The Rancher's Redemption

by Melinda Curtis

  “But...it sounded like Ben—”

  “Don’t make this more than it is, Zoe.”

  Zoe flinched. “More than what it is? I thought it was only a court case.”

  Now it was Rachel who flinched. “He kissed me.” She omitted the number of times. “I mean, I kissed him. But it doesn’t matter.” Not to Ben anyway.

  “Have you learned nothing from my experience with the Blackwells?” Zoe’s question bordered on hysteria. Her blue eyes darted about the parking lot. “You’ll be tossed aside.”

  “I’ll be tossed aside.” As if Rachel hadn’t been already? “I’ll be tossed aside the way you tossed Ben aside.”

  Zoe gasped, and her petite features crumpled. “I’m just trying to protect you.”

  “I’m sorry.” Now she was sounding like Ben. “I didn’t see any of this coming.” Not the attraction, the kisses or the backstabbing.

  Well, the backstabbing was something she’d thought she’d avoid.

  “That’s why they say love is blind.” Zoe scurried ahead in her heeled sandals to open the truck door for Rachel so she could return Poppy to her car seat. Once the baby was strapped in, Zoe held out her hand, palm up. “Give me your phone.”

  “Why?” Rachel clutched the door handle, feeling as if one misstep, one tiny shove, and she’d fall over an emotional ledge, lose control and wail louder and longer than she had when the heifer had ruined her best court suit. One more misstep, and she’d be the woman she’d tried so hard not to be. The woman Ben Blackwell saw as an easy mark.

  “I need your phone, Rachel,” Zoe said again, leaning close to peer at her face. “Because I don’t have mine, and because a man like Ben Blackwell leaves disaster in his wake. We need to know what kind of man he is.”

  We.

  There was no we, as in Rachel and Zoe. Nor was there we, as in Rachel and Ben.

  “This isn’t like a divorce.” Rachel rubbed her chest, willing herself to think, to breathe, to be the lawyer that Ben would respect, even if she wasn’t the woman he loved. “Why did Big E leave you in Pennsylvania? Did you cheat on him?”

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “That’d be like cheating on the ingredients of your mother’s double Dutch chocolate cookies. It’s just not done when you love someone.”

  Her friend was right. “I’m sorry, honey.” Rachel hugged her. “You two had something special.” Whereas Rachel and Ben had only shared reminisces and random kisses.

  “We had something...” Zoe sniffed. “Maybe not something as special as I thought it was.” She took the first good look Rachel had seen her take at Poppy. “Big E said he wouldn’t give me kids. Or adopt a baby. Or...”

  Rachel hugged her once more. “We’ll figure this out.”

  “I’m the worst friend.” Zoe held Rachel at arm’s length. “I couldn’t bring myself to be happy for you.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I was so jealous.”

  “Of me and my divorce,” Rachel deadpanned.

  “Of you being a mother.” Zoe wiped away her tears, checking her reflection in the sideview mirror. “No one can take away mama status, but a marriage...”

  “I know,” Rachel said morosely. “I see relationships crumble all the time. Maybe this is for the best. You’ll find someone else, someone better—” and younger “—who’ll want lots of babies with you.”

  “Can we not talk about that right now?” Zoe’s expression threatened to crumple again. “Can I just...for once...take care of you? If only because it’ll keep my mind off how much my heart is breaking.” She gave Rachel a watery smile and then drew a deep breath. “We need to find out what kind of man Ben has become. Give me your phone.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Rachel handed it over. They got in the truck and drove toward Falcon Creek while Zoe searched online. She was silent for a long time, making Rachel’s nerves jangle.

  “I can’t stand it any more, Zoe. What did you find?”

  “Gold.” Zoe set the phone on the bench seat between them. “Ben was fired just a few weeks ago for an ethics violation. He’s a rat, just like his grandfather.”

  Rachel’s heart sank. Ethics violations weren’t filed lightly.

  Ben, what have you done?

  Needing to know, Rachel pulled over and snatched up her phone. Zoe’s search was still live. She scrolled through a press release, finding none of the answers she was looking for. “That’s all it says. His firm filed an ethics violation against him and let him go.”

