Honorable Rancher

by Barbara White Daille

  Chapter Five

  Dana parked her van in front of the house and waited while the girls in the backseat gathered their belongings.

  “Don’t forget your overnight bag,” Lissa said to Nate.

  Dana glanced toward the garage and Ben’s dusty, dented ranch truck. Sighing, she shook her head. In the week since his shocking announcement, he’d nearly become a fixture in her home.

  No, that word didn’t fit. Fixtures stayed still and remained quiet and made life better for people, not worse. Nothing on that list of features came anywhere near to describing Ben’s impact on her life. He’d done nothing but upset her routines, her thoughts, her balance.

  In short, he’d upset her.

  “Hey, I know that truck,” Nate said. “Ben’s here?”

  “He’s here every day,” Lissa informed her in a tone Dana couldn’t quite read.

  “Cool.”

  Not so cool, in her opinion. Not when reality forced her to face the true reason for her upset.

  Every afternoon she longed for a reprieve from dealing with Ben. And with every arrival home she caught herself in the lie. Because the sight of his truck outside the garage never failed to excite her.

  Still, she stared at that dusty pickup truck in despair. What was wrong with her? She was a grown woman. A mother with small children. She had put behind her all the memories of...that incident with Ben.

  Yet she showed every sign of a schoolgirl with her first crush. Relief. Elation. The heart-pounding attack of nerves that came with knowing she would soon see “him” again.

  The girls tumbled out of the van, backpacks slung over their shoulders. Nate carried her overnight bag, too.

  Anne came out of the house holding Stacey. From the open doorway, P.J. took one look at the girls running in his direction and went back inside. As Lissa and Nate raced into the house, Dana started more slowly up the path.

  Anne met her halfway and handed Stacey to her. “All yours. I’ve got to get going.”

  After kissing the baby’s fair hair, she looked at her sitter in surprise. “I usually have to pry you away from the kids to send you home. Everything all right?”

  The teen’s cheeks turned bright red. “Got a date,” she mumbled. “With Billy. From Harley’s.”

  Dana smiled in understanding. Billy was a tall, blond forward on the high school basketball team. From what she’d seen on her trips to Harley’s General Store, where he worked after school, he was in demand. “Very nice, Anne. You’ll have all the girls in Flagman’s Folly envious tonight.”

  She giggled. “It’s our first date,” she confided. “We’re going to the early show.”

  “Well, have fun. Be careful. And I’ll see you on Monday.”

  “Okay.” Anne chucked Stacey under her chubby chin, grabbed her bag from the porch step and took off down the sidewalk.

  Watching her go, Dana cradled the baby against her and sighed. What she wouldn’t give to be that young and innocent again. That hopeful.

  Or would she?

  She’d had her own man-in-demand, and look where it had gotten her. Her infatuation with Paul had disappeared a long time ago. Along with her love for him.

  Stacey squirmed in her arms, and guilt flooded through her. Paul had given her three wonderful children. For that alone, she owed him more than she could ever have repaid.

  “You planning on staying out here all night?”

  She turned back to the house to find her new landlord standing in the doorway. He wore a pair of scuffed cowboy boots, threadbare jeans and...a smile.

  This was good old Ben? It had to be, but she needed to look him over one more time, just to make sure. Her gaze got hung up somewhere between his belt buckle and his chin, lingering on his flat belly, taut chest and tight nipples. That night with him, she’d touched every bit of that goodness.

  Her palms itched for the pleasure again.

  She forced her gaze upward, reaching his mouth. His smile had disappeared. His eyes looked wary, yet they suddenly glittered. He was recalling that night, too.

  She hadn’t realized she’d held her breath until she exhaled in a rush. The blast ruffled Stacey’s hair. Her daughter giggled. The sound broke whatever spell had transfixed Dana.

  No matter what had happened between them such a short time ago, he was still good old Ben. For heaven’s sake, she’d seen him in swim trunks every summer of her life. Well, at least until a few summers ago. He had seriously buffed up since then.

  Or else her memory was going.

  “Actually,” she said, finally getting to his question, “I would like to go inside, if you don’t mind.”

  “That can be arranged.” Stepping back into the house, he held the door open for her and Stacey.

  That was the trouble with Ben. He was always too willing to arrange anything he thought she wanted. Reluctantly, she climbed the steps and moved past him, trying not to inhale as the scent of his aftershave wafted toward her. Trying to ignore the sound of his footsteps as he followed her into the living room.

  She set Stacey onto her blanket on the floor. The baby immediately grabbed her favorite teething ring.

  “You’re home late,” Ben said.

  She turned to him and felt relieved to note he had put on the blue T-shirt she’d seen hanging on the stairway banister. “Realtors work all kinds of hours,” she told him. “I don’t punch a time clock.”

  “Anne must have forgotten that.” He dropped into her rocking chair. “I didn’t think she’d make it till you got home. She was about to wear a trench into the front walkway, with all her pacing up and down.”

  She straightened one edge of the baby’s blanket. “Anne was eager to go get ready for a date. I didn’t know that or I’d have tried to get home sooner. We stopped to pick up a guest. As you’ve probably figured out.”

