Benjamin

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Benjamin Page 6

by Amelia Adams


  “Tiffani’s an optimist. She’s always looking for the best in people, giving them the benefit of a doubt. It sounds to me like Melissa has been hurt a few times in the past, so she expects to get hurt again and again. She’s got barriers up against that. I’d love to meet her so I can get a more definite idea about that—I’m just surmising right now.”

  “Sounds like a pretty good surmisation to me, based on her reactions.”

  Adam raised an eyebrow. “Surmisation?”

  “Or whatever. I’m trying to say that I think you’re right.”

  “Okay. Let’s call it my theory—that sounds more credible. If my theory is correct, all you can do is show her that you can be trusted, and unfortunately, the best way to go about that is to leave her alone.”

  “To show her that I respect her space.”

  “That’s right. If you keep showing up when she’s clearly angry at you, she’ll feel like you don’t value her feelings.”

  Benjamin shook his head. “But if I wait for her to come around, I could be waiting a long, long time.”

  “Then that’s how it should be. Maybe she needs a long, long time, or maybe she’ll wake up tomorrow morning and realize that she can’t live without you. We can’t predict these things.”

  Benjamin laughed. “Dad can, and he says we’re going to get married.”

  “Well, there you have it then.” Adam clapped him on the shoulder. “So, tell me more about this girl.”

  “To be honest, I wasn’t thinking about her in a romantic way until Mom and Dad brought it up. I thought she was pretty, but I was focused more on the problem with her field. But now, she’s almost all I can think about, and the fact that I’ve hurt her . . .”

  “I’ll tell you a little something you should know. Men hurt women, and women hurt men. It’s something that happens all the time, and it’s not because we’re horrible or because we set out to do it. It’s simply because we see the world through entirely different lenses, and we don’t know from one minute to the next what’s going to hurt each other. All we can do is try our very best, apologize when needed, and learn from our mistakes.”

  “That sounds so depressing,” Benjamin replied. “Like there’s no way to avoid it.”

  “I don’t think there is a way to avoid it entirely. Of course, don’t be a jerk—that’s a really good start. But even the very nicest guys hurt their ladies sometimes, and it’s all a matter of what they do from there that determines what kind of man they really are deep down. And what kind of character the lady has, too—if she’s forgiving, or if she’s the kind who holds a grudge. Relationships are hard to navigate.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready for all this. I can’t even navigate a simple conversation.”

  Adam laughed. “You think a conversation about gifts and powers is simple?”

  Benjamin shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah, I do. But the most important thing you’ve gotta know is that it’s so worth it.” Adam nodded toward the house again. “I’m speaking with the experience of a man married a whole week, but it really is the best thing I’ve ever done. I always thought I was pretty independent and self-sufficient, but she completes me in ways I didn’t know I needed completing. Melissa will bring similar blessings into your life too. This is worth fighting for, Benjamin. It really is.”

  Benjamin saw the spark of honesty in his brother’s eyes and knew he was speaking the truth. He wanted that kind of relationship for himself—one where both he and his wife were made stronger for it. “I’m just not sure how to fight for it while also giving her space.”

  “You just summed up every confusing thing about women ever,” Adam replied. “Figuring out what they want and then giving them what they want is a very time-consuming process.” He chuckled. “I think I’ll go buy some pumpkins tomorrow. If I’m going to help you to the best of my ability, I need to meet her.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” Benjamin replied. “I do feel kind of bad, though, sending my empathic brother over there to get the lay of the land for me. Isn’t that cheating in a way?”

  “I’m not going to read her mind and find out her favorite music and flowers so you’ll have an unfair advantage, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Adam said. “I’m not even sure I could pull that out of her—that’s pretty specific. No cheating, I promise.”

  Benjamin nodded. “Thanks. This is going to work out, isn’t it? I know Dad said it would, but I’m still worried about it.”

