CHAPTER 10
It felt good to beat on something. Even if it was only a nail. To prevent himself beating on something, or someone else, Rafe had closed himself inside the east-wing bedroom. The look in his eye had warned any and all of his men to keep their distance—if they wanted to keep their teeth.
The sounds of construction bumped against the walls, a sound just violent enough to suit his black mood. Rafe ignored the nail gun at his disposal and beat in nails with hammer and muscle. Every new stud that he secured with nails and a swing of his arm was Joe Dolin’s face.
When the door opened behind him, Rafe bared his teeth without looking around. “Get the hell out. Stay out or you’re fired.”
“Go ahead and fire me.” Regan slammed the door at her back. “Then I can say what I have to say to you without damaging our professional relationship.”
He looked over his shoulder now, briefly. She’d changed, he noted. Not just the slacks, but everything—shirt, blazer, jewelry. From her hair to her shoes, she was neat as a pin.
But he remembered exactly how she’d looked, frazzled, pale, with blood on her clothes.
“You don’t want to be here right now.” He set another nail, shot it home.
“You couldn’t be more accurate on that, MacKade, but I’m here.”
She’d had to shower first, had to scrub herself everywhere and throw out every stitch she’d been wearing when Joe touched her. But she was steady again, and ready to deal with Rafe MacKade.
“I want to know what the hell is wrong with you.”
If he told her, she was liable to laugh in his face. And that, he was dead sure, would push him over that final edge.
“I’m busy, Regan. Weather’s cost me a full day.”
“Don’t hand me that. Look at me when I’m talking to you, damn it.” When he didn’t, just kept battering nails into wood, she fisted her hands on her hips. “Why did you leave Devin’s office that way? Just leave?”
“I had things to do.”
To illustrate her opinion of that, she kicked at a toolbox. “I suppose I’m to thank you now for fixing my door.”
“I’ll bill you.”
“Why are you mad at me?” she demanded. “I didn’t do anything to—”
Her breath sucked in as the hammer sailed across the room and crashed into a newly framed wall.
“No, you didn’t do a damn thing. You just got yourself tossed around, bruised, bloodied up and damn near raped. Why the hell should that bother me?”
Someone had to be calm, she told herself. Obviously, the way his eyes were glowing, it was going to have to be her. “I know you’re upset about what happened.”
“Yeah, I’m upset.” He picked up the toolbox, heaved it, because it made more sense than throwing her around. Metal and steel crashed and scattered like small bombs. “I’m just a little upset. Now get out.”
“I won’t.” Instead she angled her chin. “Go ahead, big guy, throw something else. When you’ve got it out of your system, we’ll have a civilized conversation.”
“You’d better get it through that thick head that there’s nothing civilized about me.”
“Oh, that’s coming through loud and clear,” she tossed back. “What’s next? You want to take a shot at me? That should prove you’re a bigger man than Joe Dolin.”
His eyes went black. For an instant, a heartbeat, she thought she saw hurt mixed with the rage. And it shamed her. “I’m sorry.” Fumbling, she lifted her hands. “You didn’t deserve that. I didn’t mean that.”
Now there was only rage, viciously controlled. “You usually say what you mean.” He held up a hand before she could speak again. “You want to have a conversation, fine. We’ll have a damn conversation.”
He strode to the door, simmering when she flinched. Yanking it open, he bellowed to every corner of the rambling house. “Out! Everybody out, now!”
He slammed the door again, satisfied by the scramble of feet and the clatter of tools.
“There’s no need for the work to stop,” she began. “I’m sure this will only take a few minutes.”
“Sometimes it just can’t be your way.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“No, I don’t guess you do.” Disgusted, he hauled open the door again. “Somebody give me a damn cigarette,” he shouted. But as there was no one brave enough to approach, he ended up slamming the door again.
Regan watched, quietly fascinated, while he paced and swore. His shirt was shoved up to the elbows, a tool belt was slung at his hips like a holster. He’d wrapped a bandanna around his forehead to catch the sweat. He looked, she thought, like a bandit who would just as soon kill as steal.
And it was certainly ridiculous to be aroused.
“I could make coffee,” she began, then let out a breath at the razor-edged look he shot her. “Maybe not. Rafe—”
“Just shut up.”
Her back jammed straight as a poker. “I don’t care to be spoken to that way.”
“Get used to it. I’ve held back long enough with you.”
“Held back?” Her eyes went wide. If he hadn’t looked like a maniac, she might have laughed. “You’ve been holding back? I’d like to see what you consider cutting loose.”
