by Tessa Layne
Their cries mingled as Ben thrust harder, deeper, his own release crashing over them as he emptied himself into her. Tears pricked at her eyelids as she held him against her, stroking his muscled back. After a time – it could have been minutes or hours for all she knew – Ben rolled away and reached for a blanket from a basket at the end of the couch, pulling it over them.
She stretched, snuggling into the curve of Ben’s arm. “I wish our tree house had a fireplace.”
He propped himself up on an elbow, studying her intently.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
He shook his head. “No. Only this is the first time I’ve ever heard you refer to the tree house as something other than yours.”
She stilled. It had just slipped out. She wasn’t sure when she’d started thinking of it differently. Maybe when they’d christened it, maybe sometime else. But she no longer thought of it as hers. “Is that okay?”
Ben’s expression became guarded. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then sat, contemplating the fire. “The tree house was as much a sanctuary for me as it was for you. I always thought of it as our hideaway.”
Ouch.
Guilt stabbed at her. How could she have fallen in love with Ben, even as a young girl, and not realized he cared as much about the tree house as she did?
He stared into the fire. “There was a lot I didn’t tell you about my life, growing up.”
Hope sat, the blanket falling to her waist. Her chest squeezed as she studied him. Ben looked so vulnerable in the flickering light. Like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. She couldn’t add to that. Not when there was nothing anyone could do about her bad choices anyway. She reached over and drew a hand down his sculpted arm, offering a supportive squeeze. “Why not?”
He threw her a sideways glance, eyes full of pain. “You made it clear the tree house was your haven. Your sanctuary. And you were so perfect. So innocent.”
Oh boy.
Guilt and compassion warred within her. “Ben, I’m not perfect. Far from it.”
He continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “It was enough just to be with you, to forget about home for a little while.”
“But why didn’t you say anything?”
“You know some of it – the stuff I couldn’t bear alone. But you were a kid. And there was, so much. I wouldn’t burden my sister with all that shit, I sure as heck wasn’t going to do it to you either.”
Just a kid. The sting of that, even all these years later, went deep. Had he ever seen her as an equal? As anyone other than someone who needed to be protected?
“I’m not a kid now.” I never was. She couldn’t keep the hurt from her voice.
Ben kept his focus on the fire. “I was maybe eight the first time I overheard my mother accusing Jake of cheating. I couldn’t sleep, and I’d snuck downstairs for a glass of milk, and they were arguing.”
The first time? A picture of him as a little boy leaped to her mind. Oh God. She couldn’t imagine what that would feel like. Her home had been chaotic, but her parents loved each other. Madly.
He continued, lost in the memory. “I’ll never forget the pain on her face. Or the way he snarled at her and told her to stay out of his business.” The muscles in his face drew taut. “I… as near as I can tell… she only stayed because of us.”
Stories long forgotten sprung to life. Of the first time Ben had reported Jake beating Brodie. Of the drunken rages. It stunned her to learn there was more. She wasn’t the only one carrying around a suitcase full of pain. “Oh, Ben. I know she loved you all. How could she not?” Tears sprang to her eyes and she moved close enough to rest her head on his shoulder.
“I came to the tree house the day she died. I wished more than anything you were there. I stayed for the longest time, conjuring you up. The way your cheeks peeled in the summer. The way your eyes crinkled when you laughed. Everything about you that made me smile,” his voice grew thick with emotion.
The ache that closed Hope’s throat spread to her chest, squeezing harder with each breath she took. She found his hand and laced his fingers with hers.
He brought their hands to his mouth, kissing her fingers. “I promised myself that day that I’d learn from her mistakes. That I’d never be part of a relationship built on lies. It destroyed her. And it scarred us, too, the ones she was trying to protect.”
The ache in her chest sank deeper. What would Ben say when he learned the truth? Would he dismiss her again and treat her like a dumb kid? A tendril of fear snaked through her. If she was going to ’fess up – let the whole sordid mess out in the open – she’d have to be prepared for that. And worse.
