A Last Chance Christmas

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A Last Chance Christmas Page 11

by Vicki Lewis Thompson


  12

  MOLLY HEARD JACK and Ben talking about something, but they spoke in low tones, as if they didn’t want her or Josie to hear them. A couple of times Jack glanced in her direction. She couldn’t shake the feeling they were discussing her. If so, then Jack suspected something.

  Josie might, too, but Molly hadn’t spent as much time with her as she had with Jack. Josie might not feel comfortable asking about Ben. Jack, on the other hand, allowed nothing to stand in the way of protecting those in his care. Sarah had told her that the other day, and now she’d seen it in action. When Jack had stepped into the tractor barn and spied her there with Ben, his whole manner had changed.

  Sure, he continued to joke with his wife, but underneath that banter something in his tone made her think he was mentally arming himself to confront a potential threat. She appreciated the impulse, but she didn’t want Jack to protect her from Ben. He reminded her so much of her brothers, who’d been intimidating her boyfriends ever since she’d turned sixteen and had been allowed, with major restrictions, to date.

  Extreme protectiveness, both from her brothers and her parents, had been one of her reasons for moving into town instead of continuing to live at the family ranch. She was the only girl, which meant she’d had to fight for her sexual freedom. If she hadn’t moved out, she’d probably still be a virgin.

  No doubt her brothers would disapprove of her relationship with Ben, but they weren’t here. Unfortunately, Jack was filling their role to perfection. She’d have to politely ask him to butt out, but finding a private moment to do that might be tough.

  Right after Jack and Ben hid the saddle under a large tarp at the far end of the house, Jack slung an arm around Josie’s shoulders. “Come on, babe. We need to shower and change for this shindig.” They both hurried back to Jack’s big red truck and drove away.

  The wind had picked up, so Molly helped Ben tuck the canvas tarp more securely under the stand so it wouldn’t flap. Maybe she was being paranoid about Jack’s conversation with Ben. She should ask Ben about it before accusing Jack of meddling in her business.

  Ben beat her to the punch. “Molly, we need to talk.” He straightened. “Maybe out here’s as good a place as any.”

  “Was I just the topic of conversation between you and Jack?”

  “Yes, and—”

  “Is he trying to protect me from you?”

  “In a way, but that’s not the point.”

  “It is the point. I’ll speak with him. I’ll let him know that this was mostly my idea. I don’t want him to get the wrong impression of you. After all, you’re hoping to do more business with him. I don’t want to interfere in any way with that.”

  “That’s fine, but I still—”

  “Hey, are you Radcliffe?” A middle-aged ranch hand with a handlebar mustache walked toward them, his boots crunching through the snow drifts.

  “I am.”

  “I’m Watkins.” The man shook hands with Ben. “Glad I caught you. Hey, Molly.”

  “Hey, Watkins.” Aunt Sarah had filled her in on the stocky cowboy’s background. Two years ago, after a long courtship, Watkins had won Mary Lou’s hand in marriage. Watkins had a first name, but nobody remembered what it was. He was also one of the guitar players scheduled to perform for tonight’s party.

  “Is the saddle under there?” Watkins peered at the tarp.

  “Yep,” Ben said, “but we’d better not uncover it again. I think we’ve finally got the blanket tucked around it good and tight.”

  “That’s okay. I can wait until the party. I’m not here about the saddle.” He was a good ten inches shorter than Ben and had to push back his hat and lift his chin to make eye contact. “I heard you might be willing to play a little harmonica with Trey and me tonight.”

  “I’d like that, if I wouldn’t be in the way.”

  “Hell, no, son. We’re not that slick. We’d love to have you, and I thought you might want to come on out to the barn. Trey’s already down there with some of our music and our guitars. If you’ll go fetch your harmonica, we can have a private jam session before the party and see what tunes we have in common.”

  “You bet. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  “See you then.” Watkins headed for the barn.

  Ben gazed at Molly. “What I have to say shouldn’t be rushed, and I’d better go. I said I’d play tonight, so I don’t want to duck out of it.”

