Taming Rafe (31 page)

Kitty was right there, helping him down to the sports doctor; persuading the doc to tape him up, snap his brace back on, and
sign off on his next ride; getting Rafe back down to the chutes; and kissing him hard before he climbed onto PeeWee, the killer bull.

She gave him a thumbs-up as he lowered himself onto the animal and smiled as he let the fear flush out, replacing it with a useful determination. He saw her fight face as he centered himself, wound the bull rope around PeeWee’s chest, tightened it, smacked his grip and his vest, then gripped the rail.

Rafe didn’t look at her then, but he knew she stood there, believing in him as he nodded to the gate men for the bull to take him on his ride.

Mary sat a long time in the pool of moonlight at Charlie’s grave, smelling the prairie grasses, listening to the breeze, feeling it cool on her skin. Finally she rose and headed back to the house. Her house.

She let herself in the back door, and in the silence, just before she closed it, she heard footsteps on the back porch.

Mary jumped and grabbed the .22 she kept by the door. “Who’s out there?” She stuck the gun out, muzzle first. “I’m not afraid to use this!”

“Don’t shoot!” The voice came from the darkness.

“Show yourself.” She flicked on the outside back light, but the trespasser moved away. “I don’t want to shoot you.”

“I don’t want to be shot.”

“Then leave now.”

The man stepped into the light. “I’m not leaving.”

Time and probably life had thinned him, scraped the youthful edge off his handsome face, drained the dreams from his eyes. But the compassion remained. That same compassion she’d seen the day Matthias brought her home. He wore a pair of wool pants and clutched his cap in his hand as he took a step forward. “Hello, Mary.”

Mary separated her disbelief from the other emotions that stole her breath. “Jonas?”

“I know I have no right to come back like this. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” He looked over his shoulder, toward the path she’d taken from Charlie’s grave. “I was just making sure you made it home.”

She opened her mouth, trying to comprehend his words. “You . . . saw me?”

“I . . . I’ve been around for a while. Just making sure you were all right.” He gestured to the gun. “I guess you were.”

She glanced at the gun and put it down. “You’ve been around
for a while
?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Since you married—or almost married—Erland.”

“That was years ago! Why didn’t you—?”

“You never wrote.” He tried a smile but failed. “I assumed . . .”

“That I didn’t want you.” She stared at his work-worn boots, the way he crunched his hat. “I should have written.”

He shifted his weight, saying nothing. Then, finally, he put his hat on. “I’ll be on my way. I’m just glad to see you.”

He turned to leave, and in that moment, Mary felt the last remnants of the woman she’d been—the one who’d let life have its way with her, who’d been a victim—die.

“Jonas . . . wait.”

He stopped.

She walked off the porch. “I still believe, Jonas. I will always believe.”

He turned, and she saw him smile. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come back.”

“You’re right on time,” she said, reaching out for him.

He stared at her outstretched hand and gently took it. “I’m not leaving,” he said. “I promise.”

Jonas pulled her to himself and put his arm around her waist, and just as she’d always imagined it, he tenderly, sweetly, kissed her.

For all you’re worth, I’ll stand here for a lifetime,

For all you’re worth, I’ll sacrifice it all,

You can know that you’re my treasure,

I’ll show you how to measure,

You can look into my eyes for all you’re worth.

Lolly heard the soft singing and struggled to open her eyes. Something seemed . . . She wasn’t in her hotel room. She heard machines, and she ached so much that she groaned.

“Shh, Lolly, you’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

She blinked to clear her vision, and then she saw him. Reddened eyes, hair a mess, as if he hadn’t slept in three days.

John.

He tried a smile, but his face, his voice broke. “Oh, Lolly, you really scared me.” He set down the book he’d been reading aloud to her.

“What happened? I remember a man—oh!” The images came back, and Lolly moaned.

John put her hand to his mouth, kissed the back of it. “You’re safe, honey. You have a couple of broken ribs, but you’re going to be okay.” He reached out to touch her, then pulled back. “I can’t believe I left you. I should have taken you with me—”

“I should have told you. I’m so sorry.” Her voice came out parched, barely above a whisper. “I know everything now. I know.”

