Redeeming Rafe (26 page)

“Seems like you really tied one on.”

Rafe knew that voice. It sounded like his own.
Why, why, why?
Had he not endured enough? It was probably his own damned fault for getting drunk and playing true confessions with Missy.

“How do you feel?” Gabe asked.

“Better than I deserve, though even I don’t deserve to find you in my room.” He rolled over to see Gabe sitting beside the bed, messing with his phone. “What are you doing here?”

“Would you prefer it if Jackson had come?” Gabe laid his phone down.

“I would have preferred it if no one had come.” Rafe sat up against the headboard and pulled the covers higher.

“My, my. Didn’t we get up on the wrong side of the bed? Figuratively speaking, of course, since you aren’t showing any signs of getting up.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be at some team meeting or practice or something?”

Gabe shrugged. “I never miss, so I’m due one. And Missy was pretty adamant.”

“Damn it all to hell! I thought I could trust her not to broadcast my business.” Though he still wasn’t sure what all he’d said, wasn’t sure he’d considered whether he could trust her or not.

“She didn’t tell me much—mostly that you were carrying some pretty heavy burdens and I needed to come tend to you. So here I am.”

“What do you mean by
much
? And be specific.” Unlike Gabe, who always told on himself, Rafe believed in finding out what the other person knew before giving anything away.

“Only that you had asked her to adopt Bella and Alice. That’s all. Although, that’s plenty. People don’t usually go around giving their kids away.”

Oh, that. Right. She had said she would take them in a heartbeat, except he was alive and needed to raise them himself. Which was no help. He remembered babbling about how he would pay for bobcat suits like Beau’s and Lulu’s.

“They’d be better off with Missy and Harris.”

“Really? Are you beating yourself up because Alice fell off that pony? I get that it scared you. Hell, it scared me, and I didn’t know about it until the whole thing was over. But it was an accident and no excuse for abandoning them.”

“I didn’t—” But hadn’t he? Abandoned them? Even if it was for their own good?

Gabe plowed on, “They cried for you last night. They were hysterical when Neyland and I left for the high school game, and it wasn’t any better when we got back.”

The words were like a knife in his gut, though he deserved it. But they were young. They’d forget him, and the sooner the better. According to Fawn, they hadn’t asked about Tawny at all after a day or two.

“Jackson and I weren’t much good,” Gabe went on. “But Emory and Neyland finally got them calmed down.”

Emory and Neyland? “Where was Abby?”

Gabe shook his head. “Gone. Back to Boston.”

Rafe’s lungs filled with ice. Abby gone? To a place where he didn’t know, couldn’t picture her? No matter what he’d said, he’d thought she would stay at Beauford Bend and take care of his girls. Now they’d lost her, too. Was their no end to his transgressions?

“I’ve got to say, brother, I didn’t think anyone could screw things up with a woman as bad I did with Neyland, but at least I didn’t run her clear across the country. What did you do?”

“I did what I should have done a long time ago. Headed back to the circuit.”

“So that’s what you’re doing. What about the stock contracting company? You know Jackson and I have already started on the paperwork.”

He did know that, but he’d forgotten. “Y’all go ahead. Or not. You were just taking pity on me, anyway.”

“Yeah. That’s Jackson and me. Softhearted, candy-assed, easy touches, brimming over with pity—we’re known for it. How about you get out of that bed and stop feeling sorry for yourself?”

“I plan on it—as soon as you leave.” He hesitated. “I’m naked.” Rafe immediately regretted saying that. At best, Gabe would give him hell about his modesty. At worst, he would use it.

“Well, well, well.” With exaggerated slow movements, Gabe made a great show of sinking into the chair and propping his feet on the bed. “That’s an advantage I hadn’t counted on.”

So it was going to be the worst.

“We were in the womb together for nine months—naked,” Gabe went on. “I guess you think you have something I don’t?”

And the best.

“Some of us are a little more circumspect about baring our asses to the world.”

“You might as well start talking. I’ve got until kick-off Monday night.”

“Bullshit. You have to show up before that. You’ll get fired.”

“Not for a first offense. They paid too much money for me. I might get fined, which I can pay because they paid too much money for me. So you can talk to me, or you can lay there without peeing or eating for the next three days.”