  “Dad’s foresight has never been wrong before, but you’ve got to keep in mind that she could continue to exert her free will. The forces that be wouldn’t push her into it.”

  “She’s just stubborn enough that she might keep pushing me away even if her feelings change,” Benjamin said.

  “And that makes me think she’s perfect for you.” Adam grinned. “You need a little pepper and vinegar in your life.”

  ***

  Melissa hadn’t slept much since her argument with Benjamin McClain. At first, it had been anger keeping her awake, but that morphed into regret. Maybe she should have heard him out. Maybe she should have asked some clarifying questions. Maybe she should have asked to meet his father so she could see if the man was a total lunatic raising his family up to be lunatics just like him. These questions circled through her head whenever she had a quiet minute, and even more so when her room was dark and she was left alone with her thoughts.

  She’d never seen such brisk business at the pumpkin patch, not in all the years she’d helped her grandparents run it. In talking with her customers, she learned that some had driven for a couple of hours to buy from her because word was spreading about the quality of her crop. Someone had posted a recommendation on Facebook, and people were sharing it like crazy. Each night, she’d count up the money in the cash box, tuck away the profits, and say a gratitude prayer that things were going so well. As much as she hated to admit it, she owed all that to Benjamin McClain, who had asked for nothing in return except for cookies.

  Well, and to marry her—but then again, he hadn’t proposed. He’d never made that a condition of anything. Her mother’s words came back to haunt her—premonitions weren’t orders. She could still choose. Then she scoffed—she’d never put much stock in premonitions before. Why was she starting now?

  Because of the tree and the bush.

  She could think the entire thing was ridiculous, but she couldn’t deny the fact that she’d seen the bush and the tree grow. She had to give credence to everything else because of that.

  And that meant Mr. McClain had premonitions, and that meant . . . Well, it meant she still had her free will. No one would make her do anything.

  She sighed and rolled over. How many nights was she going to keep this up, running through these questions in her head until she was all but crazy? It was time to push everything to the side and focus on finishing out this season. Once Halloween was over, they’d start selling pie pumpkins, and then it would be time to let the patch go fallow until the following year. She needed to sit down with her grandparents’ growing schedule and determine exactly when she needed to take each step. Her grandmother had made scented candles during the winter, and while Melissa knew how and somewhat enjoyed the process, there was a decision to be made as to whether she wanted to push ahead with that. It was a farm tradition, but time consuming.

  She fell asleep considering that, and in the morning, she was relieved to find that she felt somewhat rested. After a quick shower, she headed downstairs and into the kitchen, coming to a stop when she saw that the entire counter was covered with baked goods and her entire mother was covered with flour.

  “Mom? What’s going on?”

  “Well, I couldn’t sleep, so I decided I’d make some things to sell at the stand. I love your double ovens here, honey. Your grandmother knew what she was up to when she had those put in.”

  “Yeah, they’re really nice.” Melissa leaned against the counter and snagged a chocolate chip cookie o
ff a plate. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

  Her mother paused in the middle of wrapping a plate of cookies and met her daughter’s eye seriously. “It hurts me to know you’re hurting, sweetheart. I’ve been watching you—this is more than just some idiot guy who did something stupid. This has gone deeper for you, hasn’t it?”

  Melissa nodded. “Yeah, it has.” She studied her fingernails while she talked. “I keep wondering if I made a big mistake when I sent him packing.”

  “Have you thought about talking to him about it?”

  “I’ve thought so many things . . .” Melissa grabbed some plastic wrap and began packaging the mini loaves of pumpkin bread that rested on the end of the counter. “This isn’t like that time in high school when Jimmy White put a mouse in my locker. If Benjamin is trying to play a trick on me, it’s . . . it’s like you say—there’s so much more to it than that. What if he’s mentally ill? He could be running around untreated when he needs to be on some kind of medication.”

  “True, but you can believe differently from other people without being mentally ill,” her mother pointed out. “And who is to say that there’s only one reality? Don’t we each have our own reality based on our own experiences and world view?”

