Butterfly Cove

There was something else. Something about that voice...

But her head was starting to throb and when he tried to lift her, something in her shoulder popped. A bone shifted and then ground against another joint.

She screamed at the sudden, blinding pain.

Dimly she felt him lean her back against the seat. He crouched beside her and touched her forehead. “You’ve got a dislocated shoulder. I heard that joint give way and I can see its position. I can set it back into place, and since I don’t know how long that ambulance is going to take, I think that would be best—if you agree.”

Olivia could barely understand him. Every fiber of her being was screaming madly from the pain in her shoulder.

“Do you understand? It’s going to hurt, but you’ll feel better. Nod if you hear me and if you agree.”

Olivia locked her jaw and managed one sharp nod of assent.

She hadn’t known it was possible to feel pain like this. It wiped out all her sanity and logic. She had to make it end.

“Do whatever. Just do it now. Make it s-stop.”

“We’ll get you through this.” He leaned closer, his chest against hers. He pulled off her scarf and opened the top of her sweater, touching her shoulder.

Olivia realized he was being as gentle as he could, taking time.

She didn’t want him to be gentle. “Just do it. Do it now. Whatever it takes.”

“Okay.” One strong arm slid around her back and his other hand locked. “This is some heck of a storm. They said to expect rain, but who knew the hillside would collapse. If there’s one thing I hate—”

Olivia’s mind was screaming for him to stop talking and make the pain go away. But she was following his words, slipping in and out of consciousness as he rotated her arm and then raised it, holding its position tightly. He was gentle, but the pain was excruciating, bone slipping against bone.

Olivia gasped and passed out.

* * *

IT WAS GOING to be one of those nights, the new deputy for Summer Island thought.

He got the children off to safety, crowding them into the police cruiser, which he had pulled to the side of the road. Once they and their teacher were safe, he checked on the status of the ambulance and the highway patrol. Neither was due for another six minutes. The first winter storm of the season had left traffic snarled along the coast for forty miles.

Officer Rafe Russo walked to the damaged car and took a deep breath. She looked thinner and more tired than he remembered, but Rafe had recognized her instantly. You never forgot your first love.

He was still shaken at seeing Olivia Sullivan and he was worried about her condition. She was unconscious now. He knew that the pain had been overwhelming. Dislocated shoulders were a bitch, no mistake about it. Rafe had had a few of his own, so he knew what Olivia was going through.

He shrugged out of his sweater and laid it over her for warmth as the temperature dropped. Then he zipped up his jacket and trotted back to the road. At least the flares had done the job. Traffic had slowed to a crawl, and he used another flare to guide cars slowly around the mudslide.

Rain crawled down the neck of his jacket, but Rafe ignored his discomfort. He was used to bad weather, to heat and flies. Afghanistan had taught him to stay focused in all situations.

Off in the distance red lights burned through the rain and he made out the outline of an ambulance. About time. The kids were shaken up. Their teacher was holding it together, but Rafe had learned that she was a diabetic, and she didn’t have extra insulin with her. He had already called in that information to the EMT unit so they would have the meds she needed.

Two more cars crawled past. A state police cruiser appeared. The window came down. “Looks like you could use some help here. I’ll park and take the other side.”

“I’d be glad for it. I’ve had my hands full with the mudslide.” Rafe turned up his collar against the pelting rain. “At least the ambulance is here. I’ve got somebody in my cruiser with a dislocated shoulder. Possible concussion. She needs to be looked at first.”

“I’ll pass that on.” The cruiser angled forward into a spot right behind Rafe’s vehicle.

It was barely 5:15 p.m. on his first day with the Summer Island Police Force.

He had dealt with two accidents. A mudslide. Crank call at the high school and a possible case of identity theft.

It was one helluva homecoming, Rafe thought grimly. He remembered the sound of the collision. At first he’d been angry. Then he had realized the driver was very brave, choosing the only space left to avoid hitting the van full of stranded children.

She’d kept the collision to minimum impact, despite zero visibility in the storm.

