A huge fireplace took up one wall, made up of rough-hewn fieldstone. Mounted on the wall above it was a trophy elk head, glass eyes staring blankly at the room. Hayden’s artist’s eye much preferred the bronze statues that flanked the fireplace, one a cowboy on a running horse, and the other a similar cowboy riding a bronc. A wall hanging with a American Indian design took up one wall, and a long bookcase filled with an eclectic mix of novels and non-fiction filled the opposite wall. The room had a wonderful cathedral ceiling and windows that reached up to the very highest peak, allowing a view of an orange sky.
Hayden stood, unsure of what to do. She glanced at Ben. He seemed to share her awkwardness as he took a seat at a desk in the corner of the room.
“About Bugs,” Ben began.
“I am so sorry about that. If I had any idea that he was lame, I wouldn’t have taken him out. Not that that’s any excuse for doing it. Is he going to be okay?” After she finished Hayden felt more foolish for the way she ran through those words, like she was desperate for his forgiveness.
“Whoa, it’s okay. He’ll be fine,” Ben held up a hand to stop her from saying anything else. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior. I overreacted, and I shouldn’t have said those things.”
For a moment Hayden just stared at him, letting his words sink in. Relief overtook her need to explain further that really she wasn’t the idiot he’d thought.
“You sure?”
“That I’m sorry? You bet,” Ben replied.
“No, I mean that Bugs is okay… Oh, about that. It’s okay, really.”
“Good. Then we can put it behind us.”
Hayden nodded and bit back on a smile. “Works for me.”
“I’m sorry there’s no television,” he apologized, with a smile that gave her a hint of one dimple. “There’s plenty to read. Cards too.”
Hayden laughed to herself. This man played host to people from all over? By what her grandmother said, he was the best host in South Dakota. How else would The Painted Horse Ranch get the reputation it enjoyed? Gran thought he should open up a dude ranch.
But with her, his body language was stilted, like a boy on his first date, not knowing what to do. She decided that it was best to just let him sit at his desk and take the opposite corner of the room. Apparently he had some paperwork to do. He took out a ledger of sorts and began to write in it.
Hayden caught sight of a basket in the corner next to a small table obviously made for children. There were several coloring books and a thick pad of drawing paper stacked in the basket. On the lower shelf of the bookcase a cup held pencils and crayons.
She selected a few pencils and the drawing paper and settled into a comfortable chair next to the fireplace.
With several quick strokes, she formed the tall walls of a lighthouse. It was rough, but anyone from Clarksport would recognize it. She filled in the attached house, then the narrow stretch of land that tumbled down into the rocky edge of the Atlantic.
Hayden sketched out several different angles of the lighthouse, drawing from memory the place she loved most in the world.
All through her childhood she’d wanted to be the keeper of the Clarksport Head Light, thought it would be incredibly romantic to live in the little house, so close to the ocean. Being able to hear every wave that that crashed against the rocks only yards from where she slept. To bravely keep the light shining through nor’easters that pummeled the coast and drove ships perilously near the sharp rocks.
One of her most cherished girlhood fantasies included a handsome ship’s captain, washed overboard during a hurricane. She would find him and nurse him back to health. Then, he’d fall madly in love with her, and he’d live in her lighthouse with her forever.
It was a dream that brought her through many lonely nights. Hayden smiled as she sketched out her handsome captain. He’d be tall, of course, broad shoulders and strong arms. Dark hair cut short. His strong jaw and chin had just a hint of a beard, but it blended nicely against his tanned face and brought out his pale blue eyes. Though she drew him with a smile, teeth white and even, two dimples giving him a boyish charm, she’d seen him stormy and passionate. Determined when he had a job to do.
“That’s fantastic,” a voice exclaimed above her.
Startled, Hayden jumped. Her pencil leapt from her fingers and bounced on the teal and russet rug. Her gaze traveled up to his, catching the image that she’d put down on paper. Before she could hide the drawing, she realized that her dream sea captain had taken on the likeness of Ben Winslow.
She refrained from voicing her utter horror and embarrassment, and instead gave him a trembling smile. If there were a good God in heaven, her sunburn would disguise the blush that flamed across her face.
“Thank you,” she replied, cursing her voice that caught in her throat.
Now she was doomed. Ben would forever be imprinted in her heart and head as her dream man.
****
Ben wished she were on the sofa so he could sit next to her. But he couldn’t come up with any good excuses to perch on the arm of her chair. Plenty of good reasons, but no good excuses. The way she looked at him, her brown eyes wide, like a filly that didn’t know whether she should be scared or curious made him want to put her at ease.
“Maybe I should have you paint my portrait. What do you think? I could hang it over the fireplace.”
Hayden continued to stare, as if she really wanted to say, “Are you nuts?”
Ben laughed. “I think it’s a great idea. Can you picture me in a fringed buckskin jacket, rifle in hand?”
She swallowed hard.
“Okay, I’m teasing. But you drew me so nicely. Is that lighthouse the same one you painted for Lu?”
The blush in Hayden’s cheeks faded several shades and left a pleasant pink glow to her skin. Her lips curved into a slight smile as she lowered her eyes.
