by R. C. Ryan
Though she always woke before she could see his face, she knew the man in her dreams.
“Hey, Rodney.” She waved at the stock boy who had been pressed into service while she was out of commission.
She walked closer, seeing the bare spots in her displays. “Did you have many sales?”
“Did I ever.” He hurried over. “Ever since the Autumn Festival, folks have been stopping by and ordering the items that are out of stock. And that”—he pointed to the arched gate—“I think half the town wants to buy a fancy gate like this, with their family name on it. I told them I’d have to check with you to see if the artist is willing to take special orders.”
The artist.
The very words had Rebecca smiling. She couldn’t wait to pass along the exciting news to Roscoe.
Roscoe. The thought that Ben’s family had gone silent caused a terrible ache around her heart. It wasn’t just Ben who was missing from her life. She’d grown to love all his family. City-born Otis, with a heart-wrenching tale of love and loss. Roscoe, who despite his disheveled outward appearance had the soul of an artist. Prim, brilliant Zachariah, so formal and yet so sweet. Mackenzie Monroe, who had so generously opened his home and his heart to three difficult boys. And Mary Pat, who had been a substitute mother and teacher to every child in the town of Haller Creek.
She missed them all.
In fact, she realized with a lump in her throat, she loved them all.
She swallowed. “Did Deputy Monroe stop by while I was recovering?”
The young man shook his head. “Not while I was working. You might want to check with your dad, though, since he came by every evening to tally the sales and empty the register. He didn’t want anybody but him handling the deposits.”
Rebecca nodded. “Yeah. That’s my dad. He has to be in charge of everything.”
When she’d asked about Ben, her father said he’d neither called nor paid a visit. Her mother confirmed what Hank said, but then, didn’t her mother always agree with her father?
At the time of her recovery, the news that Ben was absent had been devastating. Of course, her mind had been clouded by the pain medication.
Now she was clearheaded, and her father’s explanation had too many holes in it.
Where were the calls from her friends, who had resorted to dropping by without warning? Had they tried to phone her first? Had those calls somehow been deleted from her phone?
Of course. Her father would have convinced himself that he was doing the right thing for his daughter.
Without giving a thought to the consequences, she dialed Ben’s number.
Instead of ringing, it went straight to voice mail.
Her voice was almost breathless. “Ben, it’s Becca. I’ve seen the doctor and he’s cleared me to return to my house and resume work. Call me as soon as you get this message.”
To keep busy, she spent the next hour or so making a slow circle around the displays, rearranging the merchandise, noting the items that had sold out and needed to be replaced with fresh merchandise, and thinking about what else to add. Lamar and Lloyd Platt were going to have a very busy winter.
Ben had been up before dawn, riding with the others into the hills to bring down the herds. It was dirty work, eating trail dust behind a sea of cattle, but he and his family worked as a team until the herd was installed in the lowlands for the coming winter.
While the others drifted off to shower and catch a break from the never-ending chores, Ben worked alone in the barn, mucking the stalls.
Sam and Finn, freshly showered, went to call him for supper.
Seeing the overflowing honey wagon, Sam reached for the handles, but Ben shoved him aside. “I’ve got this.”
While Sam and Finn stood watching, Ben wheeled the wagon, filled to the brim with wet straw and dung.
His muscles strained as he hauled it out of the barn and up the hill to where Otis was working in his garden, digging out roots and plants and dropping them into a pile for compost.
Without pausing, Ben dumped the wagon load and made his way back to the barn, where he set aside the wagon and climbed to the hayloft to fork fresh hay to the floor below.
Sam put his hand to his mouth to shout, “Come on, Ben. Zachariah called us in to supper.”
Ben scowled. “You two go ahead. I’m not hungry.”
Sam looked up. “That’s what you said this morning. And yesterday.”
“Just tell the family to eat without me.”
“Yeah. Sure thing. But at least join us for a beer.”
“In a few minutes.”
Sam turned away. In the doorway of the barn he paused to look back. Ben was attacking the hay the same way he’d attacked the filthy stalls and, earlier, the ornery cattle, with a vengeance that had him muttering under his breath.
Sam nudged his brother. “And we worried we’d be doing double-duty.”
“Yeah. Lately he’s been doing more than the rest of us combined.” Finn gave a mock shudder as they stepped into the kitchen. “I just hope he gets his smile back soon.”
Beside him Finn muttered, “What’s he got to smile about?”
Hearing them, Zachariah glanced at Mary Pat, who had stopped by after a visit with Lamar and Lloyd Platt and was busy tossing a salad.
“We’re all worried about Benedict. He’s been in a foul mood for days now.”
She turned to Mac, who was sipping a longneck and staring morosely out the window. “Any more talk about Hank Henderson’s lawsuit against him?”
Mac shook his head. “According to the sheriff, that’s a dead issue.”
“Then his mood must involve…” She paused. “Has he talked with Rebecca since the…incident?”
“Not that I know of.”
“I see.” She fell silent. “Then I guess we all know what the trouble is.”
