by Jodi Thomas
“There are plenty,” she said, her voice shaking with cold as she quickly lit a lantern. “Dry him off.”
“Dry yourself off,” I said.
“We’ll go to the house and get dry when we’ve taken care of them,” she said, scrubbing at Daisy’s coat. “We need to get out of these wet clothes.”
I nearly dried on the spot.
“Yes, we do.”
She stood up and gave me a look, her eyes looking huge in the flickering light.
“We can’t—” She shook her head and went back to rubbing Daisy’s legs like it was her sole mission in life, wavy, dark locks swinging loose from her braid. “That was a mistake. I got caught up in—I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You were thinking that things felt incredibly perfect for the first time in years,” I said, picking up a blanket and setting to work on King, the regal, nine-year-old stallion that had adopted me when I first got to the Mason Ranch.
Her hands slowed, pausing for a couple of beats before they jumped back to the task. A telltale sign that I’d struck a nerve. Or perhaps a vein of truth.
We worked like that in silence, listening to the rustle of the rough blankets and the howl of the wind around the old stable. Only when the animals were dried and draped with fresh blankets and had been given some oats did she speak again, not looking up.
“You destroyed me, Ben,” she said softly.
It didn’t escape me that she’d called me Ben, but the pain still evident in her tone cut me to the core.
“I know,” I said. “You destroyed me, too.”
She turned to look at me then, and I could tell she’d never considered that. I watched the thoughts play over her face.
“You assumed the worst of me and left. Forever.”
A shaky breath left her chest. “I did,” she breathed. “I’m sorry.”
I nodded. “Me too.”
Chapter 10
1904
Josie
We were sitting on the big stone hearth, stripped down to our underthings and wrapped in blankets, fire almost licking at our backs, as Lila fussed around Ben and me, and Malcolm came in with two steaming mugs of his spiced tea concoction.
Yes, I called him Ben. After what we’d just done out there . . . it seemed frighteningly fitting. My God, I couldn’t believe I’d done such a thing. Out in the wide open, humping a man’s crotch while he sucked my nipple until I came apart? Against a tree. In a rainstorm. Let’s forget for two seconds that the man was Benjamin Mason, the man who’d shattered me into a million pieces five years ago.
Who does that?
Me evidently.
You destroyed me, too. You assumed the worst of me and left.
His words stabbed into me like a hot poker.
Lila’s eyes kept meeting mine knowingly, and I couldn’t quite read her thoughts. I’m sure I looked a mess, but we were out in a storm, after all. Maybe it wasn’t my physical appearance. Maybe I just reeked of animalistic orgasm.
God, I wanted to jump into that fire.
I hadn’t been able to stop myself. Every bit of logic that poked at me when it came to Benjamin Mason went zipping off into the raindrops and the driving wind when he got that close, and when he kissed me—I was done for.
Maybe I need you.
Yes. Truly done for. Nothing on this earth tasted as good as him on my tongue. His mouth. His skin. His smell. The feel of his hands on my body as he touched me. Rough and tender. Sweet and scorching. Two people so desperate to memorize every inch of the other that we couldn’t get enough. Because yes, I was just as needy.
I couldn’t look him in the eye now, and maybe that was what Lila was picking up on. What he’d said in the stable—about things feeling right for the first time in so long—it was exactly what I’d been thinking.
And what I couldn’t afford.
But more than that, my heart hurt. What he’d also said—that I’d hurt him, too—my God, I’d never even thought about that. That I’d never given him the benefit of the doubt, I’d just taken it all at the hideous face value in front of me and bolted. Left him to deal with all that landed on him, without even a friend to lean on. Granted, I thought Winifred was that friend at the time, in my haze of anger, but still.
My anger was gone now. Talking to him the last couple of days, meeting his daughter—it helped. Either I was just older and less dramatic, or possibly just more open to listening after all this time, but I understood him better now. I could finally see past my own pain and wrap my head around the choices he’d had to make.
The sacrifices.
But could I chance risking my heart again with him? And with my family’s legacy? I didn’t know. I didn’t think so. I couldn’t afford to trust in that. In anything. But at what cost? Losing it all?
I chanced a sideways glance at him, taking in his messy, slightly damp hair that my fingers had twisted in. At the lines next to his eyes and the rough calluses on his hands where they wrapped around his mug. He wasn’t cut out to be the big boss. He was a worker at heart. Clearly more than just at heart.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Mason,” Lila said, cutting her eyes my way with a subtle eyebrow raise. “It’s been a bit.”
“Yes, you too, Lila,” he said softly, smiling at her, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a sadness there that I’d noticed last night as well. I hadn’t recognized it then, but today—today felt like I’d lived a week in this man’s presence. Other than with Abigail, he didn’t seem very happy. Not like when I’d met him. Back when both of us were . . .
I closed my eyes. That couldn’t matter. This was business.
“Last time I saw you was at the funeral, I believe,” she said, busying herself with nonexistent dirt on a table as my head snapped her way. “At the back of the crowd.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I—didn’t want to intrude,” he said. “But I had a lot of respect for Mr. Bancroft. He was a good man.”