“Two and a half,” Rafe said.

“Tell that to your bladder and your belly.”

“You underestimate me. I’ll get up naked in front of you if I have to.”

They looked at each other for a full minute. And all of a sudden the swagger went out of Gabe and pain appeared on his face.

“No, Rafe. I’ve never underestimated you about anything. You underestimate yourself.”

Something about Gabe’s demeanor spilled over to Rafe, and that was a shame. Hurling insults was easier than having a real conversation. But it seemed they were going to have one.

“I know you must not think much of me for leaving my girls, but believe it when I say it’s for the best.”

Gabe shook his head. “I’m not disappointed in you, if that’s what you mean. I know you think you think you have a good reason, and I know how this is hurting you, because this is one of those times I feel it.”

Wasn’t that just dandy?

“But you need to come home,” Gabe went on. “I know what it must have done to you when Alice fell off the horse, but she’s fine. And the chances of it happening again are—”

“Excellent!” Rafe exploded. “Guaranteed. Even if I killed every horse in America, it would be something else, some other tragedy caused by my own cowardly stupidity. Can’t you see, Gabe? I’m not fit to be a father, just like I’m not fit to be a brother.”

Gabe wrinkled his brow. “That’s lunacy, Rafe. You’re a great brother. Jackson and Beau would say the same.”

Rafe took five deep breaths and swallowed twice before speaking.

“Would Camille?”

Gabe’s face went blank, creating a canvas for ten years of grief and pain to settle in. “Maybe her most of all.” His eyes narrowed, but they looked alive, like he were trying to sort something out.

“She’d be wrong. But she can’t say it, can she? Because she’s dead and buried at Beauford Bend.”

Gabe leaned forward. “Rafe. What has this got to do with Alice getting hurt? Or what do you
think
it has to do with that?”

If this had been anyone else, Rafe might have bolted, naked or not. But there was something about the voice of his twin that could move into his soul and make him say things he didn’t want to say.

“I guess I’ll tell you,” Rafe said. “I didn’t think I ever would.”

Gabe nodded.

“See, the reason Alice fell was because she likes me—she lunged for me. And it scared me so bad I didn’t think. I should have never let go of the lead line. I should have gotten the pony away from her. But I didn’t. I dropped it because I was scared. And it nearly got her killed. It’s pure luck that she didn’t get trampled. That’s what I do. I make them like me, and then I let the fear nearly get them killed. I didn’t put out the fire that night because I was scared.”

Gabe shook his head. “No. No. You’ve got it all wrong.”

“I don’t,” Rafe said. “The fire that killed our parents was my fault. And it’s my fault Camille died. You would have caught her if she hadn’t seen me and lunged for me. It threw you off, or else you would have got her. You never missed.”

“Rafe—” Gabe put a hand up.

“Shut up, Gabe. You started this, now hear me out.” Once the words started, they bubbled out like lava from a volcano. He couldn’t have stopped them if he tried. “Don’t try to grant me redemption. There isn’t any. See, I was thrilled that Camille loved me so much. I encouraged it. I slipped her M&M’s all the time. You were the one who was born first, spoke first, and walked first. I hung back and let you speak for both of us. You led. I followed. But, for whatever reason, Camille liked me best, and I wanted to keep it that way. I didn’t want to share. And it killed her.” His voice almost broke. “And I can’t let that happen to my little girls.”

Gabe put his head in his hands. “Oh, Rafe. Damn. I am the worst brother on the planet.”

Rafe shook his head. “No. I—”

“Stop.” Gabe looked up. “I let you finish. Now you let me. I should have told you, but I never thought that you blamed yourself for anything. You’ve dreamed this whole thing up. I ought to know because I dreamed up a version of it, too. You see, I didn’t want to share either—but it was you I didn’t want to share. I was so jealous of you that I thought I let Camille slip through my hands on purpose.”

Rafe gasped, partly at the absurdity of it and partly because Gabe’s pain moved in and joined his own.

“You could never … You loved her.”

Gabe nodded. “I know that now. But I believed it for a long time. There was an autopsy. Aunt Amelia never told us. You know how she thought some subjects weren’t appropriate for children. The truth is neither of us contributed to Camille’s death. Before Mother threw her from that balcony, our sister was already dead of smoke inhalation.”