She’d rather live without Ben than lose his respect. Hope could stand anything, get through anything – even losing Ben a second time – but not if she didn’t have his respect. How could anyone respect her after what she’d done? Especially Ben? Hell, she didn’t even respect herself. In a moment of total panic, she’d made a stupid decision that had cost her future. Would Ben see it that way? Or would he fixate on the fact that she’d avoided telling him? Telling everyone? That she’d chosen the path of a coward?
Words buzzed in her throat, begging to be released. “Ben… I…”
In one fluid motion, he hauled her onto his lap, untwining their fingers and wrapping her in his arms. “I love you, Hope. I want to build a life with you.” His heart thudded in her ear, steady and strong.
“I love you too,” she murmured, her own heart pounding in time with his. She loved him so much it hurt, and yet her response felt hollow. She nestled deeper into his embrace, breathing him in. Seeking solace and absolution in his solid masculine presence. He’d given her his heart, wrapped in years of pain and tied with a ribbon of hope and expectation. How could she take it? Or add to his hurt, and give him one more thing to worry about that he couldn’t fix?
Again the words buzzed in her mouth, and she took a shuddering breath. Call her a coward of the worst kind, but she couldn’t. Not now at least. Maybe after she’d won the competition and held the prize money in her pocket. Then she’d be on equal footing and have a plan. She wouldn’t be dependent on him, or anyone else, for a solution to her sudden lack of a career. Maybe after proving to everyone she could do something, anything, on her own, the shame of her choices would dissipate. And then… then she could face him with the truth.
CHAPTER 23
Ben sat in the office on the top floor of the Big House wrapping up some paperwork for Blake. Maddie and Blake’s child would be here in five to six weeks. He and Blake had hustled all fall, but the ranch would be fine in the months after the baby was born with Ben at the helm.
Heck, if things continued like they were with Hope, maybe Blake could return the favor in a year. He’d only spoken to Blake about his intentions, but soon enough, he’d make the trek across Steele Creek to speak with Hope’s father. And more importantly, her brothers. Ben had offered to come with her to the Extreme Mustang event taking place in Manhattan in three weeks. He’d already made reservations at a B&B that stabled horses. Whatever the outcome of the competition, Hope would have his ring on her finger at the end of the night.
He couldn’t help the smile that started from a place deep inside him. Hope made him feel… he couldn’t define it. More himself. Better than he was alone.
The desk phone rang. “Ben here.”
“Surprised you’re not out counting pregnant cows.”
“Hi to you too, Cav. Did that the day after Thanksgiving. Front loading everything while we have the time.”
“Good. Good.”
“So can you meet us at the Tallgrass Tap House when we’re in Manhattan next week? We have some questions about the journal article you mentioned last week.”
“Absolutely. My schedule’s winding down for the semester.”
“Oh and by the way, I’m still working on Hope. I think if you met with her, she could be convinced to apply.”
Cav cleared his throat and stayed silent. After an
awkward moment he spoke. “About that. I’m surprised, Ben. I never took you for the type who’d expect me to give a pretty woman a pass.”
“Wait. What do you mean?”
He could hear Cav shuffling papers on his desk. What in the hell was going on? He’d never seen Cav that enthusiastic about a potential student. He was normally pretty reserved. He’d known Hope had impressed him at the party.
“You should talk to Hope.”
“I have.”
“Then why did you recommend her when you know we couldn’t possibly accept her into the program? It put me in a very awkward position when I spoke to the head of her former school.”
Ben’s stomach dropped. What the hell was going on? “I don’t follow.”
“Academic institutions have reputations to maintain, Ben. You know that. And while we can bend some rules for a talented student, we can never admit a student who’s been summarily dismissed from another university. I’m sorry.”
Ben’s head snapped back like he’d been sucker punched. Dismissed? “That doesn’t make sense, Cav. I’m sure there’s been a mistake someplace. Hope would nev–”
Cav’s voice grew brusque. “There’s been no mistake. I spoke with Sherman this morning. Hope was dismissed for cheating. We won’t touch her with a ten-foot pole.”
