Bound by Trust (13 page)

“Well,
it isn’t anymore. I’m real and so are you. I know it hurts, Madi, and I’m so
sorry you found out this way. But you have to believe me when I tell you that
I’d never do that to you. I’m not him, and as soon as you feel better we’ll go
get that ring. I swear I’ll wear it and never take it off. Anyone who doesn’t
see in you what I do is blind. I love you, Madi. Please don’t ever shut me out
again.”

She
took a long shuddered breath and rubbed her eyes. “Rafe, there’s something
else.” A new round of tears began to form.

“What
is it, honey?”

“I’m
not pregnant again.”

“It’s
okay, we’ll just keep trying, don’t worry about it.”

Chapter 11

Madi
didn’t open her eyes for the longest time after she woke up the next morning.
She hurt so badly all over, she was actually afraid to move. In fact, she
wasn’t sure if she could move. What had she been thinking last night? If pain
was what she was trying to eliminate from drinking so much, she’d only managed
to make matters worse.

Knowing
she couldn’t lie in bed all day and shirk her responsibilities, she peered out
of one eye and discovered the drapes were thankfully drawn, keeping the light
at bay. Tentatively, she rose up and found that the action sent a searing pain
ripping through her head. She lay back down, wanting to cry, and rubbed her
temples. She hadn’t done anything so stupid since four days after the funeral,
when people quit pouring in, and she was alone long enough to drink herself
into oblivion without the prying eyes of all those afraid she might lose it.
Trying again, she sat up and looked around. There on the night table, was a
glass of water, a bottle of ibuprofen, and a package of saltines. Rafe. God,
she’d been horrible to him.

She
didn’t feel sick so she passed the saltines and took three ibuprofen, doubtful
that would be enough to suppress the pounding. Swinging her legs over the side
of the bed, she wondered for a moment if skipping the crackers had been that
great of an idea then ran to the bathroom. A lot of good it had done to take
the ibuprofen. She started a hot shower and just stood under the water not
really caring if she was clean or not, she just needed the therapeutic value of
the spray.

While
she stood there under the steamy cascade with her head on the cool tile wall,
she heard the door open.

“Madi?”
Rafe’s voice was full of concern. “You okay in here?”

“I’m
not sure.” She pulled herself up and peered around the curtain hoping she
didn’t look as bad as she felt.

He
stood there unshaven in the same clothes he’d been wearing when he put her to
bed last night. The poor man was going on two days without rest now and it was
her fault.

In
his hand was a cup of steaming coffee. “You ready for some of this?” He offered
the mug.

All
she could do was nod as she accepted it. After taking a drink of the hot black
liquid, hoping it helped and didn’t make matters worse, she returned the cup
and stuck her head back under the water.

“Can
I come in there and wash your back?”

This
man had a heart of gold and a resolve of steel. What other human on earth would
have put up with her the last twenty-four hours? Most men would have packed
their bags at this point.

“Yes,
please.”

In
only a few seconds he’d joined her in the shower. With her forehead still
against the now warm ceramic, she felt him taking her braid loose. She didn’t
even realize until then that she’d failed to do it herself. Gently he pulled
her back letting the water run through her hair while he found her shampoo. The
sharp smell of mint floated through the mist as he worked his fingers across
her scalp and rubbed her neck. Leaving that task, he retrieved her loofah
sponge, loaded it up with her rosemary body wash, and worked it over her
shoulders and back and down her legs. He turned her and tenderly applied the
same treatment to her front. With her eyes closed, she allowed him to
administer this most intimate pampering. Not only was he cleansing her body, he
was coating her soul with the salve of caring. He was giving her the gift of
his strength and allowing her to be weak, and for once in her life she didn’t
feel guilty or feel as though she was inconveniencing anyone with her grief.

She
opened her eyes and looked into his. “Rafe, I can’t…”

He
put his fingers over her lips. “I know. I’m not in here for that,” he said
quietly. “This isn’t about me, or what I might need, it’s about you.”

