Page 48 of Rafe

“What kind of doctor are you, Markie?”

“Veterinarian. That’s how Fred knows me.” Markie smiled. Mary nodded and smiled back.

Maggie watched Rafe mount his horse and as always, she thought he looked magnificent on that beast. She smiled when she saw him and Nate talking and laughing with other participants.

The announcer turned on the PA system, unleashing a piercing squeal that echoed through the air, causing everyone to groan and cover their ears. The racers were instructed to mount their horses, readying themselves for the competition. This year’s event had drawn a significant crowd, eager to witness the spectacle.

Rafe and the other riders pulled bandanas over their noses and mouths to shield themselves from the inevitable clouds of dust. Rafe’s rugged appearance was undeniable, looking like the essential cowboy. As he glanced across the street, his eyes met hers, and with a playful touch of the brim of his hat followed by a wink, he made her heart flutter. She couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across her face.

The sharp crack of a gunshot shattered the air, causing the crowd to flinch in unison. With a burst of energy, the racers surged forward, hooves pounding against the earth. Rafe, Nate, Warren Coleman, Trick Dillon, and Gage Beckett lingered strategically at the back, conserving their strength alongside a few others.

In no time, all that remained visible was the swirling dust kicked up by the horses’ hooves, veiling the riders as they vanished from sight. Maggie’s heart pounded in anticipation, her eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of their return. A few minutes later, the first riders reappeared, the crowd erupted into cheers, but her heart sank when she realized Rafe was not among them.

Markie nudged her, breaking her from her anxious thoughts. “What?” Maggie asked, the disappointment evident in her voice.

“Don’t look so disappointed,” Markie said, gesturing toward the returning riders.

Maggie’s laughter bubbled up as she spotted Rafe, his figure growing larger as he closed the distance with incredible speed. The crowd’s roar intensified as he maneuvered past Warren Coleman with a confident tip of his hat, crossing the finish line in a triumphant first place.

Overwhelmed with joy, she bounced on the balls of her feet, watching as Rafe smoothly dismounted without waiting for Rocket to come to a complete stop. With an exhilarating rush, she dashed across the street and leaped into his arms and pressed her lips to his.

“Congratulations,” she said, laughing when he picked her up.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said in a teasing voice.

“We’re going to celebrate tonight,” she whispered in his ear.

“Can’t wait for that.” Rafe grinned, then he turned to other riders who came to congratulate him.

Maggie watched as he shook hands with everyone, then she saw Fred and Mary coming toward them.

“Good race, son,” Fred said as he shook Rafe’s hand.

“Thanks, Fred.”

“You’re welcome. Well, Mary and I are going to walk around the fair. You two go celebrate.” Fred grinned as he took Mary’s hand, and they walked away.

“I want to get some funnel cake before we leave,” Maggie said.

“Alright, then I need to get Rocket home. He needs to cool down and get some extra oats.” Rafe grinned as he he took her hand, and the reins and they walked back to where the trailer sat.

Once there, Rafe tied Rocket to the back, then he and Maggie walked back to the fairgrounds.

She knew that he didn’t want to leave Rocket out too long, so they quickly got their funnel cakes and after loading the horse, Rafe drove them to his place where they spent the rest of the day just relaxing.

A week later, Rafe sat comfortably at the worn wooden kitchen table with Fred, savoring the rich aroma and warmth of their freshly brewed coffee, when the sudden sound of a firm knock echoed through the quiet room. Both men exchanged glances, curiosity flickering in their eyes. With a nonchalant shrug, Fred pushed back his chair, its legs scraping softly against the tiled floor, and made his way to the door. As he swung it open, Rafe’s eyes widened in surprise, his coffee momentarily forgotten, as he heard Fred exclaim, “Frederick, what are you doing here?”

Junior stepped into the kitchen, his presence filling the room, but halted abruptly when his gaze fell upon Rafe seated at the table. Sensing the tension, Rafe rose from his chair, his posture alert and defensive, prepared to stand his ground and protect Fred if necessary.

“Yeah…Junior, what are you doing here?” Rafe’s voice carried a mixture of curiosity and warning, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Junior’s response was curt, “I don’t think it concerns you, Marshall.”

Rafe’s retort was swift and sharp, “Anything that has to do with Fred concerns me,” he snapped, his protective stance unwavering.

“Calm down, Rafe. I’m sure he’ll only be here for a few minutes. Come inside and get out of the cold,” Fred suggested, gesturing for his son to take a seat at the table, but Junior stayed where he was.

“I’d like to speak to you in private,” Frederick said to his father, his voice steady but eyes fixed warily on Rafe.

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