“Count me in.”
Startled, she gripped her cup so tightly, it threatened to buckle. Ben had spoken from directly behind her. Having the women talk about her husband was bad enough. Having him add his two cents was almost more than she could bear.
“Isn’t it, Dana?”
He had moved to stand at the end of the picnic table near her. She shifted on the bench, hoping to hide her reaction from everyone. “What?”
“I said the statue, or whatever the group decides on, is no more than Paul deserves.”
“You’re right there,” said Ellamae, directing attention her way again.
As the conversation continued, Dana slowly let out the breath she’d been holding and gave silent thanks to the older woman for saving her from another awkward situation. From having to respond when she had no clue what to say.
She had no idea how to handle her reaction whenever Ben came near her, either. The past year and more had already strained her nerves. The past couple of weeks had stretched them almost to the point of snapping. Here at the Whistlestop, at her office, and, worst of all, now even in her home, her frequent contact with him only made it harder for her to forget.
To forget what they’d done that night after the wedding.
To forget Paul, the best friend Ben had lost, the boy and later the man everyone in Flagman’s Folly had looked up to. Paul, the husband she had stopped loving long before he had died.
She lived with that knowledge daily. She didn’t need any reminders. And she certainly didn’t want a statue—a solid, unmovable, permanent reminder—of memories she longed to forget.
From the end of the table, Ben frowned and watched her.
With a shaking hand, she raised her cup to her lips and took a cautious sip. Though she managed to swallow, the lemonade didn’t do a thing to steady her. It didn’t help calm her racing thoughts at all. It didn’t give her a single solution.
How could it, when she had no way out of her dilemma?
Sometimes, she dreamed about telling folks the truth. About what Paul was like. About how he had treated her. But for her children’s sake, she couldn’t. For Ben’s sake, she wouldn’t. She was well and truly trapped, stuck forever in a web of deceit.
A web she had spun herself.
* * *
BEN DOWNED ANOTHER MOUTHFUL of lemonade. The tart flavor on his tongue almost hid the bitter taste Dana’s reaction had left in him a while earlier.
Almost.
Across the picnic bench from him, Caleb said, “The statue for Paul sounds like a great idea.”
Ben agreed. Too bad Dana didn’t see it that way. “He deserves all the accolades we can give him.”
“You’re right,” Caleb said emphatically, looking shaken.
Ben well understood that. Though Caleb had grown up in Flagman’s Folly, he hadn’t been around when they’d learned of the tragedy of Paul’s death. He’d only found out on his return to town.
Folks here still hadn’t gotten over the shock. No wonder Caleb looked upset. “You knew about his decision to join up?” he asked now.
“Yeah, he told me ahead of time. That’s a day I’ll never forget.”
Because the announcement had come as a complete surprise.
“You get to talk to him after he enlisted?”
“Yeah. A few times. He came home one last time, too. He’d seen a lot of action, things he didn’t want to talk about. You know Paul, though. He took on the role of soldier the way he did everything else.” With determination and the desire to excel and an almost uncanny belief that nothing would get in his way. To that point, nothing had. “You should’ve seen all his medals.”
They’d met up several times in that brief trip Paul had made home, and Ben was pleased when Paul stopped by the ranch again on his way out of town. That visit added one more entry...one final entry...to his store of memories of his best friend.
He’d been different that last time, edgy, uptight and distracted. Eager to get back to action, or so Ben had figured. Impatient to return to his new life or not, something had riled him up that day. He couldn’t have known he would never see Flagman’s Folly again.
Or, maybe he’d had a premonition of some kind, telling him he would never return.
Whatever he’d had on his mind, Ben suspected it had triggered the recollections Paul shared that day. Had prodded him to remind Ben about their past, to reinforce their long friendship. To talk about the bond between them.
A soldier, Paul said, needed to be able to rely on his platoon, to trust the men who had his back.
The way he trusted Ben.
That’s when he had asked Ben to watch over his family, speaking with an intensity that gave his request the weight of a solemn oath. With the same determination Paul had shown all through his life, Ben took that oath, knowing he would let nothing get in his way. He had never anticipated having to carry it out.
And then...
“Tess told me how it happened,” Caleb said. “About the evacuation.”
“Yeah. They got the women and kids out of the village, saved them all.”
And then Paul’s platoon was ambushed. In the chaos that followed, Paul dragged one of the downed soldiers to safety. Yet he hadn’t been able to dodge a bullet himself.
In an instant, his best friend was gone.
“Paul died a hero,” he said flatly.
And Ben had been left to fulfill his oath.
He could never break the promise he’d made. Never betray his best friend’s trust. Yet, hadn’t he done that, after all?
Hadn’t making love with Dana been the ultimate betrayal?
If nothing else would force him to keep his hands off his best friend’s widow, that would.
His best friend’s widow...
