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Butterfly Cove
Butterfly Cove
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Butterfly Cove

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“No, you sit tight. The storm is knocking out power lines everywhere. The governor has called an emergency alert. People need to stay off the road tonight so rescue crews can get in and out.”

“Then keep me posted, okay? Have Olivia call me when she wakes up in the morning. And Rafe?”

“Yes?”

His voice was cooler, Jilly realized. He sounded about a hundred years older than he had been the last time she had seen him. Probably war did that to you. “Thank you for staying with Livie. And welcome home. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Hell of a first day back,” Rafe said dryly. “But I’ll take mudslides over IEDs any day.”

CHAPTER THREE

“OLIVIA SULLIVAN? SHE’S right down the hall, Deputy Russo.” The harassed clinic nurse looked up from her computer and nodded at Rafe. “But she’s still sedated.”

“Not a problem. I’ll just look in on her for a few minutes.” Actually, Rafe was relieved by this news. Seeing Olivia again had left him off balance, unprepared for the wave of emotions that had come in the wake of their meeting. He wasn’t sure how she would feel about seeing him again either.

She’d probably throw a shoe at him.

He deserved all that and more.

Rafe opened the door to her room and moved quietly around to her bed. She was still asleep, her breathing slow and regular. An IV line dripped from a bottle over her head and Rafe thought she looked even more beautiful than he remembered.

But tired.

Thinner.

Too pale, and not from the accident.

Why wasn’t she glowing with life, married with three kids and a big house overlooking the cliffs?

Rafe frowned as he watched light play over her pale features. He had thought of her more often than was comfortable since coming back to the States from Afghanistan, but he was a different man from the confused and angry teenager who had run off to join the Marines a decade before. And Olivia had been a huge part of his boyhood. He had trailed home after her in the twilight, curious about the big house where she lived and the important man who was her father. His curiosity had turned into protectiveness when he heard some of the boys say she was tongue-tied and the girls say she was stuck up.

Rafe had figured she was just shy, and he had taken time to draw her out. Over time they had become unlikely friends, arguing over food and books and television shows. And eventually they had become more than friends....

Rafe pushed away the bittersweet memories.

He wasn’t here to stir up the past or pick up where they had left off. The new Rafe played by all the rules. That meant making sure he hurt no one, and he figured the best way to avoid hurting Olivia Sullivan was to stay out of her way.

Except staying away became impossible when their cars had crashed together in the storm. She had been brave to choose a possible accident over a certainty of impact with the stalled school minivan.

Brave but crazy, Rafe thought grimly.

Olivia had always taken her responsibilities seriously. Sometimes he had felt as if he had become one of her responsibilities—a mini-crusade to reform the town ne’er-do-well and see him brought into the fold.

Rafe hadn’t wanted to join the fold, not on Summer Island or anywhere else. He had accepted Olivia’s efforts because for most of his school years he had been crazy in love with her, ready to do anything to get her into bed, with those long, soft legs wrapped around him in blazing passion.

But when the opportunity came, Rafe saw how unprepared she was for sex and the power of her own passion. He had backed off completely. He didn’t ruin innocent girls—and he refused to cause Olivia pain.

He had left Summer Island shortly after that.

He had started to call her many times in the years after he left, but each time good sense had stopped him. What did a smart, beautiful, rich girl like Olivia need with an angry screwup like him? She had never seen his dark streak and his anger. Rafe had made sure of that. But the Marines had pulled that part out of him. They had used his anger, honing his traits of independence and command to make him into a valuable weapon. Rafe had been very good at the jobs they gave him in Korea, Iraq and Afghanistan.

He knew that training made him different now. War had marked him deeply, and sometimes he wondered whether he could ever go back to comfortable civilian life after the things he had seen—and done.

Olivia’s hand shifted on the bed. Rafe moved back as she took a rough breath and opened her eyes, staring around the room groggily.

Her eyes moved. She studied the bed, the wall and then looked at his face, seeming confused.

“Rafe? Is that—really you?”

Rafe felt something tighten in his throat at her question. The sound of her voice still had the power to hit him in the chest like a hot fist. “It’s me. How do you feel?”

“Sleepy. Strange. Drugged, I guess. You were there in the mudslide? That was you in the car I hit, wasn’t it? And then my shoulder—” She closed her eyes, cutting off a sound of pain.

“Take it easy, Livie. You’re doing great. There won’t be any more pain like that.”

“You fixed my shoulder. I remember that.” Olivia’s hand slid out to grip his. “I thought it was a dream when you walked out of the rain. I’m not dreaming, am I?”

Her eyes were unfocused and Rafe figured she was still half-asleep. She probably didn’t have a clue what she was saying. “It’s no dream. I’m right here, Livie. Now get some rest.”

She smiled sadly. “I missed how you say my name. Say it again?”

“Livie.”

“That’s nice. I’m glad you’re here. Don’t go away, Rafe. Not until I wake up. It...might be a while.”

Rafe looked down at their fingers linked on the white hospital bed. He felt a weight at his chest. “I’ll be right here.”

They were going to have to face their past sometime, he thought. They might as well get it over with as soon as possible.

* * *

RAFE WALKED DOWN for a quick cup of coffee and a sandwich from a vending machine. Then he checked in with Tom Wilkinson to be sure things were under control at the station.

