12. Rafferty

12

RAFFERTY

B y the time Sally and Arabella were done talking, it was already dark outside. Jacob suggested we stay overnight and drive home in the morning. The night before, after Arabella had asked me to join her, I’d called my nurse and instructed her to handle what she could without me and to reschedule the rest. Arabella had done the same. Thus, we happily agreed. It was only afterward that I wondered if they had more than one guest room.

When Sally mentioned there was only one available, but the couch was comfortable, Arabella quickly answered. “We’ll share a room.”

All right then.

If she didn’t have any worries about sharing a bed, I sure didn’t either. Pop and Mama had taught me never to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I was merely thankful for my good fortune. The thought of being near her throughout the night, this time in a warm, cozy bed, made my head swim. I really needed to keep myself in check, but it might be an impossible task.

Before we’d arrived, Sally had cooked up a pan of lasagna. The scent of tomatoes, herbs, and garlic as it warmed in their cozy kitchen made my stomach growl.

Sally carried the dish of lasagna to the table while Arabella brought in a Caesar salad and chunks of warm, crusty bread. The women looked so much alike. It was almost startling. One would never guess that Sally had struggled with drug addiction. Her face was virtually unlined, and her hair was thick and shiny. If she dyed it, I sure couldn’t tell—a classic beauty, just like her daughter.

Jacob said a prayer before we ate, thanking the Lord for this miraculous turn of events and for bringing us all safely back together.

“All right,” Sally announced when we’d all said our amens. “Dig in before it gets cold!”

We passed the dish of lasagna around the table, each of us helping ourselves to a generous portion.

“Tell me about school,” Arabella said to her brothers. “Daniel, you’re premed, right? Rafferty and I were the same.” She explained that she’d gone to veterinarian school while I’d studied people medicine.

“Yes, I’m graduating this spring,” Daniel said. “And hoping to get into med school for next fall.”

“His MCAT scores were very good,” Sally said, sounding proud.

“Do you have your eye on where you want to go?” I asked.

“Anywhere that will take me,” Daniel said.

“Wherever it is, I hope it won’t be too far away,” Sally said.

“I’m in film and drama, myself,” Michael said. “Not quite the noble cause of saving lives, but it has its moments.”

“Hey, someone’s got to make those medical dramas look realistic,” I said.

“Right?” Michael asked, grinning. “How ironic would it be if I made a show about doctors when I’m the only man in this family who didn’t study medicine?”

“Michael takes after our mother,” Daniel said graciously. “They’re artists and storytellers. Which the world will always need.”

“If only to help us make sense of the chaos,” Sally said softly.

Arabella asked Sally to tell her more about her theater. Sally lit up, describing how she’d built it from nothing, starting out in a run-down building in downtown Missoula with only forty-nine seats. “Now we have two stages with several hundred seats. We’re a nonprofit, of course, but we’re doing well because of several wealthy donors.”

“And sold-out shows,” Jacob said.

“Mom’s kind of famous in the theater community,” Michael said. “All my friends at school worship her.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Sally said. “But thank you.”

“I’d love to see a show sometime,” Arabella said. “Do you act or direct or both?”

“Both. Depending on the project. I enjoy all of it equally, so it’s a joy no matter what I’m doing. The Missoula Playhouse has been my passion for twenty years. Other than this lot, obviously.” She gestured around the table.

Jacob gave his wife a fond smile before glancing over at me. “So, Rafferty, tell me about your practice. I’m sure it’s different than my experience in a big hospital.”

I nodded while swallowing a piece of the crusty bread. “Yeah, it’s a bit of everything, and it keeps me on my toes. A lot less…specialized than what you’re doing, obviously.”

Jacob took a moment to answer, slicing into his lasagna thoughtfully. “In a way, yes. Oncology is very focused, with a lot of protocol and endless testing. A lot of heartbreak and a lot of triumphs. I can’t imagine doing anything else, but it can wear on me sometimes. Still, the advances I’ve seen in my career are optimistic.”

We fell into an easy conversation about the challenges of medicine, the differences between big hospital work and the day-to-day of a small practice. Jacob’s dedication to his patients was clear, the same kind I felt for the people of Bluefern. Sally and the boys chimed in occasionally, sharing stories of Jacob’s late nights and the ways he tried to balance it all with family life.

The dialogue turned to Arabella’s veterinarian practice. She had us all howling over a recent story that involved her and an ornery cow.

The dynamic between the brothers and their parents reminded me very much of my own family. Not quite as loud, of course, but with the same good-natured ribbing I enjoyed with my brothers. And the same unconditional love that flowed among them all.

Toward the end of the meal, Arabella’s hand found mine under the table. I glanced over at her, thrilled to feel her soft hand in mine. Better than that, though, was the look of peace and contentment on her face. This was the family she’d wanted.

I hoped she’d still find mine appealing. Because I’d decided over the last few days, I was going to do whatever I could to get Arabella Collins to fall in love with me and meet me at the church to exchange wedding vows. One way or another.

The next morning, after a breakfast of eggs and pancakes, the entire family walked us out to my vehicle. Arabella’s brothers were leaving to return to school soon after we left, but they’d wanted to say goodbye to their sister first.

After hugs and promises of more visits, Arabella and I headed for home. As we pulled onto the highway, the Montana landscape stretched out in front of us, endless and breathtaking. Snow-dusted peaks framed the horizon, and pine forests sprawled under the open sky, vast and deep green against the winter sunlight. Arabella remained quiet, just staring out the window, her fingers absentmindedly moving to the beat of the music on the radio. I glanced over at her, noticing again that a soft peace seemed to have settled over her, as though she’d shed an old weight she’d been carrying for years.

