Still the One (9 page)

“I never had any doubt.”

She smiled.

“All right, I’ll stay, but you call me the second you hear anything about your sister.”

“Yes, I will.”

“And Kit?”

“Yes.”

“This is not your fault.”

“I know, but—”

“No buts.”

“Okay.” She smiled, wishing she’d already found Liz in some tropical bar somewhere, not running from a guy who could be connected to the mob. She hated for her dad to worry. “Maybe I’ll hear from her today.”

“Please call me, Kit. For any reason.”

“I will. Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

She disconnected, staring blankly out the glass door. A dull throbbing built in her head. It wasn’t enough that she was fighting these swirling, unwanted emotions about Rafe, but this worry over Liz chewed at her insides like acid.

Kit rubbed at the sudden sting in her eyes. Where was her sister, anyway? If she could know Liz was all right. If she had an inkling that she and Rafe might find her soon. Or hear from her.

Kit wasn’t sure how long she could stay with Rafe without doing something stupid, something…physical. Smart had been nowhere around ever since she’d hooked up with him again, especially yesterday.

“Breakfast is ready.” His voice was tight.

She turned and found him watching her from the kitchen doorway. His jaw was rigid, his eyes sharp as lasers.

“Come eat.”

With a frown at his commanding tone, she passed the sofa and laid her cell phone on the end table.

Balancing two cups of coffee and a small glass of orange juice in his hands, he walked to the table while she sat down. She forced her gaze from the ripple of muscles across his bare belly to the plate in front of her, heaped with eggs and sausage. Two slices of wheat toast sat on a
saucer next to her plate, complete with a small jar of blackberry preserves. Her favorite.

The ache inside her drilled a little deeper at the fact that he’d remembered, at the sudden way he’d closed himself off from her. “This looks great. I’m starved.”

He slid into his chair and stabbed a bite of eggs. “You should’ve let him come.”

She looked up in surprise. This was about her father? “I didn’t want to worry him. I’ve got everything under control.”

He muttered something under his breath. “That won’t stop him from worrying. Liz is
his
daughter.”

She frowned at the sharpness in his voice. “Why are you getting all worked up?”

“Because maybe he needed to do something, to feel as if he were helping.”

“But there’s no need. I—”

“You wouldn’t let him help, just like you never let me help.”

She dropped her fork. “What are you talking about? You’re helping me right now.”

“That’s not what I mean. Why do you have to solve every crisis, Kit? Take responsibility for everything in the family?”

“Because I’m…supposed to.”

“No, you’re not,” he said pointedly. “Liz, and only Liz, is responsible for her actions. Your dad sees that. Why can’t you?”

“Just because you’re helping me find her doesn’t mean my family is any of your business.”

“The hell it doesn’t! Isn’t this why you
really
walked away from me? Because you
can’t
let go? Because you can’t let anyone help you?”

Anger and hurt exploded inside her. “No, I walked away because of your ‘I’m in charge’ attitude, because you made
decisions without even consulting me. Just like our engagement. You assumed I’d marry you, pick up and leave my family. You never even asked me.”

“At the time, I thought you loved me. I thought you wanted to be with me, no matter where.”

“I
wanted
to be asked.”

He dragged a hand down his face. “I know. That was stupid and wrong of me. I thought if I could just get you to go with me, sweep you off your feet….” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“It does matter. You thought if I left with you that I’d stop caring for my family.”

“Of course not,” he snapped. “But I did think that maybe Liz would start running her own life.”

“She needed me.”

“So did I.”

“You did not!”

His gaze shot to hers. She saw pain and a vulnerability in the dark depths before they went opaque.

She sobered, picked up her fork, put it down. “I never felt that you needed me.”

“I did. But I couldn’t give you what
you
needed.”

“That’s not true.”

“Why were you always pushing me away?”

“I…wasn’t.” Had she done that?

“Then why didn’t we work out?” His gaze met hers. There was no rancor in his voice, just an earnestness that made her chest hurt.

“Because you wanted to make all the decisions without me.”

“I wanted to
help
you. Yes, I made a mistake by trying to control things so that you had no responsibilities, but that’s because you already had too many.”

