With One More Look At You

by Mary J. Williams

  "I don't see any torches or pitchforks."

  They stood on the first-floor balcony that ran along the back of the courthouse. A podium and microphone were set up in the center, near the railing.

  Suppressing a chuckle, Aaron straightened his tie. "That was a long time ago. And you had nothing to do with what happened."

  "I'm my father's son."

  "Nobody placed the blame for what happened on Newt. He never lost the respect or love of this community."

  Forbes nodded, hoping it was true. He had never wanted his father to suffer for his mistakes, but that was exactly what happened. Newt had married Joy of his own free will. But no one could have anticipated what a disaster it would be. Or how many people would suffer as a result.

  Hindsight. Turned out it was a mother-fucking bitch.

  Aaron stepped to the podium.

  "Ladies and gentlemen." The crowd quieted. "Every day I come to work honored and grateful that you've trusted me to be your mayor. However, there are times that go beyond the everyday. Ever since our beloved chief of police announced his retirement, we've searched diligently for the right person to take over the job. You'll note that I didn't use the word replace. Ernie Didier was—and is—one of a kind. For over thirty years, he served Cloverdale, remaining at all times fair and dedicated. However, time moves on. Today we're here to welcome a new chief of police and at the same time, welcome home one of our own. Give a rousing round of applause to Chief Forbes Benson."

  FORBES SPENT THE next hour shaking hands and listening to grievances. He was still learning his responsibilities, but he was pretty certain he wasn't responsible for the mating habits of the local cat population.

  "Try keeping your Tiddles in at night, Mrs. Truman. Or you could have him neutered. A lot of people consider it the responsible thing to do."

  "Isn't it dangerous?" the elderly lady asked, clutching her wicker purse with gloved hands.

  "Not a bit," Forbes assured her. "A simple trip to the veterinarian and Tiddles will no longer be tempted to wander. So to speak."

  "Well, done," Aaron said. "You've sent Mrs. Truman away a happy lady."

  "I wonder if Tiddles will be as grateful." Forbes made a snipping motion with his fingers.

  Aaron grimaced. "Better Tiddles than me."

  "Amen, brother."

  Chuckling, Forbes turned his head when he heard somebody call out his name. Seeing who it was, he opened his arms.

  "Hello, Maeve."

  "It's been too long."

  A little older, a little rounder, Maeve still gave the best hugs in the world. For the first time, Forbes felt the tug of home.

  "I didn't expect to see you today," Forbes said.

  Maeve pulled a tissue from her purse, dabbing the tears from her eyes.

  "Nothing could have kept me away. Mike and Jerry drove me."

  "Hey, kid." Mike grinned from ear to ear. Hair slicked back, he held his special occasion Stetson in his hand. "Good to have you home."

  Jerry pushed Mike aside to slap Forbes on the back. His hat was still on his head, but the familiar scent of the cologne he only broke out for something important filled the air. "Chief Branson. Has a nice ring to it. By the way, I have a speeding ticket that—"

  "Don't start that," Maeve warned, though it was said with a smile. "Forbes won't be showing any favoritism. Isn't that right?"

  "Absolutely. The letter of the law and nothing but," Forbes assured her. Surreptitiously, his gaze kept wandering to the crowd. Naturally, eagle eyed as ever, Maeve took note.

  "Sophie couldn't make it. But you'll see her at dinner."

  "It's a busy time," Jerry added. "Can't have everybody off the ranch at one time."

  That was a load of crap. Jerry knew it, and so did Forbes. If Sophie had wanted to be there, she would be. Not that he was surprised. Disappointed, but not surprised.

  "I've missed your cooking, Maeve."

  "I can tell." Maeve huffed. "You're skinny. Never had that problem when I fed you."

  Almost twenty pounds under his normal weight, it had come off while Forbes was in the hospital. To stop her from worrying, he had deliberately kept the news of his injury from Maeve. Jerry, Mike, and Aaron were the only ones who knew—at least the part he could share with them.

  Unfortunately, he was flat on his back fighting a nasty infection when he received the news of his father's death.

