She could hear the smile in his voice.
“So I’ll see you in a half hour or so?” Ben asked.
“Yes,” Sara said. She punched the end button and stood for a moment, staring at the screen.
For the past two years, since the defection of her fiancé, she’d avoided men. It was ridiculous, she knew. No one in Boulder knew her father. There was no way Hollis could have manipulated anyone into dating the rancher’s daughter.
No, that wasn’t it. The bottom line was that she no longer trusted her judgment. How could she have missed all the signs pointing to the fact that the man she was about to marry wasn’t in love with her?
Why was she suddenly willing to take a chance again? Yes, that was the question running through her mind. Why now? Why Ben?
How had he moved past her defenses so easily? She respected Ben, and more than that, she was beginning to really like him as a person. But it was the growing attraction between them, which she was unable to deny, that really worried her.
They were competing for the same job, the same chance for a future in Paradise.
Sara pulled her keys from her pocket and sighed. She knew the symptoms and could identify the diagnosis clearly. Someone was going to end up with a serious case of heartache. Most likely her. Yet here she was, ignoring the flashing lights and sirens, unable to resist the temptation Ben Rogers presented.
Chapter Eight
Sara drove right past the cabin. She sat in the Jeep for a moment, perplexed. Backing up the car, she stopped and stared.
Yes, it was Ben’s cabin, but with a brand-new porch, and something had changed with the yard. The tall overgrown bushes guarding the driveway were gone. No wonder she’d missed the turn.
The front door opened, and Ben stepped outside and leaned against the railing. No fair. He’d showered and changed. Now he stood there with his dark hair wet and combed back, looking like an ad for something dangerously masculine.
“What do you think?” he called out.
Sara opened her car door. “Wow, it’s beautiful. Who did this?” She pulled a sweatshirt from the front seat and tugged it on over her dusty shirt.
“I’m guessing Orvis, Anna and their son the carpenter. I’ve only been gone twelve hours, so they must have had help.”
“A porch-raising party. Too bad we missed it.” Sara moved up the steps, stopping to run her hand over the smooth pine of the handrail. “He’s quite the craftsman.”
“You said it.”
“So do you paint this or stain it?”
“I’m going to have to confer with the porch fairy and get back to you.”
“I thought you were into this stuff,” she said as she walked back and forth, admiring the new planks.
“I thought so, too, until I came home and saw my porch.”
She laughed and leaned over the rail. “Did someone clean up the front yard?”
“Yeah. The lawn boy.”
“What? You hired a lawn boy? Isn’t that contrary to your do-it-yourself credo?”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “It would be, except that I’m the lawn boy. I did the yard.”
She turned toward Ben and laughed. “Nice job.”
“Thanks.”
“What do you have there?” she asked, nodding toward a foil-covered plate on the porch floor.
Ben turned and frowned. “Now how did I miss that?” He picked up the dish. “Someone must have dropped it off when I was in the shower.”
“It’s pie,” Sara said, unable to hold back her glee. She knew only too well where that pie came from.
Ben peeled back the foil, revealing a deep golden-brown crust. Slices of light brown peaches bathed in a thick caramel juice peeked through the slits in the crust.
“Yum. Homemade peach pie,” Sara said.
“Who leaves peach pie on doorsteps?” Ben asked.
“You aren’t from around here. This is trademark Bitsy Harmony.”
His eyes rounded. “Great. They found me.”
“That was inevitable. But once you taste this pie, you’ll be forgiving. Trust me. Bitsy is known throughout the county for her pies. Grown men have been brought to their knees by Bitsy’s pies.”
“Sara.” Ben released a frustrated breath. “It’s not the pie I’m concerned about.”
“Stop worrying. We’ll find a project for Bitsy and her crew.”
He glanced around his yard, brow furrowed. “Apparently not fast enough.”
Sara raised her head and sniffed the air. Her stomach growled in response. “Now I smell steak.”
“Yeah, come on. And hurry—I need to turn them, or we’ll end up eating peanut butter and jelly instead of Kansas City strip steaks.”
Sara followed Ben through a maze of boxes stacked in the cabin and out the backdoor. As she stepped into the little yard she stopped and did a double-take.
The lawn was a neatly cut green carpet that stretched to the perimeter, which was marked with a border of conifers. Closer to the house, beneath a cluster of tall aspens, a picnic table was set up, complete with a checkerboard tablecloth and dishes.
In the trees above the table, glass canning jars filled with short, squat white candles were suspended with wire. To the right, a hammock hung from a metal stand swayed gently in the late-afternoon breeze.
“Oh, my goodness. This yard is amazing. Did you do this, as well?”
Ben shrugged, then opened the lid of a monster stainless-steel-and-black porcelain gas grill. Smoke billowed out as he flipped the steaks with metal tongs. “I went into Monte Vista after my fiasco in town and picked up yard stuff. And I ordered the grill at the local hardware store.”
“Nice grill. Looks like it will do everything but the dishes.”
