by R. C. Ryan
The sound of men’s voices downstairs alerted them that the family was preparing to head to their beds.
With her hands against his shoulders she began to push away. “Ben, we shouldn’t…”
“The hell we shouldn’t.” His hands were in her hair as he kissed her with a thoroughness that had them both trembling.
The protest she’d been about to utter was forgotten. Everything was forgotten except Ben and this moment. She was so aware of him. Of the strong arms that held her against him. Of his thighs pressed to hers. Of his heartbeat as out of control as hers.
She twined her arms around his neck and gave herself up to the pleasure as his mouth moved on hers, drawing out the exquisite taste like a man starved for her.
“Becca.” He whispered her name like a prayer.
The voices grew closer as his family climbed the stairs to their rooms.
Ben lowered his hands to his sides and took a step back, and then another, until he felt the edge of the open door.
“Good night, Becca.”
“Good…” She drew in a shallow breath. “Good night, Ben.”
He turned and was gone, pulling the door closed behind him.
Ben stepped into the living room and found Mac seated alone in front of the fire.
“You’re still awake?”
“The others are off to bed.”
“Want a beer?”
When Mac nodded, Ben walked to the kitchen and returned with two longnecks. After handing one to his father, he took the seat beside him, and the two men tipped up their bottles and drank.
As the fire burned low, Ben remained in the living room, seated by the fire, talking quietly with Mac about his day, his work, and finally about the latest incident with the shooter and Will and Rebecca.
“What do you make of it, son?”
Ben shook his head, staring into the fire. “I don’t know what to think. I’m glad the state boys are on it. They’ve had experience with this kind of thing. And I’m…too close to the case to think clearly.”
Nearly an hour later, when Ben finally called good night and made his way up the stairs to his room, Mac sat listening to the silence that settled over the old house.
He thought of Ben’s words. “I’m…too close to the case to think clearly.”
It was obvious in so many ways that Ben had fallen hard for the young woman upstairs. Yet after showing her to the guest room, he’d returned here, killing time, when he could be upstairs sharing a few stolen kisses and a lover’s conversation.
So why hadn’t he seized the opportunity?
Had he deliberately been waiting, hoping she would be asleep before climbing the stairs?
A slow smile spread across all Mac’s features.
Of course. Avoiding temptation.
And maybe that was a good thing.
Mac had a feeling that when this big, rough bear of a son finally gave in to the building passion, it would be earth-shattering. Not just for Ben, struggling to be noble, but for the woman he loved.
Love.
He’d know a thing or two about it. Even now, the thought of Rachel and Robbie could bring a glow of exquisite joy or a feeling of deepest sorrow.
It was true he’d moved on with his life. Having so many good people around him helped. But there were moments when he found himself wondering what his life would have been like if his wife and son had lived.
He worked overtime to keep from torturing himself with such thoughts. When they came creeping into his mind, as they did now, he refused to indulge himself in fantasies. He’d learned that the best solution for sorrow was taking joy in the little things that life provided each day.
His smile came slowly.
Like that brand-new furniture on that old back porch, a gift from a young woman who was beginning to mean a great deal to all of them. Without realizing just what she’d given them, it provided another place for his family to gather.
Family.
How odd that this strange assortment of men the world would consider misfits had bonded so tightly. They worked together, relaxed together, and shared a common goal.
And wasn’t that another form of family?
His family.
He loved each and every one of them as fiercely as he cherished the memories of his Rachel and Robbie.
Chapter Nineteen
Morning sunlight filled the upstairs hallway with light and shadows.
Ben knocked on the guest room door. “You awake, Becca?”
She surprised him by pulling the door open immediately. “Yes. Good morning.”
He couldn’t stop staring. She was wearing a simple denim shirt and jeans. Her hair was crackly and shiny, as though she’d been brushing it for an hour. Her smile would rival the sun outside her window.
“I hope you were able to sleep.”
“I slept like a baby. Probably because I was so far from town and the shooter.” She flushed. “But I’m sure part of the reason was knowing there were so many big, strong men around.”
He grinned. “I guess that seems strange when you’re an only child.”
“I guess so. But in a good way.” She touched a hand to his arm. “I really like your family.”
“They like you, too. And after your…surprise, I’m sure you’ve earned a place at the top of their list.” He took her hand. “Come on. Zachariah said breakfast is ready.”
“Are you just getting up?”
Her question had him laughing. “I’ve been up since dawn. Sam and I took barn duty, to free Finn up for his trial.”
“You’ve already done your chores?” She sounded contrite. “I wanted to join you.”
He paused halfway down the stairs. “Why?”
She shrugged and looked embarrassed. “Partly to see all the things you do on a ranch. And partly to pay your family back for putting me up for the night.”
He touched a hand to her arm. “Becca, you don’t owe any debt here. But if you really want to see ranch chores, I’m happy to set you up on one of our tractors after breakfast. Sam and I are planning on moving a mound of earth in the north pasture.”