He leaned over, pressing his lips to her forehead. “I love you, Lolly. I have for years and years.”

Lolly saw it then, everything that Mary had seen. The love that had healed her. Freed her.

The love that she had waited for.

“I know, John. And I loved you back.”

He smiled. “I know that too.”

She closed her eyes, feeling so very tired. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

John kissed her sweetly on her cheek. She felt the brush of his whiskers, and a quietness swept through her. “I’m not leaving. I promise.”

CHAPTER 22

R
AFE FELT LIKE
a million bucks. Or at least five hundred thousand. As he sat on the platform and received the largest check of his life—four feet by eight feet—he knew the fear that had embedded his life no longer ruled the kind of man he chose to be.

He raised a giant silver buckle trophy—the gold would come later, maybe at the championships—above his head and dangled the keys to his brand-new black F-150 pickup. He scanned the audience for Kitty, knowing she should be up on the platform with him. But in the commotion after his ride—netting him the combined points that put him on top of the scoreboard—he’d been hustled away by the GetRowdy crew for an interview and the closing ceremony.

She had probably rejoined his family.

His family. Who had been here to watch him
win
. He turned, waving to them somewhere in the massive crowd, unable to see because of the fireworks.
This is for you, Mom.

The music continued as he finished waving and left the stage. Every step he took was a little explosion of pain. But he grinned
through it, even when he got backstage. Then he let himself lean on a bull rider from Oklahoma and hopped toward the sports doctor.

Doc Wilson wasn’t happy as he unwrapped Rafe’s knee. Rafe leaned back on the table, accepting the shot of painkiller, breathing through the residual pain as the doc wrapped his knee in a padded brace. “I think you need to take a trip to the hospital,” he said, motioning to the EMTs.

Rafe sat up, woozy suddenly from the head rush of the medicine. “Right after I see my . . .” What? Fans? Maybe a long time ago. “. . . girlfriend,” he said, trying on the label for size.

The doc patted his leg. “Don’t wait too long.”

An EMT handed Rafe a pair of crutches.

Rafe hopped down from the table, grabbed the crutches, and moseyed out into the hall.

Nick, Stefanie, Manny, and Lucia burst into a round of cheers.

“Uncle Rafe, you were so cool!” Manny said.

Lucia came up and kissed him gently on the cheek. “Manuel would be proud of you.” She wiped her lipstick off his cheek, then a tear from her chin.

Nick smiled at Rafe and nodded.

“Where’s Kitty?” Rafe asked as Stefanie hugged him.

She let him go, gave him a blank look.

“She didn’t come to sit with you?”

“We haven’t seen her since she left to . . . uh, check on you.” Nick raised an eyebrow in silent question.

“She found me. And I expected to see her after my ride.”

Nick’s expression darkened just as his cell phone rang. He flipped it open. “Hello?” He glanced at Rafe. “It’s Piper,” he mouthed.

Stefanie rubbed her arms, looking pensive.

“What aren’t you guys telling me?” Rafe hobbled closer.

“What? You’re kidding.” Nick’s tone didn’t sound at all amused. “We’ll be right there. Do they know who—? . . . I know what
you
think, honey, but do they have proof? . . . At least John is there, but . . . You did? What did she say?”

Nick looked at Rafe again. “Really? . . . All right, we’ll be there as soon as we can. Call me if something changes.”

“What’s wrong?” Stefanie asked before he even closed the phone.

Nick’s eyes found Rafe’s. “Lolly’s in the hospital. She’s been beaten up. And according to Kat’s housekeeper, Kat left . . . on vacation with Bradley.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened. “I don’t think so.”

“Maybe—”

“Stef, Kitty loves me and I love her. Believe me when I tell you wild horses couldn’t make her run off with . . . Slick.”

A hesitation from Nick said that he thought Rafe might be a little on the desperate side.

Yep, because even if she
had
left with Bradley—which he didn’t believe for a second—this time Rafe wasn’t going to let her go without a fight. “She doesn’t love him,” he said. “She loves
me
.”

Stefanie turned to Nick. “Rafe’s right. She loves him. Something’s not right here.”