“Yes, that’s Clarksport Head Light. I can see it from my window back at home. I’ve always dreamt of living in the little house there.”
He leaned down and picked up her pencil. When she took it from him, their fingers brushed lightly.
The rosy tint returned to her cheeks.
Ben smiled. How many women of his acquaintance would blush at such a brief, innocent touch?
He wanted to study her more, wished he could continue looking at her, but he could sense her reticence.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked, to ease her nerves. He took a step back.
“No, thank you. I’m doing fine.”
Ben looked up at the big windows. The sky had darkened to a deep amethyst, with streaks of rust.
“Can I show you something?”
Hayden looked alarmed, but nodded.
“Come on.”
He led the way out of the living room and into the foyer, opening the door for her. She stepped slowly out onto the big front porch.
Twilight was his favorite time of the day. The work was done, nothing more to worry about when the moon rode low in a sky that teetered somewhere between the deepest blue and inky black.
Despite the storm that had swept through, the evening was steeped in tranquility. Several stars burned bright and just the tiniest sliver of ruddy sky touched the horizon, still burning a pinkish orange. Within minutes it would wink out.
No wonder Jaycie teased him about being the most poetic man in the whole of South Dakota. And he didn’t even mind.
“I saw the painting you did for Lu. Just wondered how your east coast moon compared with ours.”
With his hands on her shoulders, Ben turned her to face east, where the moon barely touched the tops of the cottonwoods in the distance. It was as full as could be and appeared three times as big as usual.
He was pleased when he heard her intake of breath.
“Who would have thought?” He chuckled. He left his hands on her shoulders for a moment longer, relishing in the warmth underneath the fabric of her shirt. It brought to mind how she felt when he held her against him earlie
r in the day. Of course, earlier he’d felt anything but amorous.
Hayden didn’t seem to mind so much. She let his hands remain in place.
“It’s incredible,” she agreed, her voice not more than a whisper. “Nothing like Maine.”
“Tomorrow evening we can come out earlier. You can see the whole thing. The sunsets here are fantastic.”
“Tomorrow night?”
“If you’re still here. There’s no guarantee we can get you back to Primrose. Depends on the water level and the weather.”
Another few stars blinked on, and more purple sky sunk into blackness.
“Do you think you could get used to this?” He had to lean in to murmur in her ear. Her hair blew in the light breeze, tickling against his cheek.
But she pulled away and swung around to face him. Her eyes looked pitch black.
“What do you mean by that?”
Ben let his hands drop to his side.
What did he mean? Damn, he wasn’t even sure.
He inhaled deeply, and somewhere, lingering with the dampness of the earth and the crisp sweetness of the air, he could smell her. Nothing perfumy, just a subtle hint of shampoo and, well, her.
“What do you plan to do, now you’re here? Did you ever think that Lu may decide to leave Primrose Inn to you? Would you consider staying if she did?”
He didn’t know why he asked, or even if he deserved an answer. He enjoyed her company, was pleasantly surprised that she’d sketched him amongst her lighthouses, her pieces of home. But he wanted to hear it from her.
****
There was none of the suspicion she’d run across in town in Ben’s eyes or voice. In fact, there was no judgment that Hayden could see at all, though in the darkness it was difficult to make out any kind of expression in his eyes.
She wasn’t a completely clueless about what had been said, and Sally spoke loudly, speculating over the phone about why she’d come to South Dakota when she had. But her reasons were between her and her grandmother.
And now this Jesse Ball, the man she assumed to be her father, was involved in her reasons for staying. The unexpected complication was going to be much more difficult to sort out. If she’d never found the dusty old journal hiding in the barn she would’ve gone on in ignorance of whom her father was. But as soon as she saw the name Jesse Ball and what he meant to Rosalyn so long ago, her curiosity drove her to get a glimpse of the man who was still a part of the community. The sight of him cemented her hunch into fact. She looked too much like him to deny her parentage. Add that to what Mother had told her of her past, Hayden decided she didn’t like Jesse Ball at all, despite the words in the old journal.
With only the dim light bleeding through the window over the door, Hayden looked at Ben. What would he think if Jesse Ball were really her father? Jesse was a man of importance in Burton. Good for him, but it hadn’t been so good for her mother. She’d somehow made it east, surviving on not much more than pride and self-preservation after being deserted by the man she left town with. Jesse had a rich family behind him.
“I haven’t even considered that possibility. And given the circumstances I’m not sure my presence would be too welcome in town. Maybe if I didn’t look so much like my father people would be more inclined to accept me. Do you think I’m here for my father’s money?”
“I don’t think that’s what people are thinking.” Ben replied slowly. His brows were drawn down in a frown.
“Don’t you? People seem to not care about what really brought me here. I guess being the illegitimate daughter of its most prized citizen is much more interesting. What do you believe about my being here?” she inquired.
It was a long shot, to trust this man she barely knew. She had precious few friends, but she sensed that he might understand. First, though, she wanted to find out which of the rumors he’d bought into. Or if he’d formed his own conclusions.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. You don’t appear to me to be as conniving as I’ve heard some say. I don’t think you came here for any other reason than talking to Lu.”
