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Rancher For The Holidays (Love Inspired)

Page 9

by Myra Johnson


  Ben couldn’t be jealous, could he? Marley arched a brow at him. “Is that so like ‘Isn’t that interesting?’ Or so like ‘What’s the rest of the story?’ Because there is none.”

  “So... I guess I’m getting a little too nosy.” Ben dipped his chin and peered up with a boyish grin. “Sorry.”

  With a wry smile, Marley shook her head. “I have to go.”

  “Yeah. Duty calls.” Ben held the door for her.

  She said her goodbyes to Jane and Bonnie, then continued out front to her car.

  Ben followed, but this time he didn’t try any delay tactics like he’d done the day of the Whitlows’ photo shoot. He halted on the porch steps and called, “See you at the meeting Monday night?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Before pulling away, she tugged her cell phone from her purse to turn on the ringer and check for messages. A text from her father read Call me ASAP. The time stamp was nearly two hours ago, while she’d had her phone silenced during the meeting. And Dad hated to be kept waiting.

  She made him wait another five minutes while she drove down the lane to the Whitlows’ entrance gate. Pulling off to the side, she parked and pressed the callback button.

  “Where have you been?” her father practically shouted.

  “Hi, Dad, nice to talk to you, too.”

  “Don’t get sarcastic with me. I’ve been calling your studio number all morning. What were you thinking, staying closed on a Saturday?” Dad huffed. “This is no way to run a business, Marsha.”

  “Marley. Marley.” She ground her teeth. “I’ve told you before, Dad. The studio isn’t like a retail business. Most of my work is done by appointment.”

  “Yes, but—” He made a growling noise in his throat. “I didn’t call to lecture you about good business practices. I assume you know I’m up for reelection in November.”

  Forcing politeness into her tone, she asked, “How’s the campaign going?”

  “Exceedingly well.” A meaningful pause. “Which is why I don’t need any surprises.”

  Meaning any reports surfacing about his problem child. A sigh raked her lungs. “Dad, it’s been over ten years. Have I done anything to embarrass you since you swept me and my past under the rug?”

  “Marsha...”

  She didn’t correct him this time. It was pointless, anyway, because in her father’s eyes she’d always be Marsha Sanderson, juvenile delinquent, and the skeleton in Harold Sanderson’s closet he never wanted exposed to public scrutiny.

  “Just promise me,” her father said tiredly.

  Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to shed them. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I wouldn’t dream of raining on your victory parade.”

  “Good. That’s good. Now, how’s the money situation? Are your bills covered this month?”

  “I’m flush.” Close enough, anyway, that she was adamant she wouldn’t ask her father for another advance. “Dad, I have to go. I’m on my way to the studio right now.”

  “Very well. Just remember what I said.”

  “No surprises. Got it.”

  He paused. “Your mother sends her love.”

  But there was no “And I do, too.” That would be too much to expect from her father. “Love to Mom. Goodbye, Dad.”

  Marley tossed her phone into the passenger seat and turned onto the road toward town. To get her mind off her dysfunctional family, she reviewed that morning’s planning session. They’d accomplished a lot in a short time, and her hopes for a successful fund-raiser continued to grow.

  Of course, if not for Ben, they might never have come up with the idea for a trail ride. Thoughts of him brought a smile to her lips. The annoyingly cute city boy certainly was full of surprises.

  Marley’s stomach clenched as she pulled into her parking spot down the alley from the studio. She really needed to make sure Ben didn’t carry his publicity efforts beyond Alpine—or if he did, he kept her name out of it. The chances of anyone making the connection between Marley Sanders and the former Marsha Sanderson were slim, but it wasn’t worth taking the risk.

  * * *

  As the event date neared, the Spirit Outreach committee began holding more frequent meetings. With plans to serve cold drinks and burgers after the ride, they had arranged to rent or borrow picnic tables, chairs and a large party tent. A local country-and-western band would provide entertainment.

