Читать книгу Anywhere with You - Debbi Rawlins, Debbi Rawlins - Страница 11
ОглавлениеTHE TENT WAS GONE, along with the tables and chairs. Ben shouldn’t have been surprised. People in the country woke early and went right to work. He’d been one of them once.
He stood near the stable waiting for Trace to bring back the Porsche. In the bright sunlight, the Sundance looked even more run-down than it had last night. The place wasn’t an eyesore, nothing like that. In fact, their paying guests might consider the buildings quaint and rustic. And for all he knew, that was the point of not keeping things pristine. But he doubted it. The McAllisters had too much pride.
A dude ranch...
Ben still couldn’t believe it. Gavin McAllister must be turning over in his grave. He’d been a cattleman to the bone, and proud of it. But he’d been a husband and father first, and willing to do anything to take care of his own. And that had once included Ben.
Blocking the sun with his hand, he squinted down the gravel driveway. Trace had been gone awhile now. What the hell...was he halfway to Kalispell? Maybe Ben should’ve warned him about Grace. The other deputies wouldn’t ticket him. To some extent, Ben understood why she had to be a hard-ass. Still, she could’ve given him a warning.
He glanced at his watch and shook his head in amazement. Trace had been gone only seven minutes. Hardly long enough to get the Porsche revved.
No mystery what had Ben edgy. He turned to the house, wondering if Hilda was standing at a window, watching him. The chaos in the kitchen had kept him from seeing her last night. Okay, fine. Nothing would have stopped him if he’d truly wanted to see her. His sister had slung the accusation after waking him with an early call. Claudia hadn’t tried his cell phone. No, she’d rung the inn and asked someone to pound on his door at 8:00 a.m. when she knew he’d still be sleeping. Probably to punish him for not staying at the Sundance.
Claudia refused to understand he couldn’t just waltz in after a fifteen-year absence. Hilda would want to know everything that had happened to him. He’d never admit he’d had it rough in LA after leaving the Sundance. A big olive-skinned kid like him who fit a nice, neat stereotype of a freeloading illegal brought a lot of unwanted attention. For months, he’d been stopped, questioned and frisked almost daily. Sometimes the shakedowns had been warranted, most times not. So no, he wasn’t overly fond of law enforcement in any form.
It had shocked him to learn Noah Calder was sheriff of Blackfoot Falls. When they’d been kids, Noah had practically lived at the Sundance, getting into his share of trouble right alongside Ben.
Maybe he should stop by the office when he got back to town. And just maybe he’d see Grace.
Giving in to the inevitable, he started toward the house. Distracted by thoughts of Grace’s pale, creamy skin, he almost didn’t see Cole walking out of the stable.
“Hey, Ben.” He pulled off his work gloves. “I didn’t know you were here. Find me before you leave. I want to show you something.”
Ben veered his way. “What’s that?”
“It can wait,” Cole said, glancing at the house.
“We’re here now.”
Cole smiled. “Okay. Come on. It won’t take long.”
As they entered the stable Ben breathed in the familiar scents of saddle soap and leather. He was glad to see the tack wall was in primo condition.
They passed five stalls before Cole stopped and motioned with his chin. “Look familiar?”
Ben stared at the long-legged colt, noticed the identifying snip of white between the nostrils. “Is Zorro the sire?”
“Yep.” Standing with his arms folded, his feet planted wide, Cole looked on like a proud papa. “This is Milo.”
“How old?”
“Four and half months. Just been weaned.”
“You gonna sell him?”
“Nope. He’s staying right here.”
“You ever change your mind, call me.”
Cole looked over at him. “So you’re going through with it. You’re buying that ranch?”
Ben had forgotten he’d mentioned it to him in LA. “As soon as I get back to California and sign the papers.”
“Good for you, bro. You should be working with horses. Dad always said he’d never seen anyone better with an Arabian than you.”
Ben’s chest tightened. He didn’t remember that, but he believed Cole. “You been doing much breeding?”
He shrugged. “Not really. Why?”
“I’ll be in the market for stock soon.” Ben hadn’t considered the possibility before now, but he liked the idea of being able to give them some business.
“You must have closer ranches and auctions,” Cole said, the interest in his eyes at odds with his nonchalant words.
“I’ll need startup stock with good lineage, a few smart, trainable horses. If you decide to breed, we’d be talking more about stud services. I may do some breeding myself later on, but for now I’m more interested in doing the training. Bottom line? Whatever we work out, I trust you. You wouldn’t believe what a rare commodity that is in Hollywood.”
Cole rubbed his jaw, squinting at the colt while he thought. “Sure. You know Trace...he’s always been more interested in horses than the cattle. He’d be all over a breeding program.”
Cole’s cell rang. He was needed in the east barn, so Ben walked out with him. They agreed to talk more before he left for LA, and then Ben headed toward the house.
He’d barely knocked once when Barbara McAllister flung the door wide. “Ben. Oh, my goodness, you’re even taller than when you left,” she said, and pulled him into a hug. “I’m glad you came.”