Again, his stomach churned at the sourness of the lemonade he’d swallowed, mixed with the remembrance of Dana’s reaction earlier. She didn’t like the idea of a tribute to her husband. He couldn’t understand it.
How could she not want to honor Paul?
Chapter Eight
“I don’t know, El,” Roselynn said, frowning as she loaded glasses into the dishwasher. “You might be wrong this time.”
Ellamae looked sharply at her sister. The last of the guests had just left the Whistlestop, and they were alone in the kitchen.
“Wrong about what?” Ellamae demanded.
“The statue for Paul.”
She glared. “When we talked about it last night, you thought it was a fine idea.”
“And I still do. It’s a wonderful honor for him. But I’m not sure what we should do about Dana. The poor girl looked like she didn’t know which way to turn when you brought it up this afternoon.”
Tess walked into the room with a load of serving trays. “Almost done,” she said.
She didn’t always care for what her aunt and mama got up to. Ellamae kept her mouth shut until she had left the room again. Then she said, “Dana will get used to the idea.”
“But if she’s still suffering so much...”
Roselynn always had been the pushover. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Dana,” Ellamae said gruffly.
“Of course I know that. But we don’t really know how she feels. And Tess is as unsure about this as we are.”
We? Normally, she would have snorted at that. She was never unsure about anything.
But for the moment, she needed to be careful about telling certain things to softy Rose. And to Tess. She also needed to uncover a few additional facts herself. That didn’t present a problem. She could always work her way around an obstacle, once she set her mind to it.
For a good cause, of course.
Tess came into the kitchen carrying a couple of tablecloths. “I’ll go throw these in the laundry, Mom.”
“Oh. Well...” Tess’s gaze swung to her mama and back to Ellamae again. For a moment, she looked the way Rose claimed Dana had—like she didn’t know where to turn. But she nodded. “Sure, I’d love to.”
“Good.” Ellamae smiled.
Yeah, she could always work her way around anything.
* * *
AT NOON ON TUESDAY, Dana walked the short distance from Wright Place Realty to the Double S. Her brisk pace and the warm sunshine on her shoulders made some of her tension ease. Not having seen Ben for a couple of days might have had something to do with that, too. She and Tess had worked late last night, rounding up properties for their client to view. When she arrived home, Anne said her landlord had left.
Now she turned the corner onto Signal Street and came to an abrupt stop.
Ben stood in front of the Double S, leaning against his pickup truck. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep her pulse from fluttering.
After a long, deep breath, she walked up to him. “What brings you to town in the middle of a workday?”
“A long list of overdue errands. Then I figured, as long as I was here, I’d stop for a cup of coffee.”
Obviously, he wasn’t having issues with his ranch foreman, as Caleb was. But her heart sank. “You’re just going in?”
He shook his head. “Just coming out. I’ve got a few things to do before I head over to your house.”
“Well, so long.”
She turned away. He put his hand on her wrist. His touch warmed her more completely than the sun had done—and every muscle it had relaxed now tightened again. She slid her hand free.
“What’s your hurry?” he asked.
“I’m early for a meeting here, and I want to get some paperwork done.”
“For your proposal?”
She should’ve known better than to hope he’d forgotten. That was part of the trouble with Ben. He had one of the best—and longest—memories she’d ever known. “No. I told you. We’re not quite done with that yet.”
“Ellamae and her buddies will be busy drawing up a proposal of their own. For Paul,” he added, as if she didn’t know what he’d meant. “I have to say, you didn’t appear to think much about their idea the other day.”
“I didn’t expect to have to think about it at all,” she said. “They sprang it on me out of nowhere.”
“That’s not much of a...reason for not showing a little more enthusiasm.”
She gripped the handle of her briefcase. “Reason?” she repeated. “Why do I need to give you a reason for my feelings?”
He shrugged. “Okay,” he conceded. “Maybe you don’t. But as you’ve mentioned it, how do you feel about it, anyhow?”
She exhaled in exasperation and stared at him. “And why do you think you have the right to ask that, either?” She shook her head. “Ben, what’s gotten into you?”
“I could ask you the same question. Paul is a hero, dammit.”
Yes, she wanted to shoot back at him. A hero to you and all the folks in town.
Once, long ago, Paul had been her hero, too.
For as long as she had known him, he could do no wrong in anyone’s eyes, including her own, from his grade school days all the way up through senior high. And after his success on the football team, he’d guaranteed his place in the town’s history as their golden boy. But gold tarnished. Fame didn’t last forever. Neither had her relationship with Paul.
She couldn’t say that to Ben, who now stood glaring at her. She couldn’t say that to anyone.
“Folks want to do something to honor him,” he said, “and you don’t seem to want any part of it.”
His voice had risen a notch, and she cringed. She didn’t intend to talk about this with him. Not now. Not ever. And especially not right here.
Footsteps sounded on the sidewalk behind her. She only hoped whoever approached hadn’t heard Ben’s words.