  Marley had already heard several announcements about the trail ride on local radio stations, and Neil Ingram, a feature writer for the Alpine Avalanche, offered coverage in a series of articles about Spirit Outreach and their work in Candelaria. With the addition of an information and sign-up page to the church’s website, rider registrations were already coming in.

  At a committee meeting near the end of October, Pastor Chris summarized their progress to date. “As of this morning, we have twenty-two riders signed up. Most of our supplies have been donated or offered at a reduced rate, but we’re still only looking at a profit of around twelve hundred dollars.”

  Marley’s stomach sank. She’d been hoping for at least two or three times that much. “The ride is still a month away. Surely we’ll get a few more by then.” She knew firsthand from her photography classes about last-minute registrations.

  Seated across the table from her, Ben cast a frown in her direction. “Marley, I know you’ve wanted to keep this local, but Alpine isn’t that big a town. We need to widen our reach, and we need to do it now so potential riders can make plans.”

  She should be happy Ben had obviously grown more invested in the fund-raising event than he’d initially intended. But now she had to weigh her concerns about personal privacy against Spirit Outreach’s goals.

  Shifting higher in her chair, she jiggled her empty soda can on the tabletop. “Maybe Thanksgiving weekend wasn’t such a great idea, after all.”

  “We can’t change it now,” Pastor Chris stated. “Ben’s right. Let’s get the word out in Marfa, Fort Davis, Presidio, Fort Stockton—any town within a hundred-mile radius.”

  With the rest of the committee in agreement, Marley couldn’t argue. She listened and took notes during the rest of the meeting, relieved when they finally broke up around ten thirty.

  Ben caught up with her as she walked out to the parking lot. “Long night.”

  “We had a lot to cover.” Stifling a yawn, Marley dug through her purse for her keys.

  “I hope I didn’t step on your toes with the publicity thing, but I know how badly you want this event to succeed.”

  “No, you’re right. We need to get the word out.” She unlocked her car and set her purse and tablet computer inside.

  Ben didn’t seem in any hurry to head to his own car, on the other side of the lot. Marley noticed he tended to park his cute red Mustang well away from other vehicles. He rested an arm along the top of her door, which stood open between them. “Seen much of your friend Lucas lately?”

  She cast him an odd look. “Not really. Why?”

  “Just asking. I haven’t seen much of you except at these meetings, so I wondered where you’ve been keeping yourself.”

  “Trying to make a living. What else?” She regretted her tart tone the moment the words left her mouth. “I’m sorry, Ben. That sounded terrible. I should be asking you how the job search is going.”

  He sagged against the car door. “Going nowhere fast. Which is why I’m glad to have this trail-ride stuff to keep me occupied. Plus Uncle Steve never has any problem coming up with chores for me around the ranch.”

  “From what I’ve seen, it looks like you’re enjoying your time at the ranch. Have you ever thought about staying, maybe working for your uncle?”

  Something between a groan and a laugh rumbled in Ben’s chest. “How much did Uncle Steve pay you to say that?”
/>   “I promise, not a cent.” Marley couldn’t suppress a laugh of her own. “I take it he’s made the offer?”

  Ben’s mouth twisted. “More than once. I keep telling him it’d never work.”

  Or did Ben simply not want to admit it might? Another yawn crept up on her. “I should get home.”

  “Right.” With a quick breath, Ben cleared his throat and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “So, uh, what’s on your schedule this week? Besides the studio and the trail-ride stuff.”

  She mentally flipped through her calendar. “I’m finishing up a magazine assignment, and this weekend I’m covering a rehearsal dinner and wedding.”

  “Sounds fun. Uh, you wouldn’t possibly be in the market for an assistant, would you?”

  “Not in the budget.” Marley arched a brow. “Wait. Don’t tell me you’re volunteering—again?”

  “Might be.”

  She studied him, unsure whether he was serious or just being nice. Then her gaze slipped to his quirky grin and a tingly feeling tickled her insides. She should give him a quick “thanks, but no thanks” right now and be on her way, but her mouth wouldn’t cooperate. “Okay, sure,” she heard herself saying. “Meet me at the studio Friday afternoon at four.”

