Her dad was right, though. Ben had a right to know, and so did Emma. She would tear the bandage off quickly and tell him as soon as the moment presented itself. Then he could leave, and things would get back to normal. If he left, she would not say a word to Emma. If he stayed, well then, she could decide what to say when the time was right.
* * *
Chapter 8
Ben rose early, grabbed a quick breakfast before his mother could find him to fuss over, and was out the door by 6:45. His early morning routine in Santa Barbara involved a jog on the beach, but instead of running today, he headed to the stables, intending to take a ride. The barn was quiet, horses still nickering softly in their stalls. He went slowly from stall to stall, greeting each horse, getting acquainted or reacquainted. He decided to saddle Royal, his dad’s horse, since he knew him well and he suspected his father didn’t ride much anymore.
As Ben adjusted saddle and harness, Royal stood mostly patient, giving him the occasional nudge.
“Hey, boy, I’m a little rusty. Cut me some slack, will ya?”
As he led Royal out of the barn, Maggie drove up. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Morning!” He waved, then tipped his hat. “Gonna be a hot one.”
“Hello.” She didn’t trust herself to say more. The man was twenty feet away and already her knees wobbled.
“Okay if I give Royal a run?”
She shrugged. “You own the place, not me.”
“Technically, that’s not accurate. My parents own all this. I’m just visiting.”
Yeah, right. Maggie forced a smile. “I’m glad old Royal’s getting some exercise. He’s been a bit neglected the past few weeks. He’s not out like he used to be, with your dad not riding.”
There it was again, the business with his father and what no one was saying. Ben wrapped Royal’s reins around the fence and approached, marveling at Maggie’s creamy white skin, eyes as clear and bright as the ocean, their fathomless depths unreadable. He couldn’t remember when he’d been this attracted to a woman. Just the sight of her and he grew hard, relieved that his shirttail was untucked.
“Can I ask you something?” he said.
“About?”
Alarms sounded, even as Maggie marveled at the man before her. He looked a bit tired and gaunt, but he was still drop-dead gorgeous. Nobody should look this good this early in the morning.
“I know I shouldn’t be asking you this, but I can’t seem to get it out of anyone else. Did something happen to my father this past year? Illness? An accident? Everyone keeps alluding to something, but no one will say what happened.”
“Probably because they want to protect your dad’s privacy. It’s his story to tell.”
“So, something did happen. Did it involve Royal?” Ben’s jaw clenched as tension and fear shone bright in his dark brown eyes.
Torn between wanting to relieve his suffering and uncertainty about what her employer would want, Maggie’s voice was soft when she answered. “He’s okay now. That’s what’s important. We were asked not to say anything to anyone. Beth and Ruthie were here, so they could tell you more about it.”
He stepped forward and gently grasped her arm. “Just tell me. I won’t say where I heard it.”
His clean, fresh scent and the heat of his touch almost undid her. A part of her wanted to reach toward him, inviting an embrace. His grip was magnetic, his beautiful eyes now inches from hers. How could she deny him when a huge part of her ached for the warmth of his arms, the touch of his lips, his body pressed against her, capturing her completely? Get a grip, Maggie.
Shaking herself, she took a step back. “He had a heart attack on a pack trip. The group was two days out, but they were able to get a chopper to him, thank goodness. He was on Royal when it happened. Hasn’t ridden since.”
Ben stared at her. His father was years too young for a heart attack, wasn’t he? Maggie gazed up and spied tears rimming his eyes. Without thinking, she stepped forward and put her arms around him.
“It’s okay. He’s okay. I’m sure he’s taking good care of himself.”
Ben returned her embrace, holding on, marveling at her softness and the scent of lemon and jasmine he remembered so vividly.
“Oh, Maggie,” he whispered, not sure if he spoke aloud or to himself. “What a fool I was to walk away from you.”
