But it’s only polenta, right?
The pack directions are simple enough, and I figure the old wood stove might need just a tad more wood to get some heat up.
I stack as much as I can into the little cast iron doorway from the scuttle of chopped wood before turning to read more directions and filling the old copper pan with water from the working faucet.
It’s an old style kitchen, but like so much in the house, Ben has it ready.
The counter, sink, and faucet are all modern, blending seamlessly with the older and original fixtures.
The only ‘old stuff’ I can see is the curtains as well as the linoleum floor.
Everything shifts so quickly I can’t decide if it’s something I’ve done or if it just seems to happen by magic.
I turn to put my pan on the stove, but see a cloth hanging over the iron door and the stove ignites.
Before I can blink, the flames from the same cloth spark life from the fire, and in no time, the curtains nearby are lit up too from the tall flames.
I reach for the nearest pan of water on the sideboard, and tossing it into the flames I scream.
It’s not water I’m tossing, but oil. Some sort of solvent Ben’s used to treat the timber.
On the other side of the stove, I didn’t think. I just reached for the pan of liquid and tossed it.
The whole wall behind and including the stove puffs to life. Blossoming bright orange-black flames in a second.
“Oh my god…”
Okay, I can handle this. I’ll just…
Nope.
This is bad.
Very bad.
I try to call out for Ben, I really do. But I know he’ll be so mad at me for being so stupid, ruining his whole house on our first night here together, I just freeze in terror.
My mouth is open, but I can’t even squeak a sound. I can’t even breathe.
Lights flash across my eyes and I figure I’m passing out from the fumes until I hear a piercing wail.
The smoke alarm sings and a sturdy body against mine scoops me up yet again, saving me for the second time in two days.
I try to stay conscious, but the black smoke floods my eyes until I can’t keep them open anymore.
Shadowy figures move and shout, although I can’t understand what they’re yelling about.
The lights aren’t all from just a fire either.
“I’m here baby, I’ve got you,” I hear a desperate voice gasping, cling to me, making sure I’m safe.
“Oh, Ben,” I groan. Knowing it has to be him. Knowing nobody else could save me.
But I’m wrong.
“Ben?” My dad’s voice rises. “Honey, it’s me. Dad. What the hell happened here?” he cries out, and I can already see his jaw turning towards the house.
Eyes hard, a thousand questions in his gaze once he can see I’m safe in his arms.
But I want Ben.
Where is Ben?
“Ben’s with the Sherriff and deputy, helping put out the fire. What happened here sweetie? My god, I should never have let you go,” he groans, clutching me closer to him.
But all I want is my Ben, and as soon as I get some breath back, I break free and run back towards the house, calling for the man I love.
Our home, our beautiful home. What have I done?
Ben’s strong arms grab me before I can reach the house.
“It’s okay,” he tells me a dozen times, telling me it’s a good thing the sheriff turned up when he did.
“It’s under control, Stacey. Just a small fire. God, I’m glad you’re not hurt. I don’t know what I’d do if...” he says but never gets to finish as he holds me, moving to kiss me.
I look up to kiss Ben, confused when I see him turn away, spinning on his heels.
There’s a growling roar, my dad swearing and calling him the worst names, and then a thud, followed by a man crying out in pain.
When I finally register what’s happening, my dad, the sheriff, and his deputy are surrounding us both.
Ben’s strong arm is holding me up as he holds a defensive finger to all of them.
My dad is holding his hand, looking like a bird with a broken wing.
The Sherriff and his deputy are just shadows to me really, I only look to Ben. Look up as I grip him harder, telling him I’m sorry over and over again.
The house isn’t badly damaged like he said it’s just a small fire. But something I know I’ll never forget.
But it’s not the recent memory of the smoke, flames, and damage to our new home that worries me so much.
It’s what I’m hearing from my dad and his new friends.
“You’re coming home now, Stacey. A hurricane and a fire? I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day, don’t you?” he asks bitterly.
He’s trying to stay calm, but I can see he’s been sorely tested. Pale and shaking with what I think might be worry but it turns out to be rage.
I guess he’s joined the dots about Ben and me.
I can hear Ben speaking for both of us in reply.
“Stacey is staying here with me, Greg. Let’s not add assault charges against her dad to the list of events in one day,” he snarls.
It’s clear to me it was my dad who swung out at Ben, and his limp, crumpled hand is the result.
“How could you, Ben?” is all my dad can reply, shaking his head and trying to clench a fist again before wincing in pain.
“It’s a strange business, Ben. But nothing this side of the law,” The Sherriff drawls, hooking his thumbs into his gun belt and sucking in his gut.
“I’m pretty sure Ranger Ben has stepped over the line regarding his so-called duties,” remarks Deputy Barbie.
She’s quietly gloating at the fact there’s trouble between Ben and my dad, and all without actually getting her hands dirty or trying anything much when it comes to a house fire and saving my life, I see.
“Stacey,” My dad barks. “Home. Now.”
I feel my head shaking, looking to Ben again for an answer.