  “You shouldn’t. It’ll be fun.”

  “But we’ll have to talk later.”

  “Are you thinking of changing the plan?”

  His hesitation gave her the answer.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t come to your room tonight. Jack must have put pressure on you to leave me alone.” And she’d deal with Jack, but she might not be able to sway him. She’d also discovered he was stubborn. “I don’t want to jeopardize—”

  “Please come to my room tonight. But before we...before we do anything, I have some things to say.”

  “You have a crazy wife tucked away in an asylum?”

  “No.” His smile was sad. “Nothing that dramatic. Ready to go in?”

  “Sure.” They walked around the house and up the porch steps without speaking.

  Once they were inside, Ben turned to her. “See you tonight.” Then he bounded up the stairs to get his harmonica.

  She debated whether to go up to her room and start getting ready. Normally she wouldn’t need an hour to primp, but tonight was special. She wanted to wash her hair and spend time on her makeup. An hour might not even be enough.

  Ben was coming back down as she pulled off her hat and started up the stairs. She gave him a quick smile. “Have fun.”

  “Thanks.” His return smile was polite and brief.

  With a sigh, she continued to her room. Too bad her situation with Ben had come to a head this soon, but the family would have discovered their relationship eventually, maybe even during the party tonight.

  Jack’s reaction wasn’t all that unusual, now that she had time to think about it. She was his youngest cousin from Arizona, and he’d never had sisters. That could make him even worse than her brothers when it came to interfering in her social life.

  His concern was sweet, and she didn’t want to be rude since she was a guest at this ranch. Although he wasn’t the only one in charge, he had plenty to say about what went on here. On the surface, it looked as if Ben had taken advantage of Jack’s hospitality by showing an interest in her.

  Without giving offense or revealing how far the relationship had progressed, she wanted to convince Jack it was a two-way street. Ben shouldn’t be blamed for something that she’d encouraged every step of the way. As Ben had said, they were both consenting adults and what they did in the privacy of his room was nobody else’s business.

  She didn’t intend for anyone to know that she’d spent the night in his bed and hoped to spend tonight there, too. The layout of the huge house made it unlikely that anyone knew. If she was careful not to be seen entering or leaving his room, that part of their secret would be safe.

  But Jack had planted a seed of doubt in Ben’s mind. Clearly he was wondering if he should back off. The thought made her stomach twist. They might only have this brief time together, but she’d counted on making use of all of it.

  If she were honest with herself, she’d have to admit that she hoped this affair wouldn’t end when she left Wyoming on Monday. Every moment she spent with Ben made him more precious to her. She didn’t want to give him up at all, much less have their time shortened by Jack’s influence.

  If Ben’s mind had changed, she’d just have to change it back. Fortunately, she had a killer dress in her closet. She’d brought it even though it might be a bit much for a family gathering. Jeans weren’t right. She’d packed a more casual dress in case that had seemed more appropriate, but she was going for the wow factor tonight.

  Thinking about the dress lifted her spirits. If her jeans and sweater turned Ben on, then this outfit would send
him up in flames. If he had any thoughts of backing out of their agreement, she wanted him to know exactly what he was rejecting.

  An hour later, she descended the stairs carefully, her wrapped gift in one hand, gripping the railing with the other. She looked hot, if she did say so herself. But her hotness quotient would be eliminated if she tripped in her four-inch heels and stumbled on the curved staircase. She also might damage the album she’d so carefully created for Aunt Sarah.

  Laughter and the hum of conversation told her most of the guests had arrived. Her beauty routine had taken longer than usual, so she was about fifteen minutes late. The results, in her humble opinion, were well worth it.

  She’d picked the knit dress off the rack because the moss green exactly matched her eyes. Then she’d tried it on, thinking that the long sleeves, ankle-length skirt and high neck would make it a fairly conservative choice. Oh, no. The dress slithered over her body like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination.

  That alone would have made it sexy as hell, but the skirt was slit up one side to several inches above her knee. She hadn’t noticed that, either, when she’d decided to try it on. Looking at herself in the dressing-room mirror, she’d seen a different Molly Gallagher, a seductive woman capable of driving men out of their minds. This was the dress’s first outing, and after her wild night and stolen afternoon session with Ben, she felt qualified to wear it.

