Reunited (16 page)

Keely quickly finished her business in the outhouse, then ran back down the path. When she got inside the cabin, she kicked off the boots and slowly walked into the kitchen. "It's still snowing out there," she called.

Rafe held a bucket in his hand and slowly dumped steaming water into an old-fashioned copper bathtub. The tub looked so inviting, the hot water a chance to chase away the early morning chill. But she would have to take her bath out in the open. She wondered if this was another one of his games.

"I hope this is all right. The tub came with the cabin. I think it's probably an antique. I built a shower in the back, but it's kind of cold and drafty. And I remembered that you liked baths." He poured another bucket into the tub, then stepped back. "That should do it." He pointed to the counter beside the sink. "Soap, shampoo, and towels. And there's a bucket here for rinsing. You can just fill it from the sink. I'll just be in the other room if you need anything."

This wasn't a game. "Thank you," Keely murmured, surprised by the generous gesture. She shrugged out of her jacket. "You can stay if you want. It's not like you haven't seen it all before. And you can fetch more hot water for me." She started to strip out of her clothes and was surprised when Rafe turned his back to her as she did.

When she was completely naked, she slipped beneath the steaming water, sinking down until it touched her chin. "Oh, this is wonderful." She closed her eyes and tipped her head back against the edge of the tub. A long silence grew between them and Keely opened one eye to find Rafe staring at her, an uneasy expression on his face. "Would you like to tell me now?"

"Tell you?"

"About your father."

"Are you willing to listen? With an open mind?"

Keely met his gaze. "I'll do my best."

Rafe grabbed a chair from the table and pulled it closer to the tub, then sat down. He braced his elbows on his knees and hunched over, silently contemplating what he was going to say. After a long while, he finally spoke.

"I remember the day that they came to the house to tell us my father was dead. They'd radioed in from the boat and the local sheriff came to break the news. We didn't know any details, but later, after the boat had come in, some of my dad's friends came by and explained how my dad got caught in the line and dragged under. From that moment on, I suspected it wasn't the truth. My father didn't make stupid mistakes like that."

Rafe went on, telling Keely about the aftermath of his father's death, the funeral, his mother's emotional breakdowns, the insurance money that seemed to evaporate in the face of Lila's medical bills. "When I was a teenager, my mother was rattling on and on about my father's death and she mentioned something about Seamus Quinn and murder. At first, I thought she was just delusional, but I was curious. I never forgot what she said, and when I got older and had a little more money, I started to do some investigating. A few months ago, I finally tracked down one of the crew members who was on that run with my father. And he told me what really happened on the
Mighty Quinn.
"

Keely listened closely as the rest of the story unfolded. Rafe told it in a cold, unemotional voice, as if he were recalling the death of a stranger rather than his own father. When he finished, he released a long breath. "So you can see why I have to know what happened. My father's death changed my life--it made me the person I am today. And sometimes I don't like that person very much. There's this...rage that I can't seem to get rid of. If I finally know the truth, then maybe I can let it go."

"Even though it means ruining another man's life?" Keely asked.

"If he wasn't your father, would you feel the same way, Keely?"

Keely considered his point and was forced to concede. In any other case, she'd be behind him one-hundred percent. "Probably not. But the fact is Seamus
is
my father. And if you get what you want, I may never know him."

"When I started this, I wanted revenge. But now I just want the truth. If you can understand that, Keely, then I'll understand if you have to side with your family."

Keely nodded, then reached out her hand. "Shampoo."

Rafe stood up from the chair and grabbed the bottle. Keely slid down beneath the water to wet her hair, then popped back up. She waited for Rafe to hand her the shampoo, but instead he stood behind her and began to wash her hair himself.

"I don't believe my father is capable of murder," she said. "I know him. It's not possible. And nothing you say to me is going to make me believe that."

"I hope you're right," Rafe said as he lathered her hair.

Keely closed her eyes again and relaxed into the luxurious feel of his fingers in her hair. Though the feeling was incredibly sensual, the task was ordinary and it made her feel closer to Rafe than she ever had making love to him.

"I'm sorry about last night," he murmured.

"I know you are."

Keely tipped her head back and Rafe rinsed her hair. Then he set the bucket down and wiped his hands on his jeans. "Well, I guess I should get things cleaned up around here. The plow should be coming soon to clear the drive and I'm sure you want to get back to Boston."