Ben smiled. She was so tiny that her arms couldn’t reach all the way around him. “You look good, Mrs. McAllister. How are you?”
“I’m fine.” She leaned back. “Look at you, so handsome. I saw you last night from the porch, but with all those people here, I couldn’t get to you before you disappeared.”
“I knew you all were busy, so I stayed away from the house. I figured today would be better.”
“Well, your mom is very anxious to see you. How about we go to the kitchen? I bet you still know the way. It was always your favorite room in the house.”
“Mrs. McAllister, are you implying I ate like a horse?”
“Of course not. None of you boys did.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re an adult now. Call me Barbara so I don’t feel like I’m a hundred and ten.”
“Come on now, Barbara, you know you could be Rachel’s twin.”
With a laugh, she wagged a finger at him. “You,” she said, “are too charming for your own good.”
She had to be in her midfifties, but she still looked youthful, her skin smooth and unlined except for the laugh lines around her eyes. He was about to follow her then realized something was different about the house. Sunlight shining in through a two-story window flooded the foyer and living room.
“That’s new,” he said, amazed he hadn’t noticed last night.
“It was Cole’s winter project a few years ago. Before—” She sighed. “Before things got a bit tight around here. I don’t mean only the Sundance. The whole community has suffered.”
Jesus, he hadn’t considered how the poor economy had affected small rural towns. The film business had felt the pinch also, though obviously not like the rest of the country. Made him more eager to do business with the McAllisters.
At the door shared by the dining room and the kitchen, Barbara stopped and lowered her voice. “I’ll let you go in by yourself.”
“No, you don’t have to—”
“Yes.” She gave him a gentle smile and squeezed his hand. “I do. We’re all so glad you’re here,” she said and slipped away.
Ben inhaled deeply. Feminine laughter wafted from the back of the house. It would be so easy to find a distraction. Postpone seeing Hilda for another day. He didn’t have to be back in LA until the loan was finalized. In just over a week, the Ventura ranch would be all his. Well, his and Lena’s, but she was a silent partner, a venture capitalist with one foot in the film business. She had her hands in a variety of projects and knew nothing about ranching or horses. Turning a profit was all she cared about.
It was eerily quiet on the other side of the door. Normally, he’d hear pots banging around, Hilda humming. The woman loved to hum or sing. It didn’t matter what kind of music or in what language. She was probably wringing her hands, waiting for him to come through the door.
Might as well get it over with. He pushed the door open. She sat at the oak table, her hands clasped tightly together.
“Benedicto,” she murmured, her voice catching as she got to her feet. “I can’t believe you’re really here. You’re a man now. Tall and handsome.”
Wrinkles lined her face. Her eyes looked tired. Partly because of him, he imagined. And partly because of the lies she’d been unable to keep straight over the years. All variations on a theme. Why his father never came to see them. Why they’d left the house he and Claudia had loved. Why they had no grandparents or cousins. And finally, that his father was dead. Regardless of the cause, her dark brown eyes were filled with sadness, and his chest tightened in unexpected sympathy.
“Hello, Mom.” He went to her and she opened her arms to him. A tear slipped down her cheek just before he hugged her. Some of the resentment that had weighed him down lifted as memories—good ones—from his early childhood rushed through his mind.
All was not forgiven, though. He still had questions, and if she thought him being here absolved her of the lies and deceit, she was wrong.
When she finally released him, Ben expected her to lead him to the table so the long overdue talk could begin. But after she ran a hand down his chest, she went straight to the fridge.
Ben sighed. She would fill him with a homemade meal, tell him...whatever, and barely look at him again. At least he recognized the ground rules: she wouldn’t tell the truth and he wouldn’t confront her. The relief was instantaneous. He was off the hook for now. And so was she. But he wasn’t leaving Montana without knowing exactly what happened with his father.
* * *
GRACE SENSED SOMEONE standing behind her and turned to see Roy looking over her shoulder as she finished her end-of-shift report. “Yes? Did you want something?”
“Give out any more tickets today?” Roy chuckled. “Can’t believe you cited Ben. I bet that pissed him off real good.”
“Not my problem.” She shuffled some papers and obscured Roy’s view. “He shouldn’t have been speeding.”
“That hard-ass attitude ain’t gonna win you any friends around here.”
A sarcastic remark almost slipped out. But that would be stupid. Curious, she asked, “So, you wouldn’t have given him a ticket?”
Roy walked over to the coffeemaker sitting on a metal filing cabinet. Only the two of them were in the office. Danny was out on patrol, and it was Wade’s day off. And Gus, he worked a couple days a week. She’d never heard of a part-time deputy position before.
Roy’s eyebrows drew together as he refilled his mug. He’d never impressed her as someone who thought before speaking.
“It’s not a trick question, Roy. I’m honestly just curious.”
He studied her for a moment, then dumped a ton of sugar into his coffee. “I doubt it,” he said finally.
