Redeeming Rafe (6 page)

“And a good thing, too,” Missy said. “If I had to wait on information from anyone else in this family, I might not have known about my new nieces until they graduated from high school.”

“You do know, don’t you, that they’re not so much your nieces as your second cousins?” Rafe nodded to Lucy. “Lucy. Appreciate you coming.”

“Lucy,” Jackson said, “Rafe’s going to be moving into a new room. He might want it spiffed up a little to suit him.”

“Oh?” Lucy looked at Rafe. “I’ll be happy to take a look while I’m here. Have you thought about the changes you’d like to make?”

Quicksand. He’d fallen in face first and was sinking fast.

“I don’t need any decorating done. I’m fine right where I am. Ask Abby. She’s moved in somewhere around here. She might need some new curtains or a bedspread or something.”

Lucy looked confused. “Okay. But why don’t we start with the room we know we’re going to decorate. I need to get some measurements, and I’ll get out of the way. I can see there’s a big project going on in here.” Lucy looked at the assorted crib pieces.

“Big mess going on in here, more like it.” Sammy tightened some screws.

“Did y’all read the directions?” Missy asked.

“We don’t need directions,” Jackson said. “It’s intuitive.”

“I can see that,” Emory said.

“I have to see those precious babies,” Missy said. “Where are they, Rafe?”

His head snapped up. “Uh … I don’t know.”

Missy narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to one side. “You don’t know?”

“Somewhere …” He looked around.

“They’re with Abby in her room,” Emory said. “Across the hall.”

Rafe followed Missy out of the room only because she seemed to expect him to.

“Brace yourself,” he said. “They scream. A lot.”

“All children scream a lot. From my experience, girls more than boys. I thought Beau was loud, but Lulu Bragg can raise any roof put over her.” Missy said. “Get used to it.”

Not likely.
“I don’t know if I can.”

“You should have thought about that.”

“I keep hearing that,” Rafe said.

“Listen.” Missy reached up and cupped his cheek. “All children are a blessing. No matter how they got here. You know you’re my favorite. I’m here for you and those girls.”

Do you want them?
He bit the words back, but it wasn’t a bad idea. Missy and her husband, Harris, were great parents, and they were family. They could keep the babies safe from him.

Jackson would kill him.

“I’ll do my best to instill in them what it takes to be Homecoming queen,” Missy rattled on.

“I don’t think they can both be Homecoming queen, since they’re the same age,” Rafe said idly. And then it hit him. They would still be here when they were seventeen—and twenty, thirty, and after. If he could keep them alive. He steadied himself on the wall and fought the nausea.

“An exception could be made,” Missy said. “I’ll talk to the powers that be about it when the time comes. Besides, even if they don’t win, my training will serve them well. If you want to be Homecoming queen, you have to be nice to everybody.”

Rafe wasn’t sure if she was kidding or not, so he didn’t say anything.

Missy opened the door without knocking. She wasn’t given to knocking; never had been.

Rafe braced himself for bedlam, but walked into perfect, ordered tranquility—and quiet.

Abby’s boy and Bella/Alice One were lying asleep on a blanket on the floor, and Abby sat rocking Bella/Alice Two.

“Oh!” Missy stared down at Bella/Alice One. “She’s beautiful.” She reached for the child, but stopped and looked at Abby. “May I? I know how to pick up a sleeping baby without waking her.”

“Of course.” Abby smiled around Bella/Alice Two’s blond head.

Rafe didn’t want to look at the baby. It was too hard. So he concentrated on Abby, which wasn’t hard at all. She had pulled her hair up into some kind of little twisty thing on top of her head, and she wore a pale pink blouse tucked into gray pants. Classy. Everything about her screamed class. His eyes settled on the pearls that brushed her collarbones and the hollow of her throat.

Lucky pearls.
He tried to shake it off and look away, but he couldn’t. There was something about those lustrous little beads against her milky skin that took his breath away, made him want to run his tongue where the pearls lay and maybe take the necklace off her and tease her with it …

Again, he tried to stop himself, but it was too late. He already had a picture in his mind of circling a rosy pink nipple with a smooth, cool pearl.

This was unlike him. It must be because he was so tired. He never had gotten a nap. There had been too much to do—cribs to order, furniture to move out of the new nursery, Abby’s luggage to carry in.