But Rafe wouldn’t have expected anything less of Olivia Sullivan. She had always been smart, always been thoughtful and careful. She did the right thing, no matter what. You could count on that.

A flood of other memories returned to haunt him. Rafe’s hands clenched. He didn’t figure well in most of those memories. They had been very close once. He had let her build up hopes that he couldn’t fulfill. In the end he had betrayed her.

Rafe had lived with that guilt every day since.

But now he had a job to do. He couldn’t allow Olivia’s warm breath or the soft, sweet pressure of her breasts against his shoulder to pull his mind away from all the things he had to do to stabilize the accident scene.

He had screwed up more times than he could count growing up as the town bad boy. He had mocked authority, been a petty thief, played hooky from school as often as he could get away with it and broken more than a few store windows. After one brief season as a football hero, he had given up on sports, too. He didn’t care for the male bonding, the authority figures or the relentless schedule.

Which was kind of funny, all things considered, because Rafe had joined the Marines as soon as he could, and that brought him right back to authority figures and relentless schedules.

But the Marines had given him a home, a focus and a discipline in his life. He would still be over in Afghanistan had it not been for the broken arm and shattered wrist from a fuel explosion that had nearly killed him.

When Tom Wilkinson, the county sheriff, had pitched him the offer of a job, Rafe had simply laughed. He was the last person anyone on Summer Island would expect to wear a uniform. But the sheriff had persisted, and he was a hard man to say no to. At one time, his son and Rafe had been good friends in high school. But Tom’s son had been killed in the Sangin Valley, and Tom looked pretty sick these days. Rafe hadn’t gotten all the details, but he gathered the diagnosis was inoperable, slow-growing cancer. Tom was signed up for experimental treatments in Portland, but he was getting weaker.

So Rafe had agreed, even though it was the last thing he’d planned to say. Saying yes had brought him here, with traffic snarled around him on a blocked coast road in a driving rain. It had brought him straight into Olivia Sullivan’s path on his first day of work.

The ambulance team jumped down and raced toward him. “Where’s the patient with the dislocated shoulder? Possible concussion, we were told.”

“I called it in. She’s right there in the backseat of my cruiser. I think she’s unconscious. I used the Spaso technique to reduce the dislocation.”

The two men moved toward the Jeep. “You knew how to do that? You see that kind of thing a lot here on Summer Island?”

“No. I saw it a lot over in Shkin and Kandahar. The Marines give you good field medical training.”

The man nodded. “Ex-Marine? Yeah, that would explain it. Nice job. We’ll take it from here.”

Rafe took a step back as the men stabilized Olivia and lifted her onto a gurney.

She was in good hands now. He told himself he could relax. He’d gotten pretty good dealing with bad traffic over in Afghanistan. At least he could assume that none of the locals were carrying pipe bombs or improvised explosive devices.

As the ambulance faded into the rain, Rafe thought about what Olivia would say when she realized he was back, and whether he could make amends for what he had done to her.

CHAPTER TWO

OLIVIA CAME AWAKE to the sound of rain slapping against windshield wipers. A siren howled. Disoriented, she tried to sit up, only to feel straps holding her in as she jolted back and forth in some kind of truck.

The restraints left her with a feeling of panic and she called out.

“It’s okay, ma’am. You were in a car accident. You need to stay still. We don’t want any more stress on your shoulder until you can be seen by a surgeon.”

Car accident.

Shoulder.

She remembered it all now. Mudslide. The storm. A minivan caught at the side of the road. “The children. Are they okay?” she said hoarsely.

“A-okay. They’re upset, but their teacher did a great job. So did you, ma’am. From what the deputy said, you acted fast. Otherwise you would have plowed straight into them.”

Olivia wasn’t so sure about how fast she had acted or whether it was the best choice. It had been all she could think of.

Her shoulder throbbed, but it was nothing like the agony she had experienced back in her car.

She remembered a man’s low voice. Strong arms had leaned close, locked her tight and gently rotated her arm until the joint popped into place. But there was something else...