She shared his smile. “Why not? Now that I’ve driven my father’s truck, I think a tractor would be a piece of cake.”
He tried, and failed, to imagine this fresh-as-a-daisy little woman driving a tractor.
They were both laughing as they entered the kitchen and joined the others for breakfast.
Zachariah passed around a platter of scrambled eggs, while Roscoe filled a second plate with thick slabs of ham.
Finn walked in carrying an attaché case and wearing his trademark buckskin jacket and Stetson.
Zachariah beamed his pleasure, since the jacket and hat had once been his. Finn considered them his good-luck charms. “Ready for another day in court?”
“You bet.”
Mac set down his mug of coffee. “You got time to eat, son?”
Finn shook his head. “I want to meet with my client before court.”
“All right.” Mac put a hand on his shoulder. “Go get ’em, tiger.”
“You know I will.”
When Finn was gone, the others passed around the platters and filled their plates.
Sam settled himself next to Rebecca. “I missed seeing you in the barn this morning.”
She stared pointedly at Ben. “Somebody forgot to let me know chores start at dawn.”
“To make up for it, Becca wants to drive one of the tractors.” Ben winked at his brother.
“Give her old Betsy. I’ve got dibs on the new one.”
“Okay.” Rebecca looked from Sam to Ben. “What’s the joke?”
“Old Betsy was Dad’s first tractor. Old as the hills, and likes to quit and take frequent naps.” Ben was grinning.
“Naps?” Sam shook his head. “More like complete break-downs. At least once every hour. And when that old machine quits, there’s no getting her started until we tinker, twist, and apply tourniquets to various hoses. Old Betsy’s on he
r last leg. Or I should say piston.”
Around the table, the others were chuckling.
Mac indicated the two men across the table. “Otis and Roscoe have resuscitated that old tractor so many times, we’ve decided she’s like a cat with nine lives.”
“Only she’s already passed ninety lives,” Roscoe added. “And we’re ready to give up on her.”
Mac shrugged. “We’ll keep her around for parts.”
Otis winked at Rebecca. “Mac isn’t ready to accept that there’s no call for sixty-year-old parts.”
“My sixty-year-old parts still work.” The minute the words were out of Mac’s mouth, the room exploded with laughter.
Ben lifted his mug toward his dad. “And may they continue for sixty more.”
This brought another round of laughter and much teasing.
Rebecca and Ben stood on the porch. The others had scattered to attend to ranch chores.
“Are you still up to driving a tractor?”
At Ben’s question, Rebecca shook her head. “Old Betsy certainly sounds…challenging. But I need to get back to town. I’m sure by now my parents have a million questions about what happened last night.”
“You didn’t call them?”
She looked away. “I just wasn’t ready to talk about it. But after a good night’s sleep, and a healthy dose of your family, I’m feeling up to the reaction I expect will be…stormy.”
He nodded. “If you get your things, I’ll bring the truck around.”
“I hate taking you away from your chores. I hope you don’t mind.”
He touched a hand to her cheek, then abruptly drew it away. “I don’t mind.”
When he walked toward the barn, Rebecca stood still, her body still tingling from his touch.
She felt confused.
Did he feel this same sexual awareness? Or was a man like Ben Monroe immune to such things? There were times when she could feel his passion. Like last night. That kiss had been electrifying. She’d wanted more. And then, when he realized the family was near, he’d just walked away.
He had more self-discipline than any man she’d ever met. And maybe that was part of the attraction. When he touched her, kissed her, he poured himself fully into it. And then, just as fully, when necessary, he was able to step away.
She strode resolutely into the house and up the stairs. Minutes later she returned carrying her overnight bag.
Ben halted the truck and climbed out to take the bag from her hands before helping her into the passenger side.
As they headed to town, he slipped on his sunglasses before pointing. “Look at that.”
She swiveled her head.
His voice was low with feeling. “I can’t imagine not seeing this every day of my life. The cattle. The hills. All this glorious sunshine.”
She nodded. “I know what you mean. I love the four seasons. Spring, with these hills bursting into flower. The hot sticky summers. And now, fall, with its cool breezes and the trees changing color. I even love winter, and the first snowfall.”
He turned with a grin. “How about the last snowfall, just when you’re ready for spring flowers?”
She laughed. “I know. It’s a real let-down. But even then, I just love all of it.” She turned to him. “Will told me he can’t abide winters here. He’s hoping for an assignment in a warmer place.”
“Good for Will. People should be free to go where they want. But as for me, this place owns my heart.”
Owns my heart.
He’d said it with such passion.
She felt her pulse quicken. It was the same passion he’d let her glimpse last night. A passion that had left her trembling with need, her poor heart yearning for more.
“You sure you want to be dropped at your father’s store? I could take you home first.”
“I need to face the music, Ben. By now, I’m sure he’s heard about the latest trouble.”
He came to a halt in front of the hardware store. “Want me to go in with you?”