“You’re about to.” He gnawed off the words like stringy meat from a bone. “You’re ticked off that I left? Well, now you’re going to be treated to what would have happened if I’d stayed.”
“Don’t you touch me.” Her arms shot up, hands fisted like those of a boxer ready to spar. “Don’t you dare.”
Eyes simmering, he closed a hand over her fist and used his leverage to push her back to the door. “Same goes, darling. I gave you a chance to walk, you didn’t take it.”
“Don’t call me darling in that tone of voice.”
The way his lips peeled back, she wouldn’t have been surprised to see fangs. “God, you’re a piece of work.” He tossed her hand down and walked away, because it was safer for both of them. “You want to know why I left. That’s the big, burning question, isn’t it? That’s what had you coming over here? Coming to me?”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t come to me this morning when he threatened you. You didn’t come to me when he hurt you.” And that, Rafe thought, however it devastated him, was that.
“I had to tell Devin,” she began.
“Yeah. You had to tell Devin.” Bitterly calm now, he turned back. “You know what I heard in that nice and detailed statement you made, Regan? Dolin came into your place this morning, just like I thought he would.”
“And I handled it,” she countered. “Just like I told you I would.”
“Sure, you’re great at handling things. He threatened you. He scared you.”
“Yes, all right, he scared me.” And she was scared now, too, she realized, of where this was leading. “That’s why I called Devin.”
“But not me. You went down to Devin’s office, filed your charges.”
“Yes, of course. I wanted Joe arrested.”
“Nice and tidy. Then you went grocery shopping.”
“I…” She linked her hands together, pulled them apart. “I thought—I knew Cassie was going to be upset, and I wanted… I just thought if I fixed a meal it would make us both feel better.”
“And in all that time, going to Devin’s, to the market, walking there and back, you never stopped to call me. It never even occurred to you, did it?”
“I was—” She opened her mouth, closed it again. “All right, yes. It was my first reaction, but I calmed down and decided against it.”
“You calmed down?”
“Yes, I realized it was my problem, and my responsibility to handle it.”
Her simple honesty sliced through him like a blade. He could almost see himself split in half, one part rage, one part misery. “And after he had you, after he had his hands on you, and hurt you, tried to—”
He couldn’t say it. If he did, he’d fall to pieces.
“You didn’t think to call me then, either. I only heard it from Shane because he was in with Devin when the call came through, and he figured I’d be interested.”
Somehow, she realized, she had hurt him. She’d never meant to. Hadn’t known he could be hurt. “Rafe, I wasn’t thinking at all.” She started forward, stopped, knowing it would do no good to go farther. “I was numb. By the time I could really think again, I was in Devin’s office. It all happened so fast,” she said hurriedly, desperate now to make him see. To understand. “And part of the time it seemed as if I wasn’t really there at all.”
“You were handling it.”
“I had to. It wouldn’t have done any good to fall apart.”
“You’re real good at keeping yourself together.” He walked over, picked up the hammer. “All by yourself.”
“I have to be. I expect myself to be, because—”
“You don’t want to be like your mother,” he finished for her.
It sounded so callous, and so foolish. “All right, yes, that’s partially true. It’s important for me to be a certain way, but that really doesn’t apply to this. If I didn’t call you, it was only because…”
“You didn’t need me.” His eyes were level, and no longer hot. He had very little heat left inside him. “You don’t need me.”
A new kind of panic was twisting through her. “That’s not true.”
“Oh, the sex is great.” He smiled then, coolly, humorlessly. “That’s a need we handle together real well. It’s my problem that I let it get personal. I won’t make the mistake again.”
“It’s not about sex.”
“Sure it is.” He plucked a nail out of his pouch, set it in place. “It’s been about sex right from the get-go. That’s all we’ve got. It’s plenty.” He rammed the nail home. “You know where to find me when you’ve got the itch.”
The blood drained from her cheeks and froze around her heart. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”
“Your rules, darling. Why complicate a good thing, right?”
“I don’t want things to be this way between us, Rafe.”
“Well, now I do. Take it or leave it.” He rammed another nail into wood. She wasn’t going to get the chance to hurt him again, he told himself. No woman hurt him like this.
She opened her mouth, primed to tell him she’d leave it. Leave him. And couldn’t. Tears burned in her eyes, in her throat. Could there have been a worse possible time, she wondered, for her to realize she was in love with him?
“Is that the way you really feel?”
“I try to say what I mean, too.”