"How are we going to get back? We don't have any car keys."

He turned and reached into the kitchen cupboard, then withdrew a key ring. "I always keep an extra set up here. Just in case."

Keely couldn't help but smile. "And I was actually trying to figure out a way to retrieve the keys from the outhouse." She paused, playing with a mound of soap bubbles near her shoulder. Now that Rafe was ready to take her home, Keely wasn't sure she wanted to go. Somewhere, deep in her heart, she knew that this might be the last time she and Rafe would see each other.

He was right. She had to make a choice--either him or her family. But she wasn't ready to make that choice just yet. If they left now, she'd have a few more hours with him and that would be it. Keely closed her eyes. Now or later, it wouldn't make much difference.

"Good," Keely said. "I'm going to be glad to get back to Boston."

R
AFE STOMPED
his feet on the rug just inside the door, noting that his ankle only gave him a twinge of pain now. He carefully balanced the load of firewood in his arms as he kicked off his boots. Peering over the top of the wood, he found Keely where he had left her an hour ago. She was curled up on the sofa in front of the fireplace with a book she'd found--his dog-eared copy of Dickens's
Great Expectations.

"The snow hasn't let up," Rafe said. "The roads are probably pretty bad. But we should be plowed out soon."

"It's going to be dark soon. If you hadn't thrown your phone away, you could have called and found out when he'd be here."

Rafe nodded. "Right." He wasn't going to tell her that he had a cell phone in his coat pocket in case of a real emergency. A drifted driveway wasn't worth a phone call. The more time he had with Keely the better.

Keely lowered her book to her lap, then turned to him. "Maybe we should just plan to stay," she said. "After all, it's New Year's Eve. It might be nice to ring in the new year in the peace and quiet of the north woods, away from everything going on in Boston."

Rafe was happy that she'd come to that conclusion on her own. If he'd suggested it, she probably would have fought him all the way. "There's food in the refrigerator. And I think I've got a bottle of champagne around here somewhere from last New Year's Eve."

"Leftover from one of your other kidnap victims?" Keely asked, one eyebrow arched.

"No. I've never brought a woman here before. You're the first." The smile faded from her face and her gaze shifted back to her book. Rafe cleared his throat. "I was thinking of taking a walk. Would you like to come with me?"

Keely shook her head. "I don't have any boots. Remember? You burned them up in the fireplace?"

He glanced over at the rug near the door. "You could wear those."

"I can't walk very well in those."

"We'll walk slowly. And I have a down jacket you can wear and a decent hat. You'll be warm, I promise. And we won't go far."

"All right," Keely said. "I could use some fresh air."

Rafe was glad for the company. Besides, if this day was their last together, then he was going to do all he could to make it memorable. He bent down and helped her put the boots on, then tied the laces tightly until her feet were secure inside. Then he helped her slip into his old down jacket. To top it off, Rafe pushed a plaid hat on her head, complete with earflaps.

"I bet I look beautiful in this getup," Keely said.

He stared down at her, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her. "You always look beautiful."

"Let's go," she murmured.

The wind had died down, but snowflakes still drifted between the trees as they broke a pathway to the lake. The woods were perfectly quiet and, for once, Rafe felt as if the world had slowed down enough for them to relax. "I'm sorry I can't get you back to Boston today," he said.

Keely shrugged. "I'm a little nervous about what's going to happen when I get there. I guess I could use an extra day to figure out how I'm going to do this. It's so easy standing on the outside looking in. I know who I am and I know who they are. But to them I'm just going to be some stranger trying to barge into their lives. I'm worried about how they're going to react."

"Just barf on their shoes and they'll fall in love with you," Rafe said.

She glanced over at him and smiled winsomely. "Will they? I mean, just because we're family doesn't mean they have to accept me. I'm always going to be an outsider. I don't share the same memories as they do." She stopped walking and stared out at the lake. "And I'm afraid they might blame me."

"For not telling them sooner?"

"No. For making my mother leave."

"How is that even possible? You weren't born when your mother walked out."

"But I was the reason," Keely explained. "When she found out she was pregnant with me, she took off. If it hadn't been for me, she would have stayed."

