by Karen Kirst
“And you enjoy your job, despite its many challenges.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you choose it?” she asked curiously. “Was your father in law enforcement?”
Polishing off the empanada, he rested his hip against the counter. “Both my father and my uncle started out in this line of work, but my father suffered a leg injury early on. He was chasing a suspect through the countryside and his horse went down, landing on his leg. He lay there for hours before someone finally found him.” Taking note of her shocked expression, he went on. “At that time, I was their only child. My mother was scared out of her wits. She worried that the job would end my father’s life before he’d had a chance to raise his only son.” He shrugged. “Her fears, coupled with the fact the accident had left him with a bad limp, prompted him to switch careers.”
“What did he wind up doing?”
“He’s the county clerk.”
“And your uncle? Is he a deputy like you?”
“Uncle Dwight is our town’s sheriff.” The affection he felt for his father’s brother colored his tone. They exchanged frequent letters, keeping each other updated on work cases and life in general. “I had the great honor of working with him before I decided to move.”
“You miss him.”
“He’s one of the best. Fair in his dealings. Intent on justice, but compassionate, too. He’s the reason I got into law enforcement. Ma balked, of course, having never forgotten Pa’s accident and his long recuperation.”
She studied him. “He convinced her of the wisdom of letting you make your own choices?”
He smiled, remembering the heated discussions around their dinner table. “It took time—months, actually—but he finally wore her down.”
“You clearly loved working alongside your uncle. Why leave?”
His smiled faded. “In the face of an untenable situation, I did what I thought was best.”
Her brow creased in contemplation. Then a burst of insight. “The scandal you spoke of had something to do with it, doesn’t it? But why would your flirting affect his career?”
Frustration welled in his chest. Would she ever see him as a man of depth and substance? Or would her poor view of men continue to color her opinion?
Pushing off the counter, he paced to the opposite side of the room. “My so-called flirting had no bearing on my resignation. None.”
The abrupt end of his engagement had been the impetus for his ultimate departure. The only daughter of Mayor Augustus Ogden, Marianne had her pa wrapped around her finger. Mrs. Ogden had died when Marianne was an infant, so for years it had been Augustus and his daughter against the world. Because she’d promised not to breathe a word of Ben’s condition, she’d led the mayor to believe his heart was fickle. Augustus had been outraged on her behalf. No one cast aside his precious Marianne and got away with it.
He’d launched a subtle but dangerous campaign against Ben, turning prominent town leaders against him. His family had suffered the sting of judgment. When his uncle’s reputation began to suffer, Ben made the difficult decision to seek work elsewhere.
“So what happened?”
“Let’s just say I angered the wrong people. The mayor, to be exact. My uncle got caught up in the scandal, unfortunately. I couldn’t be responsible for his career imploding, so I left.”
She clearly wasn’t satisfied by his vague explanation but didn’t fish for details. “And you started working here, with Shane.”
“Not at first. I accepted a position in the northern part of Georgia, working with Sheriff Isaiah Moser. I was there for eighteen months. Then Uncle Dwight wrote to me about an open position here. He’d struck up a friendship with Shane before he became sheriff of Gatlinburg. I came to meet Shane and the rest is, as they say, history.”
“You were forced to leave your home because someone decided to make trouble. How is it that you’re not battling bitterness on a daily basis?”
“Oh, I wrestled with it for a long time. I was angry at the situation. Angry at God for allowing it. I felt cheated.”
She slid her hand over her hair and along her braid, toying with the ends. “I’m acquainted with the feeling.”
“But then I woke up one day tired of being angry. I began to focus on my blessings. Was this my desired future? Absolutely not. Not at first, anyway. But I had a boss whom I respected and enjoyed working for. I had a new community that embraced me. A fresh start, if you will.” He flicked his fingers toward the window and the picturesque mountains. “And of course, living here isn’t exactly a burden, is it?”
Lost in thought, Isabel picked up the empanada dish and carried it into the main room. Laughter could be heard in the girls’ bedroom.
Ben stood behind his usual chair. “I don’t blame you for being angry at your father. Because of him, you were cheated out of an ordinary childhood.”
Her dark eyes flashed defiance. “I’m still paying for his mistakes.”
“Being gossiped about isn’t pleasant, but you’re a strong woman. You’ve proved you can withstand the whispers and narrow-minded prejudices. You’ve flourished despite rough beginnings.”
“You sound like Honor.” Isabel’s knuckles went white where she gripped the dish. “You’re suggesting I forgive and forget.”
“What has holding on to the past gotten you, Isa?”
Emotions marched across her face. Her throat worked. “I—”
A crash in the bedroom made the floorboards quiver. There was span of stunned quiet, followed by a panicked wail.
Isabel blanched. “Eli!”
* * *
Heart thundering, Ben rushed into the bedroom a step behind Isabel.
“What happened?” she demanded, falling to her knees on the rug. “Where does it hurt?”
His face leached of color, Eli pointed to his ankle. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks. His breathing came in spurts.
Carmen wrung her hands. “He was standing on the bed and waving a pretend sword around, talking about gumdrops or something. I didn’t know he was going to jump.”
