The rest of the afternoon was spent with little talking, both exhausted from their emotional confessions. The words, once out, could not be taken back. The shame and anger that had choked her for so long was still there, but Eleanor felt freer having shared, as though holding onto the negative emotions had given them weight. Rafe spoke, interrupting her thoughts and drawing her attention.

“I’m so glad you told me your family history. I loved hearing about this beautiful manor house.”

“You know, I’ve had an offer to sell Bellamy House,” she said, as they sat in the study. “Philip Hayden of Hayden Development Company wants to turn it into a luxury hotel.”

Shocked, Rafe whipped his head around toward her voice, wishing for the millionth time he could see her face. “No!” he said vehemently, “You’re not even considering it, are you?”

“No, no,” she assured. “I have no intention of selling my family home. Anyway, I have no idea what I would do or where I would go.”

The idea of her being alone in the world hit him and he wished to reach out to hold her in his arms again. Before he had a chance to speak, she suddenly stood, saying, “Let’s go into the kitchen and I’ll fix some dinner.”

Understanding her desire to move away from the heavy conversation, he nodded, allowing her to lead him down the hall. After another sandwich dinner, the electricity came on, but the Internet and phone lines were still out.

Rafe convinced her to take him to the living room and play the piano. At first self-conscious about her mistakes due to her hand being unable to stretch to its fullest, she soon became lost in the sound of the notes moving through her. She began to sing as she played, and he was convinced it was even more lovely than the first time he heard her.

Casting his mind back to what she had endured caused his heart to clench again. Her strength awed him. Her courage humbled him. Her determination inspired him. But, her pain had him wanting to be her champion, fighting her fights and battling back her fears. He hated that narrow-minded people had taken away her spirit and caused her to retreat.

Leaning his head back, he breathed deeply as the music flowed between the two of them, swirling around and connecting them in ways that words could not. He reached his hand up, gently touching the gauze bandage over his brow and eyes. The skin around his eyes felt less tight so he lifted the bottom edge just a bit. A sliver of light came through and he almost yelled out in excitement. The movement sent a slight pain through his forehead, but not nearly as bad as before. Looking over, he could just see Eleanor’s body rocking back and forth as the music filled the room.

Not wanting to interrupt the moment, he lowered the bandage back into place and stayed quiet. Hopefully, tomorrow I’ll be able to see her. The desire to hold her close while looking into her eyes was overwhelming, but he wanted to have his vision fully back before he surprised her.

Relaxing into the cushions again, he allowed her music to fill his soul.

* * *

Eleanor lay in bed that night, the thought of Rafe across the hall filling her mind with visions of his perfect body…and what she knew would never come to pass. Him holding her. Kissing her. Loving her.

Rolling over, punching the pillow, she used all the tricks she had learned to fall asleep. When in pain, she would empty her mind to find rest. But tonight, sleep was elusive. Flopping to her back, she stared at the ceiling, counting all of the things the fire had taken from her.

When in such a dark mood she always thought of her family, for if they were not traveling to visit her in the hospital they would still be alive. She thought of her inability to be in the sun, her burn scars too tender for the heat, therefore giving up her outdoor pleasures. She thought of giving up her career, unwilling to face the stares from others. And, she thought of her lost beauty, but knowing vanity was a sin, she tried not to dwell on her appearance.

But, tonight, it was the loss of the chance of a relationship that ate at her the most. A handsome man was just across the hall, but would never be hers. A silent tear slid down her cheeks, the loss of what she had never known causing her heart to ache.

* * *

Light pierced Rafe’s vision as he blinked in the pale morning light. He remembered pushing the gauze bandage from his eyes during the night, the material irritating. And now, the rain had stopped and the morning’s sun was beginning to peek through the clouds, filling the room with a slight glow.

Jerking up in bed, he looked around the large room, thrilled that his vision was back, thanking God for the gift of sight. He was sitting in an oak, carved-poster bed, covered with a maroon, down comforter. The tall windows to his left allowed the sunlight to shine through, matching maroon curtains pulled back with brocade ties.

A settee and chair were placed near the window. A tall chest of drawers was to the right, the oak matching the bed. Wood floors were covered with a plush, navy rug, edged in maroon leaves. Paneling covered the lower portion of the walls with ivory paint above to the ceiling. Ornately carved wood created the chair rail and crown molding. Elegantly framed pictures covered the walls, giving evidence of having awakened inside the walls of great house.

Desiring to take it all in, mother nature called instead. He hurried into the bathroom, the bright lights almost blinding. After using the facilities, he moved to the mirror, studying the cut on his brow. There was still swelling around his left eye making it difficult to open it completely. The edges of the cut were mending, but there was no doubt a small scar would remain, a reminder of his time here at Bellamy House.

Smiling, he could not wait to surprise Eleanor with his now open eyes. Quickly dressing in his jeans, he figured he’d get a clean shirt when he got back to his cottage. Stepping across the hall, he rapped his knuckles on her closed door.

