by R. C. Ryan
When the door closed behind him, she looked up at Ben. “I could make some coffee.”
He shook his head. “This isn’t a social call, Becca. But I’d feel better if you’d finish that whiskey. You’re still too pale.”
She managed a dry laugh. “You’d be pale, too, if someone nearly shot you.” The minute the words were out of her mouth, she realized the irony. “Sorry. I forgot for a minute that you’re here in your job as a lawman.” She shook her head. “Do you ever get used to something like this?”
He gave a shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll let you know. I’m new to this job.”
“Oh, Ben.” She downed the whiskey and set the empty tumbler on a side table before clutching her hands together in her lap. “Do you really think someone wanted to shoot Will and me?”
He tried to keep his tone bland. “If not the two of you, then maybe one of you. But which one?”
Seeing her wary look, he cleared his throat. “So, I need to ask. Do you have any enemies? Could there be a disgruntled lover in your past?”
Her face flamed, and she lifted her head a fraction, revealing the offended look that came into her eyes. Her tone was equally offended. “That’s beneath you, Ben.”
“I’m sorry, Becca. I’m asking as a man of the law.”
“Of course you are.” Her tone sharpened. “And you’re enjoying yourself in the bargain.”
Temper had the color returning to her cheeks, which only moments earlier had been too pale.
He gave her that sexy smile. “Can’t blame a guy for getting his information any way he can.”
“There was…a boyfriend while I was living in Bozeman.”
“Was? Did it end badly?” Seeing the protest that sprang to her lips, he added, “Badly enough that he might come here seeking revenge?”
Her tone was pure ice. “I don’t make it a point to date guys who want to shoot guns.”
“I’ll remember that for future reference.”
“I wasn’t talking about…you, Ben.” She got to her feet. “Maybe I should drop by the sheriff’s office tomorrow and file my report with him. That will give me time to gather my thoughts.”
“I understand. I’m not handling this very well myself.” He turned toward the door. “Do you have a security system in this house?”
“I…never thought I’d need one.”
“I’d be happy to drive you to your parents’ house.”
“No.” The word was spoken sharply. “That’s not an option.”
“You shouldn’t be alone. At least for tonight, Becca.”
“Then you believe the shooter will return?” She began wringing her hands. “You think he’ll try again?”
He put a hand on her shoulder, hoping to soothe. “I don’t know what to think. I don’t even know who the intended victim is yet. But you’re vulnerable here. No alarm.” He studied the simple key lock. “Not even a dead bolt.” His tone revealed his frustration. “Let me take you home.”
“This is my home. I’m staying here. I’ll…” She looked around frantically. “I’ll jam a kitchen chair against the knob like they do in the movies.”
“This isn’t pretend. This is real life. You shouldn’t be here alone.”
She sank back down in her chair and looked like she might break down at any minute and cry. “You’re scaring me, Ben.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to. What I want is for you to be safe. Let me drive you…”
“As terrified as I feel, I won’t go running home to Daddy and Mommy. I’ve been on my own since college and I’m never going back. I…can’t.”
“I get that.” He knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his. Despite the warmth of the room, they were cold. “I understand your need to be independent. But you’ve just had a terrible shock. You’re feeling afraid and vulnerable. You need some time to process what happened tonight. And you need to feel safe. Since your current boyfriend didn’t stick around to protect you, the sensible thing is to go back to your parents’ house, at least for tonight.”
Her head came up sharply. “Why did you say that? Will isn’t my boyfriend. He’s just a friend.”
“I thought…” He paused. “Sorry. Since you and Will both returned to Haller Creek at the same time, I just assumed…”
“We didn’t come together. We just happened to arrive a few days apart.”
“And the dinner tonight? It wasn’t arranged for any big announcement?”
“The only announcement was the one by my father, suggesting that renting this place was just wrong. I’m still his little girl, and I belong there, with him.” She shook her head. “That’s why I can’t go back, Ben. If I do, my father will see it as an admission that he was right. I won’t keep fighting all the old battles over and over.”
“All right. I get it.” He stared at their joined hands, then up at her mouth and felt his throat go dry at the thought of tasting those lips. Just being this close, holding her hands, had heat rushing through him. “Tell me what you want to do.”
“I just want to feel safe.” Seeing the way he was studying her, she took in a deep breath. “I’ll lock the door and keep the lights on all night. If I have to, I’ll sleep in this chair, with my cell phone in my lap. That way, if anyone rattles the doorknob, I’ll hear it and dial nine-one-one.”
Needing to put some distance between them, Ben stood and crossed to the window, drawing the drapes. Then he walked to the kitchen, and from there to the laundry room and back door. After some time he made his way to her bedroom and bathroom, before returning to the living room.
He struggled for an official tone. “All right. The back door and windows are secure. When I leave here, lock the front door. Leave all the lights on, including the porch light, so you can see anybody approaching. If there’s trouble, you call immediately.”
She nodded.
Ben held up a hand. “I agreed to take the midnight shift for Virgil. Since I’m on duty anyway, I’ll try to make a pass through this neighborhood every hour or two. But I could be called away for emergencies. If I’m off on another call, the state police will cover me. So don’t count on me, you hear? If anything at all bothers you, if you hear a noise outside, a sound you can’t identify, dial that phone.”
