by Dawn Kinzer
***
Ben couldn’t stand the thought of another man touching Hope, for any reason or in any way. He’d raced over there as soon as he witnessed the distressed expression on Hope’s face. As much as he wanted to clamp his fingers around the man’s throat, Ben kept his hands close to his side. He couldn’t lose control. Not now. Not ever again.
“You’re telling me what I can and can’t do? Who are you, Farmer?” Shelton sneered. “You think you have a chance with her? She’ll never be happy in this backward town.” He faced Hope. “You know I’m telling the truth, Hope.”
“Please go back to New York, Henry.” Hope was flushed, and she sounded humiliated.
Ben clenched his fists, but he didn’t raise them. “Leave or the town marshal will have to get involved.”
“I’ve had enough of your interference.” As soon as the words came out of Shelton’s mouth, he hit Ben with a left jab that caused his teeth to bite his tongue, and then with a quick torque at the waist, Shelton followed that strike with a strong right punch.
At impact, the air whooshed from Ben’s lungs. He doubled over and stumbled back.
“No one tells me what to do.” Shelton, sounding like an arrogant scoundrel, almost growled his words. What had Hope seen in him? “Certainly not some uneducated farmer who shovels manure for a living and smells like it too.”
The anger simmering in Ben’s gut boiled into rage. With his head still down, he rammed Shelton, surprising him and knocking him to the ground.
“You got him, Ben!” Jake shuffled sideways around the two brawlers.
“Keep Henry down.” Annie yelled as she ran by them. “I’m getting the marshal.”
“I can’t just stand here! I need to do something.” Hope sounded desperate.
“No, you don’t,” Jake said in a commanding voice. “Ben’s gotta do this on his own.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Ben glimpsed the bottom of Hope’s skirt as Jake pulled her away from the scuffle. Didn’t she think he could handle Shelton?
Several men gathered.
“Enough of this!” The reverend tried to grab hold of Shelton and drag him off Ben, but the two were entangled.
Shelton’s knee digging into Ben’s groin sent pain shooting through his body. With fury in his gut, he rolled Shelton onto his back. Ben moved to sit on him and gain control, but as he lifted his leg over the other man’s chest, Shelton raised his left shoulder from the ground and swung. Pain exploded near Ben’s right temple.
Ben’s fist returned a blow to Shelton’s left jaw—his other fist followed with a hit to the right jaw. Ben raised his arm to go at it again, but Shelton’s eyes closed, and he let out a low groan. Ben froze.
“I’ll take it from here.” A burly man wearing a badge and a revolver stepped forward, and extending a hand, helped Ben up.
“You’re welcome to him, Marshal.” Ben swiped at the blood trickling from a cut on the side of his head.
The lawman grabbed Shelton and forced him to stand. “I should lock you both up. One in the cell, and one in the town’s ice house. Give you time to cool down. But I’m going to let you go with a warning.” He narrowed his eyes and pointed to Henry. “And you—Annie gave me a brief rundown. We don’t take kindly to the likes of people like you, and we also protect our own. I’m strongly suggesting you leave town by tomorrow morning. If you’re still here at noon, I’ll ask Miss Andrews here to give me a full report and press charges for assaulting her.”
“She’d never do that to me.” Shelton tucked in his loose shirt. Somehow his smugness remained.
Hope stepped forward. “Yes, I would.”
Shelton picked up his hat, then focused on Hope. “I’ll be at the hotel if you change your mind and want to talk.”
“Good-bye, Henry.”
Shelton glanced around the remaining group, shoved his hat on his head, and stalked off.
The marshal waved back the men who had circled to observe the fight. The women had stayed near the church with the children. “Get on home, everyone. Nothing more to see.”
Reverend Caswell also encouraged his parishioners to leave the area.
Hope turned to Ben with sad eyes. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s just a little cut.”
“I’m not so sure.” She lightly touched the wound. “You might want the doc to have a look.”
