by Lisa Kleypas
"If the urge to bed someone was all that concerned me, Addie, I wouldn't look to you to satisfy it. Knowing who you are, do you think I'd be fool enough to wait at your heels, hoping for a quick tumble? I haven't been deprived of a woman's company in a long time. If I wanted to sleep in a woman's arms tonight, I could find one easily. Someone a hell of a lot more experienced than you, and not half as much trouble."
"Then what do you want from me?" she whispered.
His smile was designed to annoy her. "Haven't I made it clear?"
"No," she groaned miserably. "Ben, you've got to stop. You're turning everything upside down. You're making me miserable out of pure meanness. You know any kind of relationship between us is impossible."
"Why?"
She couldn't tell him why. Hastily she racked her brains. "I d-don't know what kind of person you are. I don't know you. I don't think anyone around here does. "
"I could say the same about you. But that's something we can change. We don't have to be strangers. Unless you're afraid of what'll happen if you let me get closer. Is that it?"
She stared at him in confusion, her heart turning over at the soft sound of his voice. "I don't know what to do, or what to tell you-"
"Nothing, for now. Nothing at all." A movement to the left of them caught Ben's eyes, and he glanced at the approaching figure before turning back to Addie with a wry smile. "It looks like we'll have to continue this later."
"Why?"
"Take a look."
May was wearing a distinct frown as she walked toward them. There was no mistaking the perturbation in her voice and on her face. She didn't even look at Ben, but addressed Addie instead, her blue eyes cool and unnerving. "Adeline, I don't like you runnin' off without sayin' a word to me about where you are going. There are people askin' after you, people we haven't seen in a long time. "
"I'm sorry, Mama-"
"My apologies," Ben interrupted. "I shouldn't have taken her aside. Please don't hold Miss Adeline accountable for my selfishness."
"I know what to hold my daughter accountable for," May replied, looking at him with displeasure. "And she knows she's keepin' you from the things you should be doing. You were planning on returnin' to the ranch as soon as the wedding was over, weren't you?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then don't let us detain you."
Ben nodded respectfully to her and glanced at Addie with gleaming eyes.
"Good-bye," she said in a hushed voice, her pulse racing.
After Ben strode away, May fixed Addie with a suspicious stare. "Why is he lookin' at you that way? Something's happened. Has he made any advances to you? Surely you haven't allowed him to take any liberties, Adeline.'
"I… why… of course not," Addie stuttered.
"We were just talking. Why do you seem so set against him all of a sudden?"
"Because I know what kind of man he is. And if you let him, he'll take advantage of you, of your innocence, your trust, and especially your vanity."
"Mama-"
"I'm going to speak frankly, out of concern for you. I wondered how long it would take before this conversation would be necessary. I knew it would come sooner or later. Ben is a handsome man, and he has a way about him. I understand what an impression he must make on a girl your age. And you're attractive to him for many reasons-your looks, your money, but most of all because you're Russell Warner's daughter. I know Russ likes to fancy Ben as another son, and Ben does his best to take full advantage of that. ',
Addie found herself in the unexpected position of having to defend Ben-she, who should have gratefully welcomed any censure of him! "I don't agree. He doesn't need to chase after me or anyone else for money. He's well-educated, and too proud to take advantage of-"
"For all his education, he was a mavericker before he came to Sunrise."
"So was Daddy, once."
"I want better for you than that. And I won't allow a man like Ben Hunter, a man just like your Daddy, to have my daughter."
Addie stared at her in amazement. There was an undertone of steel in May's voice, a strength in her face Addie had never noticed before. Underneath her blond prettiness, there was more purpose and tenacity in May than she'd suspected.
"There's no chance of anything happening between Ben and me," Addie said slowly. "But why don't you want me to marry someone like Daddy?"
