Chapter Ten

His Cinderella. It was a slip of the tongue, and she knew that, but it didn’t stop the strange thrill that shot through her. A thrill she didn’t need to be having. Sitting in the passenger seat beside him, the wind blowing her hair in disarray through the open windows, a country song about a sweet love blaring from the speakers, Harper had to admit this was better than being at home writing out her to-do lists for tomorrow.

Maybe Ivy was right. If there was awkwardness between her and Rafferty, then being in his company was the best way to fix that. Or it could make things more awkward if she developed a thing for him. Wait…develop a thing for him…is that even possible given that we want vastly different things in life?

She sneaked a glance at Rafferty’s profile. A week ago, if anyone would have told her she was going to be out with Rafferty like this, she would have laughed in their faces. She was still dwelling on the changes in her life since he’d come back into the picture when he turned the truck down the long dirt road leading to Albert’s house. She rolled the window up to keep from breathing in the dust as they bumped along.

“I offered to pave this for him, but he turned me down.”

“He’s as stubborn as you are,” Harper said.

Rafferty parked in the driveway. “Pot, kettle.”

“I’m not stubborn. I just know what I want.” Harper got out and walked with him up the steps and onto the porch.

Rafferty grabbed her around the waist, pulling her solidly against him, halting her progress. “Hold up. There’s a hole in a board there. I’m going to fix that for him.”

Harper’s mouth felt full of cotton as he let her go. She skirted the weakened board, her body screaming with awareness at the effect of his touch.

Rafferty knocked, and the porch light clicked on, followed by Albert opening the door. His overalls were grass stained, and he had a red and white checkered napkin tucked into the bib. His face lit up with a smile, and he pushed the screen door open.

“Y’all come on in.” He backed away. “Harper. You’ve grown so much. I remember when you were knee high to a grasshopper. Haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays.”

“I’ve been busy at the castle.”

He bobbed his head. “I heard your momma took a break. Good for her. I was just sitting down to a slice of peach cobbler. I’d offer you both some, but I don’t want to share.”

Harper laughed. Albert had always been bluntly honest.

“I was hoping to take Harper horseback riding,” Rafferty said.

Albert’s bushy white eyebrows rose, then he grinned. “Well, now…I remember those days. That’s how I courted my Annie. Neither one of us had a lick of money, so we were always horseback riding somewhere with a picnic basket.”

Harper quickly clarified. “This isn’t… We’re not dating.”

Albert looked at the grandfather clock standing in the corner of the living room. “Only one reason a man takes a gal horseback riding this time in the evening and that’s if he’s sweet on her.”

Harper gave Rafferty a say something look.

“We work together, Albert. That’s all.”

He snorted and shuffled his way to a small closet by the door. “It’s not polite to lie to your elders, son.” He took out a flashlight and handed it to Harper. “Mind your step walking out to the barn. Leave the flashlight in there when you’re through. I’ll get it in the morning.”

“Thanks, Albert,” Rafferty said. “Watch that board,” he reminded Harper as they walked back outside. “Sorry about that in there. Albert’s been after me for the last few months to find a girl and settle down.”

“A heads up would have been nice,” Harper said.

Rafferty gave her a puzzled look as they trekked to the barn. “If I would have known you were courting me, I would have worn my best dress and my mama’s pearls.”

Rafferty laughed. “The day I decide to get serious, there wouldn’t be any doubt about it.” His laughter faded. “Not that the day will ever come. You know what I mean.”

“Deep breath, Rafferty. I didn’t think you meant you were ready to elope.”

Rafferty slid open the barn doors and walked in.

Harper aimed the flashlight at the ground to keep from spooking the horses until Rafferty turned the lights on. She shut off the flashlight and glanced up at the hayloft, admiring the craftsmanship. “Nice work on the windows. Who did that part?”

“Grayson put in the windows, and Lincoln built the balcony you saw as we walked up. The rest of the hard work was all me.”

Harper laughed. “Of course it was. Building Albert a barn was a kind thing for you and your brothers to do.”