  "About Dad's funeral, Maeve. I—"

  "Funerals are for the living, Forbes. Your father would have been the first one to understand why you weren't there. You and Newt made peace a long time ago. That's all that mattered to him. It's all that should matter to you. Okay?"

  Maeve had always known just the right thing to say and now was no exception. The guilt Forbes had carried around for weeks lifted—a little.

  "Are you through for the day?" Mike asked.

  The crowd had thinned. Aaron and Cindy had left to pick their oldest daughter up from her piano lesson. Technically, Forbes' first day on the job would be Monday. But he wanted to stop at the police station to look around.

  "I'll see you all at home."

  Home. It had a damn fine sound to it. Forbes had laid his head in a lot of places, but none had come close to being a home. He walked with Maeve, Mike, and Jerry to their car, waving as they pulled away.

  "Hello, stranger."

  "Daphne."

  Forbes barely had time to say her name before she was in his arms, her mouth glued to his. The kiss was short and kind of sweet. When Daphne pulled back, she gave him a smile that he remembered well.

  "I might not be the first to welcome you home, but I hope I made my version memorable."

  More than memorable. Daphne had surprised the hell out of him.

  "I didn't think you'd want to talk to me."

  Daphne looked genuinely puzzled. "Come on, Forbes. It would be ridiculous to hold you responsible."

  "Joy was my stepmother." The words left a bad taste in his mouth. "It might not make any sense, but I feel like I owe you an apology."

  "The bitch broke up my parents' marriage. There. I said it. Believe me, I cried more than a few tears over it. And wished that woman to hell—and worse. But it never had anything to do with you."

  "I appreciate you saying that, Daphne."

  "I didn't want our first meeting to be awkward." Daphne grinned. "I think I took care of that. Look. I have to run. But promise we'll get together soon so we can catch up."

  "That sounds good."

  Funny how easy he found it to forget how many years had passed. When Forbes pictured Cloverdale and everyone who lived here, they were frozen in time. That wasn't the case. Obviously, Daphne had come to terms with what had happened. He wondered if the same could be said for the rest of the townsfolk. Forbes' return was bound to stir up talk. Gossip never really died. Joy had left her husband to be with someone else. Two marriages had been torn apart. That was a juicy story on its own.

  What took the story to another level was that the man Joy ran off with wasn't a man at all, but a woman. Daphne's mother.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  FORBES HAD FINALLY come home, and everybody had known. Everybody but Sophie. The people who she thought were her friends—her family—had deliberately kept her out of the loop. And it hurt. A lot.

  Out of frustration, Sophie gave into an impulse—something she rarely did even when she was alone with no witnesses. Picking up a pillow, she buried her face and screamed. Loud. Long. All the while stomping her feet. Her version of a temper tantrum. But she was twenty-seven years old with a reputation to maintain.

  Cool, composed, and in charge. Sophie liked it that way. She was running a business dominated by males. It hadn't been easy. She had been sixteen years old. Forbes had left. Then Joy. Deathly afraid that Newt would throw her out, she kept her head down, hoping he would forget she was there.

  It turned out, Sophie had nothing to worry about. Newt didn't care about
her. Or anything else. He fell into a deep depression accompanied by a lot of alcohol. No one could talk to him, though his friends tried. For their effort, he threw them out and told them to stay away.

  Mike and Jerry did their best to keep the ranch going, but there was more to it than mending fences and branding cattle. Someone needed to be at the helm. There were salaries to see to. Paperwork to complete. Feed to order. Buyers. Distributers. The list went on and on.

  After a few months of watching everything—and everyone—around her falling apart, Sophie knew she had to do something. Perhaps it was all the years of dealing with a crazy mother. To survive, she had learned to adapt to whatever was thrown at her. That had always meant staying out of the way. She would figuratively curl into the smallest ball possible to ride out the latest storm.

  But an invisible Sophie wasn't what Newt needed. So, she adapted.