  Melissa wrapped the last loaf and rested her hands on the counter. “You believe him, don’t you, Mom?”

  “I do.” She turned and met Melissa’s gaze. “I can’t explain it, but when I met that young man, even though we just waved at each other, I felt good about him. There was a sense of peace or something that radiated from him. I can’t say that I understand his situation or his family legacy or anything else, but I think it’s something to learn about, not something to avoid or fear.”

  Melissa pulled in a deep breath. Her mother had never steered her wrong before, and she’d just said some things that made a lot of sense. “I’ll think about that,” she said at last. “It’s time to open shop—let’s get these out to the stand.”

  The morning started out a little slow, which was just fine with Melissa because she was still trying to wrap her head around what her mother had said. They arranged the baked goods on a folding table right near the stand, and it looked so pretty, Melissa started to think about doing that for the other various holidays too—pies during Thanksgiving, cookies for the Fourth of July. She’d have to weigh that out—how much time it would take versus the possible profits.

  She had pulled out a notebook and was starting to jot down her ideas when a large pickup pulled up in front of the stand and a man and woman hopped out. “At least ten for the front porch,” the woman was saying. “Halloween is not the time to go skimpy.”

  The man chuckled, then approached Melissa, holding out his hand. “Good morning. My name is Adam McClain, and this is my new wife, Tiffani. We’re your neighbors over there on the McClain Boys’ Ranch.”

  Melissa took his hand somewhat cautiously. “Hi there. I’m Melissa Daniels. I heard about your wedding—congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” Tiffani said with a wide smile. “So, we’re hoping you can help us out.”

  “With what?” Melissa asked. Good grief—she sounded so suspicious.

  “With pumpkins, of course,” Tiffani replied. She gestured to the large selection there by the stand. “We’re going to need at least forty—that’s one for each boy to carve, plus ten to decorate the front porch of the main house.”

  Of course with pumpkins. This was a pumpkin patch. Melissa wanted to kick herself—she felt like such a dork. “You bet. Would you like to choose them from the field, or look at what we have here?”

  “I’d like to take a look at the field, if you don’t mind,” Adam said. “Wanna come, honey?”

  “You go ahead,” Tiffani replied. “I need to check out these cookies.”

  “Mike’s back there—grab one of those little red wagons there on the edge to haul back what you choose out,” Melissa said. “Mike will bring up whatever you aren’t able to carry.”

  “Thanks.” Adam touched the brim of his hat, reminding her so much of Benjamin, and strode off toward the patch.

  Melissa turned back toward Tiffani, feeling more than just a little awkward, but Tiffani seemed entirely engrossed in the baked goods. “I definitely need all these,” she said, nodding toward the mini loaves. “And I probably need all the chocolate chip cookies, too. Adam has some catching up to do with the boys now that we’re back, and nothing loosens a boy up like cookies.”

  “What does Adam do at the ranch?” Melissa asked as she placed the loaves in a plastic sack.

  “He’s a psychologist, and he has a regular counseling schedule with each of the boys,” Tiffani replied as she picked up a plate of Rice Krispies treats and handed it to Melissa.

  “And . . .” Melissa wondered if she should even ask, but she had to. Here was someone with the inside scoop, someone who could shed a little light on the situation. “And he’s an empath, right?” Too nosy—she shouldn’t have said anything. Her cheeks felt hot.

  “Yes, he is,” Tiffani said easily, just as easily as talking about the weather. “His gift makes him an excellent counselor because he can sense when a boy is ready to talk and when he needs more time to process.” She smiled. “I know what happened with you and Benjamin—at least, from his perspective. My question is, how are you?”

  Melissa blinked. She hadn’t expected such candor. “To be honest, I’ve felt just about every emotion I think there is to be felt,” she said. “I’ve gone from angry to feeling betrayed to hurt to bewildered so fast, I’m getting dizzy. You’ve got to tell me—is this really for real? Or is the whole family crazy?”