Nick tossed Stefanie the keys. “Take Lucia and Manny back to the hotel; see if anyone has seen Kat. Rafe and I will ask around here. Someone had to see something. Let’s see what security comes up with.”

Rafe followed him, half running, half hopping, absorbing the pain in a one-eyed wince.

Nick found a door marked Security and began to bang on it.

“What if Bradley
did
something to her?” Rafe could barely make himself say it, but nothing else made sense. He turned and added his own fist to Nick’s pounding.

The door opened to an angry security guard. “Can I help you?”

Nick explained the situation, but it wasn’t until Rafe stepped up and reminded him that he’d just stayed on a killer bull and he’d be willing to go round two that the guard let them in. Or the guard simply saw the panic in his eyes.

Rafe could barely stand still as they rolled back the tapes of the last hour, then hit Play. People moved in lightning speed, black-and-white figures that seemed somehow ghostly.

“There. That’s her.” Rafe spotted Kat standing in the corridor, hands clasped as she watched him ride. Yeah, that was her, jumping up and down, cheering, fists pumping.

Then she stopped and turned as a figure came toward her. He looked like a regular cowboy, with a wide-brimmed hat, boots, but something . . . Rafe saw him grab her hand, yank her through the crowd and out of view.

“Did that look like she wanted to go with him?” Nick asked.

“I’m going to kill him, whoever he is.”

“Look at the time stamp. Do you have access to any other entrance tapes?”

The security guard brought up images of the four lower entrances on the closest side of the building.

Rafe peered over Nick’s shoulder, his anger alive inside him.

Fifteen minutes passed on the screen.

“She vanished,” the guard said.

“What did he do to her—there, see him?” Rafe pointed to the
cowboy, who turned as he opened the back exit door and looked straight at the camera he obviously didn’t realize was there.

Everything inside Rafe seized up as he watched Kat stumble out with Bradley. Her gait, her acquiescence looked odd. Bradley stopped in front of a limousine and shoved her inside. The driver shut their door and climbed in the front. The limo drove away into Manhattan’s bright lights.

“Where are they going?” Rafe’s voice sounded just on the edge of fraying.

It didn’t help when Nick gave him a matching expression. “Piper had this . . . theory that Bradley was trying to—” he put a hand on Rafe’s shoulder—“kill her.”

“What?” Rafe pushed his hand away. “No one told me. Why?”

“Piper thinks he killed his first wife for her money. And Kat’s next.”

Rafe stood there a second, frozen. “Where would he take her?”

“Maybe the Breckenridge Hotel?” Nick was already turning toward the door. “I did a little online surfing about it back when you took out the lobby. You picked a real five star to destroy. It has a helipad.”

Rafe followed Nick as he jogged toward the side exit doors. “Wait—stop! We’ll never catch them in a taxi.”

Nick stopped. “And?”

Rafe grinned. It felt reckless and desperate and exactly what he needed to chase after the woman he loved. “I just won a truck.”

Nick smiled. “Yeah, you did, didn’t you?”

Rafe threw the keys to his brother. “Pick me up. And try not to scratch it.”

Nick took the truck right off the platform, laying on the horn
as he drove across the stadium floor toward the giant gate where they’d unloaded the animals. Rafe watched as one of his buddies opened the gate for him. As soon as Nick braked, Rafe climbed in. “Don’t let traffic get in your way,” Rafe said as they peeled out onto Eighth Avenue.

“Go down to Fifty-seventh and hang a right.” Rafe planted his good leg against the floorboard, his hand on the ceiling as Nick wove in and out of traffic to blaring horns and irate taxi drivers.

When Nick turned on Fifty-seventh, Rafe spotted Trump Tower. “It’s only a couple more blocks; turn left on Fifth.”

“Rafe, this is a one-way!” Nick said, already caught in the turn. He pulled out and scooted across the intersection toward Madison. “We’re going to get killed.”

“What are you doing—you missed the turn!”

“It was a one-way, for crying out loud. Calm down. We’ll get there.”

“It’s not the woman you . . . really—just drive!”

Nick took a left on Madison and slammed the brakes. Taxis edged into his path, and they slowed to a crawl.