Unwilling to humiliate herself, she swallowed the tears. “And all this is because you’re angry about what happened. About how I dealt with it.”
“Let’s just say it made everything clear. You don’t want to clutter up your life, right?”
“No, I—”
“Hell, neither do I. Call it ego—I’ve got one. I didn’t like you running to my brother instead of me. Like you said, I’ve got it out of my system. We can just go back to the way things were. The way things are.”
She hadn’t realized how much she could prefer that lethal temper over this calculated disinterest. “I’m not sure that’s possible. I can’t give you an answer right at the moment.”
“You mull it over, Regan. You do that real well, too.”
“Would you rather—” She pressed a hand to her lips, waited until she could steady her voice. “If you’d rather suspend our business relationship, I can give you the names of some other dealers in the area.”
“No reason for that. I’m already behind.” When he turned to her, all he saw was that her eyes were dry, her face was composed. “I can take shipment on this room in about a week, if you’ve got a problem with storage.”
“That’ll be fine. I’ll make the arrangements.” She turned and reached blindly for the doorknob. Terrified she’d crumble, she walked away quickly. She didn’t start to run until she was outside, with the wind slapping her wet cheeks.
When he heard the door close below, Rafe sat down on the floor. At the sound of weeping shimmering in the air, he rubbed his hands hard over his face.
“I know just how you feel,” he muttered.
It was the first time in his checkered career that anyone had managed to break his heart. His only solace was that he’d make damn sure it was the last.
* * *
The predicted ice storm raged through, glazing the snow, turning the streets to glass. It was days before the temperature inched up enough to soften it. Each night the thermometer would plunge again, hardening and slickening every coated surface.
It didn’t mean a damn thing to Rafe. The lousy weather gave him an excuse to stay just where he was, work twenty out of every twenty-four hours. With every nail he hammered, every wall he sanded, the house became more his.
When he couldn’t sleep, even after exhausting himself, he wandered the house with the other ghosts.
He was too busy to think about Regan. Or so he tried to convince himself.
Whenever he did, whenever she snuck through his well-fortified defenses, he just worked harder, longer.
“You look a little ragged, pal.” Devin lit a cigarette and watched Rafe hammer freshly painted baseboard into place. “Remember that book—Dorian Gray? The way it’s starting to look, you’re the picture in the closet, and this house is old Dorian.”
“Pick up a hammer, or beat it.”
Instead, Devin crouched, ran a fingertip over the wide, carved trim. “Sure is pretty as a picture. What’d you call this color?”
“Rose dust.” He framed the words like a dare.
“Yep, sure is pretty.” Devin used an empty coffee can as an ashtray. “If you’re into pink.”
Rafe spared him a look. “You trying to start something?”
“Nope, just making conversation. They transferred Joe from the hospital today.”
Rafe’s eyes iced over before he turned away. “None of my business.”
“He didn’t lose his eye,” Devin went on easily. “Be wearing a patch for a while though. They can’t tell yet if there’ll be permanent damage.”
“She should have aimed between his legs.”
“Yeah, too bad about that. Well, I thought you’d want to know, he pleaded guilty to the B and E, the assault, on advice of counsel. They dumped the attempted rape charges to get the guilty plea and avoid trial, but he’s not going to pass Go.”
Rafe didn’t want to care. “How long?”
“My guess is three, solid. Before you say it’s not enough, I’m going to the sentencing tomorrow myself, and adding weight. When he’s up for parole, in a year or so, I’ll go back and add more.”
“I said it’s none of my business.” Rafe toed in the last piece of baseboard. “How’s Cassie holding up?”
“Okay, I guess. Jared’s pushing through the divorce. With the spousal abuse and adultery, it won’t take the usual year. Joe’s not in much of a position to contest it. The quicker it’s done, the quicker she and the kids can get on with things.”
Thoughtfully he tapped his cigarette out in the can. “Aren’t you going to ask how Regan’s holding up?”
“No.”
“Well, I’ll tell you.” Ignoring Rafe’s snarl, Devin folded his legs and sat. “She doesn’t look like she’s been getting a lot of sleep, if you ask me.”
“I didn’t.”
“Ed says she hasn’t been coming in for lunch, so I guess her appetite’s off, too. I could figure that experience with Joe shook her up enough to interfere with her sleeping and eating. But I got a hunch it’s something else.”
“She’ll handle it. She’s good at taking care of herself.”