“Wasn’t a big deal,” Rafferty downplayed his good deed. “His old one was falling apart, and he’s not able to get around like he used to.”

“I’m guessing the three of you supplied the lumber in addition to the labor.”

“Some of the other guys at the station chipped in.”

“Probably because you suggested it.” Harper set aside the flashlight and moved to get a halter. “That’s another reason I love living here. The people take care of each other.”

Rafferty picked up the other lead rope and unclipped the latch on one of the stalls. “That includes you, you know. When you need something, all you have to do is let someone know.” He paused and looked at her. “Let me know and I’ll be there for you.”

“Um…thanks.” Harper didn’t know how to take the emphasis he put on his words. Like he cared and maybe in a way he did. It could be that was part of his charm. She swung open a stall door and walked slowly toward a brown mare, careful to avoid the butt end of the horse. Speaking in soft, soothing tones, she let the mare sniff her hand then gently patted the side of the animal’s neck before she slipped the lead rope over the animal’s head.

“What’s her name?” she asked as the horse put her nose through the halter as if eager to go.

“The one you’re leading is Bally.” He pointed to the horse’s legs. “Albert calls her that because he thought the white on her forelegs looked like ballerina slippers.”

“She’s beautiful,” Harper said as she put her foot in the stirrup and swung herself up. She sat in the saddle for a few seconds, letting the memories of riding her childhood horse, Butterscotch, wash over her. Bareback riding across grassy fields, the wind in her hair and freedom stretching out before her as long as there was daylight. Every night that she could get away with it, she’d crept out of her bedroom and into the barn, spreading a blanket outside her mare’s stall. Looking up at the rafters, she’d shared all her troubles, comforted by Butterscotch’s soft, low whinny.

“You okay?”

Harper cleared her throat. “Sure.” She gave the mare a gentle nudge, and she trotted forward.

Rafferty kept pace with her, and they rode silently around the arena. With the brightness of the full moon to guide them, Harper could see clear to the small creek that ran to the east of Albert’s property.

“It’s pretty here,” she said, soothing the horse when she balked and side-stepped after the wind rustled the tree leaves.

“Annie planted the flower garden, and Albert has a small greenhouse where he grows roses from some of her original bushes. We’ll ride over there.”

“I don’t know. My mare seems a little on the skittish side.”

“Then we’ll take my horse.”

Frogs jumped up and down in Harper’s stomach, and she knew the exact cause of the nervousness. Sitting behind Rafferty, she’d have her arms around him. Sitting in front of him, he’d have his arms around her. Which shouldn’t be a big deal except that it was. She was going to tell him no for the simple reason that she wanted to hold him or have him hold her, and that was bad. Very bad.

She opened her mouth and said, “Okay.”

The trip back to the barn and putting away the mare went by in a blink, and then Harper was on the horse with Rafferty, riding bareback, sitting in front of him while feeling his chest against her back. Every jostle of the horse bumped her against him. In the circle of his arms, she felt warm and safe and much too tempted by him.

The ride to the flower garden didn’t take long, and after they reached it and dismounted, Rafferty tied up the horse then held out his hand. “This way.”

Harper met his gaze as she took his hand, and in that second, the world stood still. The beauty of the May evening, the moonlight spilling all around them, she would have liked to chalk it up to that, but being honest with herself, she admitted it was more. More than an attraction.

It was a longing that whatever this was between them stood a chance for something lasting, and that made her breath catch. That longing needed to be nipped in the bud. Left to grow, it would only wither and die unrequited in the end.

She walked with him to the flower garden Annie created. While she walked, she thought about the losses she’d experienced throughout her life. If she let go of her guarded heart and fell for Rafferty, he’d only be one more loss. It was best she file tonight under what could have been and move on.

…

An hour later, they were back at the barn. While Rafferty took care of the horse, Harper went to examine the ladder leading to the hayloft. The steps were wider than normal and closer together, and she guessed the Bradford brothers had purposefully built them that way to accommodate Albert’s physical decline as he aged.

Nimbly, she went up the ladder and stepped onto the hayloft. It still carried that new wood smell and was barren except for rolled-up bedding and a rocking chair near the windows.