  She’d bought teardrop earrings with stones the same color as the dress. She wore no other jewelry. The dress spoke for itself. Her hair was piled on top of her head and she had left a few tendrils dangling in front of her ears.

  “Molly?”

  She was halfway down the stairs when Ben called her name. She turned and looked over her shoulder. “Hi,” she said. “You look nice.” That was an understatement. He wore a crisp white Western shirt with silver piping that made his shoulders seem wider than ever, and his black dress jeans were sinfully snug.

  His black leather belt was intricately tooled, and she wondered if he’d made it. He wore no hat tonight, and his thick hair gleamed in the light from the hallway. The scent of shampoo and shaving lotion drifted down the staircase. She had an almost irresistible urge to climb back up and kiss his smooth jaw. But judging from the heat in his brown eyes, she didn’t dare.

  “You look...” He swallowed. “I don’t even know how to describe how you look, Molly. That dress really...it fits you like...I’ve never seen a dress look as good on anybody as that one does on you.”

  “Thank you.” It was exactly the response she’d hoped for. She’d never felt more beautiful or desirable in her life.

  “Hang on a minute. I’ll walk down with you.” He started toward her.

  “Got your harmonica?”

  He patted his breast pocket. “Right here. Watkins and Trey are good. I’ll have to bring my A game tonight.”

  “From what I heard before, you’ll be fine.” She smiled at him.

  He paused and caught his breath. “Damn, Molly. You’re so...damn.”

  “What?” She pretended not to know what he meant. But she knew, and exulted in a sexual power she’d never claimed before.

  “That dress. It moves when you move. It slides right over your breasts and your sweet little bottom. I don’t—hell, I know it’s unworthy of me, but I don’t want other men to see how great you look.”

  “Too late.” Jack stood at the bottom of the stairs with Josie. “Put your eyes back in your damned head, Radcliffe.” He held out his hand. “Come on, Cousin Molly. Let’s go join the party. You look terrific, by the way.”

  “Thank you.” She walked down the stairs, took his hand and allowed him to steady her for the last few steps.

  “That dress is dynamite,” Josie said.

  “Yours isn’t too shabby, either.” Molly admired the ice-blue, long-sleeved sheath that Josie had accented with silver shoes and jewelry. Instead of her usual braid, she’d created an updo that showed off her slender neck. She was a knockout.

  Jack gave Josie a possessive once-over. “Not shabby at all,” he said softly. “I’m a lucky man.”

  He crooked both arms. “Ladies, make me the envy of every poor slob in the room.”

  “I’m honored, Jack.” Molly looked into eyes that glowed with the pride of his Shoshone ancestors. She might as well make her stand now as later. She knew instinctively that he’d respect her for being direct. “But I’m going to wait for Ben.”

  Jack’s glance flicked from Molly to Ben, who’d remained standing midway down the staircase. “All right.” He held Ben’s gaze. “Don’t forget our conversation.”

  Ben’s voice was steady. “I won’t.”

  Jack and Josie walked into the living room and Molly took a shaky breath. Round One. She thought maybe she’d won it, but time would tell.

  “Thank you.” Ben descended the last few steps and stood before her. “But you didn’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, I did.” She looked into his eyes. “I’m capable of choosing my own...friends. Jack needs to understand that.”

  A smile teased the corners of his mouth. “I’m glad you consider me a friend.”

  “I do.” She longed to touch him. But while they were within sight of the front door where anyone could come in and discover them, being affectionate might not be the best plan. “You may not realize it, but you’ve given me enormous confidence.”

  “You?” He looked surprised. “You were already confident. You didn’t need me for that.”

  “Ah, but you’re wrong.” She lowered her voice. “When you asked me to pirouette for you at the top of the stairs twenty-four hours ago, I wasn’t completely convinced of my sexual power. Thanks to you, now I am.” She stretched out her arms. “Behold the result.”