  “Nate?”

  “Nate. She’s staying with us for the weekend.” She pushed the box of P.J.’s dinosaurs into the corner beside the couch. “They’ve got more friends coming later tonight and sleeping over till Sunday, too. Things will be hectic around here. Which reminds me...” She paused, trying to find the right words.

  He raised one brow as if in question.

  “I appreciate all you’ve done these past few days,” she said finally. Truthfully. Every improvement to the house and yard only made things better and safer for her children. But she’d have to speak carefully now, so as not to give herself away. “I understand you want to fix up your property. But can’t you do the repairs during the day, when I’m—” she grit her teeth and tried again “—when the kids aren’t here underfoot?”

  Now both brows shot up. “Not hardly. I’ve got a ranch to take care of, too.”

  It was that little word too that pushed her past the limit. “You are busy, aren’t you? First a ranch, then an office building, and now this house and a family, as well.”

  “Family?” He looked puzzled. “You mean, your kids?”

  “Yes, mine.” She sank to the couch and pulled the afghan over her lap in a vain attempt to protect herself from her own emotion. “Ben, I know you have only our best interests at heart, and I know you want to help. To keep your promise.” Her breath caught. She couldn’t think about that. “But it’s not necessary. Though I thank you for wanting to try,” she added hastily, seeing the look on his face.

  She didn’t want to hurt him. She just wanted him to leave her alone to do what she had to do. As if she’d spoken the thought aloud, he rose from the rocking chair. She bit her tongue, not wanting to give him any reason to change his mind.

  Finally, he nodded. “You’re right.”

  She had braced for a farewell argument. His response made her sag against the couch in surprise. And relief. Thank goodness, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about him underfoot
this weekend. As it was, she would have enough to do trying to keep P.J. happy in a houseful of females.

  “I am busy with the ranch,” Ben admitted. “That takes priority.”

  “Absolutely,” she agreed.

  “But not tomorrow. I’ll be back in the morning. Bright and early.”

  “Ben—”

  “Look. This has nothing to do with helping you. Do you want to see my deed for this place? It’s signed and sealed on the dotted line.”

  She winced, recognizing the words she’d said to him that afternoon in her office. The afternoon he’d bought her house. “All right.” She gave in—since she didn’t have a choice. “What time should I expect you?”

  “We start at sunup out on the ranch.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, then got up to spread the afghan over the back of the couch. When she’d taken enough time to make it clear she didn’t plan to respond to his ridiculous statement, he said goodbye and left.

  She plopped back onto the couch and looked at Stacey.

  Her daughter took the teething ring from her mouth and made a noise that sounded like “Pfffttth.”

  “My thoughts exactly, sweetie.”

  Resting her head back against the cushion, she closed her eyes and thought again of what she and Ben had done on this couch.

  The memory alone left her breathless. But other memories, much older and much sadder, made her chest tighten and her eyelids prickle with tears she refused to shed.

  Long ago, she’d made the mistake of falling for the wrong man. One who had eventually taken her love for him and turned it to his advantage. Who had tricked her into believing she needed him and couldn’t survive without him. He’d laid his trap and snared her. But she wouldn’t ever let herself get caught again.

  Not even by Ben Sawyer, a good man. The best man. A man who, in his own way, caused her more trouble and heartache than Paul had ever done.

  Ben was laying a trap for her, too. One baited with kindness and concern, with kisses that made her heart melt, and caresses that made her pulse pound, and words she yearned to believe.

  A trap more dangerous than the first one because she found it so tempting.

  * * *

  BEN HAD MENTIONED SUNUP only as a way of getting a rise out of Dana. When she didn’t jump down his throat, he’d felt oddly disappointed. Somehow, having her snap at him seemed a whole lot better than that long, silent look she’d given him. A look that said she thought he was out of his mind.

  While he didn’t actually intend to show up at the crack of dawn, he found himself ready long before nine o’clock the next morning, with everything that needed doing already done. He didn’t mind the work, because he loved this ranch. He enjoyed going through the routines his daddy and granddad had once taught him. Still, long years of practice meant he could finish up quickly.

  Now he paced the floor in the ranch house kitchen much the way Dana’s babysitter had paced in front of the house last night.

  Considering Anne had expected Dana home by then, he’d grown concerned about her absence, too. That old van of hers had broken down more than once in the past year or so. And she was so independent, so sure she could handle everything on her own. He’d be damned if he’d let her get away with that.

  He couldn’t.

  He couldn’t stay away from her, either.

  After grabbing his keys from the counter, he headed out to the hall. There, he paused only long enough to yank on his boots and pluck his Stetson from its hook on the coat stand.

  Eager to get to town, he made the short trip in record time.

  As he stood on Dana’s front porch and rang the bell, a sense of discomfort washed over him. Not from tension. Not from guilt. From something he couldn’t find a name for. Maybe he didn’t want to identify it. He’d already felt too many things this week since buying Dana’s rented house out from under her.

  But, whatever else he didn’t know, he felt certain of that decision.