And now there were pearls to look at. And skin. And if Jackson had his way—which he wouldn’t—he’d have Rafe sleeping in close proximity to that skin—and those pearls.

The pearls were small. What she needed was a long strand that would wrap around her breasts and on down …

Then, out of nowhere, a small pink hand clutched the necklace at the very place Rafe had imagined his tongue. He deflated—in more ways than one.

“No, darling.” Abby’s soft, cooing voice was punctuated with low laughter. “I shouldn’t wear pretty toys if I don’t want them played with, should I?”

No kidding.

Abby gracefully rose from the rocking chair and pulled the little hand away from her necklace.

“Alice, sweetheart. Say hi to your daddy.”

The child gave him a flirtatious little look and said, “Hi.” Then she slipped a thumb in her mouth and smiled around it.

His blood turned to ice, and he backed up a step. “Hello,” he said formally.

Abby frowned at him and held the child out. “Would you like to—”

“No.” He cut her off. “Maybe later.”

“I see.” Who knew such a seemingly sweet person could sound so holier than thou?

“My hands are dirty,” he hastened to add. “I don’t want to mess her up. You’ve got her fixed up real nice.” That was true. Alice was wearing a little blue dress with some matching puffy short pants. No socks or shoes, but it was a warm day.

“Thank you,” Abby said. “Anything would be an improvement over the last time you saw them. Gwen lent me some of Julie’s old baby clothes, but the girls are going to need some new things.”

“Yeah?”

“Unless you want your children to wear polyester animal print pants and shirts with things like ‘My Other Ride is a Unicorn’ spelled out in glitter.”

Rafe laughed. “That’s funny.”

Abby pursed her lips.

“Sorry,” he said. “Sure. Buy whatever they need.”

“Mmm.” How could one little non-word communicate so much disapproval? What did she want? He’d told her to buy what she wanted.

“So, that’s Alice, huh? How can you tell?”

Glacier girl thawed slightly. “See?” Abby turned the child and forced him to look at her again. She stroked her left eyebrow. “Alice has a scar here. It’s mostly hidden in her eyebrow, but it’s there.”

A scar? Yes. She did. A feeling that he didn’t understand went through him, and there was nothing good about it.

“What happened?” he asked. “How did she get it?” She would have bled and cried.

“Well, Rafe, I don’t know, having not been there when the injury occurred. But I suspect she fell—probably into a table edge or onto a toy.” She rubbed the place. “You should have had a little stitch, shouldn’t you, baby?”

“Why do you suppose she didn’t?” Rafe asked. “Get the stitch?”

Abby swung the child to her hip. “Again, I don’t know. Maybe they thought she didn’t need one. Maybe they didn’t have medical insurance.”

“No insurance?” After their parents died, Rafe and his brothers had worked hard helping Aunt Amelia with Around the Bend, and things hadn’t always been easy, but they had never gone without medical care. Rafe covered his face, though he couldn’t cover his shame. “Damn it all to hell!” he blurted out. “They don’t have any insurance now.”

“Rafe.” Abby’s voice came out surprisingly gentle and she laid a hand on his arm. “You can get insurance for them—probably with a five minute phone call. And it isn’t as if she’s disfigured. You have to look for the scar, and it probably won’t be detectable at all when she gets older.”

“Really? I could buy her some plastic surgery.”

Abby laughed. The sound was very easy on the ears. “I don’t think it will come to that.”

“I’d better get back over there.” He pointed with his thumb across the hall. “I’ve got some cribs to put together.”

Abby shifted the baby forward. “Here, Alice. Give your daddy a kiss.”

No! He didn’t want a kiss, didn’t deserve a kiss.

But baby Alice didn’t know that. She smiled, puckered up her little mouth, and leaned toward him. He made himself look at her. Camille, so much like Camille.

He closed his eyes, quickly leaned forward, and brushed his cheek against her lips. Then he bolted across the hall.

Later, after Rafe had written Lucy Kincaid a huge check and walked her and Missy to the car with Missy still dispensing advice over her shoulder, there was still the matter of those damned beds. Would it never end?

“Don’t mix the pieces up again!” Somewhere along the way, Dirk had come into the room and taken over. The three piles of parts were now separated by masking tape, and Dirk stood in front of it all holding the instructions. He looked up when Rafe came in. “Good. There you are. We can get started. That’s your set of parts.” Dirk pointed to the space between Jackson and Sammy. “Don’t touch anything until I tell you to.”