Ben was at my father’s funeral? I never knew that. I’d noted his marked absence, adding it to his many sins at the time, and Lila had never corrected me. By all appearances, she was saving that little tidbit for some choice moment. Like possibly now.
“He and Uncle Travis were about to merge,” Ben continued, lobbing another surprise swing my way. “They were joining forces.”
“What?”
“The day my uncle died,” he said. “They were making plans.”
I shook my head. “I don’t believe that.”
“Well, you didn’t believe they conspired to have me watch things at the Lucky B either,” he said. “But I lived it and your father told me that himself. Can’t prove it, but you’ll just have to trust me.” He leveled a sideways look at me that said so many things his mouth didn’t. Things that were packed up with old memories that had very recently been shaken out. “Or not.”
“What do you mean, joining forces?” I asked.
He looked back down into his mug. “They had a plan. Make the two places into a larger ranch, with the individual specialties benefiting both.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask. But now that I’m in this position, and see the numbers on a regular basis, I get it. It makes sense. They were thinking way ahead of themselves, but I’m willing to bet it would have worked.”
“It’s crazy,” I said under my breath. I had to be insane to even entertain the idea.
“Something to think about,” he said.
“To think about?” I echoed, standing and wrapping my blanket tighter around my body. “Just yesterday, we hadn’t spoken in five years, Ben. Now we’re—”
I stopped and swallowed. Hard. He looked up at me with a mixture of the old and new in his expression. The fiery young man who had loved me so fiercely. Or had claimed to anyway. And the present-day ranch owner and father who just looked tired and sad. Who had kissed me into oblivion less than an hour earlier.
“Wh
at are we, Josie?” he asked softly.
Malcolm cleared his throat, and we both blinked quickly, remembering we had an audience.
I ran a hand over my face and moved to massage my neck. My hair was tied up on top of my head, and tendrils fell loose over my hand.
“I can’t—I can’t do that, Ben,” I said.
I felt the collective disappointment in the room, and the weight pressed in.
“What else are you going to do?” he said. “Marry Martin LaDeen and be Josephine LaDeen?” Lila snorted, and I cut a look in her direction. “He’s in oil, Josie. He’s going to put big oil rigs on your land and milk it for all its worth.”
I frowned. “He never said such a thing.”
“He doesn’t have to,” Ben said. “All he has to do is get the place in his name and he can do whatever he wants. Why bother you with those pesky little details now?”
I narrowed my eyes. “That’s rude.”
“That’s real,” he said. “Forget the cattle. They’ll be sold, mark my words. He didn’t like them when he worked here.”
I was pacing and I stopped and turned back. “Worked here? What are you talking about?”
Ben’s brows furrowed. “He—was a senior ranch hand when I first came on.”
“What?” I stared at him, “No.”
His expression grew more serious. “He didn’t mention it?”
“No, and I would remember. I’ve known every man who worked here.” I raised a brow. “I brought the water every day, remember?”
“Well, he never did anything,” Ben said. “Never worked any of the outdoor jobs, and found things to sit, stand, or lean on while everyone else worked their asses off. Guys called him Heavy Lean Deen.”
I gasped. “Oh my God, I remember that. Or—indirectly anyway. I remember hearing you all talk about him—”
“I do, too,” Malcolm said. “I didn’t remember his real name, but I remember the nickname.”
“You do?” I asked.
Malcolm nodded. “One of only two men I’ve ever fired in my life.”
“You fired him from the Lucky B?” I said, widening my eyes. “When? Why?”
“Right after . . . Mr. Mason left,” Malcolm said, pointing awkwardly at Ben. “Caught him stealing tools. Sacking them away in his horse’s saddlebags. I had a feeling it wasn’t the first time.”
I thought of what Ben had told me about their theft suspicions, which, sadly, just helped to confirm all he’d said.
“So, he was the one,” Ben said. “He was the only one down there who knew who I was. How convenient. He works for an oil company out of Houston now.”
“God, the whole world is crooked,” I breathed, closing my eyes. “I can’t trust anything.”
I heard a sharp release of breath, and I opened my eyes to see Ben drop his blanket and grab his nearly dry shirt.
My throat went just as dry, and Lila turned around and busied herself as Ben made the inappropriate movement of being shirtless in mixed company. But that was the thing with him. It wasn’t inappropriate in his world; it was just life. He and I were much alike in that regard, not giving a damn about etiquette, albeit easier for him. Men could get away with that line of thinking, while I sat there not looking away, soaking up every inch of skin and wanting to lick every muscle. His back was even better, but I didn’t see much of it as he yanked on his shirt and whirled on me.
“I have to go check on Abigail,” he said tightly.
“O—okay,” I stuttered, not quite understanding the crisp coldness coming from him. I stood. “I need to go check on the herd myself.”
“I’ll do that,” Malcolm said, pushing to his feet. “The storm let up. Might even turn to some flurries, as cold as it’s getting out there.”
“No, Malcolm, I’ve got it—”
“Let him go, Josie,” Ben said, his voice booming. I stopped, stone still, as did Malcolm and Lila.