“Well, you sure gave Mr. Henry Shelton a walloping.” Jake patted Ben’s back. “Good job, brother!”
“No help from you.”
Jake grinned. “You didn’t need any. You came to the rescue and taught that no-good—you taught him he couldn’t come around here and make trouble.” His smile faded. “What’s the matter?”
“You need to ask?” Ben rubbed the battered knuckles on his right hand. He’d done it again—allowed rage to draw him into a physical battle.
Hope grasped his hand, her eyes locking onto his. “Ben, this wasn’t the same situation as when you brawled with Percy. Henry threw the first punch, and you were just defending yourself—defending me. No one got badly hurt. You may believe fighting is always wrong, but sometimes it can’t be helped when doing the right thing.”
Words of wisdom, but would he ever be able to accept them?
chapteR TWENTY-FOUR
Ben sat still while Hope dabbed the damp cloth on his wound and wiped blood from his head. He was tempted to bat her hand away, but gritted his teeth and bore the pain like a big boy. He didn’t say a word while she administered the bandage.
Should he be glad Annie and Jake were hiding out in the kitchen, making something for them to eat? Ben had a long list of questions for Hope, but what if he didn’t like the answers?
He silently inhaled Hope’s sweet, yet light and fresh scent. He liked it. Not like that horrible stuff some women wore—heavy and sickening—the kind that lingered like smelly cigar smoke in an enclosed room.
Why didn’t she say something? She’d tended to his wounds, and now she stood there, silent, packing up the medical supplies. The quiet made him crazy. The only sounds were his breathing, Jake and Annie clanking in the other room, and the rustle of her putting things away.
Hope placed the extra bandages in the box and closed the lid. She took his hand. “Would you sit with me outside on the porch swing? I think the fresh air will help...”
“Help?”
“I have a lot to explain, Ben, and it’s not going to be easy.”
He nodded, then followed her outside. Ben sat on the far side of the swing, not knowing what was acceptable at this point. Whether they had problems between them or not, he shouldn’t be alone with her when all he wanted to do was take her in his arms.
***
They rocked slowly, the chain creaking. Embarrassed by Henry’s behavior in the churchyard, the thought of being entirely truthful put her nerves on edge, but the encounter had forced her into this position. The time had come for Hope to share a painful part of her life with Ben.
As her feelings for Ben had grown, so had her desire for him to respect her. His opinion mattered. But what would he think of her now? Her lack of judgment and inability to see through Henry’s facade? Hope still harbored shame for remaining in a relationship with the cruel and deceitful man and not putting an end to the relationship sooner. She’d kept holding on to the possibility that Henry would become the same man in private that he displayed in public, but after he physically lashed out in anger and hurt her, Hope realized that waiting for him to change could put her in danger.
Hope folded her hands, then unfolded them and smoothed her skirt. Where to start? Maybe if she began, words would flow like a river through an opened dam.
“I met Henry at a party given by a family friend. He wasn’t like the man you witnessed today—angry, arrogant. Quite the opposite, he was charming and attentive. Henry is a lawyer, and although he works for one of the most prestigious firms in New York, he talked about using his position to help those in need. I believed he was sincere.” Hope clasped her hands in her lap
, and dug her fingernails into her palm. “I only tell you these things because I don’t want you to think I’m a woman who falls for a man for shallow reasons.”
Ben shifted his position, and laying his arm along the back of the swing, he faced her. “I would never believe that of you.” His tone sounded convincing.
“Thank you.” She tried to smile. Would he still feel that way after he heard the entire story? “Several months after we met, he asked if he could court me, and seven months later, we became engaged. My family and friends were ecstatic that I was going to marry someone who was educated, well-traveled, and moving up in the social world. I had a wonderful life.” Or had she merely experienced an illusion of happiness because her friends were so envious of the attention Henry had showered on her? “But when we started talking about what our lives would be like once married, it was clear that Henry believed strongly in wives supporting their husband’s goals while giving up their own.”
“He wanted you to give up designing?”