  “It says enough.” Zoe turned her thumb down. “Ben got caught doing something inappropriate, something bad enough his employer fired him. What do you think it was? Embezzlement? Sexual harassment?”

  Rachel shook her head. Before Ben came back, she would have believed anything bad about him. But now...

  Zoe was bursting with enthusiasm. “You need to confront Ben about his misconduct and use it to your advantage.”

  “I’m not that kind of lawyer.”

  Zoe leaned across the seat toward Rachel until she had to meet her gaze. “You need to be that kind of lawyer if you want to beat Ben at his own game.”

  Rachel felt ill. But she also felt Zoe was right.

  * * *

  Let’s meet at four at the Shiny Spur for coffee.

  Ben’s text message was so casual. Was there something in there Rachel should be interpreting differently?

  She dropped Zoe at the house and took Poppy to the grocery store. She had twenty minutes to buy children’s cough medicine and chicken broth because Poppy’s congestion always seemed to go straight for her lungs and steal her appetite.

  Poppy had passed fussy somewhere between waking up when Zoe got out of the truck and being taken to the Sack and Save. She was so tired and congested, she was angry. Rachel should have stayed home this afternoon to let her rest.

  Then I wouldn’t have learned about those title searches.

  It was closing in on four o’clock—time for Rachel to meet Ben. She should have changed out of work clothes and put on her mommy combat gear—armor that protected the body from a child’s tantrum with flailing legs and arms. A shield for her heart, too, which was bruised from being Poppy’s target and potentially Ben’s.

  The balls of her feet hurt in her heels as she pushed a shopping cart around the Sack and Save, trying to remember if the cold medicine was across from the cereal or the paper goods. She was about to enter the cereal aisle when she noticed Ben standing in the middle of it, holding a blue basket. She backed up, right into Zeldeen Whitecloud’s cart.

  Poppy began to cry, big hearty sobs that probably carried to the front of the store.

  “Watch it,” Zeldeen said sharply, frowning so deeply her white brows connected. She’d taught science at the high school, a subject Rachel had struggled to pass, which hadn’t endeared her to the woman. “Rachel, do be careful. I’ve got eggs in here.” As if a cart fender bender would break any eggshells.

  Try protecting a heart from breaking.

  Rachel muttered an apology, making direct eye contact with Zeldeen as she did so. Which meant she took her eyes off her daughter, who lunged for a display of Cap’n Crunch boxes and swiped them to the ground. The avalanche silenced the grocery store.

  And then a sound arose, like an emergency vehicle’s siren. Poppy’s war cry.

  “It’ll be okay, baby.” Rachel’s cheeks heated. She bent and scurried around her cart to pick up boxes.

  “What happened?” Ben’s voice. So compassionate. Was he a good actor? He had been when he’d baited Darnell into lunging for him in court.

  “Rachel?” He moved closer.

  Rachel grimaced and held out a hand to keep him away. “It was an accident.” Just like those kisses.

  “You shouldn’t leave a child in a cart unattended,” Zeldeen said, wheeling hers past Rachel.

  She was right. Rachel stood and held
on to Poppy’s jumper at the back, which only made her daughter madder. And louder.

  Rachel stood at the side of the cart. Ben stood near the front. Neither one moved. Surrounded by cereal boxes, they just stared at Poppy as other shoppers hurried past. What a pair they made, looking like the statues in front of the courthouse of Lewis and Clark studying a map between them.

  Ben cleared his throat. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes,” Rachel said, when what she wanted to say was, What were you doing researching the title to my land? She tried to extricate Poppy from the cart, but her daughter kicked her sturdy legs angrily. Rachel had to raise her voice to be heard. “She’s tired and battling a cold.”

  He moved around the cart, picking his way through boxes. He was probably going to leave her here to deal with Poppy by herself. She probably wouldn’t see him until they were due in court on Friday. And then he’d take her water—and maybe her land—and she and her heart would be shattered.

  The thought nearly gutted her.

