by R. C. Ryan
His two brothers hadn’t bothered with stairs, lowering themselves instead by hanging off the roof and dropping to the ground just feet away.
Sam slapped his brother on the back. “You had me scared, bro. But you knew what you were doing.”
Ben whispered, “The truth? I didn’t have a clue.”
Finn hugged his oldest brother before giving him a fist bump. “You just put a whole new spin on police work, bro. That was either the dumbest thing ever, or absolutely brilliant.”
“Not to mention very brave,” Zachariah said. “You took a huge risk, Benedict.”
“I thought his life was worth it. I hope he proves me right.”
Roscoe and Otis pumped his hand, grinning from ear to ear.
Roscoe studied the flow of blood from the gunshot. “You need help standing, Ben?”
“I’m not sure how much longer I can do it.”
At once, Otis and Roscoe took up positions on either side of him, their arms around his waist.
Mac clamped a hand on Ben’s arm. His words were spoken quietly. “You made me proud, son.”
“That’s what gave me the courage to try it.” Ben looked into his father’s eyes. “I could hear your voice in my head, saying the easy way isn’t always the best. It would have been easy to just fire off a shot and kill that young punk. Especially since he was threatening Rebecca, and that had my blood so hot I could hardly see. But then I thought about his kids and knew they deserved better. And so does he.”
He looked over at Rebecca, being consoled by her weeping parents. He ached to go to her. To hold her. And though he wanted more than anything to carry her away to some secluded spot, he was forced to watch from a distance while the crowd surged around. From the look on Hank Henderson’s face, he wasn’t about to let go of his daughter any time soon.
A team of state police medics rushed over to place Ben on a gurney. Within minutes they had inserted an intravenous line and were heading toward a waiting ambulance, while his family raced to keep up.
As they passed Rebecca and her parents, he asked the medics to pause. Before he could say a word, Hank Henderson turned his back on him, shielding Rebecca from view.
After a moment’s hesitation, Ben told them to move on. He caught the arm of one of the medics. “Miss Henderson needs medical help.”
“Don’t you worry, we’ll see to it right away, if her parents don’t handle it first.”
As they began lifting Ben’s gurney into the ambulance, Ben turned to Finn. “This may take some time. I intend to do whatever I can to see that I keep my word to Ranaldo. I’d like his future resolved by the time his baby is born. Maybe you could use your influence with the court…”
His family watched helplessly as the pain took him down. But even then, as the ambulance left for the clinic, sirens screaming, they could see Ben, still fighting, still trying to take charge as he slipped into blessed unconsciousness.
From the determined look on his face, his family had no doubt he would see his job through to the end. From the time he’d been that angry, wounded boy, he’d always finished what he’d started, no matter what it cost him.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Right this way.” Dr. Clark and his pretty nurse, Jenny Turnbull, met Rebecca and her parents at the door to the clinic and led them to an examining room, where Rebecca was asked to lie on an examining table.
Hank and Susan stood on either side, holding her hands while the doctor probed her bloody wound.
“You’ve become our town’s celebrity,” the doctor said.
Rebecca closed her eyes. “I don’t want to be a celebrity. I’m just relieved this is over.”
The doctor paused. “You can’t stop people from talking. Especially when half the town saw your courage under fire.”
The nurse nodded. “And just so you know, there’s a reporter waiting outside to interview you.”
Rebecca’s only reaction was to groan before lifting a hand to cover her eyes.
“This will sting.” The nurse rubbed the skin with a disinfectant before applying an injection to numb the area.
Within a short time the doctor had stitched the cut and covered the area with gauze. “You’re going to have quite a headache. You’re lucky, after that blow to the head with a gun, that the cut wasn’t worse or that you didn’t suffer a concussion, Rebecca.”
Her father’s command was stern. “I want you to give my daughter a strong sedative to help her through the night.”
Rebecca’s protest was ignored.
“You’re right, Hank.” The doctor looked over at Susan. “I hope Rebecca will be staying with you.”
Susan nodded. “Hank and I wouldn’t think of allowing her to be alone after such an ordeal.”
Before Rebecca could say a word, the doctor nodded in agreement. “That’s good to hear.” He turned to Rebecca. “You’ve been through a difficult trauma. I want you to go straight home with your folks and let the drugs do their job. You need to rest in order to heal.”
He directed his words to Hank and Susan. “If you think your daughter needs any help, there are counselors here who will work with her.”
To Rebecca he added, “The sooner you can put this behind you, the better.”
Hank lifted his cell phone and dialed the hardware store, ordering Eli to bring a truck to the clinic.
“I’m glad you’re taking charge, Hank.” The doctor seemed pleased. “Jenny will give you a list of instructions when you leave. See that your daughter follows them to the letter. I’ll see you back here in a week.”
“Thanks, Doc.” Hank shook the doctor’s hand and he and Susan helped Rebecca from the table before easing her into a wheelchair.
When they reached the entrance to the clinic, they could see the crowd gathered just outside the glass doors.
“Smile.” Jenny handed Susan a printed sheet of instructions on how to care for her daughter’s wound. “You’re about to be on TV.”
