by R. C. Ryan
“Yeah.” Sam’s hand curled into a fist. “Same old Hank Henderson. Always shooting from the hip.”
Zachariah started toward the kitchen. “I saved you some supper, Benedict.”
Ben shook his head. “Thanks, Zachariah. I’m not hungry.”
Mary Pat laid a hand on Ben’s arm. “How is Rebecca holding up?”
“She’s at her parents’ place. I tried to see her. Hank barred my way.”
“Yeah. That son of a…” Sam hissed out a breath, but catching the look in his father’s eyes, held his silence.
“Hank will need some time.” Mac kept his tone even. “I’m sure, after he’s assured that his daughter is back to her old self, he’ll come around.”
“Come around?” Ben shot him a narrow look. “He won’t be satisfied until he gets his pound of flesh. It’s what he’s wanted all these years. He’s determined to prove to his daughter that I’m a good-for-nothing guy who should be locked up.” Ben turned away. “Maybe he’s right.”
Finn put a hand on his brother’s sleeve. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Ben shook off his touch. “What was I thinking? Was I a police officer or a school counselor? Maybe I was so intent on saving that misguided punk, I forgot the first rule of law. Instead of keeping Becca safe, I actually put her life in danger.”
“Hey now…”
Seeing his father’s slight shake of the head, Finn let his words die.
As Ben started toward the back door, Mac called, “Where are you going, son?”
Ben shrugged. “I’m going for a ride. Don’t wait up. I need some time up in the hills to think.”
The bleak look in his eyes was a warning to all of them to stand back and give him the room he needed, while he sorted out his troubling thoughts.
Mary Pat leaned her head back on the sturdy log swing, studying the stars. The gentle motion of the swing, along with the canopy of the night sky, had her sighing.
She glanced over at Mac, who had grown silent. Silent and stone-faced. Though she longed to comfort him, she knew he was a man who dealt with life on his own terms.
“What are you thinking?”
He kept his gaze fixed on the distant hills. “I hate to see Ben questioning his actions. But I hope, in time, he’ll come to realize that what he did was not only right, but also heroic.” He sighed. “I’m a lucky man.”
She waited, knowing he was searching for the words. As the comfortable silence stretched between them, he turned to her. “Know what I like best about you?”
At the sudden shift of topics, she merely looked at him.
“You don’t feel a need to always fill the silence with words.”
“Why bother, unless I have something to say?”
“Yeah. Exactly. I like that.”
They rocked together for a while longer.
Mac’s voice was little more than a whisper. “When did that angry, confused boy I took into my home become the man Ben is today?”
He didn’t wait for a reply. Instead he went on as if he hadn’t asked that question. “There was a moment today when my heart stopped.”
Mary Pat waited.
“I watched Ben put down his gun.” Mac shook his head. “Even though I knew he was doing it for all the right reasons, I wanted to beg him not to risk it. Then I figured I’d keep an eye on the shooter, to warn Ben if he made a move to fire. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take my eyes off Ben. I absolutely couldn’t look away. There he was, no longer that cocky boy, always ready with his fists, but now he was this larger-than-life man of peace. Perfectly calm. In control. He never flinched when the crowd turned on him. I doubt he even heard them. He went with his instinct to win that nervous punk’s trust. Today, I watched my son take a leap of faith.” He inhaled deeply. “And land safely.”
“Oh, Mac.” Overcome, Mary Pat closed her hand over his and fought the sting of tears.
“And now, because he did what he thought was the right thing, he may have to pay a very steep price.” Mac studied the stars. “Hank Henderson is a stubborn, controlling man who has backed himself into a corner by making a public statement he won’t want to retract. That makes him a dangerous adversary.”
“You said yourself Ben is a man.”
Mac nodded. “A man in love with a woman who could very well become the bargaining chip in a contest of wills between two very tough opponents.”
Mary Pat squeezed Mac’s hand. “If it comes to that, my money is on Ben.”