Ben opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Nausea roiled in his stomach. No fucking way. Hope would never cheat. It wasn’t who she was. She’d never even stolen penny candy from the Five and Dime as a kid. Hell, he’d even done that. Although when his mother found out, she’d made him return the uneaten stash and he’d been forced to muck stables by himself for a month.
Cav spoke after a moment. “I think you’ve let your affection for the girl cloud your judgment. And I think you need to give serious consideration about what overlooking behavior like that could mean for your reputation. You’ve always been one of our best references, Ben.”
“I… I… I’m sorry, Cav. I had no idea. You know I’d never knowingly refer a bad candidate.” He swallowed hard, still trying to process what he’d just heard.
Cav chuckled dryly. “Good to know.” He paused, “Was she playing you?”
“No…no.” This fuckup was all on him. Wasn’t it? She couldn’t be playing him. She’d never once tried manipulating him when they were younger. She was the most genuine woman he knew. Doubt niggled at him. Had she changed? Did he know her as well as he thought he did?
Ben scraped a hand over his face, scrabbling to bring his thoughts to order. “Can we get back to business?” He went through the rest of the conversation in a state of numbness, and when they finally clicked off, Ben couldn’t remember a word Cav had said.
Ben drummed his fingers on the desk as he stared out the window. The tall grass stretched before him, punctuated by leafless oaks, and the occasional white bark of a sycamore.
No wonder Hope had been so evasive. Changed the subject every time he asked. Did her family know? Had they closed ranks around her, and here he was, playing the fool? He’d definitely been a fool. Once again, he’d tried to fix someone who didn’t need or want his fixing. When would he ever learn?
Only this time the consequences included heartbreak. How could he be with someone who couldn’t be honest? Who wouldn’t trust him with basic facts? That was no way to build a relationship. A wave of anguish ripped through him.
How could she betray him like this? Betray them? God, he felt sick just thinking about it.
He rolled back from the desk. He had to see Hope. Right this second. Hear her tell him to his face why she felt she could lie to him about something as big as this. Especially when he’d put his reputation on the line for her and leveraged a valuable connection. He stomped down the stairs and out to the barn to saddle up Sergeant Pepper.
Twenty minutes later, he trotted out of the barn and headed north. As soon as he was out of sight of the Big House, he gave Pepper his head, and let him run. The bite in the air stung his face and brought tears to his eyes as he leaned low over the horse’s neck. Maybe he could run this sick feeling right out of his body. Clear his head.
He shut his eyes and focused on the sound of Pepper’s hooves pounding against the cold, hard ground. The thumping in his chest synced with the rhythm of the horse. How long he ran, he couldn’t tell. But eventually Pepper slowed to a trot, and then a walk. But his heartbeat still galloped as wildly as if horse and rider were still one.
He’d have to give Pepper a rub down before speaking with Hope. It was too cold to let him stand around after exerting himself like that. Turning Pepper toward Hansen land, Ben began to make his way down to Steele Creek, picking through the underbrush until he could find a shallow crossing. He’d be damned if he rode down by the tree house today.
Visiting the tree house would be like throwing salt on an open wound. Knowing what they’d shared there. Knowing it was all a lie. Another burst of anguish tore through him. How in the hell would he move on from this? Hope Hansen. The only woman to have broken his heart twice. To have broken his heart at all.
He yelled out, startling the horse. He pulled Pepper to a stop and bellowed again to the trees. He’d had a vision, dammit. A fucking vision. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. He shouted until his throat was raw, and still the pain bounced around his chest like a pinball, punching more and more holes in his heart.
When he’d spent himself, he urged Pepper on through the creek and crossed onto Hansen land in search of Hope. Hollering himself hoarse had at least cleared his head, taken a little edge off, and left him more numb than anything. Hope was most certainly in the pen working with Buttercup, so he pulled Pepper around back of the barn and entered through the far door. He couldn’t bear to watch her in her element.