As Rebecca was wheeled outside, a pretty young local reporter who had been hastily recruited by a national news service rushed up to them.
She turned so the camera would catch her best side, along with her brilliant smile. “And this is the Haller Creek resident who was being held hostage by an armed gunman.”
The fashionable reporter was in sharp contrast to pale Rebecca, her clothes smeared with dirt and blood, looking as frail as a wounded bird.
“Tell us what you were thinking while you were being held hostage at gunpoint.”
Rebecca blinked against the glare of bright lights. “I don’t remember. It all happened so fast, there was little time to think at all. But once Ben arrived on the scene, I knew everything would be all right.”
The reporter attempted to clarify her statement. “Miss Henderson is referring to Ben Monroe, the town’s deputy sheriff.” She turned to Rebecca. “How would his presence bring comfort? After all, the deputy is new to the job. He hasn’t really been tested until today. And there are some in town who are questioning the way he handled this situation.”
Rebecca’s voice softened. “Ben Monroe is the kind of man you instinctively trust to always do the right thing.”
Her words had many women in the crowd sighing, while their men stood a little taller.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” Rebecca added, “I just want to go home.”
The young reporter doggedly carried on. She thrust the microphone toward Hank. “You had a personal stake in all this, Mr. Henderson. What do you think about the deputy’s actions today?”
Hank’s eyes narrowed in fury. “What do I think? The same as any father whose daughter was in danger of being killed. I expected a man of the law to put my daughter’s safety ahead of some two-bit, big-city punk holding a gun to her head. By setting aside his weapon and trusting that wild-eyed gunman, he risked my daughter’s life. I intend to see that Ben Monroe never wears a badge again.”
“Dad—” Rebecca’s words were abruptly cut off as Hank turned her wheelchair a
way from the crowd and the cameras, the throngs parting as he made his way toward the hardware truck idling at the curb, with Eli behind the wheel.
With Hank and Susan on either side of her, Rebecca was eased into the backseat, and the truck left in a cloud of dust, while the curious crowd began to speculate on what would happen next in their once sleepy little town.
Virgil and a throng of state police officers were huddled in his office. When Ben arrived, his torso beneath his torn, bloody uniform swathed in dressings, a sudden silence descended.
Virgil cleared his throat. “Chief Archer and I were just discussing a few things, Ben.”
The state police chief’s eyes narrowed. “What you did, setting aside your weapon, goes against a lawman’s training. Why would you even consider relinquishing your weapon while a criminal was holding an innocent woman hostage at gunpoint?”
Ben’s words were measured. “I thought about taking him out with a single shot between his eyes. It would have been a risk. He could have reacted quickly enough to kill his hostage. Knowing what I did about him, and seeing that he was more scared than angry, I decided to go with my instincts and see if he couldn’t be persuaded to end things peacefully, so he could get a second chance. I’ve been raised to believe in karma. The good you do in life comes back to you.”
“Karma.” The chief’s face was blank, but his tone of voice revealed his skepticism.
“Well, now.” Virgil managed a shaky smile. “Ben, your brother Finn was already here while you were being patched up, offering to represent Ranaldo Rider.”
Ben shot him a grin. “Finn doesn’t let any grass grow under his feet.”
“Neither do you, son.” Virgil was working overtime to smooth things, while the state police chief fumed. “You’ve been through a tough day. I’m sure that bullet wound is going to cause you a lot of pain. Until the official investigation is complete, it’s standard operating procedure that you can’t return to your duties, so you’re on paid leave until you’re certified. Why don’t you head on home?”
Ben stood his ground. “And Ranaldo?”
“Chief Archer and his men will handle the details of jurisdiction of the prisoner and his transportation. He’s in good hands.”
“I gave him my word he’d be treated with respect.”
The chief’s voice was pure ice. “He’ll be treated no better or worse than any other prisoner.”
“Thank you, Chief.” Ben turned to leave.
“Deputy.” Chief Archer put a hand on his arm as he turned away. “What were you thinking out there?”
Ben looked from the state police chief to Sheriff Virgil Kerr. “I know what I did was unorthodox and not at all what I’d been taught. But I had to go with my gut feelings. I believe Ranaldo Rider was running scared, and what he really wanted was someone to save him from himself. Does that make any sense?”
While Virgil Kerr fell silent, the state police chief said what all of them were thinking. “You got lucky, Deputy. You took a big risk, with a hostage’s life on the line. Of course, if it had all gone wrong, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d be stripped of your badge and branded as an incompetent rookie.”
Virgil put a hand on Ben’s arm. “I want you to know I was proud of you, Ben. What you did out there took real courage.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Ben was surprised when the other state officers stepped up to shake his hand or give him a fist bump while congratulating him on having the entire incident end without death.
Virgil was all smiles until dispatcher Jeanette Moak rushed in and pointed to the television on the wall.
Turning up the volume, they all watched in silence as Rebecca and her parents were being interviewed.
Ben’s gaze was riveted on Rebecca, pale and silent, a patch of gauze covering the wound to her temple, the front of her shirt still bearing the bloodstains. The very sight of her had his heart aching.