“Pretty much.”
“So where did you pick up the dog?” she asked.
“Dog? What dog?”
Sara pointed to a chaise lawn chair where a small, dirt-colored mutt with matted fur was stretched out, watching them hopefully.
“That one,” she said. “Nice touch, by the way.” She waved a hand slowly around the yard. “This looks like it’s ready to be photographed for a magazine.”
Ben blinked as though he was seeing things. “He’s not mine.”
“I don’t know. He looks awfully comfortable. Are you sure he didn’t come with the place?”
“What he looks is dirty.”
“Yes. Now that you mention it, he does. Goodness, his fur is all matted and full of briars. And he looks hungry, too. Poor thing.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” Ben warned.
“Oh, come on.” She put her hands on her hips and gave him her most indignant stare. “It’s just a dog. A little one, too.”
“I’m serious, Sara. It’s not good to get emotionally attached to a stray dog.”
She laughed, because that was pretty much the silliest thing she had ever heard. “Life is all about getting emotionally attached to stray dogs, Ben.”
He released a breath. “Okay then—you live on a ranch, you take the little dog back with you.”
“I’ve brought home my share of strays. Plenty, believe me. Right now I’m only staying at the ranch temporarily.” Sara narrowed her eyes and looked him up and down. “Have you ever even had a dog?”
“No. I told you, my parents traveled a lot when I was growing up. Missions and all. And, well, my condo has pet restrictions.”
Sara smiled as she slowly sat down on the chaise next to the animal, allowing him to sniff her. “Of course it does. So this is perfect.”
Ben plopped down into a chair opposite her and narrowed his eyes. “How do you figure?”
“Mutt here needs a home, and you need a roommate.” She lifted her shoulders at the simple logic.
“He might already have a home,” Ben offered.
“Doubtful.” She stroked the pup on his head, and he leaned into her fingers, eyes closed, enjoying the attention and the massage. “No collar, and look at his condition. I’d say someone dropped him off.”
“People do that?”
“Up here? Yes, all the time. You’d be surprised. Need to get rid of your dog or your cat, then take them on a one-way trip to the country. After all, animals love the country. Right? What they don’t realize is that most of the time these animals become a tasty lunch for the mountain critters.”
Ben’s face mirrored horror and disgust. “Okay. Okay. Fine.” He ran a hand over his face. “He can stay—for a little while. But that’s all I’m committing to.”
Sara perked up at his words. That was all she needed. Mutt here was as good as adopted.
“And what makes you think I need a roommate?” Ben asked, suspicion steeling his voice.
“You’re all alone out here, Ben.”
“I told you. I like alone.”
“No one likes alone.” Sara said the words softly.
Ben stared at her, looking confused. With a frown, he got up. “I have to get the corn from the house.”
“Could you get a bowl of water, too?”
“You need a bowl of water? For what?” he fairly growled.
“For Mutt, of course.”
“Mutt? You’ve named him Mutt?”
Sara smiled serenely.
“Mutt,” Ben mumbled under his breath, and shook his head as he went into the house.
Sara continued to stroke the small dog. She leaned down next to his floppy little ear and whispered, “Don’t let him scare you. Ben’s really a marshmallow on the inside. You’re going to be very good for him. He thinks he’s a loner, but he’s not.”
Mutt looked at her with his big brown eyes, as if he understood that they had to be patient with Ben. After all, anything really good was worth waiting for.
Sara smiled in complete agreement.
* * *
Ben figured he could sit here all night with Sara. The two of them lounged on his new lawn chairs, relaxing after their steak dinner. Above their heads the candle jars glowed, bathing them in a soft light as the sun began a slow descent in the evening sky.
Sara sighed. “This is really nice.”
“It is.”
“Thanks for dinner. That was probably the best steak I’ve had in a long time, too.” She cleared her throat. “But don’t tell the Cattle King I said that.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” Ben said. “This was the least I could do after you played tour guide.”
Sara nodded. “We’ll do it again sometime. There’s still a lot more to show you.”
“I’ve already gained quite a bit of knowledge because of today’s trip.”
“Oh?” she queried.
“Well, I can definitely see how getting up there in the winter could be a problem. But what I haven’t figured out is a solution.”
“We’ve talked about snowmobile teams,” Sara said.
“Like a volunteer service?”
“Yes. On-call teams. Like the volunteer fire department in Paradise.”
“Definitely would be well utilized. Has anyone considered a mobile clinic?” Ben asked.
“A mobile clinic?”
“Like bloodmobiles, in RVs or buses.” He shook his head. “Why not utilize a clinic on wheels that would make stops in the community, bringing immunizations, minor medical appointments, vision testing to the community? In the summer, it could visit those RV camping sites to tackle minor first-aid issues.”
“That is a seriously awesome idea,” Sara said, her eyes wide with excitement.
“I thought so. In fact, your free clinic could operate from the clinic on wheels.” He frowned. “That reminds me. Have you heard how Eddie’s doing?”