Her body shifted, and he moved to cup her beautiful chin, bending down, his lips grazing hers. Her skin was silky, her eyes dark pools of fire as she gazed up at him. Regaining her senses, Maggie pulled back and brushed imaginary dust from her jeans, rummaging in her backpack to locate her sunglasses. Don’t do this. You cannot go through the months of mending a broken heart when he disappears again.
“Ben, I’m sure he’ll be fine. Talk to him. Ask Ruthie. You’ll see. I bet he’s healthier now that your mom’s being careful with his diet and all.”
As Ben observed her, every fiber of his being cried out to feel her warmth again. All business now, she had erected a wall behind sunglasses that hid half her lovely face. “Thanks for telling me. I promise I won’t reveal my source. Don’t suppose you have time for a ride before you start work?”
“Sorry, no. It’s a beautiful morning. Enjoy yourself.” With a wave, she turned and headed toward the barn. Walk fast, Maggie, and don’t look back!
Ben watched her walk away, backpack slung over her shoulder, hips moving in perfect synchrony to his libido, which was now in overdrive. The feel and scent of her lingered, his body bereft and lonely without her pressed against him.
“See you,” he called, hoping she would turn and flash one of her rare smiles. Instead, Maggie waved over her shoulder and disappeared into the barn.
Once in the tack room that doubled as an office, Maggie let out her breath and grasped the side of the desk to steady herself. That can never happen again. She continued to grip the desk, forcing breath after breath until she felt calmer. She was still leaning on the desk when Jeb popped his head in.
“Morning, Boss. Was that Ben Morgan I saw riding out on Royal?” Freckle-faced, his dark red hair rumpled, he stared at his boss. Jeb was what you’d call stacked, his body compact and all muscle. He wore jeans and a faded Morgan’s Run tee shirt, the green almost gray now. Maggie suspected that Jeb turned more than a few women’s heads in town, but if he had a girlfriend, he wasn’t saying.
“Yup, that was him.”
“So he’s back?”
“Yup.”
“For how long?”
“Haven’t a clue.”
“You okay?”
“Yup.”
His boss was clearly not okay, but Jeb dropped the subject of Ben Morgan and began going over the chores for the day. Like everyone in Saguaro, he’d heard rumors of a fling between the Morgans’ eldest and Maggie, but she’d never mentioned it or him. Jeb figured it was ancient history, but watching Maggie now, he wondered if that were true.
* * *
Chapter 9
Ben and Royal made their way past the corrals and alongside the woods toward open land, the ranch’s spring colors in full glory. As they went on, he tried in vain, to shrug away thoughts of Maggie Williams’s soft, full breasts pressing into his chest. “Steady boy.” He spoke aloud, as much to himself as Royal. He didn’t know how, but he intended to get reacquainted with his father’s beautiful trainer.
Gazing eastward, he decided to ride up to the farm in hopes of finding Beth. Under his sister’s management, the ranch’s organic farm had grown to one of the top producers in the country. They shipped fruits, vegetables, and herbs all over the US and even overseas.
Ben had never been as close to Beth as he was to Ruthie. The elder sister’s personality was more serious and taciturn than his or the rest of their siblings’. Beth seldom laughed at family jokes and stories. Relentless, Robbie and Kyle constantly teased and cajoled, but she refused to join in their pranks. While Ruthie rolled with the punches of life with four older brothers, Beth retreated to
her own sphere of friends and activities. During her graduate work in biology at U of A, she met Bill, her boyfriend. While they would have been welcome to live in one of the ranch’s cottages or guest houses, Beth chose to live in Tucson, where she and Bill jointly owned a condo.
As the woods gave way to open fields running north and south as far as the eye could see, the rambling series of farm structures came into view. The complex included four enormous barns, two for equipment and vehicle storage, two for processing and storage, as well as a number of outbuildings for tools and equipment. As he neared the barns, Ben spied Manny Ramirez, who had worked for his family for decades. A short, wiry man with the strength of an ox, Manny’s skin was brown as leather. His work boots were held together with duct tape, and his jeans patched and mended in a number of spots. In his early forties, the man looked ten years older until one watched him lift a bale of hay or full crate of melons.