“Good thing, too. Odds are, if Joe had managed to drag her inside that day, somebody would’ve seen the door quick enough, heard the ruckus. Still, he could’ve done a lot of damage in a short time.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Rafe shot out. “Do you think I don’t know what he could have done to her?”
“Yeah, I think you know it. I think it’s eating at you, and I’m sorry. Are you ready to listen to me?”
“No.”
But there wasn’t any heat behind the denial, so Devin prepared to say his piece. “Witnesses in the diner said they thought she was drunk at first when she came in, the way she was walking. She’d have passed out if Ed hadn’t gotten her down first.”
“I don’t need to hear this.”
“Yeah,” Devin murmured, watching Rafe’s knuckles whiten on the hilt of the hammer, “you do. When I got to her, Rafe, she was in shock. Are you getting this? Her pupils were as narrow as the point of one of those nails. I was set to have her taken into Emergency, but she pulled herself together. I watched her do it. It was impressive.”
“So she’s tough.” The image projecting into his mind scraped him raw. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Okay. I don’t figure you were in any shape to see the way she looked at you when you walked into my office. She’d pulled herself together because she had to, because that’s the way she’s made, I guess. Then you walked in. A man could go his whole life without having a woman look at him the way she looked at you.”
“She doesn’t need me.”
“That’s bull. You may be stupid, but you should know that.”
“I know I was stupid enough to let her matter. To let what she thought of me, what she wanted from me, matter. I’m not doing it again.” He rose, hooked his hammer in his tool belt. “I don’t need her, either.”
With a sigh, Devin unfolded himself and stood. “You’re cross-eyed in love with her.”
“No, I’m not. I got soft on her for a while, then I got over it.”
Devin pursed his lips. There was one quick, potentially painful way to handle this. “You’re sure?”
“I just said so, didn’t I?”
“Good.” Devin smiled. “That clears the way. When I thought you had a thing for her, I didn’t want to muscle in. Since you don’t, I’ll go see if I can…stimulate her appetite.”
He was expecting the punch, and took the fist on the jaw philosophically. It was always satisfying to make a point. He lifted a hand, wiggled his jaw, mildly relieved it wasn’t broken.
“Yeah, I can see how you got over it.”
“I ought to hit you again,” Rafe said between his teeth. It was infuriating, humiliating, to know how neatly he’d been conned.
“I wouldn’t. That one was free.” Cautious, Devin moved his jaw again. “Damn, Rafe, you’ve still got a nice right jab.”
Almost amused, Rafe flexed his aching fingers. “You’ve still got a face like a rock. You son of a bitch.”
“I love you, too.” Cheered, Devin draped an arm over his brother’s shoulders. “Feel better now?”
“No.” Then he paused. “Maybe.”
“You want to go find her and straighten this mess out?”
“I’m not crawling after some woman,” Rafe mumbled.
You will, Devin thought. Sooner or later. “Well then, I got the night off. Want to get drunk and disorderly?”
“Yeah.” They walked into the hall, started down the steps. “Why don’t I meet you at the tavern? Ten o’clock.”
“Suits me. I’ll see if I can round up Shane and Jared.”
“Just like old times. When Duff sees us coming, it’ll scare the—” Rafe broke off, felt his heart skip. Regan stood straight-backed and cool-eyed at the base of the stairs.
“I’ve got your delivery.” She’d worked very hard on being able to speak without inflection. “Your message said you’d be ready for it by three.”
“Just.” His stomach quivered, infuriating him. “You can have it hauled up.”
“All right. Hello, Devin.”
“Hello, Regan. I’m just on my way out. See you tonight, Rafe.”
“Yeah.” Rafe kept his eyes on Regan’s as he came down the last few steps. “Have any trouble on the roads?”
“No. They’re mostly clear now.” She wondered that he couldn’t see her heart bleeding. “I was able to get that feather mattress you wanted for the four-poster. I’ll be happy to set it up so you can be sure you want to go with it.”
“Appreciate it. I’ll get out of your way. I’ve got—” Nothing, he realized. He had nothing. “Work,” he said finally. “Give a yell when you’re ready. I’ll have your check.”
She wanted to say something, anything, but he was already walking away. Squaring her shoulders, she went back to the door to instruct the movers.
* * *
It was nearly five when she finished arranging things exactly as she wanted them. She hadn’t noticed the quiet that drifted in to replace the steady bang and buzz of labor. But as the light changed, she switched on the rose-patterned globe lamp by the button-backed chair she’d angled toward the fireplace.
There was no mantel there yet, no flames crackling. Faintly the scent of paint stirred in the air. But she thought the room was waiting to be lived in.