Honor consoled her with a sisterly pat. “It’s my fault, too. We shouldn’t have allowed him to stand on the bed.”
Ben crouched beside Isabel. “Can you show us exactly where it hurts, little man?”
His crying hitched. He pointed to the spot. The misery in his baby blues tugged at Ben’s heartstrings. In his profession, he regularly encountered various mishaps and calamities. It was bad enough when adults got hurt, but defenseless children were a whole other level of nightmare. And sweet, bashful Eli... Ben had a personal investment in the kid.
Isabel shifted his riotous curls out of his eyes. “I’m going to roll your stocking off, okay?”
His reaction was one of immediate worry.
“I promise I’ll be gentle.”
Ben lifted his gaze to Carmen, who was shifting her weight from one foot to another and looking as if she might be ill. “We may need some damp cloths. Would you mind?”
Her eyes big in her face, she nodded. “Of course.”
She swept out of the room. Honor joined her.
Ben held his breath as Isabel removed the stocking. When Eli whimpered, Ben cupped his shoulder. “Did you know Miss Isabel has patched me up before?”
The boy shook his head. His crying had all but ceased, leaving his face wet with tears. Ben fished his handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed the moisture away.
“I injured my arm,” he told him. “And she took excellent care of me. I promise she’ll make you feel better, too.”
“How did you get hurt?” Eli ventured.
Still cradling Eli’s foot, Isabel shot Ben a look that said he shouldn’t have brought up this particular subject.
“Well, I was working. You know my job is to protect peo
ple.” He searched for an appropriate response. “I was helping keep someone safe.”
He sensed Isabel’s regard and was stunned to see something akin to admiration there.
“Ben was very brave, Eli,” she said, her gaze unwavering. “I’m convinced you can be just as brave.”
“Like the gingerbread soldiers?”
A bubble of laughter burst out of her, and she returned her attention to her patient. “Yes, like them.” She indicated his ankle. “Ben, what do you think?”
He bent close. “Looks a bit swollen to me.”
“And I detect the beginnings of a bruise. It’s going to be a day of rest for you, sweetie. If it swells any more, we’ll fetch the doctor.”
His mouth hung open in horror. “But the snow! We were going to play. Even Mr. Ben!” Eli’s small hand clasped Ben’s. “Don’t you wanna build snow soldiers with me?”
Ben could well understand the boy’s disappointment. The promise of a grand snow adventure had been snatched from him.
“I do, Eli. Very much. But Isabel’s right. You shouldn’t put weight on that ankle. It’d be painful, and you could aggravate the injury.”
Isabel’s brows tugged together. “How about I fix you some hot cocoa to accompany breakfast?”
Eli shrugged, his gaze downcast. She cast a helpless look at Ben.
“I have an idea,” he blurted, pushing to his feet. “You can’t go outside to play in the snow, but no one said the snow couldn’t come to you.” Reaching down, he swung Eli into his arms and carried him to the sofa. Honor and Carmen emerged from the kitchen.
To Isabel, he said, “Where’s that copper basin?”
“The one we use for bathing?”
“That’s the one.”
She propped a pillow beneath Eli’s injured foot. “In the shed.”
Honor moved to stand behind the sofa. “We have a smaller one that will work to soak his foot.”
“I don’t need it for that.” Going to the coat stand, he donned his outer gear. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Quickly locating the basin, he carried it close to the cabin and, using a bucket, scooped mounds of snow inside. When Ben maneuvered the heavy basin into the cabin and situated it in front of the sofa, Eli’s jaw hit his chest. His delight brightened his entire being, making Ben glad he’d had the idea.
“Now we can still make those soldiers, but on a smaller scale. We’ll have to be careful not to make wet tracks all over the floor, though.”
Eli’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “Okay.”
Ben caught Isabel’s gaze. “I promise to clean up the mess.”
“Thank you, Ben. I never would’ve thought to do something like this. You’re great with children.”
Long-suppressed yearning for a wife and kids broke forth, stunning in its intensity. He struggled to contain it.
Carmen nodded vigorously. “I agree. You should think of settling down and starting a family.”
Honor didn’t reprimand her this time. “You’ve made it plain you’re as committed to bachelorhood as Isa is to remaining a spinster. Don’t you want children?”
“Cozy family life isn’t for me.” He kept his gaze trained on his boots. If he looked at Isabel, she’d know his words didn’t ring true. “I’m better off alone.”
“Mr. Ben, let’s play.” Eli reached out and tested the wet powder.
“Good idea.” He crouched before the basin. “The heat from the fire will soon melt it.”
Grateful the girls let the subject drop, he focused on sculpting his snow figures.
* * *
Ben hadn’t been forthcoming. Later that evening, as she hefted a pot of fragrant beef stew to the table, Isabel continued to ponder the puzzle he presented. He clearly enjoyed spending time with Eli. He’d gone out of his way to cheer him, going so far as to refill the basin with fresh snow twice so they could continue their play. The busy lawman surely had work to do—he’d spent scant time in his office these past few days. But he hadn’t uttered one word of complaint, hadn’t acted like being with them was a burden.
