A ghost of a smile touched her mouth. As it faded, she rubbed her temple as if her head were aching. “Not all that hard. Was it a cattle ranch you owned?”
He nodded. “We raised and trained quarter horses on the side, but cattle were our main stock in trade. That fall, my brother and I had arranged to buy another stud and a brood mare, and we were scheduled to make a trip up north to pick them up. We’d been gone a lot that spring and summer, riding the rodeo circuit, and I hadn’t been able to spend much time with Susan and the kids, so I decided to take them with us.”
“Susan…” she echoed softly. “When you say her name—well, I can tell you really loved her a lot.”
“She was an extraordinary person. Smart, witty, fun to be with, and so beautiful she took my breath away.” Rafe shrugged. “I’ve never seen a better mother, and, oh, God, I loved it when she laughed. She was an incurable optimist, and she always put other people first. She understood me—sometimes better than I understood myself. When she died, I felt as if my heart had been cut out. We fell in love in high school. She was so much a part of me, I didn’t know how to go on without her.”
Rafe fell silent, letting his mind drift back to that fateful autumn night.
“We had a great time that weekend. Perfect weather, perfect everything. But as we headed home, we ran into a bad storm. Freezing rain that turned to hail the size of marbles.”
“Eastern Oregon must be a bit like northern Idaho, unpredictable when it comes to the weather.”
“You’ve got that right. We weren’t expecting any hail, that’s for sure, or we would have laid over until morning. I was in the station wagon with Susan and the kids. My brother and a hired hand were in the truck ahead of us, pulling the horse trailer. The sound of the hail hitting the roof of the trailer frightened the stallion, and I could see him rearing up. I was afraid he might bust a leg.”
She shifted lower in the bed to rest her cheek on the double stack of pillows. Watching her, Rafe couldn’t help but note her pallor.
“You’re exhausted. I should let you go back to sleep.”
“No, please. I want to hear this.” She rubbed her eyes again. “I doubt I could go back to sleep right now, anyway. Listening to you talk is helping me to relax.”
Rafe couldn’t remember what he’d been about to say. “Where was I?”
“The stallion was rearing, and you were worried about it getting hurt. Was it a really expensive horse?”
“Yeah, but that wasn’t my main concern. Plain and simple, I loved horses. They were a passion of mine back then, always had been. I couldn’t bear the thought of the stallion breaking a leg and possibly having to be put down. So I got on the radio and suggested to my brother Ryan that we ride in the trailer to keep the animals calm. Susan was an excellent driver, and she’d been raised in eastern Oregon, so she was used to snow and ice. It never occurred to me that she—” He broke off and swallowed. “About two miles up the road, she lost control in a curve. The car plunged off a hundred-and-fifty-foot embankment. She and the kids were killed instantly.” He had to force out the next words. “I placed more importance on the safety of a horse than I did my own family. I’ve had to live with that ever since.”
“Oh, Mr. Kendrick, I’m so sorry.”
Her voice rang with sincerity. That helped, somehow. For once, he didn’t feel so horribly alone with the pain of remembering.
“Anyway, that’s what I dream about,” he said hollowly. “I saw it all happen from the back of the trailer. The car suddenly fishtailing, then skidding sideways on the ice. The way it hung there for a moment at the edge of the cliff before it went over.” A burning sensation washed over his eyes. “I swear to God, to this day I think Susan turned to look at me. Just for a split second, you know? But in my nightmares, that split second lasts an eternity. All I can see is the terror on her face and that pleading look in her eyes. And in every dream, I try to reach them, only I feel as if I’m running through hip-deep molasses, and I never get there in time.”
“How awful for you. And then to relive it, over and over, in your dreams.”
Rafe ran his fingertips along the edge of the drawer. When he touched the corner of a new receiving blanket poking up over the side, he fingered the downy softness and closed his eyes. “You know the worst part? Over the last few months, even in my dreams, it’s gotten so I can no longer see her face clearly, or the kids’ either. I try my best to remember how each of then looked, and I can’t. My memories of them—they’re all I have left—and now I’m even losing those.”