Chapter 11
1904
Ben
I couldn’t listen to another word about how she couldn’t trust anyone. To hell with it all. I had enough to deal with in my life, with Abigail and the ranch and all the little details of both that kept me running. I didn’t need Josie Bancroft’s drama.
Not even when I could still taste her sweetness on my tongue.
I didn’t mean to raise my voice, but damn it—the constant need to do everything herself made me want to shake her till her teeth rattled. Or until I could shut her up again with my mouth. Which if we were alone, I would do in a heartbeat.
“He’s offering to help,” I said, pointing at Malcolm.
“But—”
“But nothing,” I growled. “Let him help you.” Yes, let that inflection set in. “I’m going to make sure my daughter is all right, and then I’m coming back with some men to give him a hand—”
“Ben,” she began, that chin going up in the air already.
“I don’t give a damn what you need or don’t need, Josie,” I said, making her blink quickly. “I don’t care that you don’t want my help. I’m doing it.” I pulled on my shoes roughly and looked around for anything else of mine that might be lying about. “Be out there if you need to, but I’ll be there, too. You aren’t alone anymore.”
Josie looked away, her jaw tight. “I’m always alone.”
“That’s a load of bull, Miss Josie,” Malcolm said, turning back. Her eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, and maybe it’s not my place to say, but look around you right now, young lady. Are you alone in this room? Did you fetch that tea? Did you warm that blanket? Did you stoke that fire?” He shook his head, running veined hands through his silver hair before shoving his hat on top. “We might not be blood, but no one cares for you more than we do.” He gestured toward me. “You’ve been praying for help. Get out of your own way and pay attention.”
Malcolm nodded toward Lila as he turned and left the room, touching the brim of his hat.
“Miss Lila.”
Both women stared after him, slack-jawed, Lila a little flushed. I guessed they’d never seen that man be a stable boss. He ran a tight ship, once upon a time.
“Miss Lila, thank you so much for this,” I said, taking the older woman’s hand in mine and covering it with my other one. “If I don’t see you, have a very Merry Christmas.”
Her eyes warmed, looking a little wistful. “Thank you, Mr. Mason. I’ll send some sugar cookies over for your daughter.”
I smiled. “Just Ben. And she’d love that, thank you.”
When I moved my gaze to Josie, Lila immediately slipped from the room. We were alone. I could have kissed her if I’d wanted, but I had to stop thinking like that. What had happened outside was a fluke and a mistake. There was too much water under this bridge. Right now, things needed to be said. Whether she wanted to hear them or not.
I love you.
I love you more.
Our old banter filled my head and I had to shake it free.
“Josie, I was hired to do a job five years ago, and then I fell for you and handled everything after that like a lovestruck boy. I did nothing right. And I’m sorry.”
Her eyes looked distant as she gazed off at nothing. “I still can’t believe my father hired a spy to watch his own people. That he did that without telling me. That you did the same.”
“Things were happening that he felt in his gut but couldn’t prove, and no one knew me,” I said. “And I was sworn to secrecy.”
“From me.”
“From everyone,” I said. “But I told you that night—”
“Only because you were stuck,” she said, her gaze coming back to meet mine. “If I’d never come to that party . . .”
“My hand may have been forced, Josie,” I said, stepping forward. “But what you don’t know is that I’d already decided that night that I was done with it all.”
I could feel the heat radiating from her as I moved closer to her, to see her breathing quicken, her tongue dart out to wet her lips as she worked equally hard to neutr
alize her expression. I gritted my teeth and focused back on her eyes instead of her mouth.
“Before I saw you, or Winifred, or anyone,” I continued. “I was upstairs putting on my coat, practicing what to say to you, how to lay it all out there and ask you to marry me as soon as you arrived. That very night.” Those huge, dark eyes widened, her eyelashes fluttering in a way I knew she’d hate but that sent a zing straight to my cock. “There was nothing contrived about that, Josie. Or my feelings for you. I didn’t care where we’d go or what we’d do; all that mattered was that you were with me.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and when one spilled over, I reached out to brush it from her cheek. The contact was like an electric jolt through my body, but I stayed where I was. All the next choices had to be hers.
“Everything might have blown up afterward, but that was as real as it could be,” I said, forcing my hand back down to my side. “That’s all there is to my story. There are no more secrets. You can tell yourself you’re all you have, but Malcolm was right. You ran from me once and never looked back. If you do that again, it’s your own choice. I can’t make you trust me. You do what you have to do.”
Before I could change my mind and sweep her into my arms, I walked away. Out of the room, out of the house, lifting my collar against the wet cold as I headed to the small horse stable for King.
Chapter 12
1904
Josie
I didn’t go.
It killed me, and went against every fiber of my being not to be out there, dealing with my own cattle, my own business, but Malcolm’s words kept echoing in my head. All that afternoon and into the night, as I lay in bed until the sun peeked in on the next dreaded day.
Malcolm’s, not Ben’s.
Malcolm telling me to get out of my own way.
I couldn’t think about Ben basically telling me it was all up to me. Or that he’d brought up the marriage proposal from five years ago with as much fervor and passion as he had the night he’d made it, fire burning in his eyes. Or that after just one day of him back in my world, I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing him. About how good he’d felt pressed against me, his hands on my body. My hands on his.