“Yes, sir.” At his stern look she managed a smile.
He touched a finger to the curve of her mouth. “I’m glad to see your sense of humor returned. Are you feeling a little stronger?”
“Yes. Maybe your strength is contagious.”
He started toward the door, with Rebecca trailing him.
Just as she reached for the handle, he turned. “Lock this when I…”
Their faces were nearly brushing. He breathed her in, and the scent of her filled his lungs. His heart. His very soul.
He leaned close just as she leaned forward. That was nearly his undoing. For one breathless moment he simply stared at her, fighting an almost overpowering need to hold her. To kiss her.
The sudden blaze of heat had him by the throat before he could compose himself. Without realizing it, he lifted a hand to her cheek. “I want to keep you safe, Becca.”
She put a hand over his. “I know. That means a lot to me, Ben.”
“I’m…” His voice was little more than a whisper. “I’m trying really hard to be professional.”
Very deliberately he took a step back, and then another.
She smiled, and his heart did a slow, lazy dip.
“Despite the danger, I’m glad I came home, Ben.”
“Me too.” He managed a sexy grin, though he was feeling none too steady. “It’s a little late but…welcome home, Becca.”
He opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. “Remember. Lock this.”
“I won’t forget.”
He stood perfectly still, staring at the closed door, listening to the sound of the lock being thrown.
As he settled into the sheriff’s vehicle, he sat a moment before turning on the ignition.
His mind wasn’t on
the shots fired. There was only one thing that mattered.
She wasn’t engaged to Will Theisen. He felt like he’d just climbed to the top of the highest peak of the Bitterroot Mountains.
His chest was heaving.
His hands were shaking.
His world was rocking.
And he wanted, more than anything, to go back right now and kiss her until they were both breathless.
Chapter Seven
Sam looked up from passing a platter of pancakes to Finn. “Well, look who’s here. Our new lawman. Just in time for breakfast.”
Ben gave a wicked smile. “I planned it that way.” He hung his hat on a hook by the back door and washed up at the sink in the mudroom before taking his place at the table. “Where’s Mary Pat?”
Mac frowned. “She had an early call. She was up and gone by dawn. I worry that she’s taking on too much.” He handed Ben a mug of steaming coffee. “How was your first night on the job?”
“Interesting.” Ben poured syrup over the pancakes and helped himself to scrambled eggs, ham, and fried potatoes.
While the others paused, he dug into his meal.
Sam punched his arm. “Hey. You can’t leave us hanging like that. What was interesting about your first night?”
Ben took a forkful of sweet pancakes and several swallows of coffee, enjoying the way the others merely watched. “Well, let’s see. There was an accident on the interstate. A cattle hauler was sideswiped by a logging truck. Nobody injured, but there were logs and cows all over the place. I had to call for wranglers from the Fisher ranch to come round up their cattle. As for the logs, it’ll be another hour before they get them all loaded up and out of there.”
“That doesn’t sound too interesting to me.” Finn shared a look with his brother. “So what else happened?”
“The usual. Minnie Purcell and Chet Bowling got drunk and disorderly at the Hitching Post. They’re sobering up in jail. Two more clients for you, bro.” He finished his eggs. “And then there were the gunshots in town.”
At that, everyone at the table stopped what they were doing to stare at him.
“Gunshots in Haller Creek?” Mac set aside his fork. “Was it some drunken cowboy?”
“I don’t know. The shooter was long gone by the time I got there.”
“And the victim? Dead or alive?”
“Alive.” He thought about the way he’d felt when he put his arm around Rebecca’s waist and helped her to a chair. Oh yeah. Very much alive. “I don’t know who the intended victim was. Rebecca Henderson and Will Theisen were walking to her place when somebody fired two shots. They weren’t hit, but pretty shaken up.”
Roscoe snorted. “I would be, too, if somebody shot at me in the dark. Or even in daylight.”
Ben managed a smile at the old man’s humor. “The call came from the house Rebecca is renting on Maple Drive. Will left with a migraine. Rebecca refused to let me drive her to her folks’ place.”
Mac set down his coffee cup with a clatter. “She stayed alone?”
Ben shrugged. “Her call. As she reminded me, she’s been living on her own in Bozeman for years now. I managed to drive down Maple a couple of times during the night, but I got a little busy. I phoned her on the drive home this morning, and she said she was on her way to the sheriff’s office to file an official report.”
Finn nudged Sam before looking over at their older brother. “So Rebecca and Will were walking to her place together. Does this mean they made the”—he held up his fingers to mimic quotation marks—“big announcement?”
Ben’s smile grew. “According to Rebecca, they’re just friends. So she insisted there won’t be any”—he imitated Finn—“big announcement.”
“Whew.” Finn wiped his brow. “I guess Rebecca dodged a bullet.”
Sam chuckled. “In more ways than one.” He turned to his brother. “And now you’re going to be searching for a mysterious gunman while trying to keep Rebecca safe.” He exchanged a grin with Finn. “Bet you weren’t expecting this when you agreed to wear that badge, bro.”
