by T. L. Haddix
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you were thinking it.” She sat her mug down and rose, then crossed to him. Hands on her hips, she leaned into him, keeping her face straight. “You think because I’m a woman, I’m only good for cooking and cleaning, Campbell?”
His grin was slow and wicked. He sat his mug aside and moved his hands under her shirt. “Not just that. I can think of a couple other things.”
“You—ooh!” She smacked his shoulder lightly as he cupped her bottom with both hands and squeezed. “Chauvinist.”
The laugh that rolled out of him matched the light in his eyes, and Ainsley realized he was happy. That might not last, but right then, he was happy.
“Sweetheart, most women who look like you, and who cook like you can cook, don’t have to lift a finger if they don’t want to. You know that. It’s how the world works.”
Ainsley rested against him. “Well, this woman wants to be more than a pretty face, thank you very much. After I got sober, even with Doug being as sick as he was, I had more nervous energy than I knew what to do with. I started working on the farm, and I haven’t stopped. It’s been therapy of sorts. I’ll have you know that I’ve become quite the rancher in the last couple of years. I have calluses. I’ve earned them.” She held up her hand so he could see.
“I stand corrected.” He ran a thumb over her palm, then brought it to his mouth and kissed it. “As much as I’d like to spend the rest of the day half-naked with you, we’d better get around. Is the phone back on?”
“I haven’t tried it yet.” She went to the end of the counter and lifted the receiver from the phone on the wall. Silence met her ear. “No. Still out.”
“Then why don’t we get dressed and go by John and Zanny’s? They live just five minutes away, down in Lothair.”
Ainsley bit her lip. “You don’t think we should try to call first? Maybe from a pay phone? It’s barely past nine o’clock.”
“They have kids. Noah’s a little morning person. If he sleeps past eight, he’s sick. They’ll be up.”
“You’re sure they won’t mind us just dropping by? I don’t want to impose.”
He stepped up to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m sure.”
“They’ll know you spent the night.”
Ben stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and frowned down at her. “Is that a problem?”
“No. I… contrary to popular belief, I don’t do this. Ever. I’m not quite comfortable in my own skin just yet. They’ll know we didn’t spend the night platonically. That’s a little weird for me, Ben. I’m not ashamed. It’s just new. Awkward. Private.”
He tugged on the end of a lock of hair that was resting on her breast. “You know John, and you’ve met Zanny. They’re not judgmental. Can you trust me on this?”
For a long moment, she hesitated. She didn’t want to say yes if she couldn’t bring herself to face them. Finally, she nodded. “Okay.”
His eyes softened, and the dimple appeared in his cheek. “That’s my girl.”
Oh, how she wished that were true.
It took a little longer than usual to get dressed, as Ben kept her laughing the whole time. He was more playful than she’d ever seen him, though he wasn’t goofing off by any stretch of the imagination. She wondered if he was deliberately keeping things light after her confession the night before.
Somehow, she knew if she’d told him the whole story, that the child she’d lost had been his and not Doug’s, he wouldn’t be with her still. She felt a little guilt over that omission, but until and unless a more permanent arrangement developed between them, she would keep that truth to herself. She saw no need to hurt him by telling him everything if it wasn’t necessary. She’d already hurt him enough when she broke up with him.
Knowing that they would be doing manual labor, she wore the oldest clothes she felt comfortable wearing out in public—a pair of blue cotton cargo shorts and a flowered tank top. She paired the outfit with her running shoes.
“Good?” she asked Ben, holding her arms out to the side.
“Very good. Now I look like something the cat dragged in,” he teased, mimicking her positioning. His pants and shirt were hopelessly wrinkled, and he looked rough. But instead of decreasing his appeal, the roughness enhanced it.
“Maybe we should just stay here,” she murmured, not bothering to hide her appreciation as she tugged on his belt. She remembered Byrdie, however, and sighed. Though she was recovered, her knee wouldn’t make it up the long hill. “But we can’t.”
The driveway was scattered with small branches and leaves. A few small limbs were out of the trees, and Ainsley slowly shook her head. “I wonder just how widespread the damage is. I knew the storm was bad. How was it coming in?”
“Not too bad. I think there were some strong gusts, which is probably what happened to your tree.” He reached out, and Ainsley slipped her hand into his without hesitation. She felt like a teenager again, on a date with the most handsome boy in the world. The giddy feeling made her smile, then laugh.
Ben didn’t ask what was funny, just grinned at her and tightened his hand.
She gave in to her curiosity and asked about his family. “So is John a good brother?”
“He is. Mr. Dependable, even when we were young kids. Which is not to say he’s perfect, but he’s as solid as they come. All my family is.”
She smiled at him, more than a little envious. “You’re very lucky.”
“I know.”
“How did he and Zanny meet? You told me they hit a rough patch earlier this year.”
“They did. It was a very rough patch. They separated for a while. I’m so glad they worked things out. But as to how they met?” Ben chuckled. “Well, that’s a story. Zanny’s my age. We were in the same class, me, her, Emma. And this kid named Burke Lockhart was picking on Zanny. You know how little boys are when they like a girl. Sometimes, they aren’t so sweet. And he wasn’t sweet. He pushed her on the playground, and she fell.”