“Harper?”

“Up here.”

Rafferty joined her. “Albert likes to sleep in the hayloft whenever one of the horses is sick or about to foal.” He opened the windows and backed up to sit in the rocking chair. “He’s got a nice view from here.”

“He seems lonely,” Harper said.

“It’s been about three years since he lost Annie. I imagine that he probably is.”

“We could set him up with Jean.”

Rafferty laughed. “Matchmake my grandmother? I love it.”

“Let’s do it.” Harper paused, startled by a noise. “What is that?”

Rafferty sprang up and stepped out onto the balcony. “It’s Albert.”

Seconds later, music from a slow country love song rose from below. Rafferty shook his head. “Albert’s doing a little matchmaking of his own. He set a radio on the rain barrel beside the barn.”

Harper went to take a peek and saw the old man heading back to his house. “Why would he do that?”

Rafferty faced her. “Either he’s a romantic at heart or he’s working with my grandmother.”

“Pretty song,” she said softly.

“For a pretty girl,” he answered and held out his hands. “Let’s not waste it.”

Another memory to add to the what could have been file. Harper walked into the circle of his arms, questioning her ability to keep her heart as guarded as she’d hoped. It had been easier to keep her distance when she thought Rafferty was a shallow playboy only interested in himself.

After spending time with him in the supply room and at the castle, she’d learned that he, too, had a heart scar and, like her, protected himself.

He waltzed them across the hayloft, and Harper didn’t want to be careful, not while she looked up into his handsome face and her heart beat a hundred miles a minute.

“I know you’ve been hurt,” Rafferty said abruptly, holding her gaze. “But I want you to know that I meant what I said in the supply room. I’ll keep you safe.”

She pulled away from him and retreated a step. “Please don’t say things like that. I can’t afford to be taken in by a sweet line, fall for you, and be left broken-hearted. Not again. And we both know that this, us, isn’t going to take root. We’re not doing anything here except spending time together so our acting is less awkward in the show.”

“Harper—” He reached for her.

She took another step back. “Maybe I should go home.”

He lowered his arms. “If that’s what you want.”

No, it isn’t. What I’m beginning to want, God help my stupidity, is you. The man who’ll always choose to walk away. I know better. Heartache resides there.

“It’s what I want,” she said.

…

Confusion was becoming his go-to feeling when he was around Harper. Seeing her and talking to her was exhilarating, frustrating, knocked him off balance, and made him feel like he was going into emotional overdrive. He wanted to tell her to stay away from him in one breath and beg her not to go in the next.

The roads back to her house were deserted, but he wasn’t surprised by that. The only people out after eleven o’clock at night were teenagers sneaking around hanging at the lake, going a little too far. Just like he used to do.

The white picket fence surrounding the borders of the property leading to her house came into view, and he turned onto the gravel road. He parked in front of the porch and opened his door to come around and help her, but she’d already climbed out and slammed the passenger door.

“Well…thanks for tonight.”

“It wasn’t a line,” he blurted out.

She frowned like she was trying to understand what he was talking about.

“Back at the hayloft. I wasn’t feeding you a line.” He’d said what he had because he’d meant it. Looking out for her, protecting her, was a strong need in him he didn’t understand but felt compelled to do.

“What is it, then? You want to look out for me? I’m a big girl, Rafferty Bradford, and I don’t need you or anyone else taking care of me.”

“I won’t hurt you. I swear.”

To Rafferty’s horror, Harper burst into tears.

“Hey…whoa…”

She put her hand out as he approached. “Just…go,” she said between sniffles.

He searched his mind but came up with nothing he could have said to make her cry. “What did I do wrong? Tell me and I’ll fix it.”

“You didn’t do anything, and you can’t do anything. Not now, not ever. You cannot look out for me, okay?” She turned and started up the porch steps.

“Hold on a second.” He caught up to her and turned her to face him. “Give me a clue here.”

She smacked his chest lightly. “You’re not a jerk.”

Like that made perfect sense to her. “Okay…um…good to know?”

