Honorable Rancher
Page 19
“Yes.”
“You said...” He wasn’t a good husband.
Hell, he couldn’t ask her about that, though he wanted to know. What happened between husband and wife had to stay there. But she’d told him something else, too. “You said he wasn’t a good provider.”
“No.” She smoothed the afghan resting on the arm of the couch. “You know after he came back, he took the job at the dealership. Mostly because he liked the idea of being the superstar car salesman. And he did make some sales over the years. But with the economy so bad, he didn’t make many.”
He clenched his free hand into a fist. “Geez, Dana. He could’ve borrowed from me—”
“No, he couldn’t. Because then people would know. They’d see the real Paul behind the image.”
“I wouldn’t have told anyone.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” She sounded sad. “You’d have covered for him. The way you always did. And he knew that.”
“Then why didn’t he come to me?”
“Because I told him if he asked you for money, I would spread the news to everyone in Flagman’s Folly.”
“You—” He choked on the word. “Why?”
“Because he would have been using you, the way he’d always done. And I couldn’t stand to see it happen again.” Her fingers dug into the afghan. “Ben, he gambled away the commissions he made from the dealership.”
He shook his head. “I would’ve known—”
“No, you couldn’t have. He didn’t do it here, just for that reason. Folks would know. He lost most of it in out-of-town casinos, and the rest he spent buying things online. Status symbols, to show off his wealth—what little he had left.”
The longer she talked the faster the words came. He didn’t want to hear any more. But he had to listen.
“When that ran out, he turned to me. The economy hadn’t done much for real estate, either. Still, he took every penny he could get—every penny I could squeeze from my business without going under.” She exhaled a shaky breath and met his eyes. Hers were filled with a pain he had no trouble reading. “He took food from the kids’ mouths. But he didn’t care, because no one would know.”
“Damn,” he muttered. “I didn’t know. I—”
“Don’t,” she said. “It’s the image he wanted you to see. We all have those. Just as we have things we want to hide.”
Her words cut him with their toneless accusation, a reminder of the secret he’d kept from her. Of the promise he’d made.
He set his mug on the coffee table and rose from the couch. He had come back here again looking for answers. But he’d never expected to hear all this.
It mocked everything he had known about Paul. Everything he’d done for him.
Everything he hadn’t done for himself.
All this time, he had stayed away from Dana, believing he couldn’t touch her. Believing he owed Paul that loyalty.
Now, getting hit with all this...
He shook his head. “I can’t believe it. The man died a hero, Dana.”
Eyes gleaming, she looked away.
Chapter Seventeen
Dana spent the weekend with the kids...and without Ben. Fortunately they had the puppy to keep them all occupied. Yet even Duchess couldn’t hold P.J.’s attention full-time.
On Sunday afternoon, as she sat on the couch folding clothes, he’d climbed up to sit beside her.
“Where’s Ben, Mama?” he asked. “He doesn’t like us anymore?”
She’d expected something like that. Hadn’t she known having Ben around the house so often wasn’t the best thing for the kids? She had to swallow hard before she could respond. “I’m sure he’s busy working on his ranch today.”
“I miss him.”
“I know you do,” she’d said. So do I.
On Monday, with things so quiet, she suggested Tess take the day off for more honeymoon time, to run errands, for whatever she liked. And when Tess took her up on the offer, she sagged in guilty relief.
She welcomed the chance to spend the time alone in the office. But by late afternoon, the quiet had gotten to her. The walls had begun to close in. She’d had too much time to think.
She left work early for a quick trip to Harley’s on her way home. And even there, standing at the head of the pet-products aisle, she found her thoughts straying to Ben.
He’d looked shell-shocked by everything she had said. It destroyed her to know how much she’d hurt him. But she couldn’t keep the truth hidden any longer. Not from him.
That second time, he had left the house quietly. No slamming the door behind him. No puppy bounding in from the kitchen to investigate. That time, she had felt so much worse. Because his careful closing of the door made his departure final.
Yet it also made it more like Ben. That was his way. Not to make waves, not to cause trouble, just to be there, steady, reliable, safe. Always.
Though not for her, from now on.
“Excuse me,” an unmistakable—and unmistakably teasing—voice said from behind her. Tess pushed her cart beside Dana’s. Eyebrows raised, she pointed toward the aisle. “Don’t you need to go down there?”
Tess’s question didn’t surprise her. “I hate to tell you this,” Dana said, “but your expression of wide-eyed innocence stopped working in the third grade. And no, I don’t need dog food. The puppy came with a good supply. As you probably knew before I did.”
“Okay, I confess. You never mentioned her at the Double S the other night, but Mom and Aunt El did happen to share the news.”
“Of course.” Dana forced herself to laugh along with Tess.
“That’s just like Ben.”
She winced. “Mmm-hmm.” Hoping Tess hadn’t seen her reaction or the sudden moisture in her eyes, she hurried to push her cart toward the checkout counter. “Hi, Billy.”