So why claim he wasn’t fit for family life? The more she got to know the man behind the facade, the more Isabel was convinced he was deliberately being evasive regarding his reasons for being single. He’d admitted his parents shared a strong bond, and he spoke of his sisters with fondness. What was he hiding, then?
Honor started to place a fifth bowl on the table. Isabel put out a hand. “Ben’s not joining us, remember?”
“Oh, I forgot.” She wore an unhappy frown. “He’s dining with Veronica Patton this evening.”
The sharp stab of jealousy was unexpected. The thought of the beautiful, poised blonde with Ben evoked deep-seated denial. Why would the notion of them together trouble her to this extent? She didn’t want him for herself.
Are you sure about that?
Of course she didn’t. But she also knew that Veronica wasn’t a good fit for him.
“He should be here with us.” Carmen bustled in bearing utensils and cloth napkins.
Honor nodded. “I’ve gotten used to having him around.”
Isabel grappled to regain her scattered common sense. “We all have to keep in mind that Ben’s time with us is temporary.” She cast a glance at Eli, who was propped up by pillows and engrossed with his toy horse. “He’s got a busy social calendar that I’m sure he’s anxious to get back to.”
Chapter Fourteen
Ben accepted the pie his hostess pressed upon him and ate without tasting. He shouldn’t be here. He should be in the cabin across town, sitting down to good food and conversation at the Flores sisters’ table.
“Thank you for the meal, Patricia.” He’d dined with the Pattons enough times that Veronica’s mother had insisted on dispensing with the formalities.
“You know you’re always welcome, Ben.” Pausing in her clearing of the table, she fiddled with the pearls around her neck. “We were wondering if you’d made any Christmas plans.”
Across from Ben, Veronica picked at her dessert without eating. She’d acted annoyed the entire evening. When she didn’t add to the conversation, her mother gave him a strained smile.
“Veronica and I were discussing the sheriff’s trip to Norfolk, and we realized you might not have a place to go. We wouldn’t want you to be alone.”
“Oh, he hasn’t been alone, have you?” Veronica’s blue gaze speared him.
“You haven’t been at the jail much this past week.” Seated at the head of the table, Silas Patton took a long draw on his pipe and eyed Ben over the rims of his spectacles.
“Even when Shane’s in town, I tend to avoid long stretches at the jail. I prefer to make regular passes through town, stay informed on recent developments.”
“But you haven’t been making rounds,” Veronica challenged, her chin at a militant angle. “You’ve been preoccupied with that orphan boy and spending an awful lot of time at the Flores farm.”
Patricia resumed her seat and, smoothing her napkin in her lap, reached for her coffee. “I heard Isabel is thinking of adopting him.”
Veronica scowled. “Bad idea, if you ask me.”
Ben lowered his fork to his plate. “Why would you say that?”
“Must I list the reasons?”
Silas exhaled a line of piquant smoke. “No need, dear daughter. They’re quite obvious. I’m sure the girl’s aware of the difficulties, but she has no marriage prospects on the horizon. Thus, no children. She’s desperate.”
Ben tamped down his flare of temper. “Isabel is aware of the challenges. She cares about Eli, however, and is willing and able to overcome any obstacle that may arise.”
Mother and daughter shared a significant glance, but then Veronica banished the annoyance from her face. “Let’s not waste o
ur evening talking of Isabel Flores and plans that don’t concern us. I thought you’d like to know I’ve purchased a dress for the McKennas’ Christmas party. It’s a shade somewhere between periwinkle and blueberry.”
“It certainly brings out your eyes, dear,” Patricia inserted. “Just wait until you see her in it, Ben. You’ll be scraping your jaw off the floor.”
Veronica preened. “If you don’t already have a shirt and vest to match, I’m sure Quinn can locate them for you.”
“I don’t follow.”
“You’re not the only one.” Silas chuckled. “These females and their fashion. I’m happy if I walk out the door in matching socks.”
“We’ll want our outfits to coordinate, of course,” Veronica told him impatiently. “Don’t you remember we talked about this?”
“I don’t recall discussing attending together, much less wearing matching clothing.”
Hot color bloomed in her cheeks. “It seems your memory has been faulty of late, Deputy.”
“I apologize. I have had a lot on my mind.”
Veronica tossed her napkin atop her plate and abruptly stood. “Well, it’s clear your thoughts didn’t include me.”
Her rush from the room was punctuated by the slamming door. Silas took another thoughtful puff on his pipe. Patricia’s hand trembled as she lowered her cup.
“You’ll have to excuse her, Ben. She hasn’t been herself today.”
He scraped his chair back. “I’ll go talk to her.” Grabbing his hat from the hutch, he inclined his head. “Thanks again for the meal.”
Emerging onto the dark porch, he spotted the overwrought young woman’s shadowed form near the lane and the break in the fence line. His long strides ate up the distance.
“Veronica—”
“I shouldn’t have been rude.”
She enfolded his hand in both of hers. With a start, Ben realized he felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. That wasn’t the case with Isabel. The barest brush of her skin had him warm and tingly all over.
“I admit it,” she rushed ahead, “I’ve been jealous. Ridiculous, I know.” Her laugh had a desperate quality. “I mean, what could you possibly see in her?”