“Rafe? What’s wrong?” The door flew open, Eleanor’s hair waving wildly about her head, a sleep crease down her cheek and a light blue robe hanging off her shoulder, as she jerked her eyes to his.

“Hey gorgeous,” he said, his smile wide, arms thrown out to the side. Thrilled to be able to see her, finally, his eyes devoured her face. Her porcelain complexion was pale against her dark, silky hair. Her lips were full and he imagined them as she sang, her voice pure. She was a foot shorter than he, her body slight, but definite curves hit his gaze, her robe barely covering her matching nightgown. Her eyes were the deepest brown as they met his, unfocused at first before flying open wide.

A sudden intake of breath met his ears. She held his gaze for an instant, before whirling around, presenting her back to him. “I…I thought something was wrong.”

He placed his strong hands on her shoulders, feeling them tremble beneath his touch. “Please, Eleanor, don’t be upset. I’ve been dying to see you.” He noted the burn scars on the side of her neck, from her ear down, disappearing underneath the robe.

“Why?” she choked out.

“Because…you’re special to me. Someone I want to know…spend time with. The past few days have only sparked my desire to get to know you more.”

She turned slightly, her unblemished side facing him. “I…I’m not ready for this, Rafe. I wasn’t prepared for you to see me.”

“Your scars don’t scare me, Eleanor. They’re part of you…part of what makes you an amazing woman.”

Eleanor lifted her sideways gaze to Rafe as she wrapped her arms around her waist in a protective stance. Swallowing deeply, she stared into his gorgeous face, his piercing eyes only making him more handsome. “I…I can’t do this now. I’m sorry.” With that, she stepped back into her room, closing the door and locking it with a resounding click.

* * *

Heart heavy, Rafe walked over the wet grass toward the cottage. Has it only been two days since I was last here? It seemed much longer. He knew he needed to look around, see what downed trees would need to be taken care of, but all he could think about was how things had ended with Eleanor.

He had stood at her closed door, pleading with her to talk to him. She had…from the other side of the door. Her honesty touched him.

“I’ve loved the past days with you, Rafe, but this is too much, too soon. I’m just not ready.”

He knew that to argue with her feelings of insecurity would only make things worse, so he left, vowing to her that he would give her time to accept his friendship. He stopped at the door of the cottage, his feet almost stumbling. Friendship and, hopefully, more…but she’s not ready to hear that.

Throwing open the door, he entered, breathing the familiar woodsy scent in deeply. He stripped and climbed into the shower, the hot water sluicing over his body. Finished, he looked into the mirror at the healing cut, swiping some antibiotic cream across it. Grateful to pull on clean clothes, he fixed a bowl of oatmeal, planning his day.

First, cut away the downed tree from the driveway to make it passable. He had glanced at the terrace on his way out of the house and knew that might take some help. He also needed to buy a new phone and check in with Miss Ethel and his brothers. Rinsing his bowl, he formulated his day’s plans.

* * *

Eleanor stood at a window overlooking the grounds, watching as Rafe walked through the wet grass toward his cottage. She noticed every nuance of his body. His broad shoulders, his trim waist, and his dark hair. The way his jeans fit snugly over his thighs and cupped his firm ass. The way his biceps bulged from the t-shirt. A perfect masculine specimen.

Drawing in a shaky breath, she hated the way she hid from him when he had been so excited to have his vision back. Dropping the heavy drapes, she turned from the window. But I need time…time to get used to him. He wants to become a friend and I want so much more.

Walking down the stairs, she entered the kitchen and, soon, with her fingers wrapped around a cup of strong coffee, her cold hands began warming. After only two days of his company, the room seemed too quiet, too empty. Sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal, she sighed, the loneliness no longer comforting but, instead, threatening to choke her.

In the distance, she heard the familiar sound of a chainsaw and jumped up to see what he was doing. Moving through the foyer she opened the front door and spied him in the driveway, his truck nearby while he sawed the downed tree. Even at a distance, she could see the muscles in his arms and back move as he bent and flexed in his task.

Maybe…maybe…I could learn to have him look at me. Maybe a friendship with him would be okay. At least I’d have him in my life. Sucking in a deep breath, she determined to approach him when he finished the driveway, to ask him to come to the house for lunch.

She watched as he moved the logs to the side of the drive and placed the saw in the bed of his truck. But, instead of getting in and driving back to the cottage, he started the truck and headed down the drive until he was out of sight. Gone.

Her knees buckled and she landed in a heap at her front door, a sob wrenching from her chest. She had thought that him seeing her, with all her scars, would be the worst thing that could happen, but the idea of him leaving caused her heart to ache in a way she had not felt in a long time.

It was all too much. The emotional roller coaster she had been on for the past few days careened off the tracks. With no strength left she slumped over, her arms wrapping around her bent knees, the sob coming from deep within. She cried aloud, knowing there was no one to hear her pain.