Olivia remembered those dark eyes. That hard face. He had changed since she saw him last. He was tougher and older and he had an air of command.

But he was still Rafe Russo.

“Did you say sheriff?”

“Deputy sheriff. He assessed the trauma and relocated your shoulder. In fact, he did a fine job. I don’t think you’re going to need surgery.” The man looked up at the clock on the ambulance wall. “We just got notice of a six-car pileup. We’re going to drop you at the emergency care clinic in town. They’ll take care of you.”

Olivia barely heard, lost in the past. What were the odds that she would have an accident—and Rafe Russo would respond? It was a crazy way to find him after twelve long years.

An IV swung back and forth above her. They must have given her something for the pain. Drowsiness began to creep over her.

“He looks like...Daniel Craig. Rafe, I mean. Always was too gorgeous for his own good. He could have any girl in town.” Olivia frowned. “And he probably did.” Her eyes closed.

The woman in the uniform leaned down beside her and shone a light in her eyes. “No fixed pupils or signs of dilation. She’s stable. That deputy did a good job on her shoulder. And she is right about him. He does look a lot like Daniel Craig.”

Olivia tried to answer, but instead she fell away into dreams...and restless memories.

* * *

HE HAD ALWAYS been a loner, even at nine. Olivia had been fascinated by his sharp eyes and his tough independence. He answered to no one and he was always in or out of a fight. Ever since his father abandoned the family, Rafe had faced life the hard way, rejecting any offer of help. All through junior high and high school he cared for his young brother while his mother worked three jobs, but Rafe’s good traits ended at home.

Smart but doesn’t apply himself.

Bad attitude.

No respect for authority. No plans for the future.

Olivia knew what his teachers said, but she saw a different side of Rafe, one that was bright and eager and learned new things fast. With encouragement, he could do anything he wanted with his life, and she cheered him on with quiet support and occasional study sessions, carefully hidden from her father.

It was one of those study sessions that had nearly cost Olivia her virginity.

They had parked on the wooded cliffs above Butterfly Cove, arguing about the meaning of an English poem that was a major part of Rafe’s senior grade. When Olivia’s book fell, Rafe lunged to catch it, and they had landed in a sprawl against the seat.

One move. One touch.

Rafe whispered her name, and Olivia was swept into a hot, roiling madness that left her shaking and needing more. He had pulled her down across his hard thighs, his fingers sliding beneath her sweater, his lips on her face and then on her suddenly bared breasts.

Caught by desire, Olivia hadn’t understood what happened next. Her body had betrayed her and she had fallen into sunlight, while the heat of his mouth marked her burning skin. Then while pleasure still raced and snapped through her, Rafe had stopped abruptly.

Things had gone no further. Resolutely he had pulled away, straightened her clothes and started the engine. His hands shook as he told her that this could never happen again. She had a future too bright to ruin.

Olivia had argued, but he was coldly determined despite everything she said. Regret had left her aching and uncertain, but Rafe had assured her this was best.

Before she knew it he was gone.

Olivia found out he was working in a restaurant in Portland, but no one knew exactly which one. The next thing Olivia heard, he had joined the Marines.

He had never called, had never written to her. He had broken her heart in the process.

The memories sang through her tangled mind now, joy mingling with terrible regret. As she slid back into troubled dreams, Olivia remembered the heat of his mouth on her skin and the blindness of her desire as if it was only yesterday....

* * *

“WHY ISN’T SHE BACK? She should have been here half an hour ago.” Tall and slender, Caro McNeal paced anxiously.

Lightning cracked overhead. “Maybe there was an accident.” Walker looked up from the box of tools next to the kitchen sink. “It’s pretty bad out there. She probably got stuck in traffic. That coast road always becomes a mess in a storm.”

“But why doesn’t she call?” Caro paced some more. “And why doesn’t she answer her cell phone? I’ve tried her half a dozen times.”