The clerk looked from her to Tess and back again. “What are you doing here? I saw Anne on her way to pick up P.J. and Stacey. She said you had the council meeting today.”
“Later tonight,” she said. After she’d paid for her groceries, she stepped aside to wait for Tess.
She wanted to run out of the store immediately. To pass on attending the meeting altogether. To avoid seeing Ben. But of course she couldn’t let Kayla down. Besides, where would she go? Everyone in Flagman’s Folly knew she should be at Town Hall tonight. And unless she invented an excuse, she couldn’t even hide out at home. She’d arranged for Anne to stay with the kids.
“Ready?” Tess asked her.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said grimly.
Tess frowned, and Dana pushed her cart through the automatic doors. In the parking lot, they stopped behind Tess’s SUV.
“Anyway,” Tess said as she unloaded her groceries from the cart, “back to what I was saying inside. That was nice of Ben to take care of the dog food. And to get the puppy for the kids.”
“Yes. He’s a good friend.”
“Is he? A friend, I mean?”
“Of course,” she snapped. “We might have different opinions over things, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”
“Hey, girl.”
Dana blushed. “Sorry. I was thinking about something else.”
“I have a feeling it’s all related.” Tess leaned back against the SUV. “I won’t give you the wide-eyed innocent look again. But around the time that stopped working for you, I think we discovered boys. Dana,” she added softly, “you know what I meant by the emphasis on that word just now. It’s obvious Ben wants to be more than a friend.”
“He can’t be.”
“Why not?”
She looked around the lot, empty of other shoppers at that moment. Empty of a possible distraction. Trapped, she looked back at Tess again. “You know why. And
he’s only being nice because of Paul.”
Tess shook her head. “Oh, no, he’s not.”
“We’re just friends,” Dana insisted. “Besides, if I... If we...” She gripped the handle of the shopping cart. “I could never live it down.”
“Live what down?”
She groaned. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you? All right, then. Folks would never forgive Paul’s wife and Paul’s best friend for crossing that line.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is.” She sighed. “You should hear Clarice rant about it. She’s appalled that Ben is at the house so often—and there’s not even anything going on between us.”
Not anymore.
“Clarice is a wonderful woman,” Tess said, “but she’s never gotten over losing Vernon. She’s let his death affect too many things in her life. Don’t let her get to you, Dana. Clarice is not the voice of Flagman’s Folly.”
Dana’s guilt eased just the smallest bit. “All right, maybe not, but Ellamae is.”
Tess laughed, and despite her mixed emotions—or maybe because of them—Dana couldn’t keep from smiling, too.
“You’re right,” Tess said. “Or at least, Aunt El thinks she is. But she doesn’t feel the way Clarice does. She and Mom think you and Ben make a perfect couple.”
That statement made her reel. “No—”
“Yes. You know I wouldn’t lie to you. Everyone in town thinks that.”
“I don’t believe it,” she blurted, then shivered at her accidental echo of Ben’s words. “No one has ever said anything like this to me before. Why not? And why are you saying it now?”
“Because they were giving you time. Letting you grieve. But I’m your best friend, and I’m saying it now because it is time.”
“You mean, you think that, too?”
Tess nodded. “I’ll confess, I have for years. I don’t want to hurt you,” she added, her voice soft again, “but I saw how things were with you and Paul. You’ve been ready for a while. You need to move on. You and Ben.”
Dana stared across the empty parking lot. Everything Tess had said stunned her. Her final admission took her breath away.
She had a confession of her own to tell, but she couldn’t share it with Tess now. She couldn’t admit Ben had already moved on.
And the quiet closing of the door behind him said he wouldn’t be back again.
* * *
DANA SAT IN THE FRONT ROW of spectators’ seats in the courtroom and braced herself as Ben announced the next items on the agenda. The proposals.
Whispers broke out all around her, then quieted, until she heard nothing in the room but the blades of the overhead fan. Obviously the time had come to address the topic of most interest to folks this evening.
Which proposal had received Ben’s all-important vote? Had he supported the playground? Or had he voted the way he had planned all along—to choose the memorial and stay loyal to his best friend?
No sense worrying about it, when she already knew what decision he had made.
She should have known from the beginning, from the night of Tess’s wedding, when he’d told her about the promise he’d made. Now, weeks later, that news still made her breath catch. No matter what he claimed about being friends, for all these months since Paul’s death, he’d thought of her as less than that. He’d considered her his responsibility. That knowledge hurt more than she could ever have imagined.
Just as she had hurt him with the truth about Paul.
They couldn’t be...close. She’d made sure they couldn’t be friends. And now he had decided against her proposal.
How could she expect anything else?
Still, holding on to hope, she had tried to talk to him since her arrival tonight. But like the previous meeting when she had refused to make eye contact, he now avoided her.