“Has it occurred to you that maybe you’re finally healing? I know you may not want to believe that. But grief does pass after a time, and we have to get on with the business of living. Once you do that, I think you’ll be able to remember their faces again. Not in nightmares anymore. Your memories will be of all the wonderful times you had together.”
Rafe recalled his recent dream about Susan. In some ways, that had been a good dream. Remembering the fun they’d had down by the lake. Believing, if only briefly, that he was actually back there with them.
“Deep down, do you still blame yourself as much as you did right after the wreck?” she asked.
He took a moment to consider the question. “Truthfully? Sometimes traitorous thoughts creep in.” Even to admit that made him feel guilty. “I’m not even sure where they come from. I get to thinking how I never meant for it to happen. That I loved them more than life itself, and that it’s stupid to go on blaming myself when I know damned well that Susan wouldn’t want me to.”
“And thinking that way makes you feel terrible,” she inserted.
He focused on her face. “You sound as if you’ve been through this.”
She nodded. For a second, Rafe thought she meant to say nothing more, but then she gestured limply with her hand and said, “My dad. He, um…he was killed in a logging accident.”
“And you blame yourself for that?”
“Not now, but I did for a long time. And when I finally started to turn loose of the guilt, I felt like a worm.”
The description caught him by surprise, and with a low laugh, he nodded. “That describes it perfectly, a worm. Only I feel like a worm that’s being fought over by two birds and torn apart.”
She nodded as well, indicating that she understood exactly what he meant. “In time, the torn feeling goes away, and you just feel lower than low. And soon after, even that feeling passes. Losing a parent doesn’t compare to what happened to you. I know that. But I think the stages of grief must be pretty much the same for everyone, regardless. It seems that way, anyhow.”
Watching the expressions that crossed her face, Rafe said, “You loved your dad a lot. Didn’t you?”
“We were especially close. I was devastated when he was killed, and in the ten years since, my life has never been the same. But nothing will bring him back.” She regarded the ceiling for a moment. “Now I think of all the good times we had, and I’m thankful to have so many wonderful memories.”
“How old were you when he died?”
“Fourteen.”
“So now you’re, what, twenty-four?”
She shot him a startled look. He winked and smiled. “Gotcha. I’m relentless. I’ll keep digging for information until my curiosity is satisfied.”
“Oh, well. It’s not as if my age is critical information.”
Critical information? Just the fact that she’d used that term told Rafe he hadn’t misread this situation. Given her determination to reveal so little about herself, he had to accept the fact that she might be evading the police.
Normally Rafe would have disassociated himself from anyone he believed was in trouble with the authorities, but gazing at Maggie’s sweet countenance, he couldn’t quite fathom her committing a crime. No, if she was in that kind of trouble, there had to be some kind of mistake or circumstances that had been beyond her control.
He fleetingly found himself wondering if she had accidentally killed the man who beat
her up. He was tempted to ask. No court in the land would hold her accountable for it, if that were the case. Hell, given what the bastard had done to her, they’d probably let her off even if it had been premeditated murder.
Gently, he steered the conversation back to her by saying, “You say your dad died in a logging accident? It seems like a stretch for a young girl to blame herself for that.”
“Mmmm,” she responded softly. “I suppose it does. But then, it seems like quite a stretch to me that you blame yourself for that car accident. We play nasty head games with ourselves when we’re grieving.” She passed a hand over her eyes, then let her arm settle limply on the pillow again. “There were extenuating circumstances. My mom had been really sick. Daddy was exhausted from all the extra workload at home, and he wasn’t paying close enough attention in the woods. A log rolled and crushed him. I couldn’t help but think that it might not have happened if I’d only done more of the chores to lighten his load.” She stared off at nothing for a moment. When she looked back at him, her eyes gleamed with curiosity. “So…that’s the story of how you came to be bumming the rails?”