We’d shared a bed last night, talking a little while holding hands under the covers before falling asleep. I didn’t dare get too close to her for fear of my base instincts overriding my dedication to being a perfect gentleman. Fortunately, I’d been tired from the day’s activities and had soon fallen into a dreamless sleep.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Blessed. Regretful. Happy. Sad. Mostly, grateful. I have a second chance with my mother, and now I have two brothers. Jacob’s special, don’t you think?”

I nodded, keeping my gaze on the road. “Very much so. He’s taken good care of his family. Gave your mother her dream job.”

“And that beautiful home.”

“Is that something you want?” I asked, almost afraid to hear her answer.

“What? A family and a home?”

“Yeah.”

“I do,” she whispered, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “And now I know it’s possible, even for me.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“My dad made sure to tell me more often than not how no one wanted a fat girl.”

I gripped the steering wheel, filling with rage at how I would have loved to get my hands around that guy’s neck before he died. However, I kept myself together, not wanting to drive off the side of the road. “Have you stopped believing him? Because let me tell you—this man here—although I’m not perfect—he sees you as you are, and that is beautiful, smart, and fun. You have everything a man could want.”

“Including you?”

“Especially me,” I said, my voice a little rough.

She smiled, and we fell into a comfortable silence, watching the Montana landscape roll by as we passed rivers frozen over and ranch lands lying dormant under patches of melting snow. The light was shifting, growing warmer as we drove on, casting a golden glow across the foothills and valleys. I’d driven this route a hundred times, but somehow, this time, it felt different.

As we drew closer to Bluefern, a few stray snowflakes began to drift down, soft and quiet, against the windshield.

“Looks like we might be in for some more snow,” I said, glancing over at her.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she pulled up the weather forecast on her phone. “Yep, they’re predicting at least another six inches in the next few hours.”

We were quiet again, both of us watching the world around us change as the light dimmed and the snow began to fall heavier, blanketing the road in a thin layer of white. By the time we reached Bluefern, the snow was coming down hard enough that the idea of pushing through to Stella and Jasper’s didn’t sit well with me.

“How would you feel about hunkering down at my place tonight? We can cook something warm. Cozy up by the fire. I think we’ve had enough of snowstorms for a while, don’t you?”

A slight smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I can’t think of anything I’d like more,” she said softly, glancing at me from under her lashes.

“I’m a terrible cook, so I hope you don’t mind something from a can.”

“A meal from a can is how this whole thing started, so I say, bring it on.”

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here.” Arabella sat at the counter in my kitchen, sipping a glass of wine while I put some premade meatballs into the oven.

The house I’d rented when I moved back was nothing special, but it did the job. Kept me warm in the winter and cool in the summer. I’d not really bothered to decorate, so I had little furniture. Regardless, it suited me for the time being. Most of the social and family time were at my family members’ homes, so it wasn’t as if I needed a place to entertain. Someday, I wanted to find a house of my own or have one built, but I hadn’t come upon the right opportunity. “Hopefully, the right house or property will fall into my lap at some point.”

“I happen to know of one,” she said, clearly referring to her house. “But I hear the furnace doesn’t work.”

“And you’re sure you want to sell?”

She nodded. “I don’t have any good memories there. And I have no interest in running a small ranch. It’s better to start fresh. But I’ll take my five acres and have the perfect house built. Anyway, people like us should always have a new dream or project to work on.”

“I suppose that’s true.” I had a new dream, and she was sitting right in front of me.

The water in the pot on the cooktop boiled, ready for the spaghetti noodles we were having with our meatballs. I stuck them into the water and stirred, a memory creeping up the back stairs of my mind. I smiled as an image of Pop and Mama dancing in the kitchen played before my eyes. “My parents used to dance in the kitchen. We always groaned and rolled our eyes, but I secretly loved it.”

“I would have loved that too.” She gestured toward the Bluetooth speaker on the counter. “Put on some music. I think we should dance right now.”

“What? Really?”

“Yes, something slow, so you have to hold me extra tight.”

I couldn’t punch a playlist into my phone fast enough. Seconds later, the music connected to the speaker, filling the room. The first song was too fast, but I quickly found a country ballad.

With a shy grin on her face, she stood and extended a hand toward me. “Dance with me, Dr. Rafferty.”

I took her hand and pulled her to me. She wrapped her arms around my neck, swaying slightly to the music. “I always wished you’d have asked me to dance. When we were in high school.”

I placed my hands at her waist, feeling the warmth of her body against mine, her cheek pressed to my chest. “You’re kidding? I thought you hated me.”

“I’ve been thinking about that over the last few days. You hated me, so I had to pretend I hated you. Inside, though, I thought you were the best thing that had ever happened to the world. I’d have given anything to know that someday I’d be in your kitchen, dancing with the handsome, smart Rafferty Moon. I’d have told shy, chubby Arabella to hold on. Her life would someday be better than she could ever imagine.”

“I’m glad it’s me you want to dance with.”

“You’re not going to break my heart, are you?” Arabella asked against my chest.

“Not if I can help it.”

“If I give you my heart, you’ll keep it safe?”

“I’d hold it close to my own and love you like Pop loves Mama. Above all else. To distraction. Forgetting any other woman exists. Will you keep my heart safe?”

“It will be the greatest honor of my life to have your heart in my hands.” She looked up into my eyes. “This is real, right? Not a dream? A fantasy? A psychotic delusion?”

I chuckled, leaning down to kiss her, making sure she knew this was very real.