Taming Rafe (26 page)

Kitty had looked so good that Rafe felt as if she’d slapped him again. Her hair loose and curly, those hazel eyes wide with surprise, looking every inch a cowgirl in her red boots and fringed vest. It took everything inside him to let her walk away—no, to let Slick pull her away into the hall.

It’s none of my business.

But, oh, how he wanted it to be his business. From the second he saw her, he knew. He’d never truly heal from the hole she’d made in his heart.

Rafe had watched her go, then walked over to the rib table, stared at the offerings, and decided his stomach just might not handle it. He picked up a glass of soda instead.

“Are you Rafe Noble?” The question came from a curvy brunette in a pink fringed vest over a white GetRowdy T-shirt. He recognized stars in her eyes.

“Yep,” he said.

“I thought so!” She looked him over. “They said you were on the injured list.”

He glanced around the room for Kitty. “Do I look injured?” he asked, the old Rafe finding his way through the hurt.

She giggled and shook her head. The band had fired up a new tune. “Wanna dance?” she asked, grinning.

For a second he debated it. But the last time he’d danced, Kitty had been in his arms. . . .

What did he care? Kat had a fiancé. He was free and single, and his fans had obviously forgiven him for his mistakes. Still . . . “No, thanks. I gotta ride tomorrow. I need to save my strength.” He gave her a wink to go with his lame excuse as she made a face and walked away.

But inside, it felt right. He was a new man, and although the world didn’t know it yet, they were about to meet the new Rafe Noble. The one who stayed out of trouble, who treated women with respect, who didn’t embarrass himself or his family. He fully intended for this event to be his “back on the bull” debut—had even talked his agent into another go-round. Maybe he could even earn enough to pay for Manny’s medical costs.

The former Rafe Noble had wanted to impress the world with his smile, his fast living, his charm. But over the last month, he’d found healing—no, acceptance—like he’d never known in the words of his father’s Bible.

He’d met a God who listened when he cried out for mercy, like David, wanting to break free of the sins that sometimes felt as if they’d choke him.
Fight for me, O Lord.

It would help if God could do some fighting for him in Kitty’s heart. He’d probably read too much in the way she lit up just for a second when she saw him. . . .

Music did little to drown the hum of conversation. In the center of the room, one of his cronies rode a mechanical bull while a ring of women clapped. He shook his head, remembering the old days.

But he didn’t want that—not now.

He’d searched the crowd for Kitty, wondering if she’d returned from her powwow in the hall and nearly bumped into a couple in conversation. “Sorry.” Turning, he felt someone bump him, and his drink sloshed out—right on Slick. “Sorry—”

“You shouldn’t have come here.” Bradley pushed Rafe.

Rafe stumbled back. “Hey!”

“Stay away from her.” Bradley kept on coming.

Rafe heard warning sounds in the back of his head. “Calm down. I’m not here to get into a fight.”

“I’m not a
bull rider
, Noble, but I did box on my Harvard team, and I know I could teach you a lesson.”

Rafe hid a smirk. “I’m sure you could—”

Bradley hit him right across the jaw.

Rafe’s head jerked, and it took him a second to realize that Bradley had gotten the drop on him. The drink went flying. Did the man not know he was in a roomful of Rafe’s buddies? Bradley popped Rafe on the chin. Pain exploded across his jaw.

“C’mon!” Rafe put up his fists. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I want to hurt you.” Bradley swung again.

Rafe dodged him and landed a right punch on Bradley’s nose.

The man’s head snapped back.

“That’s enough!” Rafe spat.

Bradley launched himself at Rafe.

Rafe grabbed him, turning. They went down sideways, Rafe rolling to the top. Bradley seized him around the neck, but Rafe landed a punch in his kidneys. He pinned Bradley’s neck to the floor. “What’s your problem?”

“You’re my problem.” Bradley elbowed Rafe in the face.

Rafe’s nose started to gush
.
He bent into Bradley, sent an uppercut to the man’s jaw, and followed it with a left punch just above his kidneys.

Bradley writhed beneath him. He kicked out, trying to catch Rafe across the chest.

Rafe rolled away and sprang to his feet, the agility of watching for hooves in his peripheral vision making him quick. “Get up, you jerk!”