Flustered by the idea of something she’d never consid
ered, she stammered, “I was perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”

“I wasn’t trying to make your decisions. I was just trying to make things easier on you.”

“You thought I’d just go away with you, leave my family.”

“But not because I wanted you to abandon them.”

She saw a loneliness, a reserve in his eyes she’d never seen, and the truth of what he’d said hit her with enough force to stall the breath in her lungs. She
had
always pushed him away. She hadn’t ever recognized that he might need her because it wasn’t the consuming kind of need her sister had for her.

The regret in his eyes tore at her. She speared a piece of sausage, chewed. “Why didn’t you explain this to me then?”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” he said tiredly. “You saw things the way you had to see them. I think you just couldn’t stand to give up some of that responsibility.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because if you did, you’d have to give up the guilt you feel over your mom’s death.”

She bit down hard on a piece of toast. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And if you did give it up, who’d take care of Liz? Who’d be there to mother her? Your mom’s death wasn’t your fault, Kit.”

Hurt stabbed deep. “I’m not going to talk about this with you.”

“You’re right. Things didn’t work out between us. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“So here we are.”

“Right. Here we are.”

Their eyes met.

The uncertainty she felt was mirrored in his dark gaze.
The moment stretched between them, then he turned his attention to his plate; she did the same.

With a tightness in her chest, Kit realized how much she’d hurt Rafe ten years ago. She’d leaned on him so many times for comfort, then felt strong enough to handle things on her own. He’d seen that as rejection. She’d never meant it that way, but it didn’t change the fact that he felt it. She’d seen the bleak truth in his eyes.

And he couldn’t know that her dad had been pushing her for years to make Liz stand on her own. He’d finally quit, Kit realized, two years ago when they’d both thought Liz was really going to straighten up. What would life be like if Kit had to take care of only herself?

She had wondered about it before, gotten a little taste of freedom for the last two years, and she liked it, but at the first sign that Liz was in trouble, she’d jumped right back in with both feet. The possibility of living only for herself opened up a window for Kit she hadn’t let herself look into until now. A window with Rafe.

He finished his breakfast and rose, then took his dishes to the sink and rinsed them off. When she moved beside him, he opened the dishwasher, sliding the dishes inside while she wiped the table. The tautness in his shoulders, the wariness she picked up from him pricked at her.

We just didn’t work out.
Had he really closed the door to their past? Hadn’t he ever wondered, just once since she’d asked for his help, if things were really over between them?

He closed the dishwasher. “Let’s go out to my folks’.”

Kit’s eyes widened. “I’m sure I’m the last person they want to see.”

“They probably aren’t even there. They’ve been camping at Grand Lake.”

And what if Dale and Willa Blackstock were home? Unease curled through her. She hadn’t seen or talked to Rafe’s
parents since her and Rafe’s broken engagement. “What about Liz?”

“We’ve both got cell phones. Uncle Wayne knows to call mine if he finds anything in the FBI database about Alexander. I also gave that number to Tony’s parole officer and everyone else we’ve talked to.”

“True,” she murmured. Of course, being cooped up inside this house with Rafe, trying to ignore the want humming through her body, would be more agonizing than risking a meeting with his parents. Fresh air and open space might help restore her equilibrium.

“We’ll ride horses or walk or fish, whatever you want. Let’s just get out of here. This waiting is getting to both of us. If it weren’t for that visit from Mr. Mysterious yesterday, I’d even let you have a little time to yourself.”

“All right.”

“Good. Once we get back from there, we can swing by and check on Tony’s former cell mate. He’s due in from the harvest today.”

“Okay.” The admission he’d made a few minutes ago about trying to shield her from more responsibility had ignited a realization that slowly grew inside her. He was quickly becoming the same steady presence in her life he’d been when they were lovers.

Her pulse skipped at the thought of all the times she’d made love with Rafe. They’d never had trouble with the physical part. It would be easy to give in to the attraction still very much alive between them. Just the thought of being with him again quickened her pulse.

He understood her; he always had, except she hadn’t seen it. What about now? Was there any hope they might have another chance?

A
lmost an hour later, Rafe stood in the barn on his parents’ property. Frustration sawed through him, as it had since his conversation with Kit at breakfast. He should’ve kept his mouth shut. Pointing out Kit’s responsibility to her family was not only none of his business, it was futile.