“You’re supposed to be a jerk, don’t you get it? What you aren’t supposed to be is funny and sweet and romantic. You’re not supposed to be the guy who dances in the hayloft or the one who kisses me like I’ve never been kissed.”

“You want me to be a jerk,” he said slowly.

“I think it’s best.” She nodded.

“For the love of trucks, I can’t figure out what’s going on in your head.”

Harper wiped her eyes. “Play your part on the stage, Rafferty. Nothing more.” She turned her back to him to unlock her front door.

“We’re supposed to spend time together. Are you still coming for the burn drill?”

“I know that.” She stilled, then he heard her sigh. Without looking at him, she said, “For the sake of the show, I’ll be there, and we’ll hang out together in the future, but…nothing else.”

Rafferty stood in her front yard for a few minutes after she went inside and shut the door. He had a vague sense that something important had passed right over his head. In the past with the women he’d dated, he wasn’t left standing in the dark nursing a horse-kicked-him-in-the-gut feeling. Exhaling, he went back to the truck, knowing he’d be too wired to sleep.

Instead of heading to his place, he drove to Lincoln’s, wondering if his brother was up and wondering what he’d say if he was. He needed to talk to someone about Harper, but what he’d say, he didn’t know. Maybe Lincoln could make sense of it.

Lincoln was in the driveway, taking something from the trunk of Josie’s car when Rafferty pulled up at his house. His brother walked toward him. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“That sounds ominous. You want to come in? Josie made pineapple upside down cake.”

“Sure,” Rafferty said even though he wasn’t hungry. He followed Lincoln in, and as always, the coziness of their place enveloped him. What was once a house, they’d made a home.

Josie rose from the sofa when she saw him. “Hey. Your date end early?”

“I wasn’t on a date. I was with Harper.”

Her smile widened. “Oh? That’s good, right?”

“Not like that.” He shoved his hands in his jeans.

Josie exchanged a look with Lincoln. The kind that couples used when they were communicating without words. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Come into the kitchen,” Lincoln instructed after Josie disappeared down the hallway. He took two saucers from the dishwasher and set them on the table.

Rafferty pulled out a chair and sat, still thinking about the conversation between him and Harper. After Lincoln poured them both a cup of coffee and set two slices of cake on the table, he sat down across from him.

Rafferty cleared his throat. “You know Harper and I are working together. Because there’s an awkwardness between us, it showed in rehearsal, so we decided to spend time hanging with each other.”

“Sure,” Lincoln said.

“Everything was going well, and I thought we were getting comfortable, then tonight out of the blue she told me I was supposed to be a jerk.”

Lincoln frowned over the rim of his cup. “Give me some context.”

“I told her I’d keep her safe. Next thing I know, we’re at her house and she’s crying. I…I don’t know what to do.”

“So you’re coming to me for advice on women?”

“Yeah. You’re married. I’m sure Josie says or does things that don’t make sense, right?”

Lincoln laughed. “I’m not touching that statement with a ten-foot pole, brother.”

“I can read women as easily as a book. Except Harper. It’s like she’s written in a language I’ve never seen before.”

“And you want to be able to read her. It’s not just a one and done thing?”

“No, but I don’t know what I want, Linc.” He thought for a second. “Maybe I do know. I want to get to know her again, but there’s a wall. And I haven’t felt this way since Jill—” As soon as he said her name, he stopped talking.

Lincoln looked at him, and Rafferty guessed his brother was remembering when he’d helped put the broken pieces back together.

“Since Jill…” Lincoln prodded.

Scenes from that time in his life ran through his mind. It felt like a lifetime ago, and it felt like yesterday. Rafferty gripped his fork tighter, as if he could squeeze the memories away.

Lincoln took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. He was silent for a second. “You’re starting to look at Harper the way you did Jill, and it’s bringing up stuff.”

Rafferty clenched his jaw. “No. I don’t know what I feel.”

“I see. My guess is that what’s going on has to do with emotional scar tissue. As your heart tries to open up to a relationship, one that could mean more to you than your date-and-done routine, that scar tissue is stretched. It causes all those old fears and hurts to rise to the surface.”