Hope fingered the chain suspending her side of the swing. “He said I would have to stop all that ‘nonsense.’” Hope could still hear his commanding voice—his hurtful words. “He would give me permission to paint pictures of fruit and flowers to pass my time, but he absolutely forbade me to pursue anything he considered a job. During one of his rages, he literally tore up a design I’d worked on for weeks, intending to submit it to Butterick.”
“Don’t most people believe that married women should give up any employment?” Ben’s voice had dropped to a whisper.
Had she misjudged again? Was Ben just like Henry? “When most women get married, they do focus only on being wives and mothers. But it’s not true that all give up their careers. I want to be a good wife, I do. And I’d love to have children someday, but I can’t pretend that my passion for creating something beautiful out of nothing doesn’t exist.” Hope turned and gazed into Ben’s eyes. “Nor can I believe that God would give me this desire in my heart if he didn’t mean for me to do something with it.”
Ben nodded. “I understand that struggle.”
Of course he did. Her heart softened once more toward him. He was a gem. The contrast of Henry’s selfishness and Ben’s empathy had taught her that. “Fortunately, my parents did too. They’d never approve of me marrying a man who couldn’t honor a God-given talent, and they gave their blessing to break the engagement, which I did three months before coming to Riverton.”
“And Shelton was hurt.”
“I think he was more angry and humiliated than hurt. Henry grabbed my arm so hard, his fingers left bruises.”
“Any man who could do that to a woman, especially someone he claims to love, doesn’t deserve a wife.” Ben’s voice held compassion, but his eyes conveyed anger.
“I thought the same.” Hope took comfort in Ben’s protective words, and a large sigh escaped her lips. “Henry continued to pursue me, but when gifts and flattery failed, more of his true character was revealed.” Her pulse quickened at the memory. “One night he arrived at our home and asked to see me privately. My parents were out for the evening, but he was so upset about a court case he’d lost, I agreed to let him in. I prayed I could calm him down with a cup of tea and a listening ear, then send him on his way.
“I should never have allowed him to step foot inside. But I was still feeling guilty about breaking the engagement and not thinking clearly, and since I’d been following the case involving a child’s death for months, I wanted to find out what happened.
“We went into the parlor, and I dismissed the servants so they wouldn’t hear. But instead of talking about his disappointment over the case, he begged me to take back the engagement ring and marry him. When I refused, he struck me hard across the face. Ashamed by his behavior, he ran out the door.
“By the time my parents returned, my face was swollen and bruised. I never reported the incident to the police because Henry is a prominent lawyer, and there were no witnesses.”
Ben’s jaw stiffened.
“My parents were livid. Henry returned the next day, apologized profusely in their presence, and promised to never touch me again.” Hope’s face burned now as the memory of that horrible night played out in her mind. “My father threatened him and told him to stay away. But like a shadow I couldn’t leave behind, he continued to follow me.” Her palms were sweating. Hope had wanted to believe he’d never be violent again, but after what she’d experienced in the churchyard, she couldn’t depend on any promises Henry made.
Ben fisted his hand in his lap, as if he could protect her from the past. “He was trying to intimidate you.”
“Not knowing if I’d see him every time I turned a corner made it difficult to live a normal life. So, when my parents decided to travel to Panama, they insisted I move here to live with Annie for a while.”
“What you’ve gone through...” Ben released a sigh, then rubbed his eyes. “The words I’d use to describe Henry Shelton shouldn’t be said in front of a woman. I wouldn’t blame you if you stopped trusting men altogether.” His sympathetic gaze found hers. “You living in Riverton makes even more sense now.”
“I gave up so much because of Henry. My friends, my home, and maybe even a real chance at becoming a designer. Last year, Butterick built their fifteen-story headquarters in New York. Did you know it’s now one of the largest magazine publishing companies in the country? Can you imagine all the activities inside that building? Besides putting out The Delineator, everything from seamstresses making sample garments to workers printing and shipping sewing pattern envelopes.
