Free What Lies Within by Karen Ball Page B

“Where’d you find flowers in the desert?”
    Rafe picked up a rag and wiped down the counter. “The little girl whose photo is with the flowers? She gave ’em to me. Just came up and held them out. She’d been trailing after me for days. I guess she decided she liked me. When I hesitated to take them, she opened the pocket on the side of my camos and slid them in.”
    “You wouldn’t take flowers?”
    Rafe shrugged. “Didn’t trust anyone. Couldn’t. I’d seen too many guys who did, and it cost them their lives.”
    “So she gave ’em to you anyway, huh?”
    “Yeah. My buddies got a kick out of it, this little bit of a kid comin’ up to a guy with a gun and giving him flowers. One of ’em took a picture with his new digital camera. Said he was going to print it out and give it to the little girl.”
    “Did he?”
    Every time he told the story it got to him, but he schooled his features not to let it show. “Didn’t get the chance. She and her family were killed when a suicide bomber attacked a nearby marketplace.”
    The customer halted mid-drink, his gaze riveted to Rafe’s.
    As hard as Rafe tried, he couldn’t escape the blow of that memory. If only he’d taken the flowers, opened his hand to a little girl.
    The man lowered the cup from his lips, then looked down. After a beat, he let out a pent-up breath. “You’re right. It’s great coffee.” He looked up at Rafe and held out a hand. “Doug Franklin.”
    Rafe shook the proffered hand. “Rafael Murphy.”
    “Well, Mr. Murphy—”
    “Rafe.”
    The man inclined his head. “Rafe, I don’t generally come to places like this. Too froufrou for me. But the guys on the job said your place is different. I can see they were right.” He lifted the cup in a salute. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    Rafe tipped his chin. “Look forward to it.”
    The jingle of the bell over the door signaled another customer had entered, and Rafe saw three of his regulars coming in.
    No doubt about it. His business was a success, and then some. It brought him great satisfaction and a reason to get up every day. But he never imagined it would bring him the dream he’d given up so many years ago.
    The dream that was Kyla Justice.

SEVEN   
    “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”

M ARK T WAIN

“But when you ask him, be sure that you really expect him to answer, for a doubtful mind is as unsettled as a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind.”

J AMES 1:6
    R afe saw it the moment she pulled up outside his shop. Kyla’s car, easing into the parking space.
    She was back. He held his breath.
Come on, Kyla … come inside …
    Seemed like he’d been wooing this woman most of his life. Even back when she was just a friend …
    Friend? Who you tryin’ to kid? You’ve been in love with her from the time you met her
.
    In love? Hardly. He’d been twelve. It was a crush, nothing more. Still …
    He allowed himself a smile as he remembered. It might not have been love, but he’d had as serious a crush on Kyla as a kid that age could have. He glanced at her again. She’d been beautiful back then.
    She was stunning now.
    Come inside
 …
    As though she’d heard his silent call, she nodded, then turned to push open the car door and, her steps firm, walked around her car and headed for the door.
    His heart raced as he watched her, waiting for her to look at him. One step, two, and then she stopped, eyes drifting shut, and inhaled.
    Ahhh.
    Rich, dark, earthy … the fragrance of fresh-roasted coffee filled her senses. Though her fingers remained disciplined, her taste buds took up the tap dance.
    Oh yes, she needed this.
    Coffee. Was there anything more enticing, more uplifting than coffee? Not just any coffee, of course, but
good
coffee. The