made a frustrated sound.
“Listen to yourself. I’ve been down that road. My husband was predictable, boring even. Then one day, he decided he wanted to take a ride on the free spirit merry-go-round. And with you, it’s not even a merry-go-round. It’s a Ferris wheel. No! It’s a roller coaster, the biggest, highest, fastest, meanest roller coaster on the planet. I asked him not to go in that cave. I
begged
him. I knew he didn’t know what he was doing.”
“But I do know what I’m doing.”
“It doesn’t matter. It was foolhardy of Gregory, and it’s foolhardy of you. And sooner or later, it’ll catch up with you. Gregory had a wife and a child on the way. You have two wonderful girls, not to mention everyone else who loves you. What Gregory did was pointless, just like what you insist on doing is a pointless risk. And a waste. I can’t be part of that.”
His heart was pounding. “What if,” he said slowly, “I promised not to skydive and the rest of it. Would you give us a chance?” He couldn’t get Gabe to go anymore, anyway.
“Would ‘the rest of it’ include bull riding?”
“No. Not that. That’s my job.” Surely she could understand that.
“Then it’s not good enough.” No. Didn’t understand at all.
He hesitated. “It is a risk, but it’s not pointless. That’s how I earn a living, Abby.”
“I understand. But I can’t be involved.” She looked at the floor.
“More people die every year from falling down stairs than from bull riding.”
“You’re making that up,” Abby said.
“I am not. Somebody told me that. It was on the Internet.”
“Then it’s got to be true.”
“Abby, a man has to work. I’ve done all right, and I’ve been careful with my money. But I’m not Jackson Beauford rich or even Gabe Beauford rich. And now I have Bella and Alice to think of. Anyway, even if I were sure I had enough for us to live on the rest of our lives, I wouldn’t want my girls to think it was acceptable for a person to not work. That’s no example.”
She smiled, and he thought he might be winning until she spoke. “And they
would
think that.” Her tone was all soft and sweet. “They would think it because they will adore you and think you can do no wrong. And you won’t do much wrong, because you love them and your instincts are good. You’ll do fine without me.”
Without me.
Nothing good about that. He didn’t want to go to the mailbox without her.
“What you’re asking is unfair.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not really asking you to give up bull riding. I’m only telling you what I can’t do. And, Rafe,
I can’t.
I really can’t. If I could stand it, I would.”
“I’m not sure I believe that.”
She stood up. “No?” She had a shaky mad look about her, and every word she spoke was wrought with more emotion than the last. “Have you ever gone to bed at night thinking about someone and woke up with the same thought on your mind? Have you ever picked up an object and held it just because that person held it last? Have you wanted to drink and eat after them and wrap yourself in the towel they used, just so you could occupy the same space in the same way they did?”
Yes, he had. And it sickened him to hear that the feelings he had for her were the same she had felt for another man, even if that other man had been her husband.
“I have,” she said. “But it wasn’t for Gregory.”
All the breath left Rafe’s body. He took a step toward her. “Do you mean it?”
She took a step back. “Don’t touch me, Rafe. If you do, I’ll tell you what you want to hear, and that won’t be good for anyone.” She closed her eyes for a few seconds, and when she spoke again, she was more collected. “You must understand. I loved Gregory. I never knew life without him. He was good and kind. It was completely out of character for him to be reckless and ignore something I asked of him. If he had come back from that cave without incident, we might have argued about it, but we would have settled it and forgotten about it. I would have been content with him the rest of my life. There’s a lot to be said for content. But it wasn’t a grand passion. It wasn’t fire and ice and longing and thinking you’ll die if you can’t be together. Not like—”