Hayden laughed. So, the good people of Burton were so clever that they could judge her from just a few meetings? There were only three people she’d spent more than five minutes with. Her grandmother, who seemed inclined just to be happy to have her there, no big questions asked. Cousin Sally, who burned up the phone lines, no doubt filling everyone in on her every move. And Ben Winslow, the man who not only was her grandmother’s close friend, but Jesse’s as well.
“I’ll put your mind at ease, Ben. I’m not here to settle down at Primrose. Gran might not be happy, but if she’s decided to leave the place to me, I’d probably sell it. I know that sounds awful, but even if I didn’t have my own inn up in Maine to run, it’s obvious that I don’t know how to survive here in South Dakota.”
Hayden retreated up the steps to the porch swing that hung from the overhang of the roof. She sat and pushed with her toe until the seat drifted back and forth. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and took in the scent of honeysuckle that delicately tinted the night.
“It’s been in your family for generations. Shouldn’t you consider your moves very carefully?”
Hayden shrugged. “Maybe, but I have a home in Maine. My stepfather needs me out there.”
Ben took a seat next to her. His thigh was less than an inch away. The heat radiated off him and sunk into her body sensually. She had to struggle against the urge to close the distance and press against him.
The whole evening was heady, the scents, the million stars scattered across the broad expanse of the black sky, and the energy that shimmered between her thigh and his.
“I don’t know, maybe it’s time to leave. I’ve met my grandmother. I just want to meet my father. That’s all I need to do here.”
“You don’t know that he’s your father,” Ben pointed out.
“I’ve read my mother’s diary. I can’t see how it can be anyone else. I’ve heard enough people say that we look too much alike to not be related. Does he happen to have a twin brother?”
Ben shook his head.
She didn’t know why he bothered to deny it. Perhaps he didn’t want to cast a shadow on such a shining light of morality in the town.
Well, people made mistakes. Not that she wanted to consider the act that brought her into this world a “mistake”, but she couldn’t understand the need for denial. Jesse had been much older than her mother when they were together and certainly old enough to take advantage of her. What he did afterwards—deserting her in some hotel room in Indiana—well, sure that would be enough of a smear on his good name.
The moon crawled farther up in the black sky. Hayden pushed herself out of the swing and jumped off the porch. She wanted to be under the moon’s silvery light. No, she wanted to be away from Ben. He did nothing for her sense of peace. She looked back at him, but he’d gotten to his feet as well and was coming after her.
“What’s going to happen if you prove he’s your dad? What do you want from him?”
“I don’t want anything from him. Not money, not even his love. I didn’t come here looking for a father. I’ve got one of those back in Maine, a father who’s been there for me since I was five. But now I think I’ve found my biological father, I want to know something about him. Have a chance to find out why he left my mother.”
Hayden retreated farther. She didn’t know why she denied the desire she felt every time he was near. He was another complication she didn’t expect when she came here.
“And what’s it going to do to him, Hayden? To his life and family?”
Ben caught up to her and took hold of her arm.
“What do you think it’s done to my life? My family?” she whispered.
She looked up at him, locking her gaze with his. Wind ruffled his hair, and she longed to reach up and run her fingers through it. Would it be as soft as it looked? She wouldn’t be able to stop there. Her fingers would have to stroke down his cheek, feel the
stubble that darkened his jaw. And how could she resist touching his lips, running a fingertip over the mouth that didn’t smile now?
His hand tightened over her arm, and if she didn’t know better, she would’ve sworn that he pulled her closer to him. Maybe it was just an illusion of the moonlight that spilled down on them, glimmering in his eyes. And if she didn’t leave now, she would kiss him. Would it be such a bad thing? She asked herself that and couldn’t answer it with definitive “yes”.
Instead of pulling away, Hayden leaned into him, the hard muscles of his torso pressed against her body. Her gaze slid along the line of his jaw and up to his lips. For a long moment she stood against him, not caring that she hardly knew him. All that mattered was his lips and the way his other hand had crept into her hair. She stood on tiptoe, the mild friction of the movement setting fire to every nerve in her body. She touched her lips shyly to his, feeling their dryness. Yet they were smooth and firm. Boldly, she pressed harder. She could feel the slow intake of Ben’s breath against her mouth as she touched her hands to his tight shoulders.
Please kiss me back, she begged silently, moving her mouth over his, searching for a response from him, some kind of indication that her kiss was welcome. If he didn’t respond it would be a horribly uncomfortable stay. She’d be mortified for the rest of her time in Burton, knowing that she’d thrown herself at him.
Ben rescued her frantic mind, though, when he put his arms around her and joined her in the kiss. His lips went from hard to soft yet insistent. She sensed that he held his breath. Her fingers skimmed the back of his neck and ran through his short hair as she pressed herself closer to him.
A tremor ran through his body as she let the tip of her tongue trace the bottom of his lip. She could sense his uncertainty, but with the way his body trembled and the way his hands raked up her sides, she knew he withheld tremendous energy. She coaxed his lips apart and let her tongue discover his, encourage the swirling dance. Her hands went down his back. His body against her enthralled her and drove her on, stirred curling tendrils of heat in her blood.
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