And then the camera shifted to her father as he vented his anger.
“What do I think? The same as any father whose daughter was in danger of being killed. I expected a man of the law to put my daughter’s safety ahead of some two-bit, big-city punk holding a gun to her head. By setting aside his weapon and trusting that wild-eyed gunman, he risked my daughter’s life. I intend to see that Ben Monroe never wears a badge again.”
The room filled with lawmen had gone eerily silent.
The sheriff was the first to speak. “You know Hank Henderson. Always spouting off about something. When he cools off, he’ll regret his public statement.”
The state police chief shook his head. “Never underestimate the fury of a father who feels his child was mistreated. This could end up being an ugly scar on your town, Sheriff.”
“I know.” Virgil laid a hand on Ben’s arm. “This isn’t the first time Hank has accused you of something he had to recant later.”
Ben’s mind returned to the time he’d rescued Becca from R.C. Mason’s assault, only to have Hank Henderson accuse him of the very thing R.C. had done. Ben had been forced to cool his heels in jail for hours until the misunderstanding had been cleared up.
Virgil’s eyes narrowed. “Apparently Hank hasn’t learned anything from his mistakes. Here he is, flinging wild-eyed accusations again. And this time, in an even more public forum.” Virgil squeezed Ben’s arm. “Despite what Hank thinks or does, I’ll stand with you, son.”
“Thank you.” Ben turned away and stepped out of the sheriff’s office before making his way to his truck idling at the curb, his brothers inside.
While he settled himself in the backseat, he thought about Becca, so pale and wounded. He longed to go to her. To comfort her. To just hold her.
“Turn on Maple.”
Sam did as he asked.
They drove past Rebecca’s house. There were no lights on inside. No sign of life.
“Drive to Becca’s parents’ house.”
They drove slowly.
The lights were on in her old bedroom.
Ben sighed. “I’m sure Hank and Susan will see to it she stays the night.”
His brothers nodded.
“She’ll need them to ease her pain, and to see to it that she’s shielded from the public while she heals. I know she’ll see it as an admission of weakness, but her parents are right to take their daughter home with them.”
Sam muttered, “She didn’t seem inclined to run to them when this was going down. Seems to me she’d rather be staying with you.”
Ben’s silence dragged on until he suddenly said, “Stop here.”
At Ben’s words, Sam and Finn exchanged knowing looks.
Sam studied Ben in the rearview mirror. “By now everybody in town knows what Hank Henderson thinks about the way you handled this. He won’t be happy to see you, bro.”
“I know. Open the door.”
Ben stepped out, wishing he’d taken the bigger dose of the pain meds the medic had suggested. His entire body was throbbing, and he felt sick to his stomach. Despite the pain, he needed to see Becca, just for a moment, to assure himself that she was all right.
At his knock a porch light came on, and Susan peered out before opening the door.
“Mrs. Henderson.” Ben held his hat in his hand. “How is Becca?”
“She’s…”
Susan was forcibly moved aside and Hank stood scowling at Ben. “How dare you come here? You’re not welcome in my home, Monroe.”
“I won’t stay long. I just want to see for myself that Becca is all right.”
“Her welfare didn’t matter to you earlier today.” Hank barred his way. “Now I’ll say this just one time. Get off my property, Monroe. Or I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”
“I’d like to see Becca.”
“What you’d like doesn’t matter. What I’d like is to see you barred from ever wearing that badge again.”
The door was slammed, the lock turned, the porch light extinguished.
The two brothers in th
e front seat kept an eye on Ben as they traveled the distance to their ranch.
Ben’s emotions wavered between simmering anger at Hank Henderson and worry over Becca.
The music on the truck radio, lamenting long-lost love, mocked him until he ordered Finn to turn it off.
The sudden silence seemed even louder.
Ben was reminded of how much he’d come to love the sound of Becca’s voice. Her throaty laughter. And all the little things about her. Her touch. The clean, fresh scent of her. The way her eyes lit with pleasure whenever she looked at him.
Their lovemaking.
And then the doubts began to creep into his mind.
Was Hank Henderson right?
Had he spent too much time worrying about the fate of Ranaldo Rider, at the expense of Becca’s safety?
Had he actually risked her life in order to rescue a lost soul?
As he continued the long ride to the ranch, the litany of questions and accusations taunted him until he could feel his confidence sink to a low ebb.
His poor heart sank even lower with every mile.
He hadn’t felt this low since he was that twelve-year-old kid determined to escape a life of despair no matter what it cost him, only to find himself leading his two trusting little brothers into a raging Montana blizzard.
What kind of fool was he to think he could be entrusted with the safety of anyone?
He’d almost cost the life of the only woman he would ever love.
And maybe now, after what he’d put her through, she would come to the same conclusion as her father. And who would blame her?
Chapter Twenty-nine
Ben had napped badly, his thoughts as dark as the sky outside his window. He took his time descending the stairs, to find his family and Mary Pat gathered around the fireplace in the parlor, talking in low tones. The minute they saw him they fell silent.
He could tell, by the looks on their faces, they’d been engaged in a serious conversation. “I guess the TV networks have been replaying Hank’s television interview.”