“From your lips…”
They remained there for an hour or more, comfortable in their shared silence, quietly hopeful that love could prevail.
“You wanted to talk to me, Sheriff?” Ben removed his hat and took the chair opposite Virgil’s desk. The bulky dressings of the first few days had now been replaced with lighter dressings as the bullet wound began to heal. The doctor had reminded Ben how lucky he was that the bullet hadn’t pierced any vital organs.
Virgil nodded toward the state police chief, seated beside his desk. “Chief Archer has some news.”
“Hank Henderson spoke to an attorney.” Chief Archer handed Ben a document. “He’s been looking for a way to have you removed as a deputy.”
Ben studied the document before handing it back. “That’s his right.”
“I’m afraid not.” The chief cleared his throat. “If you recall, I was concerned that you’d violated police procedure by setting aside your weapon.”
Ben nodded, preparing himself for the worst possible scenario. “It was my choice entirely. I take full responsibility. And if I have to…”
The chief held up a hand to stop him. “I had a meeting with my team of professional hostage negotiators. Some of them have been working in the field for years. They are all in agreement that in order to successfully end a scene such as the one you faced, they must first earn the complete trust of the one holding a hostage. By setting aside your weapon, you took that first all-important step. And you never actually put the hostage in danger. You had to be aware of your brothers on the roof of the hardware store. I’m told they’re nearly as good with a rifle as you are, and would have taken out the shooter before the hostage could be harmed.”
Ben nodded without saying a word.
“Would you like to know what my team is calling you?”
Ben shared a look with the sheriff.
“The coolest rookie ever.” The chief smiled. “Quite a compliment for a deputy on his first real test, coming from a team that is known for its success in hostage negotiating.”
“The coolest rookie ever.” Virgil Kerr rubbed his hands together. “I like it, Ben. Suits you.”
Ben sat back, letting the words of these two lawmen swirl around him while he reminded himself to breathe. When summoned here, he’d half expected to be stripped of his badge and possibly his freedom.
“So, there will be no lawsuit?”
Virgil swore. “Ben, you should know that Hank’s just too stubborn to back down. The son of a—” He stopped himself. “Hank mouthed off in public, and now he’s been trying to justify what he said. But the lawyer told him he doesn’t have a legal leg to stand on.” Virgil paused. “So, as far as any legal battle, this is the end of it. But if there’s anything…” He took a long look at Ben’s face. “Personal between you two, you’ll have to deal with it on your own dime.”
“Yeah.” Ben shifted, thinking about his failed attempts to see Rebecca this past week.
Her house remained vacant. No one answered the door at her parents’ house. And his phone calls went unanswered. Her father had had plenty of time to persuade his only child that her so-called hero was really an incompetent fool.
For all he knew, maybe he was. Maybe he’d actually let his concern for a misguided gunman color his judgment.
He pulled himself back from his troubling thoughts. “What about Ranaldo Rider?”
Virgil glanced at Chief Archer. “These state boys work fast.” He handed Ben a series of documents. “This
is a transcript of Rider’s preliminary hearing. You’ll notice your brother, Finn, was there to represent him.”
“Yeah. Finn told me.” Ben skimmed the document. “I see he managed to have the kidnapping charge reduced to assault.”
Chief Archer gave a grim smile. “By the time Finn got finished, the punk’s rap sheet read like that of a damned Boy Scout.”
“Not quite.” Ben chuckled. “I see Ranaldo admitted that the car he drove here was stolen. That’s grand theft, though he claims he borrowed it from a friend.”
“If he can prove he wasn’t the one who stole it, he could have that charge dropped, as well,” the chief said.
“The mother of his child…soon to be children,” Virgil corrected, “testified on his behalf, and said he was a loving, attentive father. And her mother testified that he’s promised to marry her daughter, get a job, and do his best to support his family.” The sheriff gave a shake of his head. “That’s a lot of promises for one street-tough delinquent to keep.”
“But at least he’s willing to try.”
