by Deb Kastner
Chief’s gaze turned to Jo and he immediately nodded his consent. People didn’t often cross Jo Spencer, and it didn’t look like Chief was going to do so now. Besides, it was very likely that if he argued, he’d find himself ganged up on by a whole horde of women, not just Jo, and no man wanted to be put in that position, not even the chief of the fire station.
“Yes, of course,” he offered. “I’m sure we can find you something to do.”
Something appropriate, Ben hoped.
“I was just going to see if I could help set up tables,” Ben said, addressing Vee. “Maybe you could follow along with plates and silverware?” He held his breath, waiting to see if she was going to blow up at him or not.
Surprisingly, she looked relieved at his suggestion. “Sure. I guess I can do that. Then maybe I can help serve the food.”
Ben nodded. Obviously it wouldn’t do any good to argue with her. The harder any of them pushed, the harder she’d push back.
Maybe he could discreetly lead her into the least messy projects. She didn’t have to know he was moving with any particular purpose in mind or that he was keeping a close eye on her.
It was a personal thing.
Because how sad would it be if she got that pretty blue dress dirty? That would be a disservice to all of mankind.
He had to admit that he himself couldn’t stop staring at her and reveling in the remarkable change she had made. If he had to work by her side all afternoon to make sure she didn’t get food slopped all over her, or if he had to take care of cleaning all the greasy pans himself so she didn’t have to, then so be it.
A man had to do what a man had to do.
Chapter Eight
By the time Vee had finished serving hot biscuits during the banquet and had washed down all of the tablecloths with a wet rag afterward, she was nearly ready to call a forfeit to the game.
Not only was she utterly exhausted, but her feet felt as if they’d been in a vise for a week. She was certain she had several blisters forming, and all she could think about was going home to soak her aching toes in a hot bath with fragrant candles and lots of bubbles to soothe her frayed nerves.
She couldn’t wait to write to BJ and tell him how the event had gone...the event in question being the unveiling of her new look rather than the Easter banquet itself. The truth was, both affairs were a surprising success after everyone got used to the idea that she was wearing a dress and stopped harassing her about it. Even after everyone had turned to their work, she’d notice men’s eyes on her from time to time.
Men. Watching her. Simply mind-boggling.
Vee put a hand to the small of her back and stretched. It was all she could do to keep from groaning aloud, but because Ben had not left her side since the beginning of the afternoon, pride meant that she had to keep her aches and pains to herself, even if that meant gritting her teeth until her jaw hurt.
She wasn’t about to admit that the dress or the heels in any way fazed her or made her life more difficult. She’d toughed out more agonizingly painful situations than the high heels that were biting into her feet. Hazing Week at the fire academy had been worse.
Hadn’t it? At the moment, she couldn’t think of anything she’d experienced that hurt worse than the way that her shoes were cutting off the circulation in her feet.
But she could do it. It was mind over matter—at least until she was able get away from the banquet and tear the nasty, tortuous heels from her feet.
She glanced up to see Ben staring at her speculatively, but he looked away as soon as their eyes met.
“What?” she asked, feeling uncomfortable with his overt perusal. Had he realized the direction her thoughts were going? Had her feelings shown on her face?
Ugh. How was she going to explain that?
Ben flashed a half smile and shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“But you do look especially pretty today, just so you know,” he continued, as if he hadn’t just the very moment before told her he didn’t have anything to say.
Especially?
Did that mean he thought she was at least sort of pretty all of the time? No one had ever called her pretty before, at least not anyone besides her father and mother, and on the odd occasion, her brothers, and now she was hearing it from virtually everyone around her.
It was not only groundbreaking—it was earth-shattering. Yet somehow Ben’s remark held more weight with her, more even than all the other compliments combined.
Which was utterly ridiculous, and she needed to stop that little ego-flattering train of thought right now, before it pulled out of the station.
She should know better than to be affected by transient smooth talk just because those types of words had never before been directed her way, especially by a man. Those sweet yet dubious words were coming from the mouth of a man who’d had an endless string of dates on his arm. He’d probably fed that very same line to half of the single women in Serendipity.
After all, he’d dated most of them at one time or another since he’d returned to town from serving in the National Guard. But no matter what she told herself, heat rose to her face nonetheless, and she knew her cheeks were stained a scorching red.
“Thank you,” she said after a long pause. She thought she ought to at least acknowledge the compliment, even if it came from the biggest player in town. “And look here—I didn’t even manage to get a single smudge of food on my dress,” she continued drolly.
It could have been a teasing remark. The circumstances were ripe for a little flirtation. But somehow she’d managed to make it sound catty.
“Sorry,” she apologized with a wince. She might have a million reasons to dislike and distrust Ben, but he hadn’t done anything on this particular afternoon to warrant her verbal abuse. He’d been very kind to her and had kept her company all day. He’d even been nice to Olivia. It was probably just for show, but it was a start, or at least it might be.