"I promised myself I'd do everything in my power to see that my girls had a better life than I did, that you wouldn't repeat my mistakes. Why do you think I insisted on both of you being sent to the academy? Why do you think I've tried so hard to make sure you have manners and fashionable clothes, and an education? Finally my dream for Caro has come true. She and Peter are movin' out of Texas. But if you're going to be buried here for the rest of your life, away from decent people and civilized places, I refuse to give you away to a man who won't treat you half as well as the cattle he owns. And that's what will happen if you settle for some ranch hand."
"But I don't want a different life from this. I don't want to be pampered and spoiled. I won't care if it's a little bit rougher than folks have it back east-“
"A little bit rougher," May said, her voice catching. "You don't know anything about the kind of life you could have. I was brought up in a beautiful home, among people with gentle manners, in a house with servants. I had my choice of beaus. And I came out here ignorant of the filth, the roughness of these people, the men wearing guns all the time, even at the dinner table. There are times when I still have to work harder than some of the servants in my mother's home. "
"Mama-"
"The men out here won't shelter you from things no woman back east would ever have to tolerate, the crudity and the work, the county swarming with criminals and Indians-"
"It's not exactly swarming with them. Aren't you exaggerating a little?"
"Don't you use that tone with me, Adeline! I've been through horrors you know nothin' about. Just after I had Caroline, I begged your father to hire a nurse to help me look after her. I had to work all the time, cleaning, washing, and cooking, and I couldn't care for a baby every minute of the day. And he certainly did get a nurse-a Tonkawa girl to take care of my firstborn-an Indian. Imagine, after all I'd heard of them stealing white children, and then to walk into the nursery and see one of them holding my baby! A woman of one of the most cruel and merciless tribes-"
"They're not all like that. Caro told me that some of the women in the county have some friends among the women of the Indian settlement near here. They talk and share meals-"
"Is that what you would like to do? Visit with those… creatures… rather than be among your own kind of people? I insisted you go to the academy in Virginia because I wanted you to see what it was like there, how much better than here."
"I don't see what's wrong with having friendships with them, or living here, or marrying a cowman. I like it better here than anywhere else. I'm not like you and Caro. I'll probably never move out of Texas. And I don't want to be sheltered."
May's eyes glimmered with unhappiness. "You've always chosen to learn things the hard way. I know how useless it is to talk to you when you've decided to be stubborn. But for your own sake, you must think about what I'm tellin' you."
"I will," Addie said uncomfortably, ducking her head and looking away, unable to repress a short sigh.
"I don't understand why you married Daddy, if he wasn't the kind of man you wanted."
May's expression was infused with bitterness. "Your father went east to find a wife and bring her back to Texas. He courted me in North Carolina. I didn't know what kind of life he'd be takin' me to, and didn't much care at the time. I thought love alone would be enough to make me happy. A woman in love makes foolish choices, Adeline. And I don't imagine you'll be any different from me in that respect."
As was common for any large social function, the crowd was served plenty of good liquor, which helped to fuel the general carefree spirit. Some of the men conglomerated in small groups and procee
ded to slap each other on the back heartily, talking about their land and businesses with seeming carelessness. Others freely admired the women, who were beautiful in their brightly colored dresses and masses of ruffies.
The younger people, who had eagerly awaited the night of music and dancing, busied themselves making new acquaintances and behaving as they thought grown men and women should. The steps they knew were not fancy or intricate, and the music provided by the cowboy band was not exactly elegant, but it was played with enthusiasm.
Addie found to her annoyance that she was keenly aware of Ben's absence, in spite of being claimed for every dance by a different person. What was wrong with her, that she couldn't keep herself from comparing Ben to every man she met and finding them all wanting? The most handsome ones here were unremarkable when compared to the memory of a man with black hair and vivid green eyes. No one else could stop her heart with his flashing smile, no one else dared to contradict and tease, and taunt as boldly as he did. She thought about him more while he was gone then she would have had he been there.