Mac turned away from the window and drained his beer. “We know. And there isn’t a thing we can do about it. They’re two adults. They’ll work this out, or they won’t.”
Hearing his father, Sam opened the refrigerator and handed Finn a longneck before helping himself to one. “If they don’t figure things out soon, it’s going to be a long, cold winter.”
Rebecca closed up her business and checked her phone for messages. Finding none, she dialed Ben’s number and listened as it went instantly to voice mail yet again.
“Ben.” She tried to keep her voice calm, despite the sense of desperation she was experiencing. “I’ve left you half a dozen messages, and you haven’t returned any of them. I hope everything’s all right between us. I know we haven’t talked since that…incident, but my phone wasn’t available until now. Please call me when you get this.”
As she slipped her cell phone into her pocket, she felt a deep shadow of fear worrying the edges of her mind. She didn’t want to overthink this, but Ben’s absence had to be deliberate.
He’d given up on her.
She wanted to be angry with him. It was true, he had some faults. But they would never keep her from wanting to be with him. How dare he turn away from her, without a word? Unless…Could her feelings for him be stronger than his feelings for her?
Maybe it wasn’t so much that her feelings were stronger than his, but rather that his discipline, his inner strength, kept him from acting on his feelings out of a sense of respect or duty.
She stood perfectly still as a jumble of thoughts struck.
Respect. Duty.
Those were words that truly defined the man Ben had become.
But her father’s hateful words spoken in such a public forum, plus his attempt to sue to keep Ben from ever wearing a badge again, may have been the final straw.
Determined to act before losing her nerve, she strode inside the hardware store and went in search of her father.
Hank was out back, at the loading dock, giving Eli a hand with an order. He looked up with a frown. “You shouldn’t be here. I thought you were just going to stop by to check out your business, and then
head home.”
“I’d like to borrow one of the company trucks.”
“This isn’t the time for such things. You need to rest.”
“I’ve spent a week resting. I need the truck, Dad.”
“Why?”
“I…” She avoided his steady gaze. “Have a run to make.”
“More merchandise for your garden shop?”
She shrugged, uncomfortable with even that small attempt at a lie. If her father knew how desperate she was to see Ben, to talk to him, he would find a way to deny her the use of a vehicle and probably try to lock her away as he had for the past week. And so she held her silence, fearing this may be her last chance to get things right.
Hank spared her any guilt by giving a grudging nod. “Take the smaller truck. That way I won’t have to worry if you mess up. The keys are on my desk.”
“Thanks, Dad.” She hurried away, nerves frayed to the breaking point, her stomach in knots.
As the truck drew near the Monroe ranch, Rebecca spotted Roscoe and Otis just walking into the house.
Seeing her, the two men broke into wide grins.
Otis waved. “Now aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. How are you, Miss Becca?”
“I’m fine, Otis. Roscoe.”
As the old cowboy held the door, she stepped past him and struggled to keep her tone casual. “I realize it’s supper time. I hope I’m not intruding.”
“You’re never an intrusion, Miss Becca.”
Both men paused to wash up while she walked into the kitchen, where she greeted Zachariah, Mary Pat, Mac, and Ben’s two brothers. Her smile faltered slightly when she realized Ben wasn’t with them.
“What brings you here?” Sam winked before adding, “I bet you just happened to be in the neighborhood.”
“Yes, I…” She knew her cheeks were red, but she gamely plowed ahead. “I borrowed my father’s truck and thought…”
“I’ll have that beer now.” Ben’s voice was a growl as the back door slammed. He rolled his sleeves and paused at the sink to wash.
Sam nudged Finn. “Coming right up, bro.”
He stuck out his hand, holding up a longneck as Ben stalked into the kitchen.
The bottle was halfway to Ben’s mouth before he caught sight of Rebecca standing there. For the space of a heartbeat he seemed frozen in place.
“Hello, Ben.”
At the sound of her voice he struggled to compose himself. “Becca.”
“Isn’t this a lovely surprise?” Mary Pat set the salad in the middle of the table. “Rebecca, you’ll stay for supper, won’t you?”
“I don’t know. I guess that depends.” She stared pointedly at Ben. “Am I welcome here?”
“You’re always welcome…” Sam’s words faded when he realized the entire family was giving him the hairy eyeball.
He closed his mouth and joined the rest of them staring from Ben to Becca and back to Ben.
Ben took a swig of beer. “You heard Sam.”
“I want to hear it from you, Ben.”
He swallowed. “You know you’re welcome to stay.”
“Is that what you’d like? Or are you just being polite?”
His tone hardened as his hand snaked out, snaring her wrist. “Considering the mood I’m in, I’d rather not hash this out in public. Let’s take this in the parlor.”
“No. Stay—” Sam’s words were abruptly cut off by Finn’s hand over his mouth.
Ben practically dragged Rebecca through the doorway into the front room before slamming the door.
He lowered his hand, clenching it into a fist at his side to keep from dragging her against him. For long moments he merely stared at her like a starving man seeing a banquet. And then he caught the glint of fire in her eyes. “All right. What game are you playing, Becca?”