“No!” Kitty appeared between them. She knelt next to her beloved Bradley, wiping his bloody nose with her hands as he got up. She turned to Rafe. “What did you do?”

The world slowed as she came into focus. Rafe stared at her and at his bloodied, sore hands. “Kitty, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

She picked up Bradley’s hat and glared at Rafe. “Of course you didn’t. You never mean to destroy my life, do you? It just happens.” She looked so broken then, blood on her vest, her eyes shiny. “Please stay away from me.”

He stood there, breathing hard and feeling hollow as she pulled Bradley’s arm over her shoulder and led him away.

“You really know how to add life to the party, don’t you?” Nick said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Some comeback.”

“Here,” Piper said, handing him a wad of napkins. She wrinkled her nose as she looked at his eye. “I think you’re going to have a shiner for those cameras tomorrow.”

Just what he needed to convince the world that he wasn’t the same Rafe Noble.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and back to your hotel,” Nick said. “I think your work here is done.”

CHAPTER 19

“I
CAN’T BELIEVE
he punched me!” Bradley sat in Kat’s bathroom, holding a washcloth to his nose, which thankfully hadn’t been broken.

“Just pinch it. . . . No, don’t lean back.” Kat knelt before him, lifting his shirt. “You said he hit your back?”

“Yeah. A couple times. I can’t believe you were with that jerk for two weeks.”

“Twelve days, and he wasn’t like that.” She probed his skin, watching for a wince or broken blood vessels. “I think you’re going to be okay.”

“I want charges filed.”

Kat leaned back into a sitting position. “I don’t need any more negative press for the Breckenridge Foundation.”

Bradley looked at her, and she raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, so . . . maybe you were right. I should just give up.” She felt it all then, his words and how suddenly everything made sense. The reality of it rushed at her, and she put her hands over her mouth. “My mom really didn’t want to be here, did she? Not with me.”

Bradley shook his head. “But you still have your trust fund.”

“I don’t care about the money. I wanted . . . I thought she . . . well, that her noble causes were so great they were worth the sacrifice. That God wanted her to do it. And I felt like He wanted me to do it too.”

Bradley looked at the washcloth. “I don’t know about God, but I’m tired of this thing running your life. Please let your grandfather take over the charity. He’ll run it the way it should be, and I promise that you’ll still be involved.”

Kat drew up her knees, then lowered her head onto them. She was tired. So
very
tired. Of everything. Of watching her hard work turn to a fiasco. Of trying too hard to be and do something that she’d never get right.

“Katherine, Lolly Stuart is here for you.” Angelina appeared in the room holding a bowl of ice and a clean washcloth.

Lolly. She’d left her and Piper and Stefanie in the hallway. “Let her in. Thank you.”

Kat got to her feet. “Will you be okay?”

Bradley nodded, checking his nose in the mirror. “I’m going to get cleaned up, then go back downstairs.”

“Are you sure?”

“I promise not to let Noble jump me. Again. I’ll see you there.” He grabbed her hand as she made to leave, smiled up at her. “Tomorrow night, okay?”

Kat nodded, dredging up a smile. Tomorrow this would all be over.

Lolly stood on Kat’s balcony, staring at Central Park. “This is a view I never thought I’d see,” she said.

“It’s a beautiful evening.” Kat stepped out onto the balcony and sat in a rattan chair, leaning her head back.

Lolly turned. “Headache?”

She nodded. “It’s just stress. After tomorrow, things will be better.” It was smart to turn the charity over to her grandfather. He could probably double their money in a year. Or he’d simply absorb it into the empire of his company. She rubbed her temples.

“Are you sure?” Lolly knelt in front of her. “You don’t look well.”

“I could use a piece of pie.”

“I wish I could give you one.”

Kat closed her eyes, seeing Lolly’s Diner, hearing the laughter, the easy conversation. “Who’s minding the restaurant?”

“Missy Pike. She and her kid sister Libby waitress for me, and Missy has wanted to buy it for years, so we worked out a deal. Kat . . . well, I’m not going back.”

Kat opened her eyes. “Why?”

“I have another offer.”

Something in her tone made Kat sit up and study the way Lolly stood up, so solemn, and began tracing the railing with her finger. “Did John propose?”

Lolly’s face drained of color. “Uh, yeah, he did, about twenty years ago. But I wasn’t ready to say yes, and . . . John left town right about the time you did.”