Jilly gripped Caro’s shoulders, slid her into a chair and pressed a steaming cup of herbal tea into her hands. “She’ll be fine. You know Olivia. She’s got the best mind out there. If there was a problem, she took care of it. If she needed help, she’d tell us. Stop seeing problems that aren’t there.”

“She should call,” Caro muttered, then strode off to the window as an ambulance raced past.

Jilly knelt down next to her husband and slid an arm around his shoulders. “Some way to welcome you back from Colorado, Walker. I’m sorry to toss this plumbing thing into your lap, honey.”

“Not a problem. I like to tangle with plumbing now and again. After renovating that house in the mountains, I know a thing or two about flappers and snakes.” He scanned the toolbox and pulled out a long rubber tool. “This should do the job temporarily, but you’ll have to replace those gaskets.”

Walker watched Caro continue to pace anxiously. He gave a little nod at Jilly. “Why don’t you take Caro upstairs to rest. I’ll handle things here. I’ll keep trying Olivia on her cell phone. Maybe you could knock me out a cappuccino before you go.”

“But you’ve been trying to fix that plumbing for hours, honey.”

“And I’m finally making progress.” Walker glanced at Caro. “Go on. She needs to rest and I’ve got to beat some sense into this drain. And you, gorgeous, are distracting me,” he said with a low laugh.

* * *

AN HOUR PASSED. The storm winds continued to pound the coast, and there was still no word from Olivia. Jilly frowned and then dialed the hardware store.

“Yep, Olivia Sullivan was in here, but that was two hours ago. I hear there’s been some kind of mudslide on the coast road. Maybe she got caught in that. Traffic is backed up for miles in both directions. There was a bad accident above Butterfly Cove.”

Jilly fought a wave of panic. “What kind of accident? What happened?”

“Don’t know. Somebody told me a minivan from school was involved, but that’s all they knew.”

Jilly tried her friend three more times and got no answer.

Down in the kitchen, Walker was washing his hands at the sink, looking smug, the way a man did when he had just tackled a nasty plumbing problem.

“You did it?”

“That I did, though the supplies Olivia is bringing back will come in handy.”

Jilly rose on her toes and kissed him deeply. “My hero. But I’m worried. It’s not like Olivia to be out of touch for so long. She’s always hyper-responsible. And she left the hardware store hours ago. I called and checked.”

She took the cup of coffee Walker held out to her. “I’m going to try her cell phone one more time. Then I’m calling the police.”

When Jilly dialed Olivia’s number again, the phone rang twice. There was a click and a man answered. The voice was husky and rough, and he sounded tired.

Jilly frowned. “Who is this?”

The man cleared his throat. “This is Officer Russo. Who am I speaking to?”

Jilly gave a muttered oath. “Rafe? Rafe Russo?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, the party you are speaking to happens to be Jilly O’Hara. Olivia’s friend. Your friend, too, unless you’ve forgotten. Now will you kindly tell me where Olivia is?”

“She’s been in an accident. She’s at the emergency care clinic down on Admiralty Street. But don’t get yourself worked up. She’s stable and she’s going to be fine.”

Jilly’s hand clenched against her chest. “What—what kind of accident? What happened, Rafe?”

“Mudslide on the coast road. She managed to maneuver her car to avoid hitting a minivan full of kids, which was a brave thing to do. In the process, she spun around and slammed into my police cruiser. She got my attention.”

Jilly took a deep breath. “And she’s really okay?”

She squeezed Walker’s hand tightly as he stood beside her, giving silent support.

“I’m not lying, Jilly. Olivia is fine. They are going to keep her overnight for observation. She’ll have to watch that shoulder for a few weeks. No lifting. No quick movements. I just checked with the doctor, and they gave her something to make her sleep, but I’m going to stick around until she wakes up.”

Jilly frowned. Rafe was sticking around, was he? This had promise. Jilly had never found out what had gone wrong between the two of them back in high school, but it looked as if they were going to get a second chance.

“That’s great, Rafe. I’ll come right over.”

“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.”