Rafe took his place with pleasure. He was relieved to have someone tell him what to do.

“So, here you are.” Rafe’s mirror image walked through the door of Rafe’s new bedroom. Like Missy, Gabe had probably never knocked on a door in his life.

“Good morning,” Rafe said.

“I got back late last night.” Gabe let himself down in the small wing chair opposite of where Rafe sat on a frilly, too small couch. This was a far cry from the leather recliner and couch big enough for napping in his previous digs.

Gabe unwrapped a plate of sausage biscuits he’d been carrying and held it out to Rafe.

“No thanks. I’ve already eaten.” If you could call the spoonful of oatmeal and cup of coffee he’d consumed earlier eating. Abby had harassed him into coming to breakfast with her and the kids, but watching those little girls feed themselves chunks of banana from their highchair trays, like Camille had done, had taken his appetite away. When Abby had suggested that he feed Bella her oatmeal, he’d bolted.

“Me, too, but it’s hard to turn down Gwen’s biscuits.” He took a bite. “I don’t suppose you’ve got anything to drink in here?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve had a change of venue. No refrigerator. No coffeemaker. No fun.”

Gabe took a bite of his biscuit. “Neyland filled me in on everything.” Rafe had thought Gabe might be upset that Rafe hadn’t called him, but there was no judgment or chastisement in his twin’s demeanor. “I would have come to find you last night, but it was late and …”

“There was Neyland. Congrats on the win. You played a good game. We watched yesterday.”

Gabe nodded. “Is football …” His voice trailed off, but the thought didn’t stop. The rest of the question—
really
what we’re going to talk about?—
radiated from Gabe’s brain straight into Rafe’s. It was a twin thing. They couldn’t read each other’s minds completely, but they could have shorthand conversations, and if the feelings were intense, they could sometimes feel each other’s emotions and physical pain.

“I didn’t know about them until a few days ago,” Rafe said.

Gabe nodded. “I know. I’m surprised I didn’t feel your panic when you found out.”

That was a relief, though not much of a surprise. They were less likely to be linked emotionally when they were concentrating on something important—like a football game that needed winning or a bull that needing riding.

“There was no panic,” Rafe lied. “It is what it is.”

Gabe nodded and looked at the floor like he always did when he knew Rafe was lying but wasn’t going to call him on it. “I wish you wouldn’t say that. I hate that phrase. Of course it is what it is. What else would it be?”

“What it’s not?”

Gabe laughed and looked around. “What this
room
is not, is suited for you. Pink roses on the wall? Miniature chairs? Really?”

Rafe shrugged. “Nothing would do Jackson but for me to move over here closer to …”
those girls.

“Is there not a room on this side that’s not so … so…” He waved his hand around.

“Flowery? Maybe.” But this was the one farthest from Abby and the new nursery.

Gabe nodded. “You didn’t have to move just because Jackson said so. This is your house, too. For all Jackson’s bossiness, he’s always been clear on that. He’s never played the ‘I restored it’ card.”

“It was easier to go ahead and do it. Besides …”

“You’re not going to be here that long,” Gabe finished. “Do they know that?”

Rafe shrugged. “Not really. They think I’ll come and go, but that I’ll be here more.”

Gabe raised his right eyebrow, the same one Rafe could raise. “Are you sure you won’t be?”

“Bulls to ride. Money to win. College to pay for.” And cars, dresses, weddings. No one would ever be able to say he didn’t give them what they needed.

“I’m clearing out of the house pretty soon, too,” Gabe said. “Neyland and I are looking at houses in town. When we find one, I’ll go ahead and move in.”

It was a relief to change the subject. “But she’ll keep living in the carriage house?”

Gabe nodded. “No open cohabitating until we’re married. That’s the way of it when your future father-in-law is your former coach. And I don’t like it one bit.”

“Are you going to kowtow to that man for the rest of your life?”

“That’s the plan,” Gabe said happily.

“Any thoughts on when the wedding will be?”

Gabe grimaced. “Neyland won’t discuss it. Says it wouldn’t be fair to Nickolai and Noel to set a date before their wedding next weekend. But the sooner, the better.”