by Linda Bridey
Joe frowned. He hated it when Randall called him that. Lying down on the sofa, Joe asked him, “What is it I do all day, exactly?”
Now Randall frowned. “I don’t follow, sir.”
“I’ll rephrase the question,” Joe said. “How much time out of my day do you think I spend gambling on things? Be honest, Randy.”
Randall gave it careful consideration and didn’t answer Joe for several minutes. Joe didn’t mind. He’d rather a thoughtful, intelligent answer than a fast, stupid one.
Randall asked, “You want to know how many hours, sir?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
Randall went back to puzzling out the answer. He uncrossed and re-crossed his legs twice before saying, “Using probability calculations and a knowledge of your usual schedule, I would estimate at least eight.”
Joe sat up and swung his legs over the side of the sofa. His hazel eyes were wide with disbelief. “Eight hours? I spend that much time gambling?”
Randall said, “Give or take an hour to allow for inaccuracies, but yes. In that general area, I believe.”
Joe got up and began to pace back and forth in a way that told Randall that Joe was seriously agitated.
“Joe, what is it?” Randall said.
Joe told him about the bet he’d made with Ben. “I spend a huge part of the day betting. That’s a sad thing, Randy. How is that possible?”
“May I speak frankly, sir?”
“Of course.”
“Because you bet on everything, and I am not exaggerating. You even bet on what color tie George Levine will be wearing on nights when you have town council meetings,” Randall said.
Joe stopped and looked Randall in the eyes. “I do, don’t I? I’ve even got a bet going with Dean about what color tie he’ll be wearing for the funeral when he does finally croak.”
Randall couldn’t help the fleeting smile that crossed his face at that remark.
Joe laughed but sobered quickly. “Do you know how much time that is to waste? I need something else to do, Randy.” He sat down again on the sofa. “I don’t have enough to do to keep me busy. That’s why I gamble. I’m bored, Randy, so I gamble to fill the time.”
Randall nodded. “That sounds plausible, even probable.”
“I can’t gamble until next week. What am I going to do with myself? It’s a slow week because of the holiday, but even when we are busier, I’ve got all kinds of people doing the work for me. That’s what I pay them for. To do the work so I don’t have to,” Joe said.
Randall didn’t say anything. He’d known Joe since he was nineteen and he knew when Joe was talking to him or to himself.
Joe looked at Randall again and said, “I need a job, Randy! That’s what I need. There’s something I never thought I’d say.”
Randall cocked his head at Joe and said, “You have one, sir.”
“What’s that?” Joe said.
“Joe, you are the mayor of Dawson. That is your job. I’m sure there are matters that could use your attention instead of your money,” Randall said. “Things to improve the town, issues to resolve that might need more than the time a council meeting takes to deal with them.”
Dumbfounded, Joe stared at Randall, and then a smile spread over his chiseled features. “Hot damn, Randy! You’re a genius! It’s time I stop playing mayor and start being mayor. Is that what you’re drivin’ at?”
“It is, indeed, sir,” Randall said.
Joe got up, kissed Randall’s head and said, “You are not allowed to ever die, because I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Then he slipped money into Randall’s jacket pocket and patted it. Going over to the door, Joe put his hat on and exited the house.
Randall grinned as he pulled the money out to see how much Joe had given him this time. The hundred was very generous. He went over to the coat rack by the door, took Joe’s from it, and went to stand by the door. Almost as if on cue, Joe opened the door, said, “Damn, it’s cold out. Thanks, Randy,” took the coat and left again.
Sasha began thinking about something as she followed Ben from the camp out to the main road. In her mind’s eye she saw how tender and sweet Ben had been with the children. He’d also been kind and respectful to the women. But when Raven had come after him, he’d become violent in an instant.
It had happened so fast that at first she had been so startled that it didn’t really register with her until now. How did a doctor who did so much good, also hurt people? And he had hurt Raven. The young man hadn’t been able to breathe properly, if only briefly, after Ben hit him. How had Ben known where to hit or who he was hitting? What if it had been a woman or one of the children?