“If he ever gets out of jail.”
Ben grinned. “Not ‘if.’ ‘When.’ With Finn representing him, Ranaldo may not do more than the minimum time. But he’ll be so tied up with legalities, he’ll walk the straight and narrow or find himself going back to jail.”
Chief Archer added, “Best of all, the dean of divinity school offered to mentor Ranaldo, to see that he gets the emotional support he needs to stick to his promises.”
Ben looked over at the sheriff. “And Will Theisen?”
Virgil shook his head. “I haven’t heard a word. He’s still living in his parents’ house, and pretty much staying by himself, off the grid. Probably trying to decide what his future will be. If he even has a future as an ordained minister.” The sheriff sat back, assuming a contemplative posture. “I have to admit I’m relieved things are moving so quickly. It eases my mind to know I won’t be leaving any unfinished business.”
“Leaving?” Ben sat up straighter. “What’s this about?”
Virgil sighed. “Now that I’ve had a few more physical therapy sessions, I have some decisions to make, too.”
Ben gave him a surprised look. “About what?”
“My future. The doctor said I can expect some long-term effects from this injury. One is arthritis. I can already feel it in the joint. Another is the challenge of passing a fitness test to remain in this job.”
“You’re as fit as anybody.”
“I used to think so. Not anymore.” The sheriff managed a grin. “I’m getting older. My wife wants me to step aside and enjoy life.”
“You don’t enjoy life now?”
Another grin. “I love being a police officer. It’s been my whole life. But I’ve been thinking about what I could do if I walked away from this. Annabelle and I love to fish and camp and hike. We’ve talked for years about hiking the Grand Canyon. If I’m going to do it, I can’t wait much longer.” He rubbed his leg. “Especially if this continues to get worse.” He looked over. “So, this is my long-winded way of saying, I know you told me you were only taking on the job of deputy until my leg healed, but if you’re willing to take on the job full-time, I’d like to recommend you to replace me as sheriff of Haller Creek.”
Ben went very still before slowly getting to his feet. “What you’re offering is an honor, Virgil, but I’m still on leave.”
“You’ve been cleared to return to duty.”
“I’m not sure the town is ready to accept me in a position of authority.”
“The town loves you, Ben. You’ve become their hero.”
Ben actually flinched at the word. “There are probably plenty of people who agree with Hank Henderson’s assessment that I shirked my duty to protect his daughter while coddling a criminal.”
“Son, you’d be hard-pressed to find many folks in this town who agree with Hank about anything. They know he likes to flap his jaw. They also know you, and most of them would rather entrust their safety to you than to Hank.” The sheriff shot him a long, steady look. “What do you say about the job offer?”
Ben shrugged. “I want you to know how honored I am, Virgil. I came here expecting bad news, and you’re offering me my heart’s desire. For a kid who knows the other side of the law, this is the offer of a lifetime. But I’d like to take some time to think long and hard about it.”
“Don’t take too long, son. My Annabelle is already making plans for our first trip. If you don’t agree”—he turned to Chief Archer—“I’ll have to ask the state police to recommend a replacement from within their ranks. And speaking of the state boys, Chief Archer assures me they’ll be filling in for me for the next couple of weeks. Consider this a well-earned vacation. So use this time to get your ducks in a row, Ben.”
With a thoughtful look and a handshake, Ben strode from the office.
“You can’t leave yet, Rebecca.” Susan stood in the doorway of her daughter’s old bedroom, watching as Rebecca began packing an overnight bag.
“Mom, I’m fine. In fact, I’ve been fine for days now. The only reason I agreed to stay on is because you and Dad were so adamant about my remaining here until I saw the doctor. Now that I have, and he’s given me a clean bill of health, there’s no reason for me to stay. I really need to get back to my own place.”
“But your dad will be upset if you leave while he’s at work.”
Rebecca knew it was cowardly, but she’d planned it this way. With her father away, it would prove easier to persuade her mother. “I’m only two blocks away. You and Dad can come over any time you want, just to assure yourselves I’m all right.”