I hear myself, almost shouting, I’m an adult. I can do whatever I want. But the Sherriff and deputy, even my dad all echo the same against us.
“A bad look for a Ranger.” Coos the Deputy to herself, patiently studying the back of her nails.
“Legal? Maybe technically… But now arson in a domestic dispute?” echoes the Sherriff with a malicious grin.
And finally, there’s my dad, just so hurt I won’t go to him over Ben.
Crushed by what he can see for himself, which is pretty obvious.
The love between Ben and me.
“You can all go to hell!” I shout, focusing on my dad.
“Ben saved me yesterday in the middle of a storm and I know it was him who did the right thing today. I’m twenty years old dammit! And I don’t have to do anything you tell me,” I hiss.
Ben’s hand on me loosens.
“Ben? You’ve got a world of questions to answer, buddy. Let the girl go and we can just talk,” The Sherriff says slowly, his hand moving to the butt of his revolver.
“Just go with ‘em,” Ben groans. “Just for now,” he adds.
“Looks like some kind of conspiracy or whatever you’d call it. I can look after myself, Stacey. But just wait for me. Know that I’ll come get you, no matter what,” he adds in a low tone
“I won’t leave you, Ben,” I tell him, making sure everyone else can hear.
“You have to. Just for now,” he assures me, his voice firm and steady.
Calmer than any other voice I’ve heard in the past hour.
“You’re mine, Stacey. And I’m yours. You know that now. I’ll come for you when the time is right. Just do what your dad wants for now. For me,” he murmurs.
I nod without question.
Ranger Ben is on the case, and I just know he won’t let any of this stop his plans.
It won’t stop or change anything between us.
Chapter Eighteen
Ben
It s
ickens me, plain and simple.
Why the hell the Sherriff and his deputy would even need to come out here with Greg.
But it’s them being here and their quick thinking that helped save Stacey and the house.
Even though they all seem to have it in for me once they realize I’ve been doing more than just putting a roof over her head the past few days.
She’s scared, angry, and confused, but for whatever reason, the law and my own best friend seem determined to make things harder for me if I don’t let Stacey go.
I’ll work something out, and I know Stacey won’t think I’m abandoning her.
Not after the night we just spent together. It’s something the others can’t see or understand.
Something bigger than all of them that holds Stacey and me together now.
“Can I at least get my things?” Stacey huffs, her eyes narrowed and seething with her own anger at her dad.
Her dad waits while she goes to get her things, passing me a slip of paper on her way past and despite everyone else watching us, she kisses me.
“Alright, alright,” her dad finally calls out, and the Sherriff reminds me I’ll have more than my own boss to answer to if he decides this house fire and romance is anything more than it appears.
“I have no idea what you mean by that Sherriff, but I can tell you all right now, you’re the only ones making a mistake. Any effort to interfere with my personal life from here on in will see all of you explaining it to a judge,” I growl, deciding I don’t want Stacey to go with them after all, why should she?
She moves to cling to me harder, but her dad snatches her away, wincing from his battered hand and promising me right back that I’ll never have to worry about him or Stacey in my life ever again.
“This ends now, Ben,” he snarls. “You’ve crossed more than a line. I trusted you. You...”
He can’t finish. Overcome with emotion, he grabs Stacey and her bags and turns away from me.
Deputy Barbie has something smartass to say, but I ignore all of them, turning back to the house myself, and setting to work cleaning up the mess to distract myself.
Hearing them pull away, I unfold Stacey’s note.
It’s her cell number with three simple words: I love you.
I hold it to my heart after memorizing the number and finding my phone, I punch it in and save it.
I guess I couldn’t have her all to myself straight away, but I will have her back.
We both know I will.
The kitchen is a mess, but it’s also a miracle nobody was hurt.
I set about cleaning up the worst of it, figuring I have a fresh project to work on starting tomorrow if nothing else.
Something to take my mind of things, give me some time to think about how to bring Stacey back.
Ah, Greg. I hope you can see reason once you calm down. Even if it’s just for Stacey’s sake.
I’m just cleaning myself up to try to and get some rest when my cell chimes.
I grab it feverishly, certain it’ll be Stacey but it’s not.
It’s the Sherriff again.
“What do you want?” I ask rudely, determined to never give this guy the time of day ever again. I’ll be lodging a few complaints of my own as soon as I get some rest.
“It’s business,” he replies sounding serious. “You’re the closest man on the ground and they don’t have much time left,” he says, not making any sense.
I sit up on the edge of the bed, my instincts telling me something’s wrong.
“What is it?” I bark. “Tell me everything,”
“Greg Gorman just called,” he says gravely, making me grimace. It’s a little too soon for me to even want to think about it all again.
“So?” I ask, ready to hang up until he tells me what’s happened.
“He was driving back home, against our advice and it appears he lost control of his car trying to cross a for—” he drones.
“Stacey!” I gasp, feeling the phone creak in my hand.
“They’re stuck, trapped. We’re on-route but you’re a good fifty miles closer than we are right now, even if we called for a chopper. I need you to get out there,” he continues, but I’m already reaching for my keys, grabbing the few extra things I’ll need.