She thought about the fierceness, the restrained power in Ben, and wondered where it came from. The two sides of Ben intrigued her. How did they exist together inside of one man? She intended to find out.
When they arrived at the main road, Ben pulled his horse back to ride beside her. “What did you think of the camp?” he asked her.
Sasha smiled. “The children are adorable, especially Brown Otter.”
“Yes, he is. Are you still afraid of going there now that you’ve seen what it’s like?” Ben asked. It was important to him that she be comfortable with the Lakota.
“No, I’m not afraid now. There was no one who did more than look at me. Some smiled and Wind Spirit even tried to keep me out of the way when you and Raven scuffled,” Sasha said.
Ben smiled. “Thank you for tipping me off, by the way. If you hadn’t, it would have been me on the ground instead of him.”
Sasha frowned. “About that; how did you know where to aim? It could have been anyone coming up behind you.”
“See, those Lakota boys like to play games. Wrestling matches, especially. Once they know you, they’ll get you any chance they can, so it is always best if you can strike first. They’re the only ones who do that sort of thing to me. You’ll see what I mean when we go to the Watering Hole. Reckless is always getting me or Sammi that way,” Ben said with a laugh.
Sasha gave him a startled look. She knew that Sammi worked there as a bouncer, but to hear that she would be subjected to this kind of treatment was shocking to her. “He goes after Sammi in such a fashion?”
“Yes, ma’am. Sammi doesn’t want any special treatment because she’s a woman. Frankly, she doesn’t need any, either,” Ben said. “I spar with her on a regular basis and believe me, there are times neither of us win and we have to call a draw.”
“Is that so?” Sasha said. She couldn’t fathom such a thing.
Ben saw her mind working on that. “I’ll tell you what; it would be a pleasure for me to make dinner for you. We could dine and then go downstairs for some entertainment.”
Sasha thought that it would certainly be something new. After living such a boring, uneventful life with Ken, she could stand some adventure. “Yes, I would like that very much,” she said, and sent him a smile.
“Good.” Ben rode closer and took her hand. “I have a few questions for you. If they are too personal, simply tell me and I’ll not continue asking them.”
Sasha nodded. “All right.”
“They are about your late husband,” Ben said, and looked at her to gauge her reaction.
Sasha nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Last evening you said that your marriage was mostly in name only,” Ben said. “How soon after you married did that start?”
“A little over a year,” Sasha said. She didn’t want to answer his questions, but felt that he deserved honesty from her. It was embarrassing to have to admit that her husband hadn’t wanted anything to do with her. The man who had promised to love and cherish her had done neither.
Ben nodded. “And how long were you married?”
Sasha swallowed and said, “Six years.”
Ben inhaled sharply, but that was the only outward reaction he made to what she’d said. Six years she had been married, five of those spent without affection, without appreciation, without respect. Ben coul
d feel his nostrils flare as these thoughts created a cold anger inside him. That a man could trap a woman in a loveless marriage was a horrible thing. It was one of the things he didn’t miss about high society. He knew such things happened in any society, but in his former circles, it happened frequently. Marriages were often no more than business dealings.
For a long time, it had skewed his view on marriage, and it wasn’t something he’d been ready for until the last few years. He wondered if it was because Dawson was a family oriented community where most of the marriages he saw were based on love and not monetary gain. Thinking about his twin sister Rebecca’s happy marriage to Jake made him realize that it was possible to find that kind of happiness.
When he’d met Abby Bradbury, he’d seen a glimpse of that kind of joy, but it wasn’t meant to be. He was not the man for Abby, and he’d realized that after he’d gone off to medical school. Before leaving, he’d asked if she would write him and Abby had agreed. Abby’s letters were a dizzying hodgepodge of questions and tidbits about the happenings around Dawson and he’d gained a new admiration for her husband, Elliot, that he was able to decipher the woman that was Abby. The better man truly had won in that case.