And the scent of roses hung like tears in the air.
A wedding-ring quilt, she mused, running her hand over one of the posts of the bed. A few pillows edged with lace to match the canopy that would drape overhead. A cedar chest, a hope chest, at the foot of the bed, filled with sweet-smelling linens and net bags of lavender sachet.
Yes, she thought, those would be just the right touches to finish it off. Perhaps some Irish lace at the windows, a silver-backed brush for the vanity.
It would be beautiful. It would be perfect.
She wished to God she’d never seen the room, the house, or Rafe MacKade.
He stood in the doorway, saying nothing, watching her move through the room, as graceful as any ghost.
Then her back stiffened. She turned and faced him. Seconds passed, though it could have been eons for both of them.
“I was just finishing up,” she managed to say.
“So I see.” He stayed where he was, tore his gaze from hers and scanned the room. “It looks terrific.”
“I have some tintypes and antique silver frames. I think they’d add a nice touch to the mantel when it’s in place.”
“Great.”
The strain of manners was tearing at her stomach. “I noticed you’ve made a lot of progress on the next bedroom.”
“It’s coming along. I’ve got a couple more ready for drywall.”
“You work fast.”
“Yeah, that’s what they always say.” He pulled a check out of his pocket, stepped forward. “Payment on delivery.”
“Thank you.” Very deliberately, she opened the purse she’d set on a table, slipped the check inside. And damned him to hell. “I’ll be going, then,” she said briskly. She turned back and bumped solidly into him. “Excuse me.” She took a step around. He shifted, blocked her. Made her heart pound like a drum. “You’re in my way.”
“That’s right.” And since he was, he took a good long look. “You look lousy.”
“Thank you so much.”
“You’ve got shadows under your eyes.”
So much for cosmetics, she thought in disgust. “It’s been a long day. I’m tired.”
“How come you haven’t been eating over at Ed’s?”
She wondered why she’d ever thought she liked small towns. “Despite what you and the Antietam grapevine might think, what I do on my lunch hour is my business.”
“Dolin’s locked up. He’s not going to bother you again.”
“I’m not afraid of Joe Dolin.” She tossed back her hair, proud of her own bravado. “I’m thinking about buying a gun.”
“Think again.”
She hadn’t really thought of it the first time, but it grated to have him dictate to her. “That’s right, you’re the only one who can defend himself, or anyone else. Back off, MacKade. I’m finished here.”
When he grabbed her arm, she swung out without thinking. Her hand cracked against his cheek before she could stop it. Appalled, she stumbled back.
“Now look what you’ve made me do.” Enraged and close to tears, she tossed down her purse. “I can’t believe you goaded me into that. I’ve never struck anyone in my life.”
“You did a pretty good job on your debut.” Watching her, he ran his tongue over the inside of his stinging cheek. “You want to put your shoulder into it next time. Not much of a crack if you swing from the wrist.”
“There won’t be a next time. Unlike you, I don’t have to hit people to make a point.” She took a steadying breath. “I apologize.”
“If you head for the door again, I’m going to get in your way again, and we’re going to start this all over.”
“All right.” She left her purse where it lay. “Obviously there’s something you want to say.”
“If you keep aiming that chin at me, you’re going to make me mad. I’m being civilized, asking how you are. Civilized is how you like it, isn’t it?”
“I’m fine.” She bit the words off. “And how are you?”
“Good enough. You want some coffee, a beer?”
“No, thank you so much.” Who the hell was this man, she thought, making uselessly polite conversation while her insides tangled into dozens of frayed knots? “I don’t want coffee or beer.”
“What do you want, Regan?”
Now she recognized him. It took only that sharp, impatient tone to bring him back. And to make her yearn. “I want you to leave me alone.”
He said nothing at all, just stepped out of her way.
Once more she picked up her purse. Once more she set it down again. “That’s not true.” The hell with her pride, with sense, even with her heart. It couldn’t be any more battered than it already was.
“You’d never have made it to the door,” he said quietly. “You probably knew that.”
“I don’t know anything except I’m tired of fighting with you.”
“I’m not fighting. I’m waiting.”
She nodded, sure she understood. If it was all he was willing to give her now, she would accept that. And she would make it enough. She stepped out of her shoes, unbuttoned her blazer.
“What are you doing?”
“Answering your ultimatum of last week.” She tossed the blazer on the chair and unbuttoned her blouse. “You said take it or leave it. I’m taking it.”