“This isn’t a game, Ben. I’m sick and tired of playing games. Did you try calling me while I was at my parents’ house?”
“I called. A few dozen times. You never once returned my calls.”
At his words, her heart took a hard, joyous bounce.
“I stopped by to see for myself how you were feeling, but your father ordered me off his property and threatened to have me arrested for trespassing if I showed up again. At first I figured he was just being overprotective. But after a while, I started to wonder why I was fooling myself. The message that I wasn’t welcome came through loud and clear.”
“That was my father. That wasn’t me.”
Ben gave a negligent shrug of his shoulders. “If you say so.”
Gathering her courage, Becca’s eyes narrowed and she poked a finger in his chest. “I came here to say something. And I’d like you to give me the courtesy of listening.”
The look in his eyes had her taking a step back. Then, before she could lose her nerve, she lifted her chin a fraction. “Remember that sweet girl you once knew?”
His nostrils flared, but he held his silence.
Rebecca thought about taking another step back, away from the hot, blazing flare of heat, but instead she stood her ground. “I didn’t like her. Timid doesn’t win wars. So she’s gone for good.”
“You’re out to win wars now?”
She nodded. “This isn’t exactly the kind of battle I wanted, but now that I’m stuck with it, I intend to see it through.”
“Who are you fighting?”
“My father. Or I should say, his pigheaded attitude.”
There was the slightest curve of Ben’s lips, but his eyes remained hot with anger.
“And you, Ben. Or I should say, your damnable stoic acceptance of my father’s narrow-minded prejudice.”
His smile was instantly wiped away. “Stoic? What would you have me do? Engage your father in a knock-down, drag-out brawl in the middle of town?”
“I’m sure that would be satisfying for everybody to see. But there would be no winners.” She shook her head. “I didn’t come here to talk about getting even. I want to know why you’ve been avoiding my calls.”
“You called?” He lifted his phone from his pocket. “I was up in the hills most of the day. There’s no service up there.” He paused, seeing what he’d missed earlier. “What about my calls to you?”
“When my phone was finally returned to me today, it was wiped clean. I believe my father erased all my phone messages. I know he was determined to keep me quiet so I could heal, but you know how controlling he can be. Even my mother refuses to cross him. He was furious with the way you handled that…situation, and I’m sure he believed he was doing the right thing by keeping us apart.”
Ben’s voice was weary. “Maybe your father is right.”
She studied the way he looked, a stubble of beard darkening his cheeks and chin, his eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep. “Why this change of heart, Ben? Why weren’t you willing to keep on fighting for me?”
He took his time, choosing his words carefully. “Virgil is thinking about retiring. He asked me to consider becoming sheriff.”
Rebecca was caught by surprise. “That’s a wonderful compliment to you, Ben. Congratulations.”
“There’s nothing to celebrate.”
“I don’t understand. What did you tell him?”
“That I need some time.”
“Time? Why? Ben, everyone in Haller Creek, with the exception of my father, thinks you’re perfect for the job. You don’t agree?”
He shrugged and looked away.
“Are you thinking, after that…incident in town, that your family would rather have you work on the ranch?”
“My family will back me up on whatever choice I make in life.”
“Then why the hesitation?”
He set aside his beer and gave her a long, steady look. “There are risks involved. Not every conflict can be resolved without a gunfight.”
“In all the years I’ve known you, Ben Monroe, you’ve never backed away from a fight, whether it’s with your fists or your gun.”
He shook his head. “You know me too
well, Becca.”
“Then why…?”
He put a hand over hers, and the look he gave her had her heart stopping. “Every peace officer wears a bull’s-eye on his back. He’s a target for anyone who runs from the law.”
“After that incident, you’re…afraid?”
“Not for myself. But if I want a future with…” He stopped and tried again. “Becca, a lawman makes a lousy partner in life. Not every woman can be married to such a man. Especially a woman with parents like yours. Every day, there are risks that could mean life or death.”
“Wait. Are you considering…” As his words sank in, she had to swallow and try again. “Are you saying you’d walk away from me rather than ask me to worry over you?”
“Think about it, Becca. That would be your future. Wondering every time I left for work if this is the day I don’t make it home.”
“And here I thought…” She stopped.
“What did you think, Becca?”
“That you’d given up on us. That you just didn’t want to see me anymore.”
“How could you even think such a thing?”
“First, there’s my father. He’s made no secret of his feelings about you.”
“We’re two adults. Your father doesn’t enter into this.”
“All right.” She gave a slow shake of her head, as though trying to take it all in. “I thought, after all my father put you through, that this was that karma you’re so fond of talking about.”
His smile was slow to come, but when it did, he allowed himself to touch her, framing her face with his big hands and staring down into her eyes. “Becca, this past week I’ve been trying to imagine my life without you in it. I’ve been miserable. I can’t do it. That’s why, if you aren’t comfortable with marriage to a sheriff, I’ll gladly step away from it.”
“Oh, Ben. I came here thinking I’d have to fight to get you back. More than anything, I want to share my life with you. Whether you choose to be a lawman or a rancher, all I ask is that you never shut me out.”
“You’re sure?”