  The front door opened. Paul Wright, Jr., stood on the doorstep staring up at him. He’d known P.J. since birth. Yet as often as he’d played catch and checkers and cards with the boy, he’d never seen him just the way he was right now—looking the spitting image of the five-year-old friend Ben remembered.

  The sight took him aback. The thought that came right on top of it took his concerns about his own actions away. How did Dana handle seeing her husband in P.J. every day?

  The boy gave a huge yawn and rubbed his eyes with his fists. “I didn’t sleep last night, Ben,” he announced, walking away.

  Ben shut the door behind them. “Why is that?” he asked, though he could have hazarded a fairly accurate guess.

  “Girls.”

  P.J.’s opinion of the fairer sex matched the way Ben felt about cattle rustlers. “It must be tough on you, being the only man in the house.”

  “Yeah. Not like when my daddy was here. But he went to the army, and now he’s not coming back anymore.”

  He sucked in a deep breath. He’d talked often enough with Dana’s kids about their daddy, but never about his death.

  He sure hadn’t given much thought to Paul, either, when he’d held Dana in his arms the night of the wedding. Maybe that explained the discomfort he’d felt while standing on the doorstep.

  “Yes, I know,” he said finally. “Your daddy won’t come back.” But, lately, he’d felt as though Paul had never left.

  P.J. climbed onto the couch, pushed aside a blanket covered with pictures of brightly colored dinosaurs and flopped back against a small mountain of pillows. Evidently, he had spent the night in the living room.

  “And now,” the boy said, yawning again and closing his eyes, “there are all these girls around here.”

  “Maybe they won’t stay long.”

  P.J. opened one eye briefly. “Ha. They’ll be here till tomorrow.”

  An awfully long time, from a little boy’s perspective. Not that short in Ben’s view, either. Last night, tomorrow had seemed very far away.

  So had Dana and her kids.

  He shook his head. He had to stop these kinds of thoughts. They’d bring him nothing but trouble. Maybe they already had.

  P.J. lay with his mouth open, snoring gently. Smiling, Ben leaned down and settled the blanket over him. Finished, he turned toward the kitchen. And found Dana standing in the doorway, watching him.

  He returned her scrutiny, taking in the pair of denim shorts that stopped way up on her long legs, her Flagman’s Folly High School T-shirt, and the hair she’d pulled into a ponytail.

  “While you’re at it,” she said, “don’t forget to check out the dark circles under my eyes.”

  “What dark circles?”

  “Ha—as P.J. would say.” She turned back toward the kitchen.

  He followed her through the room and out the door onto the back porch. “So you heard our conversation.”

  “Yes.” She leaned over to pluck something out of a laundry basket, and those shorts rose even higher on her legs.

  He felt like rubbing his eyes the way her son had. Glad for the reminder, he said, “What does P.J. know about Paul’s death?”

  “What you heard.” She shook out a small towel and hung it on the clothesline strung from the porch rail. “It’s enough for him now, at his age. I’m not sure he remembers a lot about his daddy. He wasn’t even four yet the last time Paul was home.”

  “And Lissa?”

  “Lissa knows more.” She jabbed at the line with a clothespin. “She remembers a lot more, too.”

  “She misses him?”

  “Of course she does.”

  The question seemed to surprise her. He’d bet the next one would leave her stunned. He asked it anyway. “What about you?”

  She froze. The bedsheet she
held up momentarily hid her face. Then she lowered the sheet and he saw her eyes again.

  Dark circles or none, it didn’t matter. She’d always had beautiful blue eyes.

  “Ben, we’ve been friends all our lives,” she said slowly. “But that’s not a question you should be asking me.”

  “Why not? I’m trying to get a handle on your thoughts, since you’re unwilling to come right out and tell me. You said it yourself, we’re friends. What’s wrong with acting like one?”

  “That’s just it,” she burst out. “It seems like you’re always acting with me. And then the night of the wedding, one minute we’re friends, and the next we’re—” She stopped short, her cheeks reddening. She clutched a damp towel against her. “Never mind. That night was just as much my fault as yours. But you—” Her voice broke. “I can’t understand you anymore. I don’t know what happened to the friend Paul and I grew up with.”

  He was the one left stunned now.

  She shook out the towel. “Look, it’s probably just me. It’s been a long night, and I got even less sleep than P.J. did. Let’s just forget what I said and agree to another truce, okay?” She gave him a crooked smile. “Don’t you have some work to do around here? I know I do.”

  “Mama?”

  At the unexpected voice, they both started. Lissa stood just inside the kitchen doorway. She wore pajamas and had her hair twisted into a handful of braids. Frowning, she looked from him to her mama.

  “Stacey just woke up.”

  “Thanks, sweetie,” Dana said. “I’ll get her right now.”

  “Okay.” Lissa stared at him for another moment, then left.

  So did Dana.

  Alone on the porch, he rested against the railing and looked out across her yard. She was right. He had been acting with her for a very long time. For the past year and more, as he tried to keep his promise to Paul. For nearly his whole life, while he hid his feelings for her. And now...

  How could he blame her for not knowing what he was trying to do? He’d lost the answer to that himself when he’d gotten roped and tied by his own guilt.