Rafe reached out and tucked a windblown strand of hair beneath her hat. There were times when all he wanted to do was drag her into his arms and kiss away her worries. When she talked about her family, she seemed so vulnerable. "You can't blame yourself, Keely. I used to think it was my fault that my mother had her mental problems. Because I wasn't able to replace my dad. Because she didn't feel safe with me taking care of her. But her problems weren't my fault any more than your mother's choice to walk out on her family was your fault."

"Still, it's going to be hard telling them. I keep imagining their reactions. Dead silence would be horrible. If they don't believe me at all, I don't know what I'll do. They could yell at me." She brought a hand to her throat. "But I have proof." She pulled her necklace out from beneath her sweater, the necklace she'd worn since the very first time he'd made love to her. "My mother gave this to me. It's a claddagh. An Irish symbol of love and fidelity. My mother says Seamus will recognize it."

"Are you going to tell him first?" Rafe asked.

She shook her head, then slipped the necklace back beneath her sweater. "I don't think so. I think I'll tell one of my brothers and get his reaction before breaking the news to Seamus."

"And I suppose you're going to tell them about me," Rafe said.

Keely nodded. "I am. I think they need to know. Maybe it will help."

"It will be the end of us," Rafe said.

Keely nodded. "I know."

Her calm acceptance of the fact cut him deep. "Come on. I have something I want to show you." They headed off the main path through the woods, then up into a small clearing. The clearing offered a view of the entire lake, the dense forest that surrounded it, the windswept ice and a sunset that colored the sky pink and orange and purple. A hawk circled overhead, dipping and gliding on the cold air. "We're all alone up here. This cabin is the only place on the lake."

"No neighbors?"

"Nope. I own the whole lake and the property around it. Or Kencor does. We bought it about five years ago and we were going to develop it. Condos, maybe a resort, some larger vacation homes. But then I couldn't do it."

"I can see why," Keely murmured. "I wouldn't change a thing."

They sat down on a small boulder and stared out at the lake. "Whatever happens with your father, Keely, I want you to know that I never meant any of it to hurt you."

"I know," she replied. "And I understand what you need to do. We both have pasts that we need to fix. But my father is innocent. I believe that with all my heart. And I'm going to help my family prove it."

He took her fingers and brought them up to his mouth, pressing his lips against the back of her hand. "I hope you do, Keely."

K
EELY PICKED UP
the bottle of burgundy and sloshed a bit more into the casserole. Though she prided herself on her cooking skills, she felt like the Iron Chef trying to put together an elegant meal from the food in Rafe's refrigerator. They had a choice of frozen pizza, canned spaghetti, chicken Hungry-Man dinners or T-bone steaks. "Real manly food," she muttered.

Luckily potatoes qualified as manly food, as did onions. She was able to make a passable beef burgundy with a bottle of wine she'd found. Whoever had stocked the cabin had also purchased a bag of romaine so she toasted bread for croutons and whipped up a Caesar's salad--without anchovy or Parmesan cheese. As for dessert, they had four different kinds of ice cream. So she'd melted down some chocolate bars for ice cream sundaes.

As she was putting the casserole back in the oven, the lights flickered and Keely waited for the electricity to come back on. It had happened four or five times that afternoon, Rafe explaining that the snow was heavy on the power lines. In truth, it frightened Keely. She felt isolated enough without indoor plumbing. She wandered into the living room and found Rafe poking at the fire.

"Dinner smells good."

"It's done. The power should be back on soon. In the meantime it'll stay warm, so we can eat whenever we want." She glanced over at Rafe. "What if the power doesn't come back on?"

Rafe straightened, wiping his hands on his jeans. "We'll just have to build a very big fire and snuggle up." He paused, then smiled weakly. "I think it might be off for good this time."

"For the rest of the night?" Keely asked.

"Maybe." He reached up to the mantel and grabbed a box of matches. "It happens pretty regularly up here. Let's hope the pipes won't freeze. The last time that happened I had a real mess." He lit the kerosene lamp on the coffee table, then brought it over to her. "Why don't you put this in the kitchen? I'll dig up some candles and find the rest of the lanterns."

"And I have to visit the powder room before it gets any colder or darker." Keely pulled on the oversize boots she'd grown used to wearing, then grabbed her jacket from a hook beside the door. The flashlight was where she'd left it after her last hike to the outhouse.

"Don't let the bears eat you," Rafe teased as she hurried out the door.

"From now on I'm going to appreciate the convenience of indoor plumbing," she muttered as she trudged up the path.