That couldn’t be true. Rafe closed his eyes and made himself relive it again. His mother calling to Gabe to catch the baby, then Camille sailing over the railing, her eyes wide as she reached for him, throwing Gabe off. That’s what happened. He remembered. Didn’t he? So many times she had lunged from other arms into his. Was it possible that he had incorporated that into an invented a memory and lived with it so long that he thought it was true?

Gabe carried on, “As far as what caused the fire—that’s a whole other story on its own. We still don’t know what caused it, but it wasn’t that campfire. Jackson blamed himself for passing the responsibility of putting the fire out to you and then not checking. But he found out that Dad came down and checked the fire after we were asleep.”

“How?” This couldn’t be true. Could it? “How could Jackson know that?”

“Mom called Aunt Amelia that night, before the fire, while Dad was out checking. And, of all people, Aunt Amelia told that story to Sammy, and Sammy told Jackson. Rafe, you have to believe me. None of us caused that tragedy.”

Rafe had to play the words through his mind three times, before they took root. He didn’t need to ask Gabe if he was sure or wonder if he was lying in the interest of brotherly love. This was one of those times when they were so in tune with each other that there was no need to ask anything.

“What about Beau?” Rafe said. “Does he know any of this?”

“No.” Gabe shook his head. “What would be the point in telling him? He was so young, and he slept through the whole thing.”

Gabe rose, found Rafe’s pants on the floor, and tossed them to him.

“Get dressed. You probably still have a lot to work out, but we’re going home to your children. You can do it there. And you’re going to figure out a way to get your girl back.” And he left the room.

Rafe wasn’t so sure. But he got up and put his clothes on.

Light filtered thorough the stained glass window, creating a mosaic of colors on the floor of Phillip’s nursery. Abby had called Heath and asked him not to sell Gregory’s rose window, and he’d overnighted it that same day. She reached to where it hung by chains in the window and moved it, causing the colors to dance. Phillip laughed and chased them.

“Are you a cat?” She swung Phillip into her arms and kissed his cheek. “Cats chase lights on the floor.”

“Meow!” Phillip said.

“Are you ready for play group, Phillip?” Adele pronounced Phillip’s name Fee-lip. Abby’s mother had found the au pair faster than the speed of lightning—something about a friend’s daughter deciding to send her youngest child to boarding school, after all. But Abby had to admit it was going well. Having arrived on Tuesday, three days after they had all returned from Tennessee, this was only Adele’s fourth day, but Phillip had already picked up a few words of French. “Let’s get your coat on. It’s time to go see your friends.” Adele didn’t take Phillip, but worked him into his coat while Abby still held him.

Phillip looked at Abby expectedly. “Bella? Allie? Daddy?”

And Abby’s gut bottomed out—again. “No. You’re going to see your new friends—Brooks and Katherine and Paul.” She picked up one of the pictures of Gregory she had laminated and handed it to Phillip. “Who is this?”

“Papa.”

“That’s right. He’s in heaven, and he loved you.” She said these words many times a day now. Phillip didn’t understand them, but one day he would, and by then, they wouldn’t be new words. Later, she would tell Phillip little stories about Gregory. It was the right thing to do, as was giving him the laminated pictures of Gregory to play with—but she had not been able to bring herself to teach her son to call another man Daddy
.
Besides it would confuse him.

“Ride Snow Pony?” Phillip said.

“We’re going trick-or-treating tomorrow night,” Abby said brightly.

“I’m a cowboy!”

Uh, yeah. Wasn’t a two-year-old supposed to have a short memory span? Why did he have to remember that? He wasn’t going to be a cowboy. She’d left the outfit Rafe had bought him at Beauford Bend. Phillip would be taking to the Beacon Hill streets in the scarecrow costume Meg had bought him.

“Bye. I love you.” Abby kissed him again and handed him off to Adele.

Now, time to get to work. She almost laughed at herself as she made her way to the library downstairs. Work. Ha. Work was chasing three toddlers all day. Sitting at a desk contemplating the family structure in
Romeo and Juliet
was killing time—at least for her. But after she’d defended her dissertation, her advisor had encouraged her to expand it and attempt publication. She hadn’t, of course. By then, she’d been planning her wedding.