“Pretty much. After they died, I despised the ranch and everything it represented. One morning, when I couldn’t bear being there with all the memories any longer, I left my brother a note on the kitchen table and just walked out.”
“And you never went back?”
“Nope. I’ve never even called home to tell my mom I’m okay. Bad of me, I know. I tried a few times, but I always hung up before anyone answered. I just couldn’t face hearing her voice, or listening to her plead with me to come back. I severed all ties the morning I left. I suppose it makes me sound weak, admitting that I ran away and tried to drown my sorrow in a bottle, but that’s what I did. I haven’t been sober since.”
“You’re sober now,” she reminded him.
Rafe gazed down at the baby. After a long moment, he slipped a finger under the infant’s loosely curled fingers, the pad of his thumb tracing the pointy little knuckles. “Yeah, I’m sober now. Since meeting you and Jaimie, I’ve had a reason to be. You want to hear something strange? I never thought I could bring myself to touch another baby, let alone let myself care about one. But the instant I held him, I started to feel—I don’t know—protective, I guess. He sure is a cute little tyke.”
He looked up and saw that her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. The corners of her mouth quivered slightly as she said, “Thank you for helping us, Mr. Kendrick. Until now, I didn’t realize just how painful this must be for you.” She hugged the sheet to her chest with one arm as she swiped at her cheeks. “We’ll be on our way in the morning. No more unpleasant reminders.”
“Unpleasant reminders?” He smiled and shook his head. “I’ve had a couple of rough moments. I admit that, but overall, tying up with the two of you has been a godsend.”
“A godsend?” she echoed incredulously.
“Hell, yes.” He stroked his clean-shaven jaw. “For the first time in months, I’m not drunk on my ass. And you know why? Because I couldn’t take care of Jaimie in that condition. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since anyone needed me?” He cupped a hand over the baby’s dark head. “If anyone should say thank you, honey, it’s me. I just wish—”
He broke off and fell silent. Watching him, Maggie guessed what he’d left unsaid, that he wished this time with them didn’t have to end. Her heart caught at the look of naked yearning on his face as he gazed down at her son. Even worse, she could understand it. He’d lost his own children, and there’d been a void in his life ever since. Now, in a twinkling, that void had been filled, and deep inside, where reason held no sway, he couldn’t help but wish that Jaimie were his child. That he need never go back to his lonely existence of riding the rails, his life a one-way ticket to nowhere.
Oh, yes, she understood. But as sorry as she felt for him, it scared the sand out of her as well. The last thing she needed right now were complications with another man.
All the more reason for her to make fast tracks in the morning, she told herself. The quicker she and Jaimie got away from him, the better it would be for all concerned.
When morning came, Maggie wasn’t much stronger, and Rafe’s determination to leave was a whole lot weaker. She was such a curious blend of indomitable spirit and vulnerability that he found her almost irresistible.
Yawning awake, he twisted around in the puke-green vinyl chair where he’d spent the remainder of the night, trying to work the kinks out of his spine while he considered the sleeping cherub in the drawer next to his feet. The rumpled collar of his new shirt grazed his chin. It smelled faintly of baby burp. It was a leg up on soured whiskey, at any rate.
A man could bond pretty quickly with a baby when he cared for it all night. It was also difficult to keep his emotional distance from a young woman who loved her child so selflessly. Each time Rafe had taken Jaimie to Maggie during the night, she’d put him to her breast without complaint. Rafe knew that every tug of the baby’s mouth had to hurt like the very devil. But she had endured the pain in stoic silence, the tears gliding down her cheeks the only indication she gave that she was hurting, and she’d done her best to hide those.
Watching the gentleness and love in her expression as she took Jaimie into her arms, he’d invariably felt a wave of fierce protectiveness, and crazy thoughts went spiraling through his mind. That maybe he should stay here and take care of her for a while.
She had dreamed again during the night, talking out in her sleep. Rafe had been able to make little sense of anything she said, but one thing had been absolutely clear. She was terrified of someone named Lonnie.