“Hey, Mr. B. How are you?”
“Hey, Manny. Doing great. How ’bout you and the family?”
“Can’t complain. Manny Junior just graduated from Valley High School. He’s goin’ to U of A this fall.”
The pride on Manny face made Ben smile.
“That’s terrific. Tell him I say congratulations.”
“Will do.”
“Hey, Man, is my sister around yet?”
“Which one?”
“Beth.”
“Just got in. She’s in one of the washing rooms. We’re getting a shipment of spinach ready to go out this morning, and the pump’s acting up.”
“Thanks. I’ll find her and see if I can help.”
Manny laughed. “Good luck with that. You stayin’ around a while?”
“A few months.”
“Folks must be happy ’bout that. Here, lemme take ole Royal. I’ll put ’im in the south paddock. Be happier there till you’re through visiting.”
Ben found his sister in the largest washing room, hunched over a pump, wrench in one hand, hammer in the other. She noted his presence but stayed focused on her task. “Heard you were back.”
Of all the Morgans, Beth most closely resembled her older brother. She had Ben’s angular jaw, chestnut hair, and lean, lanky build. Her eyes were the same dark chestnut, arresting if one was caught in their gaze. Bill was fond of saying that those eyes had stopped him in his tracks the first time he spied her in his Biology 101 class. Today, Beth’s jeans were caked with mud and her flannel shirt soaked through. She swore as the wrench slipped from her grasp and clattered to the cement floor.
“Want some help?”
“Yeah, right.”
“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, sister of mine. You forget I have an engineering degree.”
She straightened up, met her brother eye to eye, and held out the wrench and hammer. “Okay, Surfer Boy. Knock yourself out.”
“No hug?”
“Let’s see how the pump project works out first.” Ben gave her a look and Beth laughed, extending her arms. “Oh, what the heck. A little incentive won’t hurt.”
As he folded her into his arms, Ben felt her stiffen. Touching was not Beth’s thing.
“Good to have you home. Mom and Dad must have gone crazy when you walked in. You’ve always been their favorite, you know.” She pulled up a stool. “This I gotta see.”
Ben stooped to his task, quickly ascertaining the problem. As he worked, he asked Beth about the farm. Then, keeping his tone casual, he said, “Just came from the stables. How long’s Maggie Williams been working here?”
“Let’s see. About five years, I’d guess. Started not long after you left. She and Harley have turned the training program on its head, especially the mustang project with the Border Patrol. It’s been really successful. Profitable, too.”
“Regular horse whisperer, is she?”
“Actually, she sort of is. Her assistant Jeb’s pretty good, too, and you know Harley. You interested in Maggie for some reason?”
He shrugged. “Just curious. Thought if I stay around, I might help down there, and I wanted to know the players.”
“Players, huh? Oh, I see. Doesn’t have anything to do with Maggie being beautiful and sexy, does it?”
“Is she? Hadn’t noticed.”
Beth laughed and nudged him with her boot toe. “Liar. Since when does Don Juan not notice a pretty lady?”
“She got a boyfriend?”
“Aha! So you are interested! How should I know? We’re so busy down here I rarely see Maggie, Harley, and Jeb. If I had to guess, I’d say no, but I really don’t know her. Maggie and Kyle were close in high school, I think. Not sure they keep up anymore now that Kyle’s in Montana. Ruthie might know, if you’re really curious.”
He shrugged and turned back to the pump, tightening the last few fittings.
“She’s not exactly a swinging single like you, brother dear. She has a young child. ”
“I heard about that, and the accident. What a shame.”
“Guy that hit them was a wealthy attorney from Phoenix, staying up at Westward Look for the weekend. Not sure why he left the spa and came to Saguaro, but too bad for Maggie and Emma that he did. Of course, he was so drunk, he walked away without a scratch. Bought his way out of it, I heard, but someone told me recently that the legal stuff is still ongoing. Must be a nightmare.”