Occasionally Addie saw Jeff's face in the crowd among the lanterns and shadows, and she stayed as far away from him as possible. Occasionally he would ask someone to dance, but he kept his eyes on Addie as she was whirled around in time to the music. Her bluegreen dress emphasized the whiteness of her skin and the rich dark blond of her hair, attracting many a masculine eye.
When Addie wasn't dancing, she stayed close to Russell, finding comfort in the fact that a silent truce seemed to have developed between them. She had no intention of apologizing for the argument they'd had, and neither did Russell, but they'd made an unspoken decision to go on as if it hadn't happened. So far they'd managed to recapture some of their former easiness with each other.
Well into the evening Addie's feet were aching from the fast round-dancing, and she was relieved when the music slowed down to a pace that the less spry members of the gathering could enjoy. She managed to wheedle Russell into a dance, pestering him with questions as they moved around the floor.
"As far as I can tell, no one's mentioned anything about the fences to you," she said, and Russell chuckled, both annoyed and admiring of her daring in bringing up the subject.
"Not at a weddin' dance, honey."
"But that's just for tonight. What about after the wedding's over and we're all back home again?"
Russell shrugged, deciding not to answer. Addie took it to mean he expected trouble later on, and a chill of premonition stole over her. "Daddy, I've been thinking about some of the things Ben had to say about that barbed wire."
"What kinda things?" Although his voice was quiet, there was a menacing note in it. "Ben been talkin' against me behind my back, talkin' against my decisions?"
"No, no," she said hastily. "Just explaining to me. I didn't understand why everyone's so stirred up about your fences. It's because you've enclosed the water supply, isn't it? All the nearby grassland that the Double Bar owns isn't worth anything without the water rights. I didn't realize that before."
"It's my water. I was here long before Big George Johnson and all the rest of them. Before the war started, 'bout twenty-five years ago. I couldn't get a town job, so I came out west and claimed the land on both sides of it-which means all the range around it is mine. It always has been. But folks like the Johnsons started movin' in, pushin' in the boundaries of my ranch, expectin' half the water rights, when the river was always mine to begin with."
"I've heard you started out as a mavericker," she said, and he chuckled.
"Nearly everyone got his start that way, with a runnin' iron and a reata, Everyone did a little rustling, even the first sheriff of these parts. It was more respectable then. They didn't hold it against a man like they do now. But the price of cattle's gone up, and now a lot of folk think mavericking should be punished same as horse stealin'."
"They say that Ben-"
"Yeah, he was a mavericker, Almost got himself strung up for it by a vigilante committee before I hired him.”
"Really?" Addie's eyes widened in fascination. "I don't remember that."
"You were away at the academy."
"What made you decide to off him a job?"
"Ben came ridin' up to the main house with a hot-tempered crowd not ten minutes away, all of 'em bent on stretchin' his neck as soon as they caught up to him. I gave him two minutes to speak his piece. I'll bet he's never talked so fast before or since."
Addie grinned. "I wish I could have seen it. He must have been sweating bullets."
"Little cat. Don't you have any kindly feelin' for him a-tall?" Russell demanded, laughing richly.
"Yes, but he's always so in control of everything. I just like the idea of seeing him a little shaken up."
"He is every time you're around, punkin. I reckon you're the only woman who…" Russell stopped suddenly and looked at her as if a brand new idea had occurred to him. He opened his mouth and closed it, as if he wanted to ask something but didn't know how.
"What?" she prompted.
"Oh, nothin'." He shrugged with elaborate carelessness. "Just wonderin'… what do you think about Ben, honey?"
Startled, she stared at him with a sagging jaw. He'd never had that particular gleam in his eye when mentioning Ben to her before. Hurriedly she collected herself. "I think he's a good foreman-"
"As a man. You ever think about him that way?"
She shook her head hastily. "Daddy, what a silly question. And don't you dare think about asking him what he thinks about me. There's absolutely no chance of that kind of feeling developing between us."
"Don't see why not. Less you don't like his looks?"