“Dana?”
The deep voice so close behind her made her jump. Turning, she looked up at the new client she had met just that morning.
A very good-looking man, Jared Hall stood a smidge taller than Ben. But he didn’t have Ben’s broad shoulders. He didn’t have Ben’s sparkling dark eyes. And, she discovered to her dismay, he didn’t thrill her the way Ben did.
“Jared Hall.” He held out his hand.
Quickly, she introduced the men, who stood eyeing each other. “Well,” she blurted into the silence, “I guess Jared and I should get to work.”
“Yeah,” Ben said, putting his hand on her wrist again. “I’ll see you later.”
Casual words. Words anyone might say to a friend. But his lingering touch and intimate tone gave a completely different impression. Before she could ward it off, a shiver of excitement ran through her. Disgust at herself immediately followed. He’d done that deliberately, as if to prove something to her.
Or to Jared.
Unsteadily, she turned away.
As she and Jared walked toward the Double S, she heard no movement behind her, no sound of a pickup door opening. Ben still watched them.
When Jared held open the door of the café, she looked up at him and...deliberately...gave him a wide smile. But as they entered, she didn’t dare look toward the street.
Inside the café, Dori and Manny greeted her with their usual beaming smiles.
“I heard you had my pastries on Saturday,” Dori said. “You enjoyed them, yes?”
“Absolutely,” Dana assured her.
“Along with my tacos,” Manny said. He and Dori had a friendly rivalry about which of their specialties brought customers into the Double S.
“Yes, along with the tacos,” Dana said, laughing. She introduced Jared, then led him to a corner booth.
Dori followed, carrying the tea and coffee they had ordered. “Also,” she said, “I hear there is big excitement in town about your Paul.”
Dana tightened her grip on the paper napkin she’d just spread across her lap. “That’s right. Ellamae and some of the other folks are planning something.”
“Yes, it was Ellamae who told me this morning. A very good thing. Everyone here says the same.”
“Yes,” she murmured.
When Dori walked away, Dana lifted her teacup and smiled across the booth at Jared, not seeing him. Her mind had gone far away in time but just a few blocks away in distance, back a year and more ago to the day she had learned of Paul’s death.
The news had left her reeling. Not because of what he had meant to her but because he no longer meant anything to her at all.
Not for her sake but for their children’s.
The daughter who idolized her daddy. The son who looked the image of him. And the baby she had just, days before, discovered she carried inside her.
Ben couldn’t have realized what his pushing about her feelings had done to her.
Deep inside, she recognized that Paul had given his life bravely and that folks looked up to him for that sacrifice. Yet she couldn’t get past her own knowledge of him.
Of the man he had never been.
Not a day passed without a bitter memory of how she’d felt about her marriage. About her husband. Still trying to deal with her disappointment in both, how could she face the idea of a statue in his honor?
* * *
BEN GOT THROUGH THE REST of his errands, then headed to where he wanted to be. Dana’s house.
No, his house. Dana’s home.
The sitter had already picked up the kids. When he drove up and parked near the garage, he found them all on the front porch. He could see Dana’s van coming down the street. Couldn’t have timed his arrival any better.
“You sure are.”
“Good.”
A second after Dana parked beside the pickup truck, the passenger door opened and Lissa and Nate spilled from the van.
Ben looked at Nate in surprise. “What are you doing here? I thought for sure you’d go right home from school to spend some time with your mama and daddy, now they’re back from their trip.”
“They’re not home.”
As the two girls ran off, Dana said, “Tess took Caleb to the airport. He’s going to Montana for a couple of days.”
“Did you get things taken care of with your rodeo cowboy?”
“No. In fact, we’re getting together again tonight.”
“Tonight? You mean, you’re dating him?”
She raised her eyebrows. Well, all right, maybe he’d been a bit too blunt. But seeing the man with her hadn’t set right with him. Not at all. Thinking of her going out with him...
“No, not a date. We’re meeting at the office to go over some listings.”
She pulled a sack from Harley’s out of the back of the van.
Seeing that she’d come from the market gave him other things to think about. It reinforced the thoughts he’d had about her lately, about how much responsibility she carried now that Paul was gone. The list of jobs he’d found needed doing around this house only added to his concerns.
Since Paul’s death, Dana had become a single mom, sole breadwinner and the person who needed to take care of her family. And her home. And anything else that might arise, such as the proposal she was working on. The one she still wouldn’t tell him about.
She reached into the van for another grocery sack and slammed the door.
“Can I carry those for you?”
She shook her head. “It’s okay, I can handle them.”
Without your help, her words implied. Surprise at her attitude no longer registered with him.
P.J. had waited quietly but now burst out, “Mama, I have to help Ben today!”
“Is that so?”
“Yep.” He nodded. “We can hang up the flowers you have out on the porch.”
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