“Oh, poor little thing. Kids can be so mean. How old were you all?”
“The three of us were seven. John was nine. And Zanny was a tiny little thing. Emma got to her before I could, and then she turned on Burke. So John met Zanny for the first time after he pulled Emma off the bully who’d pushed her.”
“Good for Emma. I hope she hit him hard.”
They’d reached the curve in the driveway where it started down the steepest part of the hill, and Ben pulled her to a stop and into his arms. “Oh, you’re bloodthirsty, huh?”
“A little. Did she?”
“She did. She bloodied his nose.”
“I like your sister already.”
He held her loosely, dancing them around in a slow circle, and laughed. “Funny thing about Burke is that he’s with the state police now. And he’s been hanging around Emma since she came back to town. She and Zanny swear there’s hope for him yet.” He gave her a brief kiss. “Best I recall, you had a bully of your own to contend with, of a sort. Elliot?”
Ainsley grimaced. “He is. That’s part of why I was so upset last night. I saw him yesterday at lunch with Hershel. We aren’t close anymore. It wasn’t pleasant.”
Ben touched her face. “I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is. Elliot and our dysfunctional relationship was unfortunately one of the casualties when I got sober. It’s for the best.”
He bent to kiss her again, but paused when a loud buzzing started. “That’s a chainsaw.”
“Sounds like it.” She kept her hand in his as they walked toward the sound. When they rounded the curve, the fallen tree near another curve at the foot of the driveway was plain to see. So were the men working on clearing the road, next to a pickup truck. “Isn’t that John?”
“And my cousin
, Rick. This is convenient.”
They picked up the pace, and the men looked up as they approached.
“Hey, hey. You’re just in time.” John smiled at them and turned off the chainsaw.
“I knew we should have stayed up top a little longer,” Ben joked. “Ainsley, you know my brother. This other ugly mug is my cousin, Rick Browning. He’s a deputy sheriff.”
Ainsley offered the handsome man her hand and a smile. “Hi.”
Rick grinned back at her as they shook. “Hi. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“How did you guys know about the tree?” Ben asked.
“I was on patrol last night, drove up the road here as part of my routine.” Rick gestured over the embankment where the driveway turned off the road. “Saw your truck parked at the bottom, decided to investigate a little. The tree’s presence explained the truck. I swung by John’s this morning, commandeered him. Thought we’d give you a hand.”
“Speaking of my truck… What’d you do? Hotwire it? Dad’s the only one with a spare key.”
Just then, a tall man who looked remarkably like Ben came around the curve, a rope in his hands. “Found it. Oh, hello.”
Ainsley was standing close enough to Ben that she heard him swallow. “Hey, Dad.”
“Dad? I was hoping you had an older brother you’d forgotten to mention,” she groaned under her breath, mortified. It was one thing for John to be there and to know Ben had spent the night. But Ben’s father?
Before she could run back up the hill, Ben was making the introductions. “Dad, this is Ainsley. Ainsley, my father, Owen Campbell.”
The spots of embarrassed color on Ben’s cheeks normally would have amused her, but she had a flaming face of her own to contend with. “Mr. Campbell.”
When he smiled, the resemblance to Ben was eerie. He was older, and his hair was darker, but there was no doubting the two were closely related.
“Owen, please. Mr. Campbell was my father.”
John was watching them closely, a mischievous smile playing around his lips, but he didn’t say anything. He just winked at her.
“Owen, then.” A sudden bout of shyness struck her, and she looked to Ben for guidance.
He shrugged and squeezed her left hand, which he still held. “Let’s get to work.”
Even with four people working, they took a while to get the large branches cut off the tree so they could get to the main trunk. The massive oak was probably sixty or seventy years old, and seeing its destruction made Ainsley a little sad.
“What do you want to do with the wood?” Owen asked.
“Honestly, I don’t know. Do you want it? It’ll make good firewood.”
“Sure. If you’re certain you don’t want it.”
She shrugged. “I won’t be here. After we wrap things up in a couple of weeks, I’ll be going back to Lexington.”
Ben, who walked past her as she spoke, stopped. “That soon?”
“Yes. I’ve already stayed longer than I anticipated.”
His expression was hard to read as he went on past. Ainsley stared after him for a minute, then turned back to Owen. Ben’s father had a speculative look on his face, and he glanced from her to Ben and back.
“Things will work out the way they’re supposed to,” he said softly. “Give it time.”
The kind acceptance in his demeanor made her want to cry. She nodded, unable to speak, and grabbed a handful of loose branches. She wished she had his confidence and faith.
“We can move the logs over to the side of the drive if you want, and I can bring my truck back down for some of it,” Owen offered. “We’ll fill Ben’s up today and try to get the rest over the next couple of days.”
“That’s fine. I appreciate the help here today.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Owen said. He smiled then, Ben’s smile, and Ainsley’s heart broke a little. For what had to be the ten thousandth time, she wondered if her child would have looked like Ben.
