Redeeming Rafe (25 page)

You’d think all that would have crossed his mind, especially since he’d been secretly keeping up with the competition—secretly because he hadn’t wanted to make Abby think he was pining for the rodeo and upset her. And wasn’t that king of all irony?

But, deep down, he knew why he hadn’t remembered. All that had been on his mind was getting past that nursery door without going in. And it was hard, so hard. He’d wanted so much to go in and look at them one more time. But he’d been through this before—the trying to leave and failing because their sweet little feet, round arms, and soft cheeks called to him. And he knew if he went into where they were napping, he’d have to touch them, and if he touched them, he’d stay.

And he couldn’t stay. He could have no association with them. He’d even showered to wash Alice’s baby smell off him in case it made him weak and caused him to go back.

But he’d made it out the door, and he wouldn’t go back, though he still had no place to go. Next week, he’d find a bull to get between his legs, even if the prize was only a cheap belt buckle and a handshake.

That might get his mind off Abby. Or it might drive home that he was breaking his promise to her. Either way, it didn’t matter.

Who was he to think he could have her? Or to tell her how she had to feel about her dead husband? Granted, she needed to get past her anger, but it was none of his business. It wasn’t as if he had offered her any help. What was it he’d said?
“I can’t pretend I know how you can make peace with this … I didn’t say I wouldn’t try to help you.”

Can’t pretend I know? Try?
What brand of pussy thinking was that? Trying wasn’t worth a shit. Finding a way and taking action was what counted. Not knowing how to go about something had never stopped his brothers—especially where their women were concerned. When Jackson had found out Emory had been date raped, he had moved heaven and earth to get the asshole put in jail—and had dared the devil himself to get in the way.

And when Neyland had been on the verge of giving up her dream of being a jewelry artist, Gabe had bullied his way in and taken charge. Granted, hiring actors to buy her jewelry behind her back might not have been the smartest thing in the world, but at least he’d done something other than wring his hands and talk about
not knowing
and
trying.

God, he was sick of himself. He’d never had his brothers’ talent for being caretakers, not to mention what they could do professionally. Jackson Beauford could bend twenty thousand people to his will just by opening his mouth and laying his fingers on the strings of a guitar, and Gabe Beauford might be one of the greatest athletes of this era.

But Rafe Beauford? All he’d ever been able to do was hold on and ride it out. That wasn’t a talent by anybody’s standards. But even if it had been, he couldn’t hold on to Abby or his children.

But those were problems of the past—problems he’d finally solved for everybody after finally stepping up and getting away from them. The immediate problem was what now? It would probably be a good idea to call Kevin, unfire him, and let his former agent drive the train on this. Kevin had never liked it when Rafe did stuff without consulting him. He also needed to figure out how to unretire. Shouldn’t be too hard. Jackson had done it. Maybe he’d head to Fort Worth, where Kevin lived. He’d be in Vegas now, but Rafe could lie up in some posh hotel, order room service, watch the championships, and wait on Kevin to get back. Then he’d see what they could scare up and how soon. The clock was ticking. He had Abby’s salary to pay—if she stayed—or some other nanny if she didn’t, not to mention little shoes, and hair bows, and the like.

He felt better now. There was a plan. And he would continue to feel better as long as he could keep from thinking about little arms reaching for him and a classy Boston girl with pearls around her neck and him on her mind.

That shouldn’t be too hard.

Just then, Rafe came to the exit that would take him west, but he went south instead. It didn’t make sense to go this way to Fort Worth, but he didn’t have to make sense.

He wanted to see Missy.

• • •

“Please don’t do this.” Tears ran down Emory’s cheeks as she drove through the streets of Nashville. It wasn’t the first time she’d said it in the last several hours.

“You of all people ought to understand why I have to,” Abby said. When Emory thought all was lost between her and Jackson, she’d gone back to New York. The difference was, it really was over with Abby and Rafe.

“I do understand,” Emory said. “But everything worked out for us in the end. Please, Abby. Go back home with me, at least for a few weeks. He’s not been gone even half a day. He could come home any minute. He might be there now. He was upset.”

But he wasn’t coming back, and even if he did, she couldn’t trust him to stay.