“Oh. I thought you two . . .”

Lolly shrugged. “It’s too late for us.” Even Kat could tell the smile she produced came from a place of resignation. “I’ve decided to be Lincoln Cash’s personal chef.”

“That’s a pretty big move. Why did you decide—?”

“Because I’m tired of waiting for my happy ending! Because this is the way it’s going to be.”

Kat raised her hands in surrender. “Lincoln is a lucky guy, getting all that pie. I was just saying, I thought you and John had something.”

“Well, we don’t. We have nothing. I thought we did, or maybe I didn’t see it and let it die. But it’s over, and I have to get used to that. If John ever loved me, there’s nothing left now.” Lolly lifted a shoulder. “This is best for everyone.”

“I invited Lincoln to tonight’s event. He’s in town getting ready to promote a new movie. He might stop by later, according to his press agent. He didn’t make it to my last event . . . although Rafe did a great job of totaling that one also.” She pushed the memory of watching him hit Bradley from her mind. Why had she expected anything different?

“Kat, I came here because I have to talk to you about something.” Lolly paused. “You can’t marry Bradley.”

“What?”

“He’s trouble—”

“Stop. Rafe’s the one downstairs beating people up. He’s the troublemaker—”

“Rafe loves you.”

“Rafe loves Rafe. And I can’t compete with him or his profession. I don’t even think I want to.”

“He’s changed. He’s not the same guy—”

“I’m marrying Bradley. Tomorrow. Rafe is out of my life.”

Lolly shook her head.

“What?”

She sighed. “You’re just . . . so much like your mother.”

Suddenly, something inside Kat simply snapped. “I am
not
like my mother. I don’t even look like her. And I’m not beautiful or
smart or fashion savvy. Most of all, I’m not going to make the same bad choice she made.”

“Yes, I think you are.”

Something in the way Lolly said it, her voice low and even shaky, made Kat pause.

“You’re going to marry a man who is going to hurt you.”

“That’s Rafe, not Bradley.”

“No, not break your heart—I mean
hurt
you. Piper thinks that Bradley might be poisoning you—”

“What?”

“Listen to me, Kat. Bradley had a first wife who died.”

“I know all about his first wife. She had a heart attack. He didn’t poison . . .” A chill went through Kat, and her heart thumped hard against her sternum. “Bradley wouldn’t hurt me. Besides, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Bobby Russell didn’t hurt my mother. He loved her.”

“I’m not talking about Bobby.”

Kat wrapped her hands around the arms of her chair. “Who
are
you talking about?”

Lolly didn’t answer. The wind had picked up, a cool breeze for September, curling her blonde hair around her face.

Kat stayed silent, tucking her hands between her knees. The sounds of traffic lifted from the street. As the sun had begun to set, drizzling Central Park in shadow, the city came alive, neon signs lighting up Fifth Avenue all the way down to Times Square.

“I knew your aunt Laura.”

Kat stared at her.

“In fact, I
am
your aunt Laura. I know I said I didn’t know her, that she didn’t live around Phillips. And that’s sort of the truth
because when I moved to Phillips, I changed my name from Laura Russell to Lolly Stuart. I couldn’t have my past following me.”

Headlines flashed through her mind, and Kat saw again the news file. “You didn’t want him—your husband—following you.”

“How did you know?”

“He broke your jaw and killed your child. Piper found the news article. I’m sorry, Lolly. We weren’t trying to invade your privacy. If I’d known, I never would have asked Piper for help. But I was just so desperate to find you. I wanted to hear the story, to know what happened.”

Lolly sank into a chair. “It’s okay. I should have known Piper had found it. She seemed like she knew, anyway.”

“Bradley already told me what happened. I know why my mother didn’t want me.”

“Oh no, Kat, that’s not true.” Lolly reached out to touch her but pulled back. “That’s just not true.”

“No, you’re probably right. Maybe my mother did want me. But she’d had enough pain in her life, so—”

“Listen to me. Felicia loved you the best way she knew how. She didn’t want you growing up poor or getting sick in one of the countries she worked in. Bradley was right—she didn’t have a choice. But not because of why you think.”

“I . . . don’t understand.” Kat stood up, rubbed her forehead.