Was he the man who’d beaten her? If so, and the son of a bitch found her, she would need someone to defend her. He’d sure as hell get a nasty surprise if Rafe was still around. Any man who mistreated a woman like that deserved a good ass-kicking.
God, he was in over his head and sinking fast. These protective feelings he was developing for Maggie were crazy, just plain crazy. Only he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
Where was his head, up his ass? As if he was in any position to take care of her. He’d vowed to love Susan until he no longer had breath left in his body, and he couldn’t possibly make room in his heart for someone new. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did.
As he dialed the local restaurant to order takeout for breakfast, his hands shook so badly that he had trouble punching in the correct numbers. He needed a drink. His yearning from yesterday had become a burning, desperate need.
While walking to the restaurant to pick up the food he’d ordered, the winter morning sun, as sharp as a straight razor, lanced his eyes. Rafe tried deep breathing to relieve his need for alcohol. The bracing intakes of cold air only made his chest hurt. He nearly rectified the problem by stopping at the liquor shop. Only thoughts of Jaimie forestalled him. He couldn’t care for an infant if he was drunk. Instead he went to the department store again, where he bought Maggie a new blouse and warm parka, and Jaimie some sleepers, a few undershirts, and a little snowsuit. It was the least he could do, he assured himself. When he left them, he’d know they would be warm, anyway.
When Rafe returned to the motel room, he found Maggie dressed and sitting on the bed, struggling to put on her sneakers. With one glimpse of her pale face, he felt his legs go watery. He quickly closed the door to keep cold air from rushing inside and then deposited all his purchases, including the food, on the small round table near the window.
“Maggie, honey, what are you doing?”
Why he asked, he hadn’t a clue. She was obviously preparing to leave. It scared the ever-loving hell out of Rafe to realize there wasn’t one damned thing he could do to stop her. In that moment, he wished he did have that authority—that he could tell her to get her little butt back in bed, pronto.
“I have to leave today,” she told him in a thready voice. “I’ve got to get where I’m going, find a job, and send for Heidi.”
R
afe had the feeling Maggie was talking more to herself than to him, as if by saying the words, she might force her body to obey the commands from her brain.
He couldn’t bear to watch her struggle with her shoes. Even though letting her leave was the last thing he wanted, he found himself shedding his coat and hat, then hurrying over to help her. Her brown eyes shiny bright, she sighed and hugged her ribs, allowing him to work the sneaker onto her narrow foot and tie the laces.
“Thank you.” She eyed the white bag that contained the coffee and breakfast. The warm scents were hard to ignore, but he knew she’d rather starve than ask him for some of the food.
“Maggie, if you can’t even get your shoes on, how can you work?”
“I have to,” she said simply. “Heidi’s counting on me.”
“Heidi? Your little sister?”
“Yes. She’s staying with a friend until I can send for her. I can’t leave her there for very long.” She loosened one arm from around herself to brace a hand on the bed. “Do you know what time the trains come through here?”
She would get on another boxcar over his dead body. Rafe bent to put on her other shoe. As he tied the strings, he made a vain attempt to remember all the reasons he shouldn’t become any more involved with this girl. But somehow, the vague image of Susan’s face did little to set his feelings back on course. Susan no longer needed him. Maggie did.
“You know, I’ve been thinking.” His voice sounded hoarse and thick even to him. He raised his gaze to meet hers. “What’s to say that you and I can’t stay together for a while?”
“What do you mean?”
That was a damned good question. What the hell was he thinking? “I don’t mean—well, you know—that kind of together. Just as friends. Nothing permanent. For a while. Until you’re stronger and can manage on your own. Remember, I told you I hocked a ring? I’ve got some of the money left. We can hang out here at the motel for a while, and I can take care of you and Jaimie for a week or so. Until you’re well.”
Her eyes reflected her incredulity. “Why? You’ve already helped us more than—” She shook her head and pushed to her feet, putting him at an eye level with her hips. “No. I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”