He
worked his hands through her hair, sending the suds rushing down her to puddle
at her feet. When she was free of soap, he took her head in his hands and
kissed her forehead. Then he cradled it against his shoulder and just held her,
the water trickling over them both. The feel of it running between them across
their skin, the unobtrusive quiet they shared, the safety of being in his arms
without expectation—it was all so soothing and felt so right.

“Rafe?”
She still hung limp in his arms.

“What
is it?” He was rubbing her back again.

“I’m
sorry.”

“There’s
nothing for you to be sorry for, Madi. I meant what I said last night. I love
you and I’m not going anywhere.”

When
the water ran cold, he helped her dry off and sent her to dress while he went
to take care of the horses. When he came back, she was huddled on one end of
the couch in a pair of baggy sweats and a t-shirt. Her eyes were shut, her
mouth was barely open, and she slept.

He
pulled the afghan down off the back of the couch and covered her with it. Then
he leaned back and shut his eyes. Fatigue was taking its toll on him as well.
He’d stayed awake most of the night watching her and wondering why a little
warning hadn’t been tossed his way. At least then he’d have been prepared for
the likes of what had happened yesterday. Jared had known all along. However,
he couldn’t be faulted for not knowing the evidence would be delivered
inadvertently by the UPS man one day. He probably figured he would save her
feelings by keeping his mouth shut. But a heads up would have been nice
nonetheless.

*
* * *

When
Madi woke up again, the only remnant of her headache was a dull pulse behind
her eyes. Enough water would probably cure that. Her throat and mouth were so
dry she wondered if she could swallow. She took in a long deep breath and
rubbed the back of her hands across her eyes. Blinking, she looked around to
find the room was still in shambles. It was worse than she remembered causing
during her rage.

Gretchen
wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She’d probably scared the poor animal so badly
she’d never have anything to do with her again. Rafe was missing as well and
the house was eerily quiet. Maybe he’d finally come to his senses and decided
she wasn’t worth the effort. Then she remembered the wall. Sweet Jesus. That
was something that would take more than a broom and dustpan to fix. After Rafe
had worked so hard to fix it for her, she managed to wreck it. It made her
throat constrict to think she’d so disrespectfully hurt him.

She
left the couch and padded in her stocking feet to the kitchen, smelling
something cooking before she reached the door. After pouring herself a glass of
tea from the pitcher Rafe had left in the refrigerator, she peered into the pot
and found a delicious chicken soup simmering away. Would the man never cease to
give? If he was cooking though, where was he?

With
a refilled glass, she went back through the house, wading through the mess she
would have to get to soon and went to the music room. It was there that she found
him sitting back on his haunches applying a fresh coat of primer to a bare two-foot
square on the wall. The glass had been removed, the stained part of the wall
sanded, and the drywall would soon be ready to repaint.

“There
you are.” Rafe looked up and laid the brush across the top of the paint can.
“Are you feeling any better? You look a little better.”

She
noticed he’d shaved and the dark circles under his eyes were all but gone.

“I’m
not a hundred percent.” She wandered over and sat cross-legged on the floor in
front of him. “But I’m closer than I was this morning.”

“I
didn’t just mean physically, Madi, I mean how are you feeling?”

She
hadn’t expected him to ask her that and wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Well,
I don’t feel angry anymore; I think I successfully purged that with my
outburst. I think I mostly feel hurt and betrayed.” She sighed and ran a hand
back over the top of her head. “We Collier women didn’t do a great job with the
first go round, did we? First Mama put up with Daddy for thirty-four years,
then I married another one just like him, and Meredith had her turn with Chad.
CeCe was the only strong one of us who ever knew what real love was. I miss
her.”

“What
do you mean you married one just like your dad?” Rafe encouraged her, thinking
maybe talking about it would help her.

“Daddy
wasn’t the epitome of an upstanding husband. He had girlfriends too, and he
kept Mama under this thumb. She wasn’t allowed to have many friends. That’s why
she is so wild now I suppose, making up for lost time.” She backed up to the
wall and drew her knees up. “Daddy hated Gage, but I guess I know why now, they
were too much alike.”

For
a few minutes she sat there in quiet contemplation on the other thing that had
only served to add to her misery. “Rafe, I want so badly to give you a baby and
I’m beginning to be afraid that it’s not going to happen.”