Ben wiped wet, muddy hands on his jeans and stood up. “There, that oughta do it.”
Beth tested the pump and it turned over, humming, no leaks, no spray. “Thanks. You’re hired. Got time for a cup of coffee?”
Brother and sister sat in creaky, unpainted rockers in the shade of the barn’s crude porch, sipping strong, hot coffee.
“So, what’s going on, oh long-lost brother?”
He swallowed, then turned to face her. “Had a sort of scary episode. Some kind of panic attack. Doctor ordered me to de-stress for a few months.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place, as long as you stay away from Mom.”
“Fat chance. She’s probably on the phone right now, activating the matchmaker hotline from Tucson to Flagstaff to find me a suitable lady. She seems convinced that lack of a wife is at the root of what ails me.”
Beth snorted. “That’s why Bill and I live in town. The meddling gets a bit much. I thought you had a girlfriend? Milly or someone?”
“Miranda. No, alas, the lovely Miranda and I have parted company.”
“What happened? You were so perfect for each other.”
Beth and Bill had stayed with Miranda and Ben the previous winter on a weekend trip to Santa Barbara. While the foursome had enjoyed themselves, it was clear that they came from different worlds.
“Well, looks can be deceiving. Who knows? We’re done. That’s all I know. Listen, Beth, what’s the story with Dad and the heart attack?”
“Was scary, but he’s okay. They found three blockages and put in stents. I guess that was the only option. He’s been religious about exercising, and Mom’s got him eating a more healthy diet, but you know Dad and his beef. He’d rather die than miss his steaks on the grill.”
“Only once a week, I hope.”
She smiled. “That we know about. We suspect he sneaks into town and gets Gracie to whip him up a T-bone whenever he can get away.”
“Want me to talk to him?”
“Absolutely not. He’s an adult and can make his own choices.” She rose. “Sorry, brother dear. Would love to sit around chatting, but gotta get to it. Have a good ride.” She patted his shoulder, heading in with their empty cups. “Come for supper, soon, will you? If you’ve wooed the fair Maggie by then, you’re welcome to bring her along, too.”
“Very funny.”
He headed back to find Royal happily grazing in the shade at the side of the paddock.
* * *
Chapter 10
Later, when Ben returned from a long ride through the scrub at the edge of the foothills, he found Maggie working with a huge monster of a horse in the north corral. She held the reins
and walked him slowly. A young cowboy, whom he assumed was her assistant, sat astride the beast, only a blanket for a saddle. Hair pulled back under a baseball cap, Maggie moved with the fluid grace of the horse she led so carefully, her body in synch with his. Watching her, he felt the familiar stirring in his loins. Never in his life had any woman had this effect on Ben Morgan. Maybe, if he’d been sane five years earlier, he’d have held onto her. With a longing he could neither explain nor shake, he watched, knowing he could not walk away without holding her in his arms again.
As Maggie urged the horse forward, the rider remained calm. The horse nickered, whinnied, and flung his head from side to side.
“What d’ya think, Boss? Wanta try the saddle?”
Maggie looked up at him, pausing for a minute. “Are you sure?”
Ben waved and called out. “I’ll grab the saddle. Which one?”
They turned toward him and the horse reared up, hooves punching the air. For a horrible second, Ben feared the giant hooves might strike Maggie, but she remained calm. “Okay, boy. That’s right. Come on, now.”
When the horse had settled, she led him toward the fence, glaring in Ben’s direction. After tying up the horse, she helped the rider down and turned to Ben, who had now dismounted.
“Don’t ever do that again.”
She scaled the fence, dropped down on the opposite side, and headed into the barn.
The rider smiled, hopped over the fence in one fluid motion, and extended his hand. “Hey, how’s it going? Jeb Barnes.”
“Ben Morgan. Sorry about that.”
“No problem. Tabasco’s fine. The boss gets nervous he’s gonna throw me, but there’s really no cause for alarm. He and I know each other.”
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