Only Kit could change the way things were in her family, and she wasn’t inclined.

She stood at the stall door behind him, watching quietly with those big eyes. The blue-gray depths were clear, interested, but he remembered how they’d gone dark with desire yesterday.

He shoved away the mental image and tightened the cinch on Sugar, the palomino mare he’d chosen for Kit to ride. Sasha, the younger mare, was full of herself today; Rafe would ride her.

Kit moved behind him, stroking Sugar’s nose and talking softly to the mare. He glanced back, noting the way Kit’s jeans gloved her tight little rear. Rafe determinedly pulled
his gaze away. There was no way he could’ve stayed with her in the house.

All he’d thought about since yesterday at the shooting range was how close she was to his bed, how she’d feel beneath him.

He’d hoped that, out here busying himself with the animals, he wouldn’t be so aware of her. He didn’t want to feel this frustration, didn’t want to feel
anything.
She’d proved once again that when there were problems, she would still push him away, still wouldn’t let him help her. She hadn’t changed, and he wasn’t interested.

He figured if he told himself that a hundred times, he might believe it.

She murmured to the mare, and her voice slid over Rafe like silk on skin. Reminding him of her hands on him yesterday, the feel of her breath whispering against his lips. Her soft floral scent flirted in and out of the more potent smells of horse and hay and saddle leather.

He shouldn’t have told her how he’d tried to shield her from more responsibility, shouldn’t have tried to justify his take-charge attitude. It didn’t matter. None of it did. All that mattered was finding Dizzy Lizzy and staying away from Kit until they did. He wanted her, and no matter how much that fact ate him up, it was still a fact.

Even as irritated as he was, he couldn’t dismiss the changes in her he’d noticed, though her overdeveloped sense of responsibility to her family wasn’t one of them. She seemed more dissatisfied with Liz, more willing to speak her mind to him, more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her. Those differences intrigued him, planted maverick thoughts in his mind to see just what else might have changed.

In college, he’d always been the one to lend an ear, to try to soothe away any troubles, but he’d never let her do that for him. At the time, he thought he would appear weak
to her. Instead she told him at breakfast that she believed he’d never needed her.

Well, it was better for her to continue believing that. He wasn’t going to let her hurt him again, and opening up to Kit had hurt written all over it.

“This mare looks just like the one I used to ride.”

“You rode Beauty. This is her foal, Sugar.” Down the stable a horse snorted, and Rafe grinned. “There she is, saying hello.”

Kit turned, then moved down two stalls to where the mare stood.

He pulled another saddle blanket from the weathered wooden wall behind him and shouldered his way past Sugar, who had her head buried in an oat bucket. Sasha, a black-and-white paint, sidestepped, then butted his chest with her nose.

“Yes.” He scratched a spot behind her ear, then placed the yellow-and-red striped blanket on her back. “You can run today.”

Just outside the stall, he heard Kit speaking softly to Beauty, and the sound torched something deep inside him, something cold and sharp that he refused to define. He needed a lead in this case so he could track down Dizzy Lizzy and Kit could be on her way. That’s where he needed to keep his mind.

He tugged the saddle from the same wall that had held the blanket and settled it onto Sasha’s back.

Kit stepped inside the stall, bringing that nibble-me scent with her again.

Sugar blew out a breath and moved toward Kit, nudging her jeans-clad hip for a treat.

“Nothing for you yet, baby,” Kit cooed as she ran a hand down the mare’s neck.

Rafe clenched his jaw, tried not to remember how she’d
grabbed onto him yesterday as if he were the only shelter in a twister.

Sasha bumped him with her rump in protest, and he realized he’d yanked a little too hard on the cinch around her middle. “Sorry.”

He patted the mare, then turned to Kit. “Go ahead and mount up. I’ll need to adjust the stirrups for you.”

As she swung one trim leg over the saddle, the seat of her jeans pulled taut across her rounded bottom. His body tightened.

Disgusted, he yanked his gaze away and moved beside the mare to find Kit smiling at him.

“What?” He reached for the stirrup strap, unbuckled it and threaded it up two notches.

She laughed, a soft, lively sound that pinged across his nerves. “Remember the first time you brought me out here?”