  * * *

  Playing photographer’s assistant for the Stratton-Leonard rehearsal dinner and wedding gave Ben a whole new appreciation for Marley’s talents. She didn’t require all the extra stands and lighting equipment she’d brought out to the ranch to photograph Uncle Steve and Aunt Jane, but Ben ended up toting three different camera bags full of fancy lenses and flash attachments.

  The hardest part, which Marley handled with the utmost tact, was corralling the bride, groom, their twelve attendants, the minister and two huge extended families for a variety of individual and group poses, plus lots of candid shots during the rehearsal dinner and wedding reception.

  With music, dancing and a three-course sit-down dinner at the reception, it was close to midnight before the bride and groom departed and the party broke up. The bride’s aunt made sure Marley left with several containers of leftovers and offered some to Ben as well, but he declined except for two hefty slices of cake to take home for Aunt Jane and Uncle Steve.

  Ben had driven them to the wedding in the Mustang. He pulled up next to Marley’s Honda in the parking lot near the studio. “I could fall asleep right here. That was exhausting.”

  Marley felt around the floorboard for the shoes she’d kicked off the moment she got in the car. “Having your help made my job tons easier. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “It’s always fun watching you at work.” Ben gave her hand a quick squeeze. “You’re good, Marley. Really good.”

  Even in the darkened car, he glimpsed the uncertainty in her crooked smile. “I love what I do, but...” She straightened, as if shaking off an unpleasant thought. Her smile widened. “Thank you. It’s nice to be appreciated.”

  He had a feeling this wasn’t the time to probe her emotions. They were both dead tired, which meant Marley was vulnerable, and so was he. Clearing his throat, he opened his door. “Let’s get your gear unloaded so you can head home and get some sleep.”

  Marley unlocked the back door of the studio and after they stowed her camera equipment, Ben walked her back to the parking lot. As she climbed into her Honda, he thought how natural it would be to give her a good-night kiss on the cheek. Except lately he couldn’t seem to shake the idea that he’d like to get to know Marley as more than a friend. And since he didn’t know how much longer he’d be in Alpine—

  “Got any plans for tomorrow?” Ben blurted out.

  Looking up from buckling her seat belt, Marley covered a yawn. “Sleeping in is my number-one priority. I’ll probably go to the late service at church, then chill out for the rest of the day.”

  “You want to chill out at the ranch? Maybe try another ride on Dancer?” When she hesitated, Ben offered a persuasive grin. “Just you and me. No rowdy committee members bouncing around and getting the horses all tense.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Can you guarantee there won’t be any cars backfiring or other scary noises?”

  “Hey, there are no guarantees in life.” He tapped the hood of Marley’s car. “At least think about it. If you feel like coming out, great. If you decide you’d rather not ride, we’ll watch TV or something. Like you said, just chill.”

  Marley sighed and quirked her lips. “I’ll let you know. Right now, I’m too tired to think straight.”

  Watching her drive away, Ben suspected he wouldn’t see her again until the next Spirit Outreach meeting on Monday night.

  She surprised him by showing up at the ranch shortly after two on Sunday afternoon.

  He leaned against the door frame, enjoying the shy glimmer in her eyes as she stood on the front porch. She looked amazing in a Sul Ross State University sweatshirt, jeans and sneakers, and he couldn’t suppress a grin. “Nice to see you looking a little less bleary-eyed.”

  “I could say the same about you.” Marley poked her hands into her back pockets. “I was thinking I’d really like to see the wildflower ridge again. Is your offer for that ride still open?”

  Warmth spread through Ben’s chest. His grin widened. “Thought you’d never ask.”

  Twenty minutes later, Ben gave Marley a boost into Dancer’s saddle, then climbed on Skeeter, the Palomino he usually rode. Marley showed the same nervousness as her first time on Dancer, but with the horse’s calm nature and steady gait, it took her even less time to relax and enjoy the scenery.