  Learning came easily to Sophie. The problem was getting Newt to teach her. After a couple of huge stumbles, she finally hit on the right recipe for success. The secret was catching him first thing in the morning. Before she had to leave for school and before he had his first drink. And questions. Hundreds of questions. Newt soon realized that the only way to get Sophie to leave him alone was to tell her what she wanted to know. In a few weeks, she had a rudimentary idea of how things worked. In a few months, had taken over the business—in the office. After that, she fell naturally into running every part of the ranch.

  Not that it had been easy. However, from the very beginning—when her insides had the consistency of a bowl of JELL-O—Sophie refused to blink. She knew she had to hit the ground running, and established her position of power. She made it clear. Her way or the highway. More than one cowboy had quit rather than take orders from a girl. However, the ones that stuck around discovered she was tough, but fair to the bone.

  Sophie had one rule carved in stone. Do the work. They found times when a day ended at noon. Other times, they were pushing cattle at one in the morning. Working beside them whenever possible, she led by example. She gave one-hundred-percent effort and expected the same from the men who worked for her.

  After a year, Newt finally hit rock bottom. He entered rehab. Then began the process of rebuilding bridges. They were glad to have him back. Not exactly the man he had been before, but close enough.

  However, if anybody thought things around the Bronson ranch would return to the way they had been, they were in for a shock. Newt took back the reins, but not all of the responsibility. As far as he was concerned, Sophie had earned her place—and no one argued.

  Sophie flopped onto the bed, adjusting the pillow under her head. Without the support of Mike and Jerry, she would have failed—miserably. They made it known that they had her back. When she gave an order, they never questioned her in front of the other ranch hands. If they disagreed or had a suggestion, they waited until they could speak to her alone.

  Maeve gave Sophie a shoulder to lean on and listened when she needed to vent. When Sophie was at the end of her rope, clutching at the frayed ends, Maeve was the one who propped her up.

  Mike, Jerry, and Maeve. They had become Sophie's friends and her family. They had been through so much. Why hadn't they told her that Forbes was coming home? It felt like a betrayal. Like they were already choosing sides, and she was getting pushed aside in favor of the blood heir.

  Over lunch, Maeve had done her best to explain.

  "Forbes made the decision quickly. Yes, he had been thinking about coming back for a while. But it wasn't until Aaron offered him the chief of police job that he made up his mind."

  "His father's death wasn't reason enough?" Sophie took a bite of her sandwich. She felt a lump in her stomach, but, as always, nothing could kill her appetite. "Or three months ago, when Newt was alive and would have appreciated spending time with his son."

  "Sophie—"

  "If you plan on defending him, I don't want to hear it. I'm happy that Newt and Forbes reconciled. The phone calls and FaceTime. Fantastic. And wasn't it great of him to fly his father to New York one Christmas. And Paris one spring. And all the other places. A week here or there. What a freaking saint."

  Sophie knew how she sounded. Like a bitter, petulant child. Didn't she have the right? Twelve years, damn it. Forbes had reached out to everybody. Newt. Maeve. Mike and Jerry. Everybody but her. Why? She had asked herself that question a million times.

  Only one thing made sense. Forbes blamed her.

  The whole ugly truth had come out after Joy ran off. Sophie had poured her heart out to Maeve, confessing her part, ready for the punishment she deserved. Instead of going to Newt—who in retrospect had been in no condition to listen—the housekeeper had cursed the woman who wrecked so many lives.

  "Joy is the villain, Sophie. Would it have helped if you'd told the truth? Maybe. Maybe not. Your sister—I mean mother." Maeve had sighed. "It's going to take a little while to get used to that one. From the moment she met Newt, her claws took hold. And Newt let her. Believe me, I'm not giving him a total pass. But you?" Maeve had gently smoothed a hand over Sophie's hair. "Just the thought of what that woman put you through makes my blood run cold. I understand why you kept quiet and I don't blame you one bit."

  When Newt learned the truth, he felt the same as Maeve. As had Mike and Jerry. They were so kind and understanding, Sophie wanted to cry. Which she did as soon as she was alone in her room.

  No one had blamed Sophie. Except for Forbes. And it seemed that hadn't changed. The jerk.