“That’s right, Emory,” Abby said. “He was upset. I cannot live a life with a man who is so unpredictable that he is likely to run away from the kids and me every time he gets upset. And I certainly cannot continue to work for him. This is best.”

She would have helped him if she could, would have done anything for the chance. But you couldn’t help the lost and the gone. She had to help herself now.

“I wish we had some idea where he’s gone.” Emory pulled in front of the Hermitage.

Abby wished that, too, but neither one of them wished it as much as Jackson. He was a man possessed.

“I suggest looking on the back of a bull.”

The porter approached and opened the passenger door.

“I’m being dropped off,” Abby said. “If you’ll just get my bag from the back.”

Emory popped the back of the SUV and began to cry anew.

“I’m sorry.” She wiped her face. “It’s the hormones—or partially that. I’m just so sad to lose you.”

Abby leaned over and embraced Emory. “You haven’t lost me. I’ll be in touch.”

“I’ll send the rest of your things if it comes to that.”

Emory wasn’t one to let go of hope easily. Abby just smiled and walked toward the open door that the porter held for her. Wispy, transparent creatures didn’t hope, and she became more ghost-like with every step.

Inside, she tipped the porter. “Just leave my bag here with me for the moment, please.” The lobby was an opulent, sumptuous room, alive with texture and rich color. On a different day, she might have enjoyed it, but all of those different days were in the past.

She took out her cell phone and dialed.

“Abby?” Her father picked up on the first ring.

“I’m downstairs in the lobby.”

There was a beat of silence. “Please tell me you aren’t here to take Phillip. Your mother … Not to mention Meg—”

“No,” she hurried to interrupt him. “I’m here to let you take me back to Boston. Will you get Phillip and me a plane ticket? And get yours changed to an earlier flight? For tonight, if possible?”

This time there were two beats of silence. “I’ll be right down,” he said.

Main Street, Merritt, Alabama looked like the location of a happily-ever-after movie, set in the fall. There were pumpkins, hay bales, scarecrows, and gourds everywhere—though, oddly, there was also some blue Merritt High football paraphernalia mixed in. Except for the football stuff, Emory had pretty much that same look going on at Beauford Bend.

Since they wouldn’t have dared disturb Emory’s decorations, which would be in place until Thanksgiving, Rafe and Abby had planned to take the kids to a farm tomorrow so the kids could pick pumpkins for their jack-o’-lanterns—or Uncle Jack-os, as they called them. There was also supposed to be a corn maze, hayrides, games, and apple cider. Good thing he wasn’t going. He probably would have caused the kids to fall off the hay wagon or choke to death on cider.

Maybe Abby would take them anyway. If not, he was pretty sure they would still get jack-o’-lanterns. Probably. Maybe he’d call Jackson next week and ask him to make sure. He was going to have to talk to his brothers sooner or later.

Missy’s front porch was all decked out for fall and football, too—pumpkins and the rest of it, with a Roll Tide wreath on the door.

Rafe was about to ring the bell, when the door opened and the whole Bragg clan appeared. At first, he thought they must have seen his truck pull up and had come to greet him, but then he realized they were on their way out.

“Rafe!” Harris Bragg shifted Lulu in his arms and stuck out his hand to shake Rafe’s. He sounded happy to see Rafe, but he would. He was a good man and a good father who didn’t play fast and loose with his kids.

Tall, blond, and athletic, Harris and Missy looked like the models for a living right ad campaign. At one time he’d thought Beau and Lulu were the cutest kids he’d ever seen, but that was
before.

His throat closed, and he commanded himself not to think about Bella and Alice. It was the only way. Instead, he concentrated on what the Braggs were wearing. If they were going to the same event, someone was going to be very out of place. Harris was dressed casually in jeans and a leather jacket. The kids were wearing some kind of wildcat costumes, so maybe there was a Halloween carnival. If that were the case, Missy must be the queen of it, because she was dressed to the nines in a fancy bright blue dress and sparkly high heel shoes. And to top it all over, she was wearing a crown.

“It
is
Rafe, isn’t it? Not Gabe in Rafe’s truck?” Harris glanced at the driveway.

“That’s right.” Rafe reached out to touch Lulu’s cheek, but changed his mind. Better not anoint her with Bad Rafe Mojo. “I can see y’all are going somewhere.”