Ben’s smile was as genuine as his starlit bronze-green gaze. “Why are you sorry? In my opinion, you have every right to be defensive. Folks sure acted differently toward you today, didn’t they?”
“You think?” There was catty again. She might as well have hissed. Rrreer! Fffft!
She took a deep breath and tried again. “I’m surprised you noticed.”
She didn’t mention that Ben had acted just as differently as the rest of them. Maybe more so. Not so blatant or so noticeable, maybe, but different just the same. He’d certainly never gone out of his way to spend that much time with her before.
“It was hard not to see it,” he answered. “The guys from the fire station practically fell all over themselves trying to stand next to you in the serving line. And I don’t want to think about how the dolts from the police force were acting toward you.”
“And yet you won out.”
His eyebrows danced. “I’m bigger.”
Well, that was true.
“And I hope my motives were better,” he added.
This time it was her eyebrows that jumped. Ben Atwood with good intentions? Now that was a laugh.
“How so?”
“Oh, come on, Vee. You have to have realized that after your appearance today, you’re going to have dates lined up for the next year at least. You’ve been hiding yourself behind that firefighter’s uniform and nobody knew the truth about just how pretty you really are. Are you trying to tell me that not one single man in the room approached you to ask you out? Don’t bother because I won’t believe you.”
The heat roasting her face rose a few degrees higher. Was it getting hot in here or what?
Because the truth was, Ben was right. To her very great astonishment, a couple of local single men had asked for her phone number—not that she’d given it
to them. If they wanted to call her, her number was listed in the phone book, the same as it had always been. Besides...
“That wasn’t my intention at all,” she assured him, wondering why she suddenly felt the overpowering need to explain herself to a man she didn’t even like.
“Wasn’t it?” The bronze in his eyes sparkled, dancing with the green.
She tossed a wadded-up paper napkin at him. “No, it was not,” she stated, emphasizing each word. “I had something to prove to myself today. Not to anyone else. Especially not to a bunch of fickle men.” Today men had asked for her phone number. Tomorrow, when she was back in her usual clothes, they wouldn’t give her the time of day. Things would be back to the way they’d always been, with dull, boring Vee not turning anyone’s head.
“And did you?” he queried, tilting his head. “Prove something to yourself?”
“In some ways I suppose I did,” she admitted, chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip. “I clarified some things, anyway.”
“So you had fun?”
“Definitely. At least for part of the time. I really enjoyed serving the dinner—knowing that I was helping people in such a direct way. That was an incredible blessing, not only to them, but to me and our team. Still...”
“Still?” he echoed when she didn’t immediately finish her statement.
She paused and frowned pensively. “You know what bothers me most about today?”
He shook his head. “No. What?”
“What you said earlier—your observation about how folks reacted to me today. I don’t understand why people treated me differently just because I was wearing a dress. Something is off with that, don’t you think?”
If his stunned gaze was anything to go by, she would have to guess that her statement took Ben aback. She was surprised when he agreed with her.
“Yeah, Vee. I do.”
Dear Veronica Jayne,
Did you receive the introductory packet from the Sacred Heart Mission yet? I got mine in the mail yesterday. If you ask me, it looks pretty complicated. There are tons of forms to fill out, and we have to take a psychological assessment. Oh, and of course we have to have a complete physical workup with our primary care provider. I’m not worried about that part, though. I’m in pretty good shape—at least physically. The psychological part remains to be seen, ha ha.
I’m planning to start doing all the paperwork on my next day off. I want to send it in as soon as possible, especially because there’s a very short window between now and summer orientation. I know you are just as anxious as I am to get out onto the mission field, and I’ll be so happy to finally meet you in person if the Lord leads us to the same mission. What a great day that will be, huh?
I’ve been praying for you. I know you said you’re going through a rough patch right now. All I can say is that I’ve been corresponding with you long enough to know you’re a good person at heart.
Be brave. Step out of your comfort zone. Put yourself out there. But be gentle on yourself, too. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I don’t need to see your face to know what a special person you are. Even your thoughts are beautiful.
Yours,
BJ
Ben gritted his teeth as he strained to brace his palms against the weight bar and push his arms straight over his chest. He was bench-pressing two hundred pounds today, a good ten more than usual, pushing himself to the outside of his physical limits. He blinked the sting of sweat out of his eyes.
If only it was as easy to push his mind to such extremes so he wouldn’t have to think.
“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Ben’s paramedic partner asked with an amused, almost calculated smile on his face as he watched Ben’s struggles from his position as spotter.
“Two more reps,” Ben wheezed through his teeth as an alternative to answering the question his friend had not-so-innocently posed. His arms and chest burned with the effort of pushing the bar up twice more, but he was determined to succeed in his efforts, if only because Zach was watching.