  The ride gave Ben a chance to show Marley the trail he and Uncle Steve had been working on to clear away overgrowth, fill holes and smooth over gullies. “We’ve added two or three more miles since the committee rode the trail. Lots of great photo ops, too, which you’ll appreciate. You should have brought your camera.”

  “What makes you think I didn’t?” Marley winked as she tugged a compact digital camera from the pocket of her sweatshirt. “This little baby is my favorite tool for when I can’t haul a bunch of camera equipment along and want to be prepared.”

  “Should have known.” Laughter bubbled up from Ben’s chest. He still had his mouth open when Marley turned the camera on him and snapped several pictures. “Hey! Give a guy some warning.”

  “What makes you think I was taking your picture? There’s a really cute cow behind you.”

  Ben swung to look over his shoulder. There was indeed a herd of cattle on the other side of a barbed-wire fence, but none close enough to be discernibly cute.

  Marley chuckled. “Gotcha.”

  “Funny, Sanders. Very funny.” Ben held out his hand. “Here, let me snap some shots of you.”

  She drew her lower lip between her teeth and shook her head. “Oh, no, that’s okay.”

  “What, you don’t trust me with your fancy little camera? It has an automatic mode, right?”

  “Yes, but... I’m not used to being on the other side of the lens.”

  “Then it’s about time.” Ben kept his hand steady until Marley reluctantly changed some settings on the camera and laid it in his palm. While he centered her in the display, she struck a pose and an artificial smile. “Oh, come on, be natural.”

  Ben kept up a teasing banter while he snapped several pictures. With each one, Marley grew more at ease, but it took her almost as long to get comfortable having her photo taken as it had to relax on Dancer’s back.

  “Now for a selfie.” Ben guided Skeeter close beside Dancer and held the camera facing them at arm’s length. He stretched one arm toward Marley to get her to lean closer, then pressed the shutter.

  “Okay, you’ve had your fun.” Marley grabbed the camera and switched it to display mode. “Let me see how many of these I’m going to delete.”

  He was afraid she’d start deleting be
fore he got a chance to look, but her finger slowed as she browsed through the shots. Something changed in her expression, a kind of wistful sadness filling her eyes. Her chest rose and fell as if she held back tears.

  Ben touched her arm. “Marley?”

  “It’s just weird seeing pictures of myself. Even when I was a kid—” She forced a laugh. “Never mind. I’m being silly.”

  “Wait, what were you about to say about being a kid?”

  “Nothing.” She turned off the camera and shoved it into her pocket. “Hey, don’t you have more trail to show me?”

  They rode for another hour before circling back, both working to keep the conversation light. But Ben couldn’t shake the growing sense that Marley carried a lot of baggage from a difficult past. He wondered if she’d ever trust him enough to share it with him.

  Chapter Eight

  The weeks leading up to Thanksgiving kept Marley too busy to think about much besides work and the Spirit Outreach fund-raiser. Just as well, because after letting Ben see her get teary-eyed over a few photos of herself, she needed to regain some perspective. She liked Ben. A lot. But enough to trust him with her past? Not when she hadn’t even found the courage to confide in her closest church friends. Besides, any day now, Ben could land a new job and move on.

  As they had for the past few years, Ernie and Angela invited Marley to spend Thanksgiving with them. Angela’s parents and an older brother and his family arrived from out of town, so the Coutus’ dining room table was full. Everyone gorged on turkey with all the trimmings, then napped in front of the TV while occasionally rousing long enough to cheer for their favorite football team.

  Friday morning dawned mild and sunny, a perfect day for the nearly twenty volunteers who met at the Whitlow ranch to begin setting up for Saturday’s trail ride and cookout. They arranged tables and chairs under the party tent beside the barn, with a flatbed trailer serving as the stage for the band. Steve Whitlow had designated the pasture across from the house to be used for trailer parking. Tomorrow was predicted to be sunny and mild, a gorgeous day for the event, and with the publicity Ben had secured in a variety of West Texas news outlets, rider registrations had almost tripled.

 

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