it?”
Rafe returned the pressure. “Try and stop me.”
When they got to her car, they found that her meter had expired over an hour ago. They also found a parking ticket under the wiper blade.
“Thank heavens I know a good lawyer,” she said, handing the ticket to him.
He tucked it into his jacket pocket, then backed her up against the hood, his eyes gleaming with laughter. “Are you sure you can afford my fee?”
Between the hot metal behind her and the hard male against her belly, Jeannie was stuck. And happily so. As she lifted her face to smile back at him, all the grief and the heartache of the last eleven years dissolved like mist under the warmth of the sun. She knew then that she loved him. That she’d never stopped loving him. She knew, too, that she would stay in town tonight if he would only ask her again.
She tilted her head in age-old invitation and answered his challenge with a throaty, “If Ican’t afford it, I’m sure we can work something out.”
Rafe stepped back, reading between the lines but determined to do it right this time around. He wanted to make love to her. Long, slow, drive-her-out-of-her-mind love. But he didn’t want her watching the clock, worrying about getting home to Tony the way she used to worry about getting back to the house before Big Tom discovered she was gone. And he knew now that what he felt for her would keep.
“Up you go.” He opened the car door and gave her a hand as she climbed in.
She rolled the window down to say good-bye and saw the troubled expression he wore. “What’s the matter?”
“I just realized I don’t even know my son’s full name.”
“Anthony Thomas.”
Rafe’s heart spread like an eagle’s wings within his chest. “Anthony for my father?”
Jeannie nodded, sensing and sharing his soaring jubilation. “And Thomas for mine.”
A barrio church bell began ringing the three-o’clock Angelus, heralding her next revelation.
“I had Tony baptized in Houston,” she said softly.
To put it mildly, he was stunned. “But you’re not a Catholic.”
“Oh, yes, I am.”
“Since when?”
Her eyes warmed to his. “Since I took instructions while I was staying with my aunt.”
Caution wagged a finger in the face of Rafe’s joy. “And how did Tom the Baptist react to that?”
Jeannie was tempted to tell him that he’d sounded just like Big Tom then, but she hated to end such a promising day on such a sour note. “All that matters now is how much he loved Tony.”
He smiled in grim resignation. “You’re right.”
“See you Sunday,” she said, as she turned the key in the ignition.
Rafe delayed her departure by cupping her neck and drawing her head through the window, claiming her mouth in a kiss that made her heart dance a fandango. Jeannie’s hand crept up to cradle his jaw, her fingers detaining him in return.
The church bell chimed its last when he finally drew back with a whispered.
“Vaya con Dios.”
Nine
“If you were such a good friend of Grandpa’s, how come you never came to see him when he was sick?”
Not the sort of greeting he’d expected from his own son, Rafe thought ruefully as he carried the saddle he’d brought to Bolero with him into the barn. And definitely not a good way to start the week. Still, it was a fair question and it deserved an honest answer.
First, though, he set his saddle, horn down, on the floor. Then he straightened and looked at Tony, who had followed him into the barn but had stopped just short of stepping into the empty stall where Jeannie had suggested he store his riding gear. And finally he gave that tough little cuss the answer he was waiting for. “Because nobody told me Big Tom was sick.”
“You could’ve called.” The boy’s blue eyes studied him with open defiance, and his jaw was set in a small, rebellious line that the man recognized only too well.
Rafe raked an impatient hand through his hair, wondering where he should go from there. No sooner had he
Rafe returned the pressure. “Try and stop me.”
When they got to her car, they found that her meter had expired over an hour ago. They also found a parking ticket under the wiper blade.
“Thank heavens I know a good lawyer,” she said, handing the ticket to him.
He tucked it into his jacket pocket, then backed her up against the hood, his eyes gleaming with laughter. “Are you sure you can afford my fee?”
Between the hot metal behind her and the hard male against her belly, Jeannie was stuck. And happily so. As she lifted her face to smile back at him, all the grief and the heartache of the last eleven years dissolved like mist under the warmth of the sun. She knew then that she loved him. That she’d never stopped loving him. She knew, too, that she would stay in town tonight if he would only ask her again.
She tilted her head in age-old invitation and answered his challenge with a throaty, “If Ican’t afford it, I’m sure we can work something out.”
Rafe stepped back, reading between the lines but determined to do it right this time around. He wanted to make love to her. Long, slow, drive-her-out-of-her-mind love. But he didn’t want her watching the clock, worrying about getting home to Tony the way she used to worry about getting back to the house before Big Tom discovered she was gone. And he knew now that what he felt for her would keep.
“Up you go.” He opened the car door and gave her a hand as she climbed in.
She rolled the window down to say good-bye and saw the troubled expression he wore. “What’s the matter?”
“I just realized I don’t even know my son’s full name.”
“Anthony Thomas.”
Rafe’s heart spread like an eagle’s wings within his chest. “Anthony for my father?”
Jeannie nodded, sensing and sharing his soaring jubilation. “And Thomas for mine.”
A barrio church bell began ringing the three-o’clock Angelus, heralding her next revelation.
“I had Tony baptized in Houston,” she said softly.
To put it mildly, he was stunned. “But you’re not a Catholic.”
“Oh, yes, I am.”
“Since when?”
Her eyes warmed to his. “Since I took instructions while I was staying with my aunt.”
Caution wagged a finger in the face of Rafe’s joy. “And how did Tom the Baptist react to that?”
Jeannie was tempted to tell him that he’d sounded just like Big Tom then, but she hated to end such a promising day on such a sour note. “All that matters now is how much he loved Tony.”
He smiled in grim resignation. “You’re right.”
“See you Sunday,” she said, as she turned the key in the ignition.
Rafe delayed her departure by cupping her neck and drawing her head through the window, claiming her mouth in a kiss that made her heart dance a fandango. Jeannie’s hand crept up to cradle his jaw, her fingers detaining him in return.
The church bell chimed its last when he finally drew back with a whispered.
“Vaya con Dios.”
Nine
“If you were such a good friend of Grandpa’s, how come you never came to see him when he was sick?”
Not the sort of greeting he’d expected from his own son, Rafe thought ruefully as he carried the saddle he’d brought to Bolero with him into the barn. And definitely not a good way to start the week. Still, it was a fair question and it deserved an honest answer.
First, though, he set his saddle, horn down, on the floor. Then he straightened and looked at Tony, who had followed him into the barn but had stopped just short of stepping into the empty stall where Jeannie had suggested he store his riding gear. And finally he gave that tough little cuss the answer he was waiting for. “Because nobody told me Big Tom was sick.”
“You could’ve called.” The boy’s blue eyes studied him with open defiance, and his jaw was set in a small, rebellious line that the man recognized only too well.
Rafe raked an impatient hand through his hair, wondering where he should go from there. No sooner had he
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