Rafferty stared at him. “Where’d you hear that?”

“You know Josie used to be a therapist.”

Rafferty nodded.

“Well, she’s pretty wise when it comes to relationships. We’ve had a lot of enlightening conversations.”

“I remember you weren’t all that keen on a relationship. What happened to change you?”

Lincoln speared a piece of pineapple and smiled. “Josie happened. All my no, I’ll never love again was just me doing lip service because my heart had another plan.” He bit the pineapple and chewed for a second. “You said there’s a wall. Are you talking about Harper?”

“Yeah. I figured out that she pushes me away because of her father leaving her. Then I heard the rumors about her ex cheating and guessed that was part of her reserve, too. But I’m not like either of them. I don’t know why she paints us all with the same brush.”

“Well, her father physically left her by abandoning the family when she was little. Then he died, which was a deeper kind of abandonment. Add the skunk of a boyfriend and you have guys who were important to her treating her like she wasn’t.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Rafferty leaned back in the chair. “I’d never treat her so cruelly.”

“You’re a good man. I know it, and you know it. She doesn’t. And you did fracture the original friendship between the two of you. So you walked away.” Lincoln held his gaze. “Don’t start something you can’t see through to the finish line.”

“I was afraid of hurting her. Of getting hurt. What happened with Jill…you know? And I don’t know if I want to start anything now any more than I did back then.”

Lincoln gave him a funny look. “Don’t waste time lying to yourself. Trust me, that’s a road that’ll take you around in circles. I lied to myself about Josie for months, and you know how close I came to losing her.”

“Let me rephrase that. I don’t know if I can start anything.”

“Ah. You want to, but you can’t let yourself go there.”

“I don’t know that I have it in me. There’s a part of me that wants to be the one to show her that not every man will treat her heart so carelessly. Then another part wants to stay as far away as possible to keep my scars from scarring her.”

“That’s very noble of you. I did the same thing with Josie. You know what I discovered?”

“What?”

“Women are a lot stronger than we give them credit for. We think we’re the tough ones, the ones holding them up. In reality, they’re the ones holding us.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Rafferty agreed. “But I don’t know. I’m the one with all the insight into women.”

Lincoln laughed at the sarcasm. “Which is why you came to me. Eat your cake and then come out to Josie’s flowers with me. I want to use some of your B.S. to fertilize the soil.”

Rafferty scoffed as he finished off his cake. “Now you know why Grayson is my favorite brother.”

Lincoln laughed. “What I’m saying is the truth.”

“Speaking of truth, Harper doesn’t know the real reason I wanted the part was to get the promotion.” Rafferty got up to get another cup of coffee. “Once I get it, as soon as Harper hires a replacement prince, I’m out of there.”

“You lied to her?” Lincoln frowned.

“No. I just didn’t tell her.”

Lincoln let out a whistle. “You should. If you don’t, it’ll come back to bite you. The newly rebuilt friendship could fall apart, and you might not be able to put it back together again.”

Rafferty grimaced as guilt tightened his chest. The desire to come clean to Harper nagged at him, but fear rode along with the guilt. If he told her his real motive for taking the part, it might break their truce and destroy any chance of him ever being able to make it right. He was going to have to confess, though, and sooner rather than later.

“I’ll tell her soon, but just not yet.” He needed to figure out what to say and how to say it in a way that wouldn’t end their still-healing friendship.

By the way his brother frowned, Rafferty could tell Lincoln wasn’t on board with the idea.

“The thing about risk is that there can be consequences you might not expect. Think about what happens if you don’t tell Harper the truth and she finds out. You take a chance losing Harper again. If you can do that and not feel sick to your stomach, then there’s no problem.”

“I can do that.” Rafferty pictured his life without Harper’s friendship, the way that it had been before. His stomach roiled, and he ran a hand through his hair. Forcing a smile, he said, “See? Nothing. I’m going home.” He abandoned the rest of the coffee and made a beeline for the front door.

“Flowers are out back,” Lincoln called after him.

Rafferty let the screen door slam in his wake.