  But she couldn’t fall apart. Not now. Not in the middle of the Sack and Save. “Poppy. Come on, baby. Shhh.” She stroked her darling’s hair, only to have her hand swatted away. On any other day, Rachel wouldn’t have taken it personally. But today...on top of whatever Ben was cooking up...

  “Hey, now.” Ben put his basket in Rachel’s cart and removed Poppy from her seat as easily as if he’d done so a thousand times. “There’s no need to cry.”

  Poppy drew a shuddering breath and stared at Ben. “Ba-ba.” She dropped her head on his shoulder, still crying but not nearly as loud.

  Rachel wanted to cry, too. Her feet hurt. The band of her control-top pantyhose was cutting into her waist. Some time during the day she’d gotten baby snot on her blouse. And now there was an ache in her chest when she looked at Ben holding her daughter.

  “I bet you want something like this, Poppy.” Ben plucked a pacifier from a nearby rack, tore open the plastic, popped it in and out of his mouth and then offered it to Poppy.

  Who took it with a small sob and quieted.

  Rachel’s fingers curled around the handle of the cart. “I made a conscious decision not to use a pacifier.” And like everything else in her life, that decision was now a moot point.

  “She likes it,” Ben said simply, as if the argument should sway her.

  A teenage store clerk appeared, frowning at the mess and at Rachel.

  She knelt and gathered boxes, stacking them on the endcap as quickly as she could. The teenager mumbled something about her not having to help, but Rachel had to do something.

  Once she’d finished stacking, Rachel tugged her blouse back to rights and stared at her darling traitorous daughter.

  Poppy’s eyes were closed. Occasionally, her lips worked the pacifier and she chugged in a snotty breath.

  “You don’t have to look at me as if I’m dressed in red tights and have been treed by Ferdinand.” Ben spoke softly, rubbing Poppy’s back. “I’m not your enemy.”

  “Aren’t you?” Rachel murmured. She could use a back rub. Or a foot rub. Or a plain old hug with whispered reassurances that she hadn’t put her trust in the wrong man.

  Ben studied her expression the way she imagined he studied legal precedent, committing it to memory for later use and analysis. “You look like you could use something to eat and a coffee.” He hooked the fingers of his free hand into the shopping cart and tugged it toward the front of the store. “Just don’t ask me to change diapers unless you want to give me a crash course. I seem to recall putting Chance’s diapers on backward.”

  Rachel bit back the urge to ask Ben what he’d been searching for at the county recorder’s office, tamped down the curiosity about him being fired and followed his conversational lead. “With only two years difference between you, I bet you didn’t change your little brothers’ diapers often.” She followed behind Ben, wrapping her arms around her waist instead of taking control of her cart, her case, her heart.

  “Well, I wasn’t supposed to,” Ben allowed. He wore a dark suit. He looked tall and imposing. Handsome. Worldly. Reliable.

  Love tried to blossom in her chest. It tried to squelch the doubts she had about his intentions.

  No-no-no-no-no.

  Her gaze fell from his shoulders to his groceries. “Why is there nothing in your basket but fruit?”

  “Fruit is a healthy snack.” Ben glanced back at her cart contents. “Why is there nothing in your cart but baby food?”

  “I spend every evening at the Double T, helping run the ranch. Mom makes me dinner.” She spotted infant cold medicine and grabbed a small package.

  “I’m envious.” He turned back toward the checkout stands, now within sight. “Can we take Poppy to the coffee shop?” He let a bit of Western twang color his words. “I’m hankering for one of Edda Mae’s pot pies.”

  Edda Mae owned the Shiny Spur Diner downtown. As teenagers, they’d spent many afternoons there before going home, doing homework, downing milkshakes and sucking salt off french fries.

  Oh, for the days when Rachel didn’t have to watch every morsel she put in her mouth.

  “I haven’t had a pot pie in forever,” she lamented, smoothing her stained and wrinkled blouse over her mommy hips.

  “How about I buy you a pot pie for old times’ sake?” Ben’s gaze was warm, encouraging her to trust him.