“Maybe
we should try not worrying about having a baby for a while. I think maybe we’ve
been so wrapped up in that we’ve forgotten about each other. Maybe if we just
stop trying it will work itself out.”

“Maybe
you’re right,” she relented. “But what if it never happens?”

“Well,
then we’ll just have to resort to plan B.” He stood up and stretched his back.

“Which
is what?”

“Adoption.”
He was so confidently matter-of-fact.

She’d
never considered that. Would it be the same though? Would raising a child that
they didn’t make take the place of their own flesh and blood?

“Do
you feel like eating now?” He reached out to help her to her feet.

“Yes,
I think I do.”

Back
on the couch, she sat with her legs tucked up under her and the afghan wrapped
around them. She accepted the big mug of homemade chicken soup he brought her
and looked disgustedly at the mess she’d created.

“I’m
sorry about all this. I’ll pick it up after I eat.” She blew on the hot
contents, sending steam across the rim.

“No,
you won’t. We will. I didn’t leave it here to punish you; I just didn’t know
exactly what to do with it.” He reached out and stroked her cheek with his
fingers. “I didn’t want to throw anything out that you might actually want,
although I couldn’t fathom what that might be.”

“It
all needs to go, I don’t ever want to see those letters and photos again,” she
said acrimoniously. “Burn everything except his uniforms and anything his
family might want. I’ll send it to them in a few days.” She peered over the rim
of her mug at him sitting in the big chair across from her. “Did you already
eat?”

“Just
a while ago. I didn’t want to wake you and my belly was trying to eat itself.”

She
grinned at him. “You know you’ve never told me where you learned to cook.”

“My
grandmother.” He leaned back in the chair with his hands laced behind his head.
“We all had to take our turn, boys and girls, didn’t matter.” He sighed and
leaned forward again. “Madi, I put in for leave in two weeks, I want to take
you home to meet my family. I think maybe it’ll do you good to get away for a
few days.”

“I
wonder what your family will think of the virtual stranger you married.”

“I
think they’ll be glad I found someone like you.”

Madi
looked at him wondering what he meant by that. “What am I like, Rafe?”

“I
think you are a completely selfless woman who’s been dealt a lot of bad cards,
but instead of laying down and quitting, you keep getting up and dusting yourself
off.”

Was
that what she did? Funny, she thought having a couple of tirades a year was
absolutely selfish. Especially when someone else had to help her up and do the
dusting off.

*
* * *

Aiden
and Jared agreed to take on the responsibility of caring for Gretchen and the
horses while Rafe and Madi were away in Montana for a few days. With post-it
notes stuck everywhere so that she would feel better about leaving her
children, as the animals had been dubbed, and their bags in the back of the
truck, they left early on an unbearably muggy August morning.

“I
still think we could have taken the Lexus and saved a ton on gas,” she said,
watching the hills of Missouri turn to flat prairies as they crossed over into
Nebraska. It was still odd to her that money wasn’t an issue and she still
caught herself trying to save everywhere she could.

“That’s
true, but you don’t want my brothers to laugh at me, showing up in a girly car
when I have a big manly truck to haul my woman around in.” Rafe gave her a
sideways glance, smirking.

“Good
God, I thought we were past the barbarian club-wielding stage of our
relationship.” She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Of course, I wouldn’t want you
to look like a sissy.”

Turning
sideways in the seat and pulling one leg up under the other, she looked at her
husband. It was sometimes still hard to believe that she had gone off to
Kentucky one day and, on a whim, came back home married to a near stranger. He
was looking particularly handsome this morning, as he had put on his cowboy
clothes, as she’d tagged them. He wore his faded indigo jeans, a short-sleeved
navy and white striped shirt with pearl snaps, which offset his darkened arms
from hours of being outside all summer, and his black Resistol sat back on his
head. To finish off the wild west persona Madi teased him about, he had pulled
out his good ropers, not the scuffed ones he wore when he fed the horses. It
was seeing him like this that reminded her of why she had lured him into sex on
the patio the first night she laid eyes on him. He was incredibly gorgeous. She
knew now that it was by no accident that it had happened. She’d wanted it, and
probably willed it, to happen.