Ben squeezed Sasha’s hand a little as he vowed to make her feel valued as a person and desired as a woman. For he did desire her. Ben was a sensual person by nature, and he knew that had she not stopped him the previous night, he would have made love to her. Though he had been raised with the idea of no sex before marriage, like many men of his station, he could get away with dalliances, and he’d had his fair share of them.
Widely known as a rake in his former social circles, Ben’s actions had been considered scandalous, but privately condoned by the “boys will be boys” mode of thinking. Ben was of the minority opinion that if both parties were willing there was no shame in indulging in passion. As he looked over at Sasha and smiled, he wondered how she felt about that. As a gentleman, he would abide by her wishes and let it up to her to decide.
“Sasha, did he ever say why he didn’t want…intimacy?” he asked at length.
Sasha sighed. “No. The only thing he said was that marriage didn’t mean that a couple had to be intimate like that. It was clear that he was not interested and I didn’t press for more answers. It was too humiliating as it was. I simply started living my own life, although it was a rather tedious existence.”
Her statement told Ben that she’d had far too little fun in her life and could stand a change of pace. The Watering Hole would certainly provide that for her.
Sasha saw a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he said, “Well, Ms. McCall, your life will no longer be tedious. I shall see to that.”
She laughed and squeezed his hand back. They rode most of the way back to town holding hands, sometimes talking, and sometimes just enjoying each other’s presence. Sasha thought it was as nice a time as she’d had with Ben at dinner. It was more intimate and relaxing.
Just before entering the town limits, Ben pulled his horse almost against hers and captured her mouth in searing kiss that left them both wanting more. Then he smiled at her and they rode on again, parting at the square.
Chapter Eight
When Sasha knocked at seven that evening, Ben opened the door to his apartment. His breath caught at the sight of her. She was so beautiful and he wanted to kiss her right then.
“Good evening, Sasha. Please come in,” Ben said.
“Thank you, Ben,” Sasha said as she stepped over the threshold and began looking around.
Ben asked, “May I take your coat?”
“Yes, thank you,” Sasha said.
Her coat might be worn for function, but the gray satin dress underneath it was anything but. Ben hung her coat up and came to stand in front of her. The dress showed off her hourglass figure to perfection and revealed a tantalizing amount of cleavage. Ben tried not to look at her chest too much, but it was difficult.
“You look lovely,” Ben said.
Sasha blushed at the compliment. “Thank you,” she said, taking in the way his black suit fit his wide shoulders perfectly. “And you look quite handsome.”
He smiled and said, “Come with me.”
Sasha started looking at the apartment more closely and stopped walking as she took in the opulence before her. Brocade drapes, rich wall colors and warm wood accents met her gaze. Her eyes travelled over the furniture, which was beautiful. Expensive Persian rugs covered gleaming wooden floors of walnut.
Ben smiled as he watched her look at everything. “It’s impressive, isn’t it?”
Sasha glanced at him and said, “It’s as nicely appointed as many houses I’ve seen, Ben.”
“It’s my payment for being at the beck and call of the Watering Hole in case there is a medical emergency of some sort. I tried to explain to Joe that he had already done enough for me, but he said that it was Jake’s decision and not his,” Ben told her. “Come have a glass of wine and I’ll give you the full tour while dinner finishes.”
Sasha followed him to the kitchen, where a bottle of wine sat chilling in a sterling silver ice bucket on a small table. Ben expertly opened the wine and poured the fine Merlot into a Bordeaux glass and savored the bouquet.
“Mmm. Jake has impeccable taste in fine wines and liquors,” Ben said as he poured a small amount in a glass for Sasha and handed it to her.
Their fingers touched, and Sasha’s eyes found Ben’s as a tiny jolt of awareness shot through her. Ben’s eyes had darkened the smallest bit, indicating that he felt the same thing she did. He raised his glass a little and said, “A toast. Here’s to saying goodbye to the past and embarking on a new, wonderful life.”
Sasha smiled and said, “Hear, hear.”
They touched their glasses together and took sips of their wine. The rich, fruity flavor with a hint of chocolate filled Sasha’s mouth with sublime flavor and she said, “Mmm. That’s splendid.”
