10
Soaking in the tub
Lawson’s Landing, early October
Rafferty watched the girl and the horse interact.
It was a touching scene. With long, even strokes, Amelia moved the soft-bristled brush across Elsa’s already gleaming coat, and her other arm loped under the mare’s neck.
In response, the mare draped her head over the girl’s shoulder, returning the hug.
As he neared, he heard the sniffles.
Aw, hell. Amelia was crying. He stopped, debating whether he should leave or approach.
Give the girl her privacy.
God knows, if the roles were reversed, he’d hate it if someone intruded.
And he should not involve himself in the lives of Brandy-Lyn and her offspring.
The woman was already a distraction he did not need.
Besides, he’d only officially met her kids once.
When his mom had invited the family to a meal.
One Rafferty had excused himself from within minutes.
So, approaching one of Brandy-Lyn’s children was not a good idea. At all.
Just leave.
About the turn away, Elsa lifted her head and whinnied.
He stifled a groan. Busted.
Amelia swung a startled look his way.
“Hey.” He lifted a hand in greeting. “I can go,” he added, motioning his thumb over his shoulder.
She swiped an arm across her face. “It’s fine. Just being silly,” she mumbled.
He walked closer, giving the teenager a thoughtful look.
“Emotions are never silly.” Stopping on the other side of the horse, he patted Elsa’s neck.
“Morning, darlin’.” The mare lowered her head and butted his side.
He chuckled. “Greedy girl,” he chided, but obediently removed the apple stored in his sweatshirt pocket.
“She really likes you,” Amelia said with a touch of awe as Elsa devoured her treat.
Grinning, he smoothed an open palm across the mare’s side. “So it seems.”
He surreptitiously studied Brandy-Lyn’s eldest daughter. Tall, slender, blonde, blue-eyed, she clearly took after her father. She was also out of sorts. Before he could stop himself, he opened his mouth. “You wanna talk about it?”
She gave him a startled look.
He shrugged. “You’re upset. It helps to talk about … stuff.”
Really? And how is that working out for you, Trick?
Amelia resumed her brushing. “My father’s here.”
“Here?” All he knew about Brandy-Lyn’s ex-husband was that the man had been a friend of Sullivan’s in college, and judging by Amelia’s age, Brandy-Lyn had not wasted time shacking up when Sullivan left to take his place when things went apeshit during a covert mission.
“He’s staying in town but he … arrived here a while ago. I …” Her eyes teared again. “I hate him,” she whispered.
The pain in her voice belied her harsh words.
“Hate’s a strong word, darlin’.”
She angrily swiped her cheeks. “Mom says I must forgive him. Let it go. But … I c-can’t. I just can’t. I … can’t even look at him. What he did … it was wrong, Mr. Lawson. So very wrong.” Amelia lifted painfilled eyes to him. “And shameful.”
What had the man done? He wanted to storm across to Brandy-Lyn’s place and call the man out for whatever the idiot had done to upset his daughter. But he held himself in check.
Who was he to cast judgment? His life was littered with shameful acts.
Amelia continued, “It hurts, here” — she pressed her hand to her gut — “every time I think about how he treated Mom.”
Was that how Charlie had felt? A physical manifestation of the mental anguish he’d repeatedly caused her? Yet she had forgiven him, again and again. “I know what it feels like to mess up and be forgiven. Maybe your mom is right.”
“But he cheated on Mom,” she blurted out. “And years ago, he took advantage of her. While she was drunk .” The last word was barely audible. “How am I supposed to respect a man like that, Mr. Lawson?”
What a dickhead. At least cheating wasn’t one of his sins.
Movement beyond the paddock caught his eye. He stiffened.
Amelia groaned.
“Amelia,” the man bellowed, jumping over the wooden fence.
Elsa snorted and raised her head. And before Rafferty could react, the mare spun, knocking Amelia to the ground, the right front hoof clipping Amelia’s thigh. The horse thundered away as he dropped beside her. “You okay, darlin’?”
Amelia rubbed her thigh, wincing. “Yeah. Just a sideswipe.”
“Bet it hurts like f— the dickens.”
“A bit.”
Rafferty rose and held his hand out to the girl. She took it, and he tugged her upright, placing another hand under her elbow to steady her.
“Get away from my daughter,” Richard exploded.
“Why’d you go and yell like that?” Amelia returned.
Stepping back, Rafferty held up his hands. “Only trying to help.”
“Amelia, I do not want you associating with this … this convict!”
“Do you have to be such an ass , Dad?” She grunted when she put weight on her leg as she backed away from his reach.
Richard frowned. “You’re hurt?”
Amelia gave her father a stink-eye. “No thanks to you.”