Addie turned even redder. "There's nothing wrong with his looks."
"Nice-mannered and smart too."
"Y-yes-"
"And he's the kind women take to."
"Yes, but… Daddy, stop this. I don't want to talk about him."
"S' all right with me. Just askin"." Russell appeared to be satisfied now that the subject had been brought to her attention. The music ended, and he walked her back to where they'd been standing before. Addie couldn't help noticing Jeff watching from several feet away, his eyes locked on her, catching her every movement and expression. Russell noticed too. "That Johnson boy's eyes are gonna fall outta his head," he remarked grimly.
Addie surprised him by laughing lightly. "He's the kind who never wants something badly until he knows for certain he can't have it."
"You still sweet on him?"
"I never was, in that way. He's never been anything but a friend to me."
"Then why the hell did you get so mad when I told you not to see him anymore?"
"Because I don't like to be ordered around, by you or anyone else."
Russell stood still and looked down at her, shaking his head and sighing with rueful pride. "Damned if you aren't me all over again. Don't see why you weren't born a boy."
Coming from him, that was a sizable compliment.
Addie smiled pertly. "I like being a woman just fine, thank you. And getting back to the subject of Jeff, when are you going to change your mind about letting me see him?"
His good mood evaporated. "When it's safe. Which might be a long time from now."
"Safe," she repeated slowly. "Do you suspect we're in some kind of danger from the Johnsons?"
"We are from everyone." He seemed to forget she was his daughter as he talked to her with the frankness of one man to another. "We always have been, always will be. Not one man here who doesn't hate our big profits, not one who wouldn't try to tap into them if he thought of a good way to do it. I fenced in what I own in order to keep what's mine. No one likes that. 'specially not the Double Bar. Until lately I hoped we'd be able to git along with the Johnsons. When you're as big as we are, 'f a man's not your friend, he's your enemy. But now they've made the choice, and it's gonna get a lot worse than this."
"You sound as if you're getting ready for war," Addie said, thinking of the danger that
was in store for him. "I guess it's not a bad thing to be prepared. You're going to be careful, aren't you? I don't want anything to happen to you."
"Don't want anything to happen to any of us, honey."
"But people are mad at you," she said, and suddenly she wanted to throw her arms around him, protect him from the world. He was her father. And in spite of his roughness, explosive temper, and the overbearing manner that seldom failed to set her teeth on edge, she loved him. "You're the one who's got to be careful. Daddy, are you listening?"
Although he nodded, she could see he wasn't listening, not as she wanted him to. There was no way she could confess what she knew and what she feared. Her chest felt tight as she realized the number of enemies he had. All of the ranchers around here, not just the Johnsons, hated Russell's power, his wealth, and most of all, his fences. She was inadequate-to protect him. She wasn't strong enough to do it alone. She wished she could run to Ben for help, even though she knew the thought was pure insanity. No amount of wishful thinking would change what he was.
Ben was there to help unload the' carriage the day the Warner family returned to the ranch. They were all relieved to arrive. Caroline was exhausted from traveling, Cade was fidgety and eager to stretch his legs, Russell was anxious to get back to work, and the rest were merely happy to be where there was privacy and the comfort of well-established routines. Addie was the last to emerge, having been squashed in the comer of the seat for the entire journey. She avoided Ben's gaze as he helped her down, disconcerted by her own crushed and rumpled appearance. They were unseen by the others, who were heading toward the front door of the main house.
"How was it?" he asked quietly, his hands lingering on her waist after her feet had touched the ground.
"The trip back home? Terrible. "
"No, I was referring to the dance, the parties… the two days you spent out of my sight. Jeff give you any problems?"
She looked up at him then, undone by the note of concern in his voice, and saw no censure or mockery in his green eyes, nothing but warmth. Silken ribbons seemed to tighten around her heart. It was good to see him. She felt as if it had been weeks rather than days since she'd been near him.