Finn nodded. “Pretty intense, if you ask me.”
Mac looked around the table, seeing the look of concentration on Ben’s face. “Well. Crisis averted. Now it’s time to get to work.” He shoved back his chair. “Great breakfast, Zachariah. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” The old lion sat back, sipping his coffee as the others followed Mac’s lead and stacked their dishes in the sink before heading outside.
When they were gone, he looked down the table at Ben, spooning orange marmalade onto a piece of toast. Despite the fact that Ben had been up around the clock, he didn’t appear at all tired.
“Your first night on the job proved…interesting.”
“Yeah.” Feeling the old man studying him, he looked over. “Okay. You’re leading up to something.”
“I am?”
“Out with it.”
Zachariah merely smiled. “You gave us the facts, Benedict. But I have a feeling you left out the most interesting highlights of the night.”
Ben’s smile came slowly. “You got that right.”
Zachariah eased himself out of his chair and walked to the kitchen sink. A short time later, when he’d dried the last dish, he turned to see Ben still at the table, drinking his third cup of coffee, and still staring into space.
The old man knew better than to press for details. These three troubled boys had learned early in life to play their cards close to the vest.
Now men, the three never talked about their painful childhood, though they probably had plenty of stories to tell.
Like so many who had come through fire, part of their survival mode was to keep that part of their lives locked away in a secret place in their minds.
If he was a betting man, he’d put money on the fact that Rebecca Henderson was the reason for Benedict’s look of extreme concentration this morning. The new deputy would now be responsible for the safety of Rebecca.
The mere mention of her name had always put a spark in that young man’s eyes that seemed to light up his very soul.
Despite her father’s reputation for micromanaging everyone and everything around him, especially his pretty daughter, Rebecca Henderson had always seemed friendly and untouched by Hank’s chronic complaining.
And though she and Benedict had been apart for years now, there seemed to be something still there between them. Something undefined that had this young man dancing lightly around the mere mention of her name, as though afraid to sample the wine in case it went straight to his head.
To Zachariah’s way of thinking, a taste of wine might be good for Benedict. He’d had to be the strong, unbending leader of his pack for too long now.
Maybe it was time for him to let go the straight and narrow and walk on the wild side.
“What do you make of that shooting, Ben?” Virgil Kerr sat behind his desk facing his new deputy.
“I don’t know enough about it to have an opinion. Have there been other shootings I don’t know about?”
Virgil leaned back, tapping a finger on the arm of his chair. “None. This is a first for Haller Creek. We’ve had the occasional cowboy getting drunk and firing off a round or two, but this has the feeling of a big-city crime. Two innocent people walking home. Two shots fired, barely missing them.”
“Maybe that’s the way the shooter wanted it.”
The sheriff sat up straighter. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Ben shrugged. “He had two chances to hit a slow-moving target. According to Rebecca, they didn’t drop to the ground until the second shot sent a bullet flying over their heads. Our gunman didn’t have a very good aim.”
Virgil gave that some thought. “Supposing your theory is correct, who was he warning? Reverend Will Theisen or Rebecca Henderson?”
“That’s the million-dollar question.” Ben leaned forward. “Have they both filed an official report?”
“They have.”
“Anything
in there that raises a flag?”
“Nothing. Just a normal evening stroll, and then, bam, bam. Two gunshots.”
“Are you looking into their backgrounds?”
The sheriff nodded. “I sent the information to the state boys. They’ve got the manpower and special training to get on it. Since both Will and Rebecca have been gone for some years, there’s no telling what they might have got themselves into. Maybe an old debt. Maybe an old grudge.” He steepled his fingers on the desktop. “You notice anything peculiar about either of them last night?”
“Will went home with a migraine, and Rebecca refused to go to her parents’ place.” Ben gave a dry laugh. “Neither of which seems particularly weird considering what they’d just been through.”
Virgil frowned. “Did Will say if his migraine is typical, or the result of what happened last night?”
“He didn’t say, and I didn’t think to ask.”
“Did Rebecca say why she didn’t want to stay with her folks?”
“She said she’s been on her own too long to go running home to mom and dad.”
Virgil gave that some thought before sighing. “Can’t say I blame her. Hank Henderson can be a self-righteous, overbearing fool at times.”
Ben merely grinned. “You think?”
“I guess you’d know about that.” Virgil gave a grunt. “Hank’s never been shy about saying what he thinks about you and your brothers.”
“The hell-raisers.” With a sigh, Ben got to his feet.
Virgil glanced at the clock. “Your shift doesn’t start for another hour.”
“Thought I’d start cleaning out that back room. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll get a night without any drunks, accidents on the interstate, or unexplained shootings, and I can grab some shut-eye.”
“Don’t count on it, son.” The sheriff picked up his hat and headed for the door. “Life has a way of spoiling the best-laid plans of mice and men.”
He paused before striding through the open doorway and into the growing darkness. “I’ll make a last turn around the town; then I’m going home.”
“Sleep tight, Sheriff.”
“Good night, Ben. Stay safe.”