“I told you driving in Manhattan isn’t that easy. These roads get confusing,” Rafe said, wishing he could get out and run. “Turn left at the next road. It’ll bring us right to the Breckenridge.”

Rafe glanced up at the one-way sign over the light and grimaced.

They turned on Sixtieth and finally back on Fifth into a snarl of traffic.

Rafe had his hand on the door. “It’ll take three years to get there at this speed.”

“We’re stuck.” Nick leaned back and wrapped his hands around the steering wheel.

“Take the sidewalk.”

Nick shot him a look.

“Take the sidewalk.” Rafe pointed to an opening. “It’s clear. And we’re almost there.”

“It’s this kind of thinking that gets you into trouble, you know.”

Rafe already had his hat off, had nearly broken the dashboard when he slammed his fist into it. He just about lost it when he saw a limo turn into the Breckenridge drive. “There’s the limo. Take the
sidewalk
!”

“I’m not taking the sidewalk! People will get hurt.”

“They’ll move. This is life and death, Nick,
please
!”

Nick glanced at Rafe, then cranked the wheel, driving onto the sidewalk. “Please, God, don’t let anyone get hurt.”

Rafe leaned over and hit the horn.

Horns answered him.

“Punch it, Nick. They’re moving.”

“You don’t even know that’s the right limo!”

“I can . . . sense it. They’re cutting around, pulling up to the entrance of the hotel.” He dived for the steering wheel, pulling it to the right.

Nick elbowed him back. “I’m driving here!”

“You drive like a granny! Put some gas into it!”

Nick stepped it up, muttering as the limo pulled up to the front. The truck bumped across the plaza, scattering pigeons. Nick laid on the horn as they neared the limo.

The limo kept moving.

“Where’s he going?”

“Calm down, little brother.” Nick hit the gas and the truck jumped forward, then slammed into the back bumper of the limo.

The limo ricocheted and flew into the hotel lobby. Glass shattered; scaffolding rained down on Rafe’s truck.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Nick said as the truck rocked back.

Rafe stared at him. “I think I learned everything I know from you.”

Screams and the sound of sirens cut through the roar of Rafe’s heartbeat.

“What is wrong with you?” The driver of the limo got out, a huge man who looked like he could do serious damage to both of them.

The bellboys crowded Nick’s side of the vehicle while Nick opened his door and slid out.

Rafe climbed out of the pickup, then hopped around the back of the limo. “Kitty!”

The limo door opened. Out stepped an elderly man dressed in black-tie elegance from his gray ascot to his sterling-silver-tipped cane. “I am not Kitty, young man.”

Rafe froze. But in that moment, as steam hissed out of the crumpled radiator of his new truck, as he heard sirens in the distance, he heard a scream. Despite the myriad of other screams, somehow this one found him and rattled him.

Both he and the elderly man turned toward the hotel.

Rafe grabbed a crutch, slid across the crumpled mess of the limousine hood, and landed on the other side.

Confusion reigned in the lobby as guests clogged the construction zone. Bellboys attempted to push the crowd away from the shattered glass and back into the foyer.

Rafe bullied his way through the crowd toward the elevators. The penthouse didn’t have a button. He stood there, breathing hard, his frustration hot in his chest.

The roof. He must have heard her from the roof. He jammed his thumb into the top button. “C’mon!”
Please, God, don’t let him hurt Kitty. Please, please.

The elevator opened onto the fifteenth floor. Rafe fumbled to the end of the hall, opening the stairwell. The upper door to the roof was just whooshing closed.

He could hear the whirr of the blades as he climbed the stairs. He heaved the door open.

Bradley had clearly done something to Kitty; she wasn’t walking well. She must have fought back at least a little because her mouth was bleeding. Bradley was trying to wrestle her into the chopper.

“Kitty!”

Bradley turned at Rafe’s voice, and a snarl came over his face.

Kat wrenched away but fell precariously close to the edge of the building.

Please, God, don’t let her go over!

Bradley grabbed her by the neck and pulled her to her feet. “Don’t come any closer, Noble. Or she goes over.”

It looked like Kitty hadn’t the strength to stand, because she kept crumpling, falling over to one side, moving a little farther away from Bradley each time, only to have him yank her back up. What had Bradley done to her?