Rebecca picked up her bag and descended the stairs, with her mother trailing behind. At the front door she turned and embraced Susan. “I love you, Mom. Thanks for all the chicken soup and chamomile tea. I feel really lucky to have you and Dad in my life.” She glanced around. “Where did you put my cell phone?”
“It’s…charging in the kitchen.” Susan kept up the lie Hank had been using for the past days, to keep their daughter safe from any attempt by Ben Monroe to contact her. First he’d told Rebecca her phone had been lost during the incident with Ranaldo Rider. Then, when she’d attempted to order a new phone, Hank said her old phone had been found in the dirt and was being repaired.
Susan hurried to the kitchen and returned with her daughter’s phone, knowing Hank had deleted all earlier calls.
“Thanks, Mom.” Rebecca pocketed her phone before hugging her mother.
As she walked the two blocks to her place, she scrolled through her phone, noting that Ben’s name was conspicuously absent.
Rebecca unpacked and moved listlessly from room to room.
She had no doubt Ben knew about her father’s very public angry tirade. Everyone in town knew about his feelings toward Ben.
Ben was such a proud man. And a good one. But not even a saint could take public condemnation without feeling its effects.
Was that why Ben hadn’t called or paid a visit?
She hoped, now that she was home, she could find a way to persuade him to give her another chance.
Or had her father’s television interview ended their relationship? Ben would have surely seen that horrible interview and watched her father’s hostile reaction. She had no doubt everyone in town had witnessed it by now. Did Ben think she agreed with her father? Had he started to believe that she shared her father’s anger and had turned against him?
Just thinking about that horrid interview and the hateful things her father had said had her cringing. How could she ever face Ben’s family after such a thing?
His silence since the incident with the shooter spoke volumes and had her questioning everything.
Why would a strong, capable man like Ben Monroe waste his time with a grown woman who still couldn’t muster the courage to live her own life without worrying about what her parents would say?
No wonder he’d gone silent.
What other reason could t
here be for this unexpected distance between them?
She chewed on her lower lip, deep in thought. Maybe it was even worse. Had he grown tired of her? After all, they had, for a short time, been inseparable. Now, with a tragedy averted, instead of growing closer, they’d become two strangers.
Did they even have a relationship? A few short days and nights of bliss offered no guarantee of a lifetime of love, as she well knew. Still, she’d thought she and Ben had found something rare and wonderful.
Had he given up on her? Was Ben weary of the push-and-pull with her father, after a lifetime of love and acceptance within his own family? It would be so hard for a proud man like Ben Monroe to think of any kind of future with a woman whose father was so narrow-minded.
She felt a wave of annoyance. She was doing it again. Examining an issue from every angle, and then coming to the conclusion that the fault had to be with her.
What about Ben? He wasn’t Mr. Perfect. Hadn’t he admitted to having a temper? Hadn’t he said he was rough and coarse and always waging a battle within himself to keep all the ugly words he’d learned as a boy from spilling out of his mouth? Hadn’t he kept his distance from her throughout their younger days, even though he’d admitted to caring about her? Would he have ever made a move if she hadn’t initiated it? Did that prove that his feelings weren’t as strong as hers?
When she felt tears burning her eyes, she blinked them away, determined to clean her house until it sparkled. If this was to be her new reality, she would work until she dropped. It was the only way she would get through the first long, lonely night of the rest of her life.
Chapter Thirty
Rebecca walked to the hardware store. Instead of going inside, she walked around to the fenced area, pausing to smile at the lovely wrought-iron leaves and flowers that spelled out BECCA’S GARDEN on the beautiful arch over the gate.
It was hard to believe this peaceful garden had held such terror for her just a week ago. She’d spent too many nights waking from the lingering nightmare. It was always the same. A sense of horror and revulsion, and then a shadowy figure stepping forward, easing all her fears with quiet confidence.