He remembered a hot and desperate session in his car, which was probably not what she meant. “Yeah.”

She patted Sugar’s neck. “I did all right on the ride until we were on the way back here and Beauty realized we were headed for the barn.”

Rafe grunted, hoping she would stop with the memories before she worked her way to the one where he’d started. He stepped around to her other side, reached for the strap.

“She took off like a shot, scared me out of my wits.”

“You were howling like a wet cat.”

She swatted at him. “I was not. I was…startled.”

He grinned. Without thinking, he reached up and wrapped his hand around her calf to place her foot into the stirrup. Firm muscle flexed beneath his palm.

He froze. So did she.

He wanted to slide his hand up, cup the heat between her legs just like that saddle was.

“You didn’t catch up to me until she’d stopped in the barn.”

Kit’s voice was strained, as if she were forcing the words. Hell, he knew he would be.

He clenched his jaw against the memory, but still it flooded in. He’d run his hands over her, making sure she was all right, and she’d fallen full into him, laughing, kissing him hard and deep. Her hands and mouth had been eager, inviting.

“The horse wasn’t as rough on me as you were,” she said in a shy, tentative voice. “You grabbed me so tight, I could barely breathe.”

So, she’d finally remembered. He glanced up and saw that color flagged her cheeks. She leaned over to fiddle unnecessarily with the stirrup he’d already adjusted.

“Hey, I was trying.” He managed to speak without snapping. Slowly, he moved his hand away from her. “Beauty couldn’t be caught when she had the barn in her sights.”

“You were scared,” Kit said. “I’d never seen you like that.”

“You’d never been on a horse before. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” He gave one last tug on the cinch to make sure it was secure.

“I was fine.”

“Yeah, you were.” He saw in her eyes the memory of how they’d kissed with reckless abandon, how he’d dragged her to his car only to stop two miles down the road to finish what they’d started.

“Rafe?”

“That was a long time ago,” he said gruffly, fighting the urge to haul her out of that saddle and kiss her until he forgot that she’d walked away from him. “Shouldn’t have any problems with that today. Sugar doesn’t take off like her mother.”

He ignored the hurt in Kit’s eyes, just like he ignored
the want drumming through his veins. The way he’d been ignoring it all morning. Hell, ever since she’d popped back into his life. “You’re good to go.”

She nodded, urged the horse to move into the middle of the barn, onto the packed dirt floor littered with feed dust and hay. He swung into the saddle and followed.

He’d thought coming out here would block the images that had plagued him at the house. Images that involved Kit in his bed wearing nothing but him. Her little trip down memory lane hadn’t been good for either of them.

As he guided his mare past hers, she followed, heading for the barn doors. She rode slightly behind him, drawn into herself again. Good, he decided, ruthlessly dismissing the urge to smooth things over. It wasn’t his job any more to comfort or protect.

Just as they reached the barn’s wide double doors, two people appeared outside. Recognizing their silhouettes against the strong glare of the sun, Rafe groaned inwardly.

“Rafe, we saw your car.”

“Hi, honey.”

Dale and Willa Blackstock stepped inside the barn.

Rafe glanced back. Kit reined her horse to an abrupt stop behind his mare and shot a look at him. He saw panic then uncertainty in the blue-gray depths.

“Hi, Mom, Dad.” His hold tightened on the reins.

“You’ve got company?” his mother asked pleasantly. Squinting as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light of the barn, she started around his mare’s head, trying to get a look at who sat the horse next to him.

His father snagged her elbow. “Willa.”

Rafe saw Kit wince, then she urged her horse forward so that a wedge of sunlight fell full on her face. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Blackstock.”

“Kit?” Willa’s tone was incredulous, and even Rafe
picked up on the indignity beneath the surprise. “Kit Foley?”

“I’m helping Kit with a case,” he said quickly, wishing that for once his parents would adhere to some sort of schedule. “We’re taking a break while we wait for a phone call.” He wasn’t opening up the whole can of worms about Liz.

Kit started to dismount. “It’s been a long time.”

“No, no, it’s all right. Stay up there.” Willa’s gaze went to Rafe, then to Kit. His dad just stood there, Choctaw features unreadable, but Rafe saw the questions in his black eyes. The warning.