“Amelia—”
“Not now, Dad. You’ve done enough,” she snipped, turning to look at Elsa. The mare watched them warily from the opposite side of the enclosure. “I need to check up on Elsa. Before she thinks I blame her.” She shot her father another dirty look.
Richard wrapped his hand around her upper arm. “I came here to talk to you,” he stated. “Not watch you pander to a damn animal.”
Amelia jerked her arm, but the man merely tightened his grip. “Dad! Let me go!”
Rafferty shot his arm out and closed his hand over the man’s wrist. “Let her go,” he warned.
“Stay out of our business,” the dickhead snarled.
He dug his fingers deep. “I said. Release her.”
Finally, the man loosened his grip enough for Amelia to jerk her arm away. “You’ve done enough damage for one day, Dad. Just go,” she spat, turning away.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me, Amelia.” Richard made a move to go after his daughter.
Rafferty placed a none-too-gentle hand on his shoulder.
The man flinched from under his touch. “Hands off me, convict,” he snarled. But he refrained from walking after his daughter. Instead, he shouted, “Dammit, Amelia. I’m your father. And I came here to talk to you.”
She called over her shoulder, “Got nothing to say to you,” and continued across the uneven ground, her gait unsteady as she favored her injured leg.
Rafferty’s heart went out to her. “Way to go, man.”
Without replying, Richard stalked away, muttering something about a savage beast.
Rafferty snorted. You have no idea.
In a déjà vu moment, Rafferty looked at the young girl and horse.
Walk away. She is not your concern.
But fuck, she was crying . He scooped up the brush Amelia had dropped and set out across the paddock. By the time he reached the two, he had his annoyance at the man under control. No need to unsettle the horse (and girl) even further.
She lifted a tearstained face to him. “I’m sorry he was such a dick to you.”
He shrugged. “Not your fault, darlin’,” he murmured, scratching Elsa under her chin. The mare lifted her head, giving him better access.
“But to call you a c-convict … That’s just mean, Mr. Lawson. Everyone knows you were undercover.”
“Your father’s actions are not on you.”
She closed her eyes, leaned her head against Elsa, and wrapped her arms around the horse. Her body shuddered as she took a deep breath. “Still …”
“Prison, no matter the reason, leaves a mark on a person. Your dad was just looking out for you.”
Her eyes popped open, and her body snapped straight.
“If he was looking out for me, or Pres or Liv, or Mom even, he’d never have done what he did.
We had to move here because he sold our horse farm so he could shack up with his mistress and their baby in a fancy house in Austin.
And he blamed Mom for the divorce. He called her horrible and mean names, Mr. Lawson, but Mom is the kindest and nicest person, and the bestest mom ever . ”
Elsa whinnied, baring her teeth.
“Aw, darn it.” Amelia deflated. “So sorry, Elsa,” she whispered, patting the mare’s neck. “I’m not upset with you.”
Rafferty noticed Amelia wince when she shifted her bodyweight. “You need to get your leg looked at. Maybe rub in some arnica to help with the bruising.”
“But I haven’t finished Elsa’s morning rub.”
Rafferty held up the brush. “I’ll take care of Elsa for you.”
She held his stare for a moment, then nodded with a hearty sigh. “Guess I can’t hide here forever,” she murmured, and placed a kiss on the side of Elsa’s nose before stepping back. “Thanks for letting me vent, Mr. Lawson.”
“Anytime. But how about you drop the mister and call me Rafferty? Or Raff, if you prefer.”
She cocked her head and gave him a small smile. “I’d like that, Raff. My friends and family call me Mimi.”
He returned her smile. “It’s an honor to be your friend, Mimi.”
*
Against his better judgement, Rafferty climbed the steps leading to Brandy-Lyn’s front door that evening and knocked.
He’d never been inside the log cabin, originally built for his grandmother after his grandfather passed.
After Aidan’s first marriage ended, Mammy moved into the Main House, while Aidan and Caitlin lived in the cabin.
Later, when Aidan married Cecelia, they built their own home.
The cabin sat empty for a time until Josephine returned.
When she and Kurt became a couple, Sullivan moved in.
Now the woman who haunted his mind lived there.
Turn around. Leave.
It opened seconds later to reveal Preston. He had met Brandy-Lyn’s son a couple of weeks ago when he’d found the teenager drooling over his new Ducati Multistrada.
The boy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Hey, Mr. Lawson.” He stood aside. “Come in.”
The small hallway opened into a spacious, double-volume room with an oversized navy U-shaped sectional facing a wide TV above the stone fireplace. To the left, a kitchen stretched along the wall, divided by a long cooking island. The air smelled of popcorn and butter.
Warm. Homey. Far too inviting.
“Hey, Mr. Lawson!”