At the front table, he cleared his throat and moved his water glass aside. Nervous gestures that astounded her. In all the years she had known him, Ben Sawyer had never once felt nervous about speaking in public.
He couldn’t face her because he’d decided against her proposal.
And she was going to live for the rest of her life with a permanent, public reminder of all the mistakes she had made.
“Folks,” he began, “as you know, the council was recently presented with two proposals, both involving property adjacent to the elementary school.” Reading from the paper in front of him, he said, “The first proposal recommends that a memorial be erected on that site to honor Paul Wright, one of our own local heroes. A man who gave his life for his country.”
No one made a sound. Dana locked her fingers in her lap.
“The second proposal,” he continued, “recommends the building of a playground on that same site, to provide a common area for the children of Flagman’s Folly.” He set the papers aside and looked up at his audience. “The council considered both proposals very carefully and came to—” he paused “—an impasse.”
The whispers broke out again. He waited until they had trailed away. “As a result,” he said slowly, “the council has an alternative suggestion to present to both committees.”
She exchanged a glance with Kayla.
Then she looked across the aisle at Tess, who gave a tiny shrug. Beside her, Ellamae wore a disgruntled expression. Obviously neither her gossip-gathering skill nor the power of Judge Baylor had helped her this time.
Dana faced forward again. Ben sat looking directly at her. She jumped. Hoping he hadn’t noticed, she pressed her fingers more tightly together.
He had always claimed he could read her face. She wished she could read his. But she couldn’t—because there was nothing to see. No expression. No emotion. No feelings for her at all.
He looked away.
“The council,” he continued, “recommends the committees meet on a middle ground. We would like to support the intent to honor Paul Wright with a memorial—” his gaze met Dana’s again briefly, then moved out to survey the room “—by suggesting the two committees merge, name the playground after the Wright family, and dedicate it to Paul and Dana’s children and all the children of Flagman’s Folly.”
A hush fell over the courtroom, as if everyone in it had taken a deep breath.
A similar quiet had filled the cemetery the day they’d laid Paul to rest. Dana did now what she couldn’t do then.
Fight back tears.
* * *
AFTER SENDING ANNE HOME with Billy, Dana went to kiss all three of her sleeping kids. She patted Duchess, curled up in the bed that had somehow made its way upstairs to the floor in P.J.’s room. One corner of the dinosaur quilt trailed down beside the puppy, as if P.J. had tried to tuck her in for the night.
Downstairs in the living room again, she curled up on the couch, tucking herself in with the afghan. She tried not to think about the last time she had sat there with Ben.
The reaction to his announcement in the courtroom tonight left no doubt about how everyone in the room felt. After a quick conference with both committees, Ellamae immediately presented a revised proposal, which the council had unanimously passed.
Dana had left Town Hall as soon as she could.
She and Ben hadn’t spoken a word to each other.
She pulled the afghan more closely around her. Through the long window beside the front door, she saw a truck glide past the house. The streetlamp gave off enough light to tell her the truck was Ben’s.
Of course. He was on his way home.
Headlights flashed in the east window. He had turned into her driveway. She exhaled in a rush. Before he reached the steps, she had moved to the entryway and opened the door.
The cold night air made her shiver. Made her voice shake when she said, “I didn’t want the bell to wake the kids.”
When he said nothing, she asked, “You’re just here to listen again?”
“At first, anyhow.”
She nodded and led him into the living room.
He took a seat beside her on the couch.
She hadn’t planned what she would tell him, if she ever got the chance to talk to him again. After tonight’s meeting, she hadn’t really expected to have the opportunity at all. But now that he had arrived, she felt no qualms.
This was Ben.
She took a deep breath. “I’ll start. But first, there’s something I need to know. You told me you had the deciding vote on the council.”
He nodded.
“But there was a stalemate. That means you didn’t vote.”
“That’s right.”
“The committee’s recommendation tonight—the compromise—that was your idea, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. I knew how you felt about the memorial, but not why. Not in the beginning.” He shook his head. “If I had, I might not have pushed as hard as I did for you to tell me your reasons. But even once I knew, when it came down to it, I still wanted to see Paul honored. Now he is, and his name will live on the way it should. Through his family.”
She nodded. That was Ben, too. Of course, he would stand up for what he believed in. Would stay loyal and true.
“You’re right,” she said softly. “He was your best friend, in the only way he knew how to be. You need to honor that.”
“You’re okay with it?”
“I’m okay with it.” She had managed to hold back earlier, but now she couldn’t stop a tear from running down her cheek. She wiped it away. “After I left Town Hall, I stopped by the cemetery to make my peace with Paul. Thanks to you.”
“Me?”
She nodded. “At the end of his life, he was a hero. You were right about that, too, all along. And it’s what I want the kids to remember about him.”
“The good parts.” He smiled sadly. “The rest of what you told me, they don’t need to know. No one does.”
“No. But I want you to know all the parts.”