Zach helped him return the bar to the rack. Groaning, Ben rolled to a sitting position on the bench.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ben denied, shaking his head and not quite meeting his friend’s gaze. He dabbed at his forehead with the white towel he’d draped around his neck.
“Benching two hundred pounds? That’s a bit much even for you, big guy. What if I hadn’t been there to spot you and your muscles had seized up on you?”
“But you were there, weren’t you?” Ben snapped, scowling at his friend.
Instead of offending him, it only made Zach chuckle all the more.
“Seriously, dude. You’ve got it bad.” Zach’s snicker turned into a full-blown laugh. “So tell me—who is the lucky lady?”
“I’m glad I amuse you,” Ben retorted. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He really, really didn’t want to get into this, especially with Zach, whom he considered one of his best friends. The guy wouldn’t stop razzing him for a month of Sundays if he learned the truth about what was really going on in Ben’s mind.
“Right. So, here’s the thing, bro,” Zach stated sagely. “The only possible reason for you to be pushing yourself so hard is so you don’t have time to think. And if you’re trying not to think, it must have something to do with a woman.” Zach nodded shrewdly. “Trust me. I’ve been there. I know from whence I speak.”
Ben snorted. Zach actually did have firsthand knowledge where women were concerned. He’d been the town bad boy from the time he was in school until he’d become a Christian years later. Now he was happily married to his high-school sweetheart, Delia, and was the father of two boys.
Unfortunately for Ben, Zach thought everyone should share in his happiness and find wedded bliss themselves. Like marriage was the answer to every problem. Ben scoffed. As far as he was concerned, anything to do with a woman was merely the beginning of all problems.
Vee Bishop being a case in point.
“Who is she? I want a name.” Zach smirked and raised a dark eyebrow over his equally dark eyes.
Ben grunted and moved to the inverted sit-up board, hooking his legs over the top beam for stabilization. Then he started performing a furious round of sit-ups, mentally counting as he went.
Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two.
Zach was still hovering, and Ben didn’t like the telltale gleam in his friend’s eye. Just because Zach happened to be enamored of the married state didn’t mean Ben had to be.
Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight. Fifty-nine.
“Now you’ve got me really curious,” Zach remarked blithely. “I don’t buy your original denial, by the way. You answered too fast, and you’re fighting too hard.”
Eighty-three. Eighty-four. Eighty-five.
Ben’s abdominal muscles were burning, but he didn’t let up the frantic pace of his movements.
Ninety-two. Ninety-three. Ninety-four.
“You know I can stand here all day, bud. I’ve got nothing else to do—unless there’s a fire somewhere, and you know as well as I do that’s not likely to happen.”
One hundred.
Ben swung his legs around and stood, facing down his friend with the biggest scowl he could muster. Could the man just please leave it alone? But no, Zach was still grinning at him with an I-won’t-quit attitude in his eyes.
“Not one woman. Two,” Ben growled under his breath but loud enough for Zach to hear him. He didn’t know if he was more exasperated with his situation or with Zach being such an utter nuisance.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you correctly,” Zach said, cupping his ear, although it was clear from the look on his face that he’d heard every word perfectly well. “Did you just say you’re having issues with two women?”
Ben grunted nonco
mmittally.
Zach snorted and shook his head. “Well, no wonder you’re doing enough sit-ups to kill a lesser man. Not the best idea, dude, trying to deal with two ladies at the same time. Women are pretty possessive creatures. It doesn’t pay to cross one, in my experience.”
“Tell me about it,” Ben groaned, stepping onto the treadmill and setting the controls for an easy jog. “Believe me, I learned my lesson back when I was going out with Olivia Tate. I made the mistake of taking another girl to dinner—just as friends, mind you—but I never heard the end of it. How did I know that the female population has such an extensive, unspoken list of dos and don’ts we men are supposed to conform to?
“I thought I’d gotten over the worst of my problems when I realized that after two or three dates, a girl would expect me to date her exclusively. Olivia and I had ‘the talk’ and everything about how we wouldn’t date other people. But I hadn’t realized that for Olivia, exclusive meant exclusive. Apparently I wasn’t even supposed to acknowledge female acquaintances without first clearing it with Olivia, her best friends, her mother and probably a whole host of other women. Man, did I ever get into trouble with that one.”
“Yeah, I remember,” Zach said, choking back another laugh. “Ouch. I think Olivia might still be a little sore about that one.”
Ben blew out a breath and grimaced. “Tell me about it. I think we’re finally reconciling enough to be friends, but for the longest time she wouldn’t even speak to me. She’d burst into tears if I so much as entered a room where she was.”
“Her not speaking to you was probably a good thing, if you ask me. Scorned females rank right up there with grizzly bears and poisonous snakes as the scariest things on the planet.” Zach brushed his black hair off his forehead with his palm and chuckled. “But you’re avoiding the real topic—your problem. Problems,” he corrected himself. “Two women.” Zach shook his head and snickered again. “Really, Ben.”
“There’s this woman...”