She managed a weak smile. “Thanks. I know you’re trying to give me moral support, and I’m grateful. But I need to do this alone.” She stepped down from the truck and clutched the overnight bag to her chest.
As Ben watched her figure recede in the rearview mirror, he was reminded of that terrified teen he’d carried home after her prom. So wounded, yet so stoic.
Was that when he’d fallen in love with her?
Love? Where had that word come from?
Love. He huffed out a breath as he headed back to the ranch. What would he know about such things? He knew he and his brothers were loved unconditionally. But he’d been denied the love of his parents. The men who surrounded him were all single. Maybe at some time in their lives they’d been married, or had loved someone, but for the better part of a lifetime they’d lived without a woman. He’d never had the chance to see how they acted around a woman they loved.
He looked out across the rolling hills, black with cattle. He loved this place. He loved his brothers. He loved Mackenzie Monroe fiercely. He loved Zachariah and Otis and Roscoe. Hell, that ought to be enough love for any man.
And he loved Rebecca Henderson, too.
The thought slammed through him with such force that he applied the brakes and was grateful there were no vehicles on the interstate.
He sat a moment, breathing deeply.
He loved Becca. And though he’d fought hard to deny it, he’d loved her for years.
It didn’t matter if she returned his feelings. A woman like Becca deserved someone refined. Educated. A teacher, or a banker, or a…minister.
He shook his head, trying to think this through. She’d made it clear that she didn’t think of Will Theisen as anything other than a friend. He wasn’t a rival for her affection. Still, he was the kind of man Becca deserved.
Or was he?
Ben thought back to the few times they’d kissed. She’d been an eager participant.
He was sweating as he put the truck in gear and continued along the interstate until he came to the turnoff for the ranch.
What he needed was a full day of hard, mind-numbing ranch chores. Work had always been the best way to clear his head.
Chapter Twenty
Close the door, Rebecca.”
Hank Henderson strode briskly into his tiny, cramped office, the desktop littered with flyers, empty boxes, pamphlets, and shipping orders.
He circled around the desk before turning to his daughter. “I’d rather the employees not overhear what I have to say.”
Rebecca closed the door and stood, ignoring the chair facing his desk.
“Not that it matters,” he added tiredly. “I’m sure they know more than I do.” He picked up a pen, clicking it several times in rapid succession before tossing it aside. “I tried calling your house last night, after I heard about the latest shooting. There was no answer, so I drove over. You weren’t there.”
“I spent the night at the Monroe ranch.”
“You did what? With a houseful of crazy old men living there?”
“You make it sound dirty, Dad.”
“That’s not what I…” He sighed and tried again. “Why would you prefer spending the night with a bunch of misfits instead of staying with your parents?”
“Those misfits, as you call them, are all gentle people. They’re good and decent and treat me with respect.”
“And your mother and I don’t?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You implied as much. Why do you avoid us?”
“I don’t…”
He held up a hand. “And don’t deny it. It’s obvious you don’t want to spend any more time than necessary with your mother and me.”
She took in a deep breath and fought to keep her tone reasonable. “Ever since I returned to Haller Creek, I’ve had the impression that I’m a disappointment to you and Mom.”
“We would never say such a thing.”
“I know that, Dad. You’re both too kind to
say so. But your feelings are obvious. I don’t do things at work the way they’ve always been done. I don’t have feelings for Will, even though you’ve already decided that he would make the perfect husband. And now I’m bringing notoriety to the family by being the victim of some crazy guy with a gun.”
“You certainly can’t help that.”
She managed a weak smile. “I’m glad we can agree on at least that one thing.”
“Rebecca, in time you’ll learn to do things around the store the way I’ve always done them.”
“You’re assuming that I agree with the way things have always been done.”
He chose to ignore the sarcasm in her tone. “And you can definitely avoid gossip by not seeing that hell…Ben Monroe.”
She sank down into the chair and met his stern look. “And you’re assuming that I can just avoid Ben and find someone else to love.”
“Love?” His head came up sharply. “When did I ever mention love?”
“You haven’t, Dad. That’s the problem. You think I should find someone who suits you, and marry him. Love never enters the equation.”
“It’s overrated.”
“Would you care to say that in front of Mom?”
He flushed. “Your mother knows I love her. I don’t need to say it. But I happen to love her a lot more now than I did when we were first married. We were practically strangers, living with our parents until the day we married. Now we’ve had years to build a good, solid relationship.”
“I think it’s a shame to admit you didn’t love Mom when you married. But at least now you love her, and that’s a good thing. As for me, I don’t plan on marrying anyone unless I love him with all my heart and can’t bear the thought of living without him.”
“So much passion. Is Monroe the reason for all this? Is that hell—” He huffed out a breath and started over. “Is Monroe part of your plan?”
She got to her feet and started toward the door. With her hand on the knob she turned. “I’ll let you know when I’ve figured that out.”