“I’m on my way. Are there any casualties?” I ask coldly, dreading his reply.
“The driver, Mr. Gorman says he’s trapped his foot under the gas pedal from the accident and is hurt, his uh… passenger is uninjured,” he reports.
I breathe a sigh of relief.
“It’s bad news though, Ben. That ford is flooding. Run-off from a burst dam after the storm. The water’s already up to their waist and with her dad stuck, the girl won’t leave the car. Probably be swept away even if she did.”
“Jesus!” I exclaim. “Which Ford?” I ask, firing up my truck and speeding out into the night.
I know the area he mentioned, which is not too far.
“On route,” I tell him, flicking the emergency lights on and telling the sheriff to reach me by radio from now on.
As much as I’d like to punch the guy in the face, I know I’ll be seeing him sooner than later.
Keep it professional, Ben. Just keep it together until you have Stacey safe. You got this.
“I’ll be there as soon as I’m able, Ben. I’ve already called for a rescue response, but you’ll be the first responder. Do what you can—”
I hang up the phone, only thinking of Stacey now, and agonizing again over the quickest way to reach her.
Sealed roads are more likely to be free of debris, but they’re also slower.
If I cut through the park, I run the risk of coming across rockslides or fallen trees, the main offenders when it comes to blocked roads in the park after a big storm.
I can’t seem to get where I want quick enough, but keeping an eye on the time as well as the road as I travel at high speed, I can see I’m making good time.
I just hope it’s enough.
Killing the emergency lights as I get closer, I light up everything else with white light so I can see better.
The rain has returned and has started to fall, but it isn’t long before I see the ford, and the shape of a white car, teetering in the middle of a raging torrent.
It seems to be stuck on or has been hit by a floating tree, dwarfing the vehicle. Making it look like it’ll be swept away at any moment.
The roar of the water is loud enough to make shouting out useless, but I holler to the car, to Stacey. Telling her I’m coming for her.
The dark, brackish foaming water is past the door handles already, and it isn’t until I hear Stacey’s screams that I realize there’s not a second to lose.
It’s risky, stupid even. And it goes against all my training. I hook the longest rope I have to the front of my truck, hitching the other end to a harness I slip into.
Calculating quickly the amount of rope I’ll need, the apparent depth of the water, and the rate it’s running, I sprint upstream to a point I deem good enough.
I wade into the torrent, feeling for any debris under the water I can use to pull myself along.
There are some branches here and there from a submerged tree, but it’s barely enough to get me halfway out across the ford before I feel the ground under me disappear, my whole body sucked underwater and dragged in a direction I only hope is close enough to her car.
I manage to resurface, and choking a little on a lungful of water, I can see the car, maybe only a foot away, but I’m gonna pass it unless I can reach it.
I search in vain for a branch or something to hook onto before I bob past it, I tug on my rope with all my strength and kick against anything my feet can reach, the current easing me closer to the car.
I can see Stacey’s face, her dad’s too. The water is up to their chests now.
Not a second to lose.
I manage to reach the rear bumper, gripping any part of the car I can until I reach the driver’s door. It’s unlocked, but it
won’t open
Stacey’s face is white with horror, but she’s blinking like she can’t believe what she’s seeing.
I can’t believe how cold the water is and growl angrily once I struggle to find my rescue tools on my belt.
“I’m coming baby, just don’t move,” I instruct her, amazed that even now, Greg won’t even lift his head to look at me.
I know he’s conscious, I can see the side of his face. But pride is a terrible thing, and I know him well enough to know this isn’t how he wanted any of this to end.
The ultimate insult for him is to have me come rescue them both after what happened back at the ranch.
Using a small pry bar, I manage to force the door, which threatens to push me back out into the current once the water gets behind it, but I grip the interior even though I can’t feel my hands.
“Ben! Oh, Ben,” Stacey cries out, the look in her eyes enough to make me focus on what I’ve been trained to do.
“Undo your seatbelts,” command them both. “And hang onto whatever you can, for now, lift yourselves up above the water until I can free you both. It’s gonna be okay,” I tell them both, already feeling my teeth chatter from the freezing water.
“Just get her out, Ben,” Greg finally shouts. “I’m done, Ben. My foot’s smashed up under the gas pedal, I can’t even feel my legs anymore…”
“You’re both coming with me,” I assure him, feeling for my flashlight and taking a breath, I dive underwater long enough to see he’s right.
His lower leg is bent at a sickening angle, his foot crushed under the gas pedal.
A large section of a branch jutting through the floor of the vehicle is pinning it all in place.
The whole car suddenly pitches towards me, and I can hear Greg scream in agony before I resurface.
“This is gonna hurt,” I warn him, warn them both before I dive back down and using my pry bar, wrenching the pedal free from the car and pulling the branch back enough to free Greg’s foot.
I expect him to scream again, but he’s fainted from the ordeal.
Coming back up, I feel the heaviness of my clothes, my own numbness from the cold getting worse, and I see Stacey holding her dad’s head up for him to keep it out of the water.
Ranger Ben: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 10