Ben was quiet after that, and so was Ainsley. Hearing the timeline for her departure laid out in stark terms had brought a definite pall over them both. She wondered if that meant he didn’t want things to end, or if he was counting the days until he was rid of her. Just because they would be living in the same city, that didn’t mean they would be together, and she would be wise to remember that.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Two weeks. It wasn’t enough time.
Ben was starting to get the idea that Ainsley’s leaving five years ago had been a lot more complicated than he’d been led to believe. Still torn on whether he wanted to dig for answers or keep things superficial, hearing her put a time estimate on her departure disturbed him.
John picked up on his distraction. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Ben glanced over his shoulder to where Ainsley was chatting with his dad and Rick. “She’s leaving in two weeks.”
“I know that’s the plan. You thinking about trying to change it? The two of you looked awfully happy when you came down the hill.”
Ben rubbed his chest, where an ache had settled. “I don’t know.”
The look on his brother’s face told him John understood his dilemma. “Whatever you decide, I’m here if you need me.”
“Thanks.”
They’d just finished moving the last section of trunk out of the way when a small beige car pulled up in front of Ben’s truck, and Byrdie got out. She walked up to them, hands on her hips, examining the mess.
“Power out up top?” she asked Ainsley.
“Yes. Phone, too.”
“Figured as much.” She examined Ben head to toe, no doubt taking in his wrinkled clothes and unshaven jaw. After the inspection, she turned to Owen. “This one your pup here?”
“He is, and so’s the one next to him. He hasn’t been causing you any trouble, has he?”
When John snickered from beside him, Ben casually elbowed him in the stomach. He saw Byrdie’s lips twitch, though she didn’t take her eyes off his father.
“Oh, not too much. I’ll let you know if that changes.”
“Please do. He isn’t too big to take a switch to.”
“Dad!” Ben’s cheeks heated as everyone laughed. “You’ve never raised a hand to me.”
The look Owen leveled on him was mostly playful. “It isn’t too late to start if you get out of line. I take it Ainsley is your ‘pup,’ then?” he asked Byrdie.
Byrdie smiled. “She is.”
“I’ll hold Ben down if you need me to,” John volunteered. He grabbed Ben from behind, clasping his hands together in front of Ben’s chest, and lifted him off the ground a couple of inches.
“Geez, what are we? Twelve again?” Ben protested, trying to break John’s hold. “Let go.”
“No. This is the first time since you were twelve or thirteen that I’ve had the chance to embarrass you in front of a girl. I’d have to turn in my brother card if I let go now.”
Ainsley giggled softly, enjoying their antics. Ben winked at her. “If you don’t let go, I’ll tell Dad whose idea it really was to turn the pond into a water slide.”
“Ain’t skeered. And it wasn’t my idea.” Despite his protestations of innocence, John let him go with a rough tousle of Ben’s hair.
Owen shook his head. “Oh, I know whose idea it was. I’ve always known it was Emma and Zanny. You kids just about gave me a heart attack that day. I told Sarah we should have just had boys, but no. She insisted on giving me three girls. More trouble than the boys, by far,” he told Ainsley.
Ben watched her eyes widen, her mouth dropping open with surprise. “I beg your pardon?”
Owen shrugged, hands spread. “What can you do?”
After a few seconds, she snorted out a huff of laughter, her face clear
ing. “I’ll bet you wouldn’t trade those girls for boys, either, even if you had the chance.”
“Of course not.” He smiled. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t hope their children put them through some of the things they put us through.”
They moved the last of the tree off the driveway, leaving only small debris that could be driven over easily.
“You all should come up to the house, get something to drink,” Byrdie suggested. “It might not be cold, but it will be wet.”
John grinned. “That sounds like a good—”
“Appreciate the offer, but we’ll head back over to John’s,” Owen told her with a smile as he clasped John’s shoulders from behind. “Maybe a rain check?”
John didn’t give up easily, though. He faked a cough. “Dad, I’m thirsty.”
Owen moved his arm to hold John in a loose headlock. Since he was standing behind him and slightly uphill, he held him easily. “You’ve teased your brother enough for now,” Ben heard him mutter. “If you’re good and go quietly, I’ll buy you ice cream.”
“I like ice cream,” Rick piped up with a wicked grin as everyone laughed.
“Fine, but I get sprinkles and whipped cream. Three scoops,” John said.
Byrdie, still chuckling at them, started toward her car. Owen stepped over to Ainsley and held out his hand. When she clasped it, he bowed over it.
“It was a pleasure. Let Ben know if you need anything else, and we’ll be here. You should come to dinner tomorrow at the farm. You and Byrdie.”
Ben barely kept from wincing when he saw the instant alarm that flared in Ainsley’s eyes at the offer. Her face flushed, and her discomfort spoke volumes.
“I appreciate the offer, but I have plans. Maybe another time?” she asked tentatively.
“Consider it a standing offer. Ben, we’ll see you at the house later?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Dad.” He gave Owen a one-armed hug as he passed.