“I…hope you’re doing well,” Willa said stiffly.

“I know this is very awkward.” Kit’s fingers knotted and unknotted the reins. “I’m sorry.”

Rafe’s heart clenched. Whatever else they thought of her, surely his parents would admit she had guts.

“Nonsense,” Willa said briskly.

His dad nodded.

“I hope everything’s okay,” his mom said. “Rafe mentioned a case?”

“Mom.”

“My sister’s missing.”

Though he’d given her the opportunity to keep quiet, Rafe admired Kit for not dancing around the truth. She had to expect the disapproval that came into his mother’s brown eyes at the mention of Liz.

“I hope she’s all right, that everything works out.”

“I have every confidence that Rafe will find her.”

His parents’ features both tightened. Dale pulled on Willa’s arm. “Let’s leave them alone to get on with their ride, hon. We need to unpack anyway.”

Rafe threw his dad a grateful look and kneed Sasha into motion.

Kit followed him out of the barn, then reined up in front
of his parents. “I’m really sorry. I’m sure you didn’t expect to see me here today.”

“No, but it’s all right,” Willa said firmly. “Good luck with your sister. I hope you find her quickly.”

“Thank you.” Kit smiled weakly, said goodbye to Dale and followed Rafe out of the paddock to the open field behind the barn.

They rode in silence for several yards. Kit looked pale, even more so in the glare of sunlight. Her mouth was drawn tight.

“I bet that was the surprise of their lives. Nothing like coming home to find your son’s ex-fiancée.”

“It’s okay, Kit.” Rafe fought the urge to move closer to her, to take her hand.

“I never apologized to them for breaking our engagement.”

“There’s no need,” he said tightly. His shirt collar suddenly seemed to choke him. He ran a finger beneath the neck of his cotton polo shirt.

She nodded, but he could see she didn’t agree. His mom had handled it better than he might’ve expected, Rafe admitted, though he knew he’d get the third degree once she could talk to him alone. At least he could reassure her that he and Kit weren’t picking up where they’d left off, that this was strictly business. He’d had all the heartbreak he needed for one lifetime.

Kit rode beside him quietly. So quietly that he could hear the tall grass swish against the horses’ bellies. Crows squawked and squirrels chattered in the grove of trees to their left. The fecund smells of horseflesh and leather gave way to the fresher scents of clean air and loamy earth. June sunshine buffed Sugar’s coat to spun gold.

Rafe shifted in his saddle to peer into Kit’s face. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I feel badly. I never spoke to them at all after…. After.”

“That was between you and me.”

“Your mom probably doesn’t see it that way.”

“Probably not,” he admitted, “but you weren’t engaged to her.”

Her lips twisted. “True.”

“Let it go, Kit. You’ve got enough to worry about.”

The smile she gave him was so forced that it knotted up his gut. “All right.”

He’d always wanted what his parents had, that sharing partnership, friends and lovers, trust both ways. He thought he’d found it with Kit, but she’d never been able to fully commit, at least not to him.

In the barn, drawn by the past and the urge to kiss her senseless, he’d managed to keep his hands to himself. That’s what he had to do until they found her crazy sister.

He thumbed a bead of sweat from his upper lip. Right. No problem.

The horse was warm and solid beneath her. The fresh air and sunshine should’ve cleared away the haze of desire, but Kit’s body vibrated from Rafe’s touch. She could still feel the imprint of his hand on her leg, wanted to feel his touch all over. The thought of him touching her, kissing her because he wanted to, not because someone was watching, was enough to cause a fine sweat to break across her skin.

How could she go from her anger of less than two hours ago to this craving for him? His words at breakfast echoed in her mind.

I think you just couldn’t stand to give up some of that responsibility. Because if you did, you’d have to give up the guilt you feel over your mom’s death. And if you did
give it up, who’d take care of Liz? Who’d be there to mother her? Your mom’s death wasn’t your fault, Kit.

She rolled her shoulders. It was unease and not anger that skimmed through her. It was true Kit had stepped in as a mother to her sister when their mom had died; she’d realized that years ago, but who else was going to do it? Kit was responsible for their mom being gone. She was the oldest child; it was her duty.