“I walked by there every chance I got, stared up at that tall building, and thought about walking through its doors someday. That may never happen now.” The reality of those losses broke her composure for a moment.
“I’m sorry, Hope.” Ben handed her a large red handkerchief. Not very feminine, but clean.
“Thank you.” She wiped her cheek and tried to smile. “The truth is that I’ve found many blessings in Riverton. Annie and I have grown closer, and I’ve made new friends here with Reverend Caswell and Sarah, Thomas and Ellie, Jake, you...And I’ve got the job at the store and time to sketch. There are many reasons to be thankful.”
“Glad you can see it that way.”
“I choose to see it that way. I can’t wallow in regrets or what could have been. I have to move forward with my life and look for the good around me.” She’d just poured out her heart to him, shared her darkest secret, and he seemed empathetic to the situation, but how did he feel about her now?
Hope closed her eyes to gather her courage. “Now that you know the truth—that I don’t want anything to do with Henry—is there any chance for you and me?” She opened her eyes and peered into his, yearning to see warm acceptance, even love.
“I see...” Hope couldn’t bear to look any longer. Eyes that were once filled with laughter, teasing, and friendship were now filled with nothing more than compassion for someone who had been wounded. She could have been a cow with a broken leg and received the same response.
A Monarch butterfly lit on a yellow mum growing in a container on the porch. Its wings fanned back and forth before it took flight again. Soon it would migrate to a warmer climate. Right now she wished she was small enough to climb onboard and escape Ben’s pity.
He cleared his throat. “It’s not that I don’t care for you, Hope.” He shifted on the swing. “Maybe because we hadn’t made a commitment to each other, you felt you didn’t owe me any explanations about Shelton and your past relationship. But finding out about him only because he showed up in town makes me wonder if you might be keeping other secrets.”
“I’ve told you everything, Ben. There’s nothing more to tell.” Hope longed to search his eyes, yet feared what she’d discover.
“Maybe so, but after all that’s happened since you’re arrived in Riverton, I’m not sure I can rely on you to be honest with me.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Hope. I won’t be with anyone I c
an’t completely trust.”
***
Ben’s stomach growled. It was his own fault he was hungry, but he couldn’t sit across from Hope and share a Sunday dinner after seeing the pain in her eyes. He’d hurt her deeply, that he was sure of, and there might not be a way to fix that...at least not any time soon.
How long had he been sitting there alone in the church? Ben laid his sketch pad on the bench. Painting always soothed his soul, and he could have sequestered himself in his shed for several hours, but he’d felt drawn back to the peaceful sanctuary. He pulled out his pocket watch and flipped the cover open. Three twenty. He told Jake he’d pick him up by four so they could get back to the farm for milking. The cows couldn’t wait.
He was no softy, but wooden benches sure felt harder by the minute. Ben slid his body over and lay down with his hands behind his head. A perfect view of the stained-glass window depicting the crucifixion hung before him.
A door slammed in the back, and he raised his head to see who had come inside.
“Ben, what are you doing in here?” Reverend Caswell strode down the aisle toward him. “You all right?”
He bolted upright. “Yes, Reverend. I’m fine. Just came in to sit a spell. Think. Pray.”
“Sounds like good reasons.” The reverend leaned against the pew on the opposite side of the aisle. “Parishioners like to call me Reverend out of respect, but I prefer my friends just call me Peter when we’re not in formal settings.”
“I’ll try. And thanks. For thinking of me as a friend.”
“Sarah left one of the baby’s things here this morning, so I told her I’d fetch it. Good excuse to get some fresh air.” Peter relaxed his arms across his chest. “I’ve got some time to sit if there’s anything you want to talk about. Anything you say will be kept between us, if that’s the way you want it.”
Maybe this is what Ben needed. He’d sat there praying for answers for several hours. Maybe God sent Peter there for this very purpose. “Actually, I could use someone to talk to. Jake is a pretty good listener when he tries hard enough, but as brothers go, he’s biased when it comes to me.”