Since he was off duty, he figured he would stay with Olivia until one of her friends showed up. Hell, he had nothing better to do.

When he got back to her door, he was surprised to hear the sound of voices from inside the room. Looking in, he saw that she was awake, propped against a pillow, offering knitting tips to three nurses who were admiring a featherlight shawl on her bed.

So she was still a knitter, Rafe thought. Even as a teenager she had been crazy for yarn and fiber. Rafe remembered that she had knit him a hat one year, and it had won a prize at the county fair. He frowned as the rest of the details came back to him. Her father had been angry that she entered the fair without his permission. He had been incendiary when he learned that the hat was a gift for Rafe. But Olivia had refused to relent, determined to give the complex piece of knitting to Rafe. Her father had retaliated by cutting off her allowance and grounding her for a month.

Never one to back down, Jilly had sneaked over at night, climbing up the big oak tree outside Olivia’s bedroom, furious at Olivia’s punishment.

In a rush, Rafe remembered every sharp detail and regretted that he had made trouble for Olivia with her father. It seemed he had a rare ability to screw up her life.

Just then Olivia looked up and her face filled with color. Rafe could see nothing else but her soft mouth and the way her eyes sparkled.

“Feeling better, I see. But I think you should be resting. Sorry to interrupt, ladies.”

The nurses glanced at Rafe curiously, and Olivia introduced him.

The new deputy sheriff.

It still sounded strange to Rafe.

After quick assurances that they would drop by the new yarn shop for lessons with Olivia, the nurses left. Rafe sat down next to the bed and began piling snacks on her tray.

“What’s all this?”

“Lemon snack cake. Chocolate cupcakes. Corn chips. Coke. I figured I’d cover all the bases.”

Olivia laughed and the sound broke over Rafe like a cool rain after a parched summer. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed that laugh.

“You expect me to eat all that?”

“Not immediately. But given the reputation of hospital food, I thought you should stock up.”

Olivia reached for the cupcakes, then stopped with a frown. They had fitted her with a temporary brace, which made using her hand very difficult. “I hate being helpless,” she muttered.

Rafe opened the pastry and set it on the plate in front of her. “It’s only temporary. Have at it.”

“Only if you eat half.”

Rafe shook his head. “It’s for you. All of it.”

“Either we share or I’m not having any.” Her mouth set in a line, and Rafe smiled, remembering how stubborn she could be. “Fine. Half and half. So you’ll be giving lessons at the Harbor House when it opens?”

“As long as enough people are interested.”

“You have three students lined up already. Those nurses were ready to sign up right now.”

“The nurses that were here? Oh, they were nice, but they didn’t come here to learn about knitting.”

“No? It looked that way to me.”

Olivia studied his face and smiled slowly. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” Rafe didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.

“They came here to see you. Word is out that Rafe Russo is back on the island. They came here to check you out.”

Rafe ran a hand over his neck. “That’s crazy.” He stood up, feeling uncomfortable as he paced the room.

“Not at all.” Olivia tilted her head. “You’re a high-profile topic, Rafe. You always will be. You stir up strong feelings, whether you want to or not.” She started to say something else, then looked away.

Rafe wanted to ask her what it was.

But her face had filled with color again and he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. “Can I get you anything else before I go?”

She shook her head stiffly.

Rafe wondered what he had done to take the joy out of her face.

“Are you sure? I can stay here until one of your friends comes.”

“There’s no need,” she said quickly. “You probably have a lot of things to do. I don’t want to keep you. It was...nice of you to come by, though.”

Rafe hated this strained formality in her voice. He hated the restless way her good hand picked at the plastic wrapper on her tray.

Most of all, he hated the thought that he had once again done something to hurt her.

* * *

THE CLINIC STAYED busy throughout the night following the storm. Rafe helped out when extra stretchers had to be brought inside and an emergency generator needed to be carried up from the basement. As the night passed, he made occasional trips downstairs for coffee or sandwiches. But mostly he sat in the chair beside Olivia’s bed, watching her sleep.

Thinking about the past and the ways it could tangle up the future.

During that long night Olivia woke twice, staring around her in confusion until Rafe rested a hand on hers.

Each time she sighed and slid back to sleep as if his touch had assured her that everything would be fine.

* * *

WHEN OLIVIA AWOKE around 6:00 a.m, she stared up anxiously. Where was she? And why did her shoulder ache as if it had been hammered?

The storm.

The accident.

Blinking, she glanced across the bed and saw a tall man sitting in the chair nearby. She knew that lean face instantly. So Rafe was still here. It hadn’t been a dream fueled by the medicine they were giving her for her shoulder.

She swallowed hard, unable to take her eyes off his face.

“Hey. You’re awake.”

“You stayed here all night?”

He nodded. “Jilly called you and wanted you to call her this morning. I told her what had happened.”

“I feel strange. Restless. Medicated.”

“How about your shoulder?”

“It’s throbbing, but nothing terrible. Not like in the storm.” She closed her eyes at the memory.

Rafe stood up slowly, looking uncomfortable. “They’ll take good care of you. I don’t want to bother you. I’d better go.”

Olivia hated how much she wanted him to stay.

She glanced up at a knock on the door. “More nurses coming to check out the new deputy? News really does travel fast. Come in,” she called.