Lolly took her hand. It was so warm, so firm that Kat found herself sitting back down, caught in the pain in Lolly’s eyes. “You need to know that Felicia and Bobby were deliriously happy. They adored each other, and Felicia never regretted a minute of loving Bobby. No, he wasn’t exactly the man Walter Breckenridge would have chosen for Felicia, but she saw something in Bobby that not
many got close enough to see—a goodness, a desire to be a better man. They started supporting charities while Bobby was riding, because of all the needy kids they saw during their travels. They loved children, Kat. And they adored you. Bobby always said that your smile was his reward for coming home. I remember the day I snapped that picture of the two of you; he’d just purchased those red boots and that cowgirl outfit. Although you probably don’t remember, you adored him back.”

Kat’s eyes began to fill at Lolly’s words. “I thought I did. I have those remnant feelings every time I see that picture.”

Lolly’s voice grew soft. “Your world ended when he died—as did Felicia’s. It was horrible. He got bucked off—not a big deal, but the animal went after him, kicking him in the head. He never wore a helmet, and his hat offered little protection. He went into a coma and never woke up. Felicia kept him on life support as long as the insurance covered it, but that topped out and they were going to move him to a convalescent home, give up on him. Finally, Walter flew in, and he made her a terrible deal. He told her that he would fund Bobby’s medical care . . . if . . .” Lolly licked her lips and blew out a breath. “. . . if she’d let him raise you.”

Kat wasn’t quite sure she was breathing, because everything had turned deadly quiet around her.

“He wanted to raise his granddaughter the way he thought she should be raised—as a Breckenridge, not a Russell. Felicia was distraught and broke and at the end of her rope, so she agreed.”

Kat took a shaky breath.

Lolly seemed to match it. But her gaze never let Kat’s go. “Bobby hung on another five months, and then his heart gave out and he died. Felicia shattered. That’s when she found salvation and
became a Christian. She took her inheritance and the life insurance money and donated it to the Breckenridge Foundation. I think she did it because she couldn’t forgive herself for the choice she’d made—choosing Bobby over you.”

In that moment, Kat wasn’t sure she could forgive her either.

Lolly reached out and this time touched Kat’s knee. “Felicia spent her life making that organization work. The fact is, she loved what she did. She told me that in a way it was like Bobby was there with her. She said that every day she spent with Bobby was a day of grace from God. And she figured she could extend that grace to just one more child, just one more day. But I don’t think she ever recovered from losing Bobby . . . or you.”

“Bradley said they had to hospitalize her.”

Lolly nodded. “Not for long, but yes, right after Bobby died. She was under suicide watch. That’s when Walter filed for your name change.”

“I always thought that I had done something wrong—that she blamed me for my father’s death.”

Lolly touched her face. “No, Kat. She never blamed you. She may have blamed herself over and over, but she loved you.”

“Then why didn’t she fight for me? If I had a daughter, I’d never give her up.”

A fragile pain crossed Lolly’s face. “Kat, the reason your mother didn’t fight your grandfather is because if she did, he would have uncovered the truth.”

“What truth?”

“Felicia wasn’t your biological mother.” Lolly took Kat’s hand. “And Bobby wasn’t your biological father.”

Kat slid her hand out of Lolly’s, her chest tight. She leaned back in her chair, both hands on the arms. “Oh . . . oh . . .”

“You were adopted, only not legally. We had a fake birth certificate drawn up by a lawyer in Phillips who Bobby paid off.”

“Oh . . . I . . .” Kat put a hand to her throat, hoping it didn’t close off. “That baby . . .”

“Yeah.”

“Your baby.”

Lolly nodded.

“It didn’t die, did it?”

Lolly shook her head slowly. Then her face crumpled and broke, and she held her hand again to her mouth, her breath catching. “Oh, Kat, I’m so sorry. I was young and scared of what Randy might do to me—or to you—if he got out of jail. So I pretended the child died and gave her—you—to Bobby. I promised that I’d keep that secret. That I’d never interfere in your life.”

Kat could barely see, what with her eyes burning and the terrible clenching in her chest.

Lolly hiccuped a breath. “That’s why I moved to Phillips. It was after Bobby died, and I needed to be near you, near where Bobby is buried. I pledged that even though I promised not to interfere, I’d still watch over you from afar. Your uncle Richard Breckenridge would occasionally drop morsels about you now and again, never realizing I lapped them up like a starving dog.”