  As Sophie pulled off her clothes, she wondered if she made too much of it. Maybe Forbes didn't blame her. Maybe he never had. Maybe he simply didn't care about her one way or the other. Not hate or affection. Not blame or forgiveness. Nothing.

  Sophie had spent the whole day gearing up for when they came face to face. She would be polite. If he spoke to her, she would respond in a civilized manner. Cool, calm, and collected. Mature. She was no longer a girl. They were on equal footing. Satisfied with how she would handle the meeting, she had almost been looking forward it. Then he didn't show up.

  True, Forbes had the courtesy to call Maeve. Some old friends had insisted on him joining them for a drink. Probably more than one. Rather than hold everyone up, he told her to go ahead without him.

  Maeve had taken it in stride. As had Mike and Jerry. Sophie had fumed in silence.

  Sophie slipped a t-shirt over her head before heading for the bathroom to brush her teeth. Looking at herself in the mirror, she sighed. It had been a long time since she had ridden an emotional rollercoaster and had forgotten how exhausting it could be. After the fire this morning and a full day riding fences, she was ready to shut down her mind and her body. There would be no late-night walks this evening.

  "I'm not really upset with Maeve. Or Jerry and Mike. This morning, their silence regarding Forbes felt like a betrayal. Tonight." Sophie frowned. "Disappointed is a better word. We've been through too much. I will not let Forbes cause a rift. Even a temporary one. He will not get in my head, Dandi. You have my word on it."

  Already settled on her bed in the corner of the room, Dandi raised her head inquiringly when she heard her name.

  "I know what you're thinking. He's already there. Even when I'd go a week or two without giving him a thought, he lurked in a dark corner of my brain. You might be right."

  Dandi stared unblinking as if to say, Of course, I'm right. Aren't I always?

  "It was only natural," Sophie continued her one-sided argument. "Forbes kissed me. I was bound to think about him after that. Do you think he did it on purpose?" Sophie nodded, punching her pillow. "Me, too. Jerk."

  Reaching over, Sophie turned off the bedside light. There had been many, many more kisses. Good ones. A few that were great. And a couple that bordered on spectacular. So what if the one she shared with Forbes had been the sweetest? And yes, if she were completely honest, the most memorable? She was no longer a clueless fifteen-year-old girl. Whatever Forbes had to
throw at her this time around, she was more than ready.

  The thought put a smile on Sophie's lips, staying there as she drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  THE FAMILIAR SQUEAK of the floorboard woke Sophie. However, it had been so long since she heard the noise, she wondered if it had been her imagination. The string of curse words that followed moments later gave her the answer.

  Definitely not her imagination.

  Throwing back the covers, Sophie rushed across the room. When she pulled open the bedroom door, she was greeted with the sight of a man—feet bare, shoes in hand—tiptoeing down the hall.

  "You're still about as quiet as an avalanche. I guess some things never change."

  Forbes stopped. With a sigh, his head fell back.

  "It was an accident," he said.

  "I've heard that before."

  Slowly, Forbes turned to face her. As crazy as it sounded, Sophie found herself holding her breath as if expecting… What? He wasn't that much older. How much could he have changed?

  What Sophie realized the instant she looked into those oh-so-familiar eyes, was that she had asked the wrong question. Forbes had changed, but that wasn't it. It was her. She was different.

  The kiss Forbes gave her just before he left hadn't magically sparked Sophie's hormones into action. A year passed before she was interested in going on her first date with a very nice boy who gave her a very nice kiss good night.

  If over the years she occasionally thought about how Forbes' lips had felt against hers, so what? It didn't mean anything. The last time she saw him, it wouldn't have entered her mind to think of him as anything but a friend. She hadn't been ready.

  Now? Sophie looked at Forbes. Had he always been so handsome? Her eyes moved from feature to feature. A strong, straight nose. Killer cheekbones. Full lips and a chin that seemed to beg her to knock him down a few pegs. Her heart rate had accelerated. Her skin felt hot. Apparently, her twenty-seven-year-old hormones worked just fine.