  Rachel the lawyer experienced a twinge of unease, even as Rachel the single mom cheered silently. She cleared her throat. “What are you up to?” Would that he’d tell her.

  “I’m up for sustenance.” His smile attempted to reassure. “Nothing but the truth, counselor.”

  How she wanted to believe him.

  He continued, “We can go to the diner and you can tell me how you’re not going to budge on water rights, while I keep this little one quiet and you get a chance to enjoy a decent meal away from the homestead. It’ll give Zoe a little time to settle in on her own and us a little time to talk about...things.”

  Things.

  Feelings, the dreamer in Rachel whispered.

  Legal moves, the cynic in Rachel hissed.

  Rachel didn’t want to hear about either one. “I shouldn’t,” she hedged, like the little lady she was. “There are a gazillion things to do out at the ranch. Let’s stick to the plan of coffee.”

  “There will be a gazillion things to do tomorrow.” Ben’s voice dropped. He held her baby more tenderly than Ted ever had. “Let me do this for you, Thompson.”

  Her heart clenched.

  When was the last time she’d had a meal with anyone other than her family? Apart from Ben saying he’d fix the gate, when was the last time anyone offered to do something for her? Rachel couldn’t remember.

  “Come on. Live a little.”

  Still, Rachel hesitated.

  Ben didn’t wait for her answer. He told the clerk at the register to unload Rachel’s cart and that he’d pay for everything, the ruined cereal, too.

  I’ll ask him about the title search at the coffee shop.

  And then he’ll break my heart.

  Rachel straightened her spine. If he did turn out to be a disappointment, she had no one to blame but herself.

  And only herself to pick up the pieces.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “WHAT DID YOU do today?” Ben asked casually. “Were you with Zoe?”

  He didn’t feel an iota of guilt about kissing Rachel several times over the previous few days, but he wasn’t sure she felt the same. She’d been strung out when he’d bumped into her at the grocery store, and she’d looked at him the way she had the first day he’d come back—as if she didn’t trust him.

  He wanted her to look at him the way she had last night—as if she’d never let him go.

  Even as he acknowledged he had deep feelings for Rachel, Ben had no idea what to do a
bout them. His life was in New York. Her life was here.

  They sat in a booth in the back of the diner. Ben had requested some privacy, saying the baby might get loud and fussy. The waitress had been more than happy to show them to a table far away from other customers.

  The power nap had restored Poppy’s good nature. With Ben’s hands supporting her waist, she stood on his thighs. She leaned on the table for additional support, bouncing up and down almost in time to the music playing on the radio in the kitchen. She gummed on cracker bits and barely protested when he swiped at her runny nose with a paper napkin.

  “I was,” Rachel confirmed briskly. “Zoe’s trying to decide what she wants to do about Big E’s divorce request.”

  “Does she have a choice?” At Rachel’s scowl, Ben added quickly, “A divorce filed in Nevada is pretty much a done deal. And just to be clear, it was a deal done by my grandfather. I had nothing to do with it.” He had to make sure Rachel understood where he was coming from. He was going to tell her everything.

  Her scowl became more of a semi-frown. “Big E blindsided her. She loves him.” Her gaze dropped from his face to Poppy’s and her voice softened. “Whether she has a choice or not, it makes no difference. Big E’s treatment of Zoe is sad and demeaning. She didn’t deserve to be thrown out like the trash.”

  Ben refused to enter that discussion.

  Poppy banged a spoon on the table.

  “Poppy, no.” Rachel reached for her daughter. The collar of her black blouse was wrinkled and stained, almost as if little Poppy had clenched the fabric in her fist and then wiped her nose on it.

  Ben liked that Rachel didn’t appear self-conscious about the state of her work clothes.

  “No.” Poppy was having none of it. She thrust her nose in the air just as her mama did when she was upset.

  Her attitude made Ben smile.

  “Please don’t let Poppy do that,” Rachel chastised, tucking her blond hair behind her ears. “She’ll get bad manners.”

  Rachel’s warning made Ben remember his assistant training him in the art of caring for babies.