  Tiffani threw back her head and laughed. “I know exactly how you feel. It’s not every day you meet people like them. But you’ve got to think about it this way—we’ve been entrusted with something rare, incredible, unique—they’ve only shared their secret with a handful of people over the generations. It’s like . . . it’s like Brigadoon. We’ve stumbled across this amazing story, and we get to take part in it.”

  “Brigadoon?”

  “You don’t know Brigadoon?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

  Tiffani sighed. “That’s right—Lillian told me you’d never seen Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, either. It’s going to be really hard making old movie references around you if you’ve never seen any. You must become educated!”

  “That’s what Lillian said too,” Melissa said, smiling despite herself. “Tell me about Brigadoon.”

  “You should watch it for yourself, but I’ll give you the gist. There’s this village in Scotland that was cursed to appear only once every hundred years. If you enter the village and choose to stay there, you can move forward in time with it as one of its citizens. If you leave, you’ll never see it again, as it will leave you behind. Gene Kelly and Cyd Charisse—it’s one of the best.” She sighed, a happy look on her face.

  “Anyway, the McClain ranch is kind of like that. It doesn’t disappear, of course, but it has a secret, and we’re some of the few who know it. So we have a choice—do we get on board with that secret, or do we let it go past without us? It was a no-brainer for me. Not only was I in love with Adam, but I wanted part of the amazing things they do at the ranch—they literally change boys’ lives. I came on as the fundraising coordinator, and as part of that, I read a million accounts of boys who have gone on to have incredible lives thanks to the second chance they got here. This place is magic even without the gifts and the family legacy.”

  “And you don’t find it strange?”

  Tiffani laughed again. “Of course I do! But it’s a wonderful kind of strange. You’ve just got to open up your heart to it.” She reached out and touched Melissa’s shoulder. “You have every reason to be doubtful, but take my word for it. You’ll never meet anyone else like these people, and you’ll never meet a man better than Benjamin. His soul is so honest and pure, I’ve never seen anything like it. I’m proud to call him my brother, and I trust him
implicitly.”

  Melissa nodded, surprised to find that she had tears in her eyes. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

  Adam and Mike arrived at the stand just then, pulling a wagon between them. “Here are the first ten, honey,” Adam said. “What do you think?”

  Tiffani grinned. “They’re perfect. Just thirty more, and I’ll be happy. Oh, and I’m buying out all the baked goods, too—I thought you’d want them for your appointments.”

  Adam groaned. “There goes my waistline.”

  “They’re for the boys, not you, silly.” She gave him an affectionate smile, then turned back to Melissa. “If you do any more baking, I’d love to know about it. I love home-baked goods, but I don’t have as much time as I’d like.”

  “I will,” Melissa promised.

  Twenty minutes later, Adam and Tiffani bounced down the dirt road, the back of the truck totally filled with pumpkins and the seat in the cab covered with plates of cookies. Melissa knew their visit hadn’t been random or without a purpose, but she was so glad they’d come—Tiffani had given her a lot to think about. As had her mom. It was almost like they’d ganged up on her or something.

  Chapter Nine

  It was time for the traditional Friday night family dinner, and as usual, Lillian had gone all out. Benjamin filled his plate to overflowing, knowing he’d regret eating that much, but also knowing it would be worth the agony. He carried his plate over next to Adam and Tiffani, eager to hear their report of their trip to the pumpkin patch.

  “She’s really a great girl,” Tiffani said as soon as Benjamin sat down. “I like her already, and we only talked for a few minutes.”

  “She is pretty likable,” Benjamin agreed. He flicked his eyes over to Adam, hoping his brother would tell him what he needed to know without being pestered for it. Adam simply took a bite of potato salad, ignoring him.

  “And the pumpkins were great. We unloaded them on the back porch and told the boys to come pick one out. They’ve been carving all afternoon,” Tiffani went on.

 

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