The cold wind cut through her jacket and she rushed to get back to the warmth of the cabin. When she opened the door and stepped inside, her breath caught in her throat. The dark and gloomy interior had been illuminated by candles and lanterns scattered all around the room, the light dancing against the rough walls of the cabin and creating a cozy, romantic atmosphere.

Rafe reappeared from his bedroom carrying a boom box. "We can still have music as long as the batteries last," he said.

"It's beautiful," she said.

He nodded. "I kind of like it this way. Simple. Kind of rustic. I thought we'd eat in front of the fire. And we'll have to sleep in front of the fire. Why don't you bring in dinner and I'll get things set up?"

By the time Keely brought the first course in, Rafe had tossed pillows and down comforters on the floor. He popped the bottle of champagne that had been cooling in a snowbank, then filled two wineglasses. Keely took one from his hand and raised it to her lips, but he stopped her.

"It's New Year's Eve," Rafe said. "We should have a toast."

"All right. What should we toast to?"

"To the fates that brought us together," Rafe offered.

And to the fates that would tear them apart,
Keely mused. She touched her glass to his. But before she could take a sip, Rafe bent forward and caught her mouth in a long and lingering kiss. "I've always spent New Year's Eve alone," he murmured. "It just never seemed very important to celebrate. But now I kind of understand what it's all about."

"Old acquaintance and auld lang syne?" Keely asked, gazing into his eyes.

"I think it's about looking at the past, at all our mistakes and problems, and starting off with a fresh slate. It's about hope." He reached up and skimmed his fingers down her cheek.

"And do you have any New Year's resolutions?" Keely asked.

"Not that I've thought of. How about you?"

She stepped away from him, setting her glass down on the coffee table and walking over to the fire. "Well, first, I'm going to try to be less impulsive. But then that's been my New Year's resolution for most of my adult life."

"I like your impulsiveness," Rafe said. "I wouldn't change that if I were you."

"All right. Then I'm going to lose ten pounds."

Rafe shook his head and slowly walked toward her. "No, I don't think that's a good idea. You've got a great body. I like it just the way it is."

Keely sent him a grateful smile. "Well, I'm definitely going to take Spanish lessons."

Rafe didn't have a reply for that. Instead, her pulled her into his arms and kissed her once more. Keely knew that they were playing a dangerous game. They'd put their differences aside for now, but as soon as they left the isolation of the cabin, everything would bubble up around them again.

"We shouldn't do this," she murmured. "It will just make things more difficult."

"It's New Year's Eve." He smoothed his fingers along her jawline. "Let's just pretend that this is a beginning instead of an end."

Keely nodded and Rafe spanned her waist with his hands. As he kissed her, his tongue warm on her lips, she felt her knees go weak and her resolve falter. There was no way to refuse; she just didn't have it in her. From the time she'd met him, she'd been drawn to him in a way that defied logic and determination. He ruled her body, his command a simple touch.

Rafe's mouth drifted along her throat, then lower as he knelt in front of her. He lifted her sweater and pressed his mouth into her belly, then gently pulled her down to kneel in front of him. It felt like ages since they'd been intimate but it had only been last night when he'd left her shuddering with pleasure.

His hands skimmed over her body, dipping beneath her clothes, teasing her and then retreating as if he wanted to bring her along slowly. But Keely wasn't content to relinquish control this time. She wanted to prove to him how powerful she could be. She wanted to make him ache with need, then explode inside her.

She brushed his hands off her body, then pinned them behind his back. "It's my turn now," she said. "You do what I say."

Rafe smiled, ready and willing to comply. "All right," he murmured. "Seduce me, Keely."

She sat back on her heels. "Take off your clothes. I want you naked."

He stood, and as he removed his sweater, Keely watched the light from the fire dance across his muscled torso and flat belly. After tossing the sweater aside, Rafe started on his jeans.

"Slower," Keely ordered. "Much slower."

He kicked off his socks, one at a time. "How's this?"

"Slower."

He unbuttoned his jeans and dragged the zipper down inch by inch to reveal silk boxers. His hard shaft pressed against the fabric, then sprung free as he skimmed the jeans over his hips. He was already fully aroused and Keely's fingers clenched, fighting the temptation to reach out and stroke him until he came in her hand. To be in control of his pleasure, she'd have to control her own.