Missy hadn’t said a word. Highly unusual. She was a hugger and a talker, and it wasn’t like her to waste any time getting on with both. But, now, she just stood there with her head cocked to the side and frown playing with her face.

“You’re just in time,” Harris said. “We’re headed to the game. Come with us.”

Damn. It was high school football night, and this was Homecoming. It was coming back to him now. The last time he’d talked to Missy, she had rattled on about how, as a former Merritt High Homecoming queen, she was going to crown the new queen tonight. Some former queens never got to do it, but this was her second time. And what’s more, once a queen, always a queen and she planned on wearing the crown right up until it was time to pluck it off her own head to put it on the new one. No one had told her she couldn’t do it, and she didn’t plan to seek permission.

And the kids must be dressed as bobcats for Merritt’s mascot. Under different circumstances, this might have been fun—those circumstances being with his own wife and own kids.

But there was no way that could ever happen, and there was no way he was going to this ballgame.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was passing through and stopped to say hello. I should have called. But I’ll catch you next time. I’ll let you go.” He took a step back.

“Wait.” Missy finally spoke. “Not me. I’m not going anywhere. Come in this house.”

What? “No, Missy,” Rafe said. “You told me … Homecoming. The crowning. You’re looking forward to it.”

“Not anymore,” she said cheerfully. “Now I’m looking forward to you.” She snatched the crown off her head and held it out to Harris. “Here. Find Treva Joy Millbrooks. She’s home from Auburn for the weekend. She’ll be the youngest who has ever gotten to do it.”

After Harris had taken the kids off to the car, Rafe blurted, “You handed something you consider an honor off to someone from Auburn?” Missy hated the University of Alabama’s archrival with the passion of a hungry ant in a honey pot.

“Oh, baby, I wouldn’t have if I could have thought of any other former queen who I knew for sure was in town. I hate the living daylights out of them as much as ever. But I love you more than I hate them.” And she held her arms out. “Come to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

• • •

Four hours later, Rafe still sat on the sofa across from where Missy sat in a club chair—though he wasn’t so much sitting as lying. Missy still wore her fancy dress, but she’d taken her shoes off and tucked her feet under her. Harris had come home long ago and taken the kids up to bed.

Staying this long hadn’t been the plan, and he certainly hadn’t intended to spill his guts to Missy. Though, truth be told, he wasn’t exactly sure what all he had told her. He only knew there was a bottle of Wild Turkey 101 on the coffee table, and he had lost count of how many times Missy had refilled his heavy, crystal glass. He suspected she was still nursing her first drink. Uncharacteristically, she had done a lot of nodding and hadn’t offered much commentary on to his confessions.

“I meant to have put some road behind me by now.” Rafe took another sip of his drink and sunk a little lower on the couch. “I guess I was feeling like Max—you know, in that kids’ book? The one with the monsters?”

“
Where the Wild Things Are
?”

“Yeah. That’s the one. I wanted to be where somebody loved me best.”

“I do love you.” She brought her glass to her lips, but she didn’t have him fooled. He wasn’t that drunk. She wasn’t drinking, at least not much. “But I’m not sure I love you best. There are some people at Beauford Bend who love you an awful lot. Sounds like Abby, in particular, loves you best.”

He didn’t want to talk about Abby, wasn’t going to do it. He’d change the subject to Missy. That always worked with her.

“I made you miss the crowning.”

“There’s always next year. I run this town. I can crown any time it suits me.”

“Come with me, Missy. You could be rodeo queen in every city. I can see to it. I am a very big dog in that world because I can hold on. Holding on is my best and only talent. Run away to the rodeo with me.”

“Okay. But you do know we’re not going tonight, don’t you?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I’m drunk. I know it. But I’m not so drunk I think I’m Batman. That’s still a drink or two away. Right now I’m still the sidekick.”

She laughed. “I guess I’d better cut you off then.” She stood up and held her hand out. “Come on, Robin. Let’s find you a bed.”

He stumbled after her.

• • •

When Rafe woke the next morning, the room was flooded with sunlight. He reached for his cell phone. 11:20. Though the details of last night were vague, the events of the last twenty-four hours came rushing back. He groaned.