He rubbed down Pepper and led him to one of the empty stalls near the door. He wouldn’t be here very long. Worst case, he could send Blake over to fetch the horse later. Bracing himself, he trudged the length of the barn, stopping periodically to admire the horse stock. This was the gelding and mare barn. Stallions were in another building. There was a reason the Hansens had earned the reputation of raising and training the finest horse stock in the region.
His feet grew heavier with each step. Hell, who was he fooling? This conversation would be the worst of his life. Worse than informing Jake, who’d been in a drunken stupor, that their mother had finally passed. When he reached the barn door, he steadied himself a last time then pushed through. Might as well get it over with quickly. Like tearing off a Band-Aid that had been stuck on too long.
He pushed open the door. The cold air bit him in a swirling ferocity that suited his mood. Never let it be said that the wind didn’t blow in Kansas. And the winter wind was the most bitter. He jammed his hands deep into the pockets of his Carharrt as he approached the ring, and wished again that he hadn’t forgotten his Stetson in his agitation.
Hope stood with her back to him, pale braids hanging down her back. Buttercup stood quietly wearing a saddle.
“I’ll be damned. She did it.” A ridiculous surge of pride swelled his heart, nearly choking him with its intensity. He stood transfixed as she removed the saddle, placing it on the ground and let out the lead line, allowing Buttercup to circle. Then she brought the horse to a stop, gave her a pet, then slowly replaced the saddle. The horse’s ears flicked, but she stood still, and let Hope slowly tighten the girth. And in a minute, the horse lowered its head and began licking and chewing.
She’d done it. She’d gentled a wild mustang. He should be celebrating with her, not standing here with his heart in shreds. She turned just then, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes bright and filled with excitement. The picture of her imprinted on his heart. His Hope was back. For the rest of his life he’d remember her like this.
He raised his hand, but didn’t approach. She turned and removed the saddle and blanket, and unhooked Buttercup from the lead. Leaving the saddle on the ground in the center of the arena, she hurried over, a bounce in her step.
Each
spring in her step stabbed at him. His breath caught in his throat. Her face changed as she approached, replaced with concern.
“Ben? What is it?”
The words stayed stuck in his chest. He couldn’t look at her. It hurt too much. “I had a call from Cavenaugh up at K-State about an hour ago.”
Instantly, she grew wary. “Oh?”
Oh? That was the best she could say? Even when he’d just given her the opening? Anger exploded through him. “Yes. Oh. When were you going to tell me, Hope? Were you ever going to tell me?”
Her eyes widened and he swore he saw a flash of fear cross her face, quickly to be replaced by a mask of calm. “Tell you what, Ben?”
So that’s how she was going to play it? Innocent until the bitter end. He’d been a fool. An utter fool. “That you got kicked out of school. For cheating?”
Pain registered in her eyes, but she at least had the grace to not look away. “That’s what Cavenaugh told you?”
His stomach dropped. “So it’s true then.” God, he was going to be sick. “Why in the hell didn’t you tell me?”
Her face pinched with worry. “I tried. I did. I… Oh, Ben.” She reached out and caught his arm, but he shrugged it away. “It’s complicated, and I didn’t know how. And I was so afraid.”
“It’s complicated?” He shook his head. “There’s nothing complicated about lying. Nothing. How hard did you try to tell me?” He knew he was being harsh, he could see it in the stricken look of her face, but she’d lied to him. And in his book, lying was a dealbreaker. “How many times did you avoid my questions? Change the subject?” His voice rose and he didn’t care. “You. Lied.”
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears and she shook her head. “Ben, please. It’s not like that. I know it seems like that–”
He raised his hand and cut her off. “Don’t insult me by sugar coating it. Were you ever going to tell me?”
“What did you want me to do, Ben?” Her chin rose a notch and she narrowed her eyes. “Waltz over to the Big House and shout from the rooftops as soon as I moved home that I’d gotten kicked out of school so you could start fixing me right away?” She fisted her hands on her hips. “It’s a lot more complicated than you think.”
