Page 193 of Beat of Love
Rafferty didn’t speak.
There was nothing he could say that would undo the past.
No defense that wouldn’t sound like an excuse.
So, he just nodded once, slow and heavy, and stared out at the horizon.
Let the silence speak for him.
“I’ve watched you since you’ve been back,” Aidan said. “Seen you claw your way back from addiction. Reclaim the life you lost. And that … that I can admire.”
Rafferty turned his head, caught his brother’s steady stare.
Aidan held it. “And the way you’ve stepped up with those kids. The way you love Brandy … That’s the man I always hoped you’d become.” He cleared his throat, voice thickening slightly. “So, Iguess, in a very roundabout way, what I am sayin’ is … welcome home, brother.”
He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. “Thank you.”
There was no hug, no handshake.
But Aidan’s words … they settled deep in his soul.
They stood for a while, both staring out over the land dotted with cattle and vibrant with growth. The breeze carried the familiar scent of earth and livestock, of hay and mesquite — sun-warmed and deeply rooted. Fences crisscrossed in the distance, following the same lines laid out decades ago.
This land held history in its soil. Footsteps of generations.
Stories of drought and fire, of tornadoes endured, calves born, and lives built one hard-earned day at a time.
It was steady. Unchanging.
And for the first time in a very long while, Rafferty felt like he finally belonged.
Then Aidan spoke again. “That business … that woman … is it taken care of?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He pushed off the vehicle, adjusted his hat, and sauntered back to his truck. Opening the driver’s door, he called over his shoulder, “Cookin’ out this weekend. Bring Brandy and the kids. Vinnie’s chomping at the bit to meet Connor and Nadie.”
Rafferty stood frozen, caught off guard. The invitation — simple as it was — landed like a balm on an old, raw wound. A breath hitched in his chest, and before he could stop it, a single tear slid down his cheek.
He wiped it away roughly and watched his brother drive off.
Then he got into Sarge, started up, and drove home.
55
Living free
Brandy-Lyn heard the rumble of his Jeep before she saw it. Stepping out onto the veranda, arms loosely folded, Brandy fixed her eyes on the road and waited.
What with settling Connor and Nadie, meeting with Children Services and lawyers, filling out endless forms, and the dark hovering concern for the team in Brazil taking care of his “dirty work”, time alone had been minimal.
A stolen moment here, a furtive kiss there. A sneaky midnight booty call.
The Jeep rounded the bend. He parked, climbed out, and crossed the grass with purposeful strides. She barely had time to brace before he was on the steps, taking them two at a time, then pulling her into his arms like a man starved.
He buried his face in her neck, his body tight with emotion.
His breath shuddered out against her skin.