  He laughed, his eyes sparkling. “So as I struggle to make it through this evening of torture, watching you move through the crowd in that incredible dress, I have only myself to blame?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “In a twisted kind of way, that helps. Shall we go in?”

  “Yes.” She linked her arm through his. “I can hardly wait to hear you play.”

  “Then know this. Every note will be for you.”

  His words ran in a continuous loop in her mind as they walked into the crowded living room. They were the kind of words that could turn a girl’s head. If Ben were a different sort of man, she’d think he’d used them as a seductive line.

  But he didn’t need to spout pretty words to get a woman into bed. He’d already accomplished that with her. She’d spent enough time with him, especially quality time in which emotional barriers had come down, to know that he didn’t say anything he didn’t mean.

  He’d announced from the beginning that he was the wrong man for her, long-term. She still didn’t know all the particulars, but he hadn’t tried to fool her by implying that they could have more than a brief fling. He’d been honest about that from the beginning.

  Jack might not completely trust him, but she did. She really should corner Jack and discuss his dealings with Ben. Jack hadn’t turned in his genealogy homework yet, and that would give her a good excuse to talk with him.

  For right now, though, she was a party girl on the arm of a handsome man as they walked into a kaleidoscope of color and movement. As Molly deposited her wrapped package on the gift table, Ben went to get them both drinks. Before he made it to the temporary bar set up along the far wall, Watkins grabbed him and pulled him into the corner where Trey was setting up their sound system.

  Molly hadn’t thought about the fact that Ben would be needed over there. She’d never attended a function with someone who was part of the evening’s entertainment. Making her way over, she tapped him on the shoulder.

  He turned. “Oh, sorry. I’ll get our drinks in a second. First I need to—”

  “Never mind. You have things to do. Can I bring you something?”

  He grinned. “One of those dark beers would be outstanding.”

  “Got it.
” She wove through the crowd, greeting those she’d already met, like Pam Mulholland, Nick’s aunt and one of Sarah’s best friends. Last Christmas Pam had married Emmett Sterling, the tall, sixty-something ranch foreman standing between her and his daughter Emily. Emily was in line to be foreman after Emmett retired.

  Emily’s husband, Clay Whitaker, director of the stud program at the ranch, arrived loaded down with two bottles of beer and two glasses of wine. “Hey, Molly. Can I get you something from the bar?”

  “Thanks, but I promised Ben I’d fetch his drink, so I need to go there, anyway. By the way, who’s the couple standing by the Christmas tree talking to Jack?”

  “They’re good friends of Jack’s,” Clay said. “Nash and Bethany own the ranch that borders this one.”

  “And Bethany writes self-help books,” Pam added.

  “Right! I remember Aunt Sarah mentioning that.”

  “Except for the ranch hands, they might be the only ones who aren’t somehow part of the extended family,” Pam said. “But apparently Nash and Jack were inseparable in high school, so I think Sarah thinks of him as another son.”

  Molly glanced around at the crowd gathered in the living room. “Such a happy group.”

  “I know.” Pam smiled. “It’s a real tribute to Sarah that everyone’s so eager to help her celebrate her big birthday.”

  “Yes, it is. I’m so glad I made the trip. Anyway, I did promise Ben that drink, so I’d better get going. I’ll catch you all later!”

  But she got sidetracked briefly when she stopped to talk to Regan O’Connelli and his fiancée, Lily King. Regan shared a veterinarian practice with Nick, and he was also Morgan and Tyler’s brother. Lily ran an equine rescue operation on the outskirts of Shoshone.

  Eventually Molly reached the bar. It was so tempting to stop and talk to people. Tonight was a genealogist’s dream. She was finally able to put faces to some of the names on her chart.

  A guy with a buzz cut was tending bar. She’d never seen him before, so she held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Molly, a cousin from Arizona.”

  He smiled and shook her hand. “I’m Steve, a bartender from Spirits and Spurs. I’m absolutely no relation to anybody here, which Josie thought would be a good thing so I can concentrate on the job at hand. What can I get for you?”

 

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