“I’m sorry,” Sara said. “I forgot to tell you. The hospital called on my way over. No complications. They’re monitoring his neuro status, and he’ll probably be discharged on Monday with a nice cast and a dozen sutures.”
“Good. I like Eddie. He’s a nice kid.”
“There are a lot of nice folks in Paradise,” Sara commented.
“Yeah. I’m starting to agree.”
“Despite your concerns about the Ladies’ Auxiliary?”
Ben gave her a short smile. “The jury is still out on them.”
They were silent for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts, when she finally spoke.
“Ben?”
“Hmm?” He turned to Sara.
“I’m sorry about your sister.” Her brows were knit with concern as she said the words. “I don’t presume to know your grief, and if I said anything that was out of line when we were talking today, I apologize.”
“No worries, and ah, thanks.” There was nothing more to say. Life had been one continuous condolence for the past six months. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.
Just for tonight, he wanted to stop being sorry.
“Why did you let me babble on about your stethoscope?”
“You weren’t babbling.”
“You know what I mean. Why haven’t you mentioned this before?” she asked.
“It’s only been six months, Sara. I wish I could talk about it...but I can’t.”
“Fair enough. But when you want to talk, well, just know that I’m here.”
He nodded.
She shifted, and Mutt stirred in her lap.
“He’s snoring,” Ben noted.
“Poor thing is exhausted after that bath I gave him.”
“You’re going to smell like wet dog,” Ben said.
“Oh, I don’t care.” She shrugged. “I can’t smell much worse than I already do.”
“You’re kind of an unusual woman.”
“Me?” She looked at him.
“Yeah, I’m not accustomed to low maintenance.”
“And that’s kind of sad, isn’t it?” Sara looked from the pitiful pup to him and sighed.
“Well, most of the women I know aren’t part wilderness scout either,” he teased.
Her lips twitched. “I’m glad I could fill that void in your life.”
Ben grinned at her response.
Once again a comfortable silence stretched between them. Finally, Sara glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to get going. Church tomorrow.”
Reluctant to end the evening, he listened but didn’t answer as she kept chatting.
“It’s a nice little church right in downtown Paradise. Small congregation. You should stop by sometime.”
“I’ll give that some thought,” he said.
“Don’t think too much, Ben. I’m guessing that’s one of your talents.”
Ben narrowed his eyes at her challenge. “Does the Ladies’ Auxiliary gang attend there?”
“They aren’t a gang. And yes, they do. There’s a spot set aside for their Harleys.”
He chuckled.
Mutt whined as Sara slowly stood and set him on the ground. “Mutt is getting spoiled already.”
“So that’s really his name?”
Sara nodded. “Yes. I like it.” She reached for the stack of dishes on the picnic table.
Ben’s hand collided with hers, and they both froze. “Leave them,” he said.
“I’m only going to bring them in the house. We’re going that way, anyhow.”
He shook his head, knowing there was no point arguing. Sara liked to get the last word. Family trait, he figured. Ben held the door open for her, and the little dog trailed into the house, as well.
“Just set them in the sink.”
Sara looked around the cabin like she had the first time she’d s
topped by, as though there was some secret to unearth about him in the place.
“Interesting decorating choices.”
“The boxes or the boxes?”
“Both.” She turned around. “Does that fancy coffee machine really make good coffee?”
“It sure does.”
“It certainly is pretty, I’ll give you that.” She bent over and examined the sleek stainless steel, touching the knobs.
“I could make you an espresso,” he offered.
Her eyes lit up before she shook her head. “I better not. If I drink it now, I won’t have a chance of sleeping. Next time.”
“Sounds good,” Ben murmured. Yeah, he definitely liked the sound of next time.
Mutt began investigating the cabin, alternately trotting around, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor, and stopping to sniff the old furniture.
“Am I going to have to take this dog outside to do his business?”
“Don’t worry,” Sara said. “Mutt will train you in the basics. He’ll tell you exactly what he needs.”
“That’s the part I’m worried about.”
She shook her head, letting him know in no uncertain terms that Mutt was staying with him.
“What about work?” he asked.
“What about work?” she returned as she pulled her car keys from a pocket.
“I can’t leave him home in the cabin all day by himself.”
“Bring him to the clinic.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Ben said.
“My uncle loves dogs. Besides, until the end of August we won’t have any employees on site.”
“Except the office manager,” Ben returned.
“The interview is on Monday. We’ll make sure she likes dogs, too,” Sara said.
He slowly shook his head. “That seems pretty presumptuous criteria, considering I might not even be here in September.”
“You need to have a more positive outlook, Dr. Rogers.”
“We both want the job, Sara. I’m pretty positive about that.”
“Well, I’m turning the situation over to God. As you recommended.”
“I did?” he said.
She looked at him. “Yes. You said to pray. You were right. Pray and let go. That leaves a lot of room for the Lord to work. I believe He can do the impossible.”
Mending the Doctor's Heart Page 9