“Yes, it is,” Ben said, and proceeded to show her the rest of the three bedroom apartment. It was a spacious, warm apartment complete with a den in which Ben could work. Evidence that he did so was visible in the stack of charts and other folders on his desk.
With the tour complete, Ben led her back into the kitchen, which was filled with delectable aromas.
“Whatever it is you have prepared, it smells wonderful,” Sasha said as she came to stand beside him.
Ben looked down at her and said, “While I was in Chicago, I fell in love with Italian cuisine, but there was this one little place that Marcus had told me about named Carrini’s. Their food is divine. I coaxed a lovely young lady into giving me their recipe for chicken parmesan along with their excellent garlic bread.”
“I’m sure it didn’t take much coaxing at all. One look of those green eyes of yours would do the trick, I’m sure,” Sasha teased him.
“So am I to take it that you like my eyes?” Ben asked with a raised eyebrow.
Sasha wished she could take back her words as a flush crept over her. But she couldn’t deny the effect his eyes had on her. “Yes. Very much.”
Ben said, “Thank you. Your beautiful gray eyes have haunted me ever since we met.”
Sasha’s eyes widened. “They have?”
“Yes, madam, they have. They are quite alluring, I daresay,” Ben said. He cocked his head at her a little and said, “I can’t believe that no one has ever told you what remarkable eyes you have.”
Sasha took a sip of wine and said, “Once when I was a young woman there was a boy who told me that, but he was the only one until now.” It was hard for her to meet his gaze.
Ben again felt that cold anger inside at a man who was now dead. If the man weren’t dead, Ben would have dealt with the man himself. Then he realized that if Ken McCall were still alive, he wouldn’t be here with Sasha. She would still be in Nebraska, miserable and lonely. That slightly cruel part of Ben was glad that the man had expired, for he didn’t deserve a woman like Sasha.
He reached over and put a finger
under Sasha’s chin. He tipped it up until he could look into those remarkable dove gray depths and said, “You are a desirable, beautiful woman, Sasha, who deserves to be cherished and loved by someone who can appreciate you. Don’t ever forget that.”
Sasha half blinked as tears threatened. Her smile was slightly tremulous as she said, “That’s the nicest thing a man has ever said to me.”
“I mean every word,” Ben said.
She smiled at him again and then Ben dropped his hand from her chin. Every instinct within him told him to kiss her, but he sensed that it was not quite the right time.
He motioned to a chair at the table and said, “I hope you don’t mind if we dine in the kitchen. It’s much more intimate than two people eating in that big dining room.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Sasha said. The idea of sitting close to Ben while they ate greatly appealed to her.
Ben pulled out her chair and helped seat her. “Excellent. Now, I want you to sit and relax while I finish things. More wine?”
“Yes, please,” Sasha said.
He poured with flair and then took off his suit jacket. Going to the stove, Ben put on an apron and Sasha smiled at the sight of the suave Dr. Walker in a cook’s apron. Without his suit jacket on, Sasha could see the way his white shirt strained over his back when he bent to take something from the oven.
Images of his bare, powerful arms came to her and suddenly the kitchen was very warm. Ben finished cooking the spaghetti, making sure it was al dente and not mushy. The garlic bread was ready to come out as well. He made their plates and took them over to the table.
Sitting them down, he asked, “Would you like more cheese?”
Sasha said, “Yes. It looks scrumptious, Ben.”
“Thank you.” Ben brought over a grater and a block of parmesan cheese and shaved some on top of her food. Then he put the garlic bread in a basket and sat it on the table.
Going over to a drawer in a buffet that stood against a wall in the kitchen, Ben retrieved large, colorful cloth napkins. He handed one to Sasha and said, “You’re going to need one of these. It’s best to tuck it in at the neck to avoid staining your clothes.” So saying, he sat down and took off his tie. Then Ben undid the top two buttons of his shirt, folded a corner of the napkin down inside of his shirt, and spread the rest of it across the front of it.