“Does anyone ever give speeding tickets?”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “Out on the highway. But here? Not too often. Usually it’s the high school kids we stop. Or tourists.”
“Thank you.” She smiled at him. “That’s good to know.”
“No problem.” Frowning, he concentrated on stirring his coffee.
She wanted to tell him not to worry. He wasn’t consorting with the enemy. She was merely another deputy trying to do her job. And contrary to popular belief, whoever was named acting sheriff wasn’t guaranteed a permanent position. The November election would settle that.
In the meantime, they didn’t have to be friends, but it would be nice to have a tension-free work environment. Roy could be decent at times, Danny was a follower, but Wade was a problem. The self-appointed ringleader had quit the department months ago and then returned thinking he’d slide right into the vacant sheriff’s position. Roy wanted the job, too, but when it came down to it, he was no match for Wade.
According to Clarence, Noah didn’t think either man was qualified. But knowing her uncle as she was beginning to, she’d be wise to believe only half of what he told her.
Roy sipped from his chipped blue mug, staring at her over the rim. “You think you’re gonna like it here?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. It’s very different from where I grew up.”
“I’ve been to Texas once,” he said. “But not Arizona.”
“Well, this is the first time I’ve been this far north. It’s pretty country, though I’m not too anxious to drive in snow.”
“Ah, you’ll get used to it. We keep the roads clear.” Roy sat down, which delighted her.
They were both officially off duty. He usually left the moment he finished his report. Instead, they were having a civilized conversation.
“You lived in Tucson, right?”
“No, about eighty miles west of the city. I grew up in a fairly small town. Maybe twice the size of Blackfoot Falls.” Her father had been the sheriff there for thirty-two years before he had retired. Just as her grandfather had held the office before him. It hurt to think she would never carry the torch.
“Were you close to the Mexican border where they have all those drug problems?”
“Close enough to keep us on our toes.” She hoped he didn’t pursue the subject of drugs or anything that would lead to questions about her last job.
“See, I’d take snow over chasing drug dealers or cartel honchos any day,” he said with a grin.
Grace relaxed. “You have an excellent point.”
“Now, I heard you were part of a joint task force with the DEA and Tucson PD. Is that right?”
Her heart sank. Being as truthful as possible was her best bet. “Briefly,” she said, wondering if she was being set up. Had Roy pretended to befriend her to dig for dirt? Or was he just curious? “When the cartels switched routes to ship the drugs north, some of the outlying counties were forced to become involved. We were one of the lucky winners.”
Roy frowned, shaking his head. “That’s rough. I mean, you don’t sign up for that horse pucky, and all of a sudden, it’s on your doorstep. Bet you were glad to leave that crap behind.”
Grace smiled. There was no cunning plot to uncover her past. The guy was simply trying to make conversation.
Her cell rang. She saw it was Clarence and hesitated, not sure she wanted to answer. Though he’d find her eventually.
The second she said, “Hello, Mayor, what can I do for you?” she realized she’d made a face, and that Roy had seen it.
* * *
THE WATERING HOLE was crowded for a Sunday evening, every wobbly table and mismatched chair taken. Grace suspected Rachel’s friends had something to do with the abundance of cowboys sidled up to the old mahogany bar or playing pool in the back room. Katy and the other two bridesmaids were there. So was another woman Grace recognized from the party. The four of them were having a fine time flirting and dancing.
Grace felt badly for occupying a table for forty minutes. But she’d stupidly expected Clarence to show up at 6:30 p.m. like he’d promised. Meeting here hadn’t even been her idea. He’d claimed he wanted her to meet a couple of his friends and, trying to be cordial, she agreed.
Now she was thinking it might’ve been a ploy to force her to get out and mingle with the townsfolk. She had no problem with that since she wanted to get to know people. But in her own good time. In fact, she’d visited The Watering Hole twice already. The drinks were cheap, the people friendly, the decor quaint, but of course, the atmosphere was nothing like the neighborhood bar she’d frequented with her cop buddies in Tucson. The reminder that her life had changed forever depressed her.
On the upside, she liked Sadie, the older woman who owned the place. Most of the area’s hired hands dropped by at some point during the week, and they all knew better than to break one of her rules. It was awesome how she’d get a rabble-rouser to tuck his tail with just a single look.
Grace returned the smile of a good-looking blond cowboy sitting two tables down, eyeing her. If it turned out he couldn’t tell the difference between a friendly smile and a flirty one, she wasn’t worried. He’d cool off the moment he found out she was the new deputy. It had worked like a charm so far.
Taking a sip of her now-warm beer, she waited impatiently for Nikki to deliver pitchers to the pool players. Grace wanted to catch her so she could pay her tab and take off.
The door opened and she glanced over, hoping it wasn’t her uncle. Ben strolled in, pausing, his gaze sweeping the bar. Grace looked down and took another gulp of the disgusting beer. She’d be foolish to think he wouldn’t see her. Even so, he’d most likely ignore her. She’d done something very stupid...stopping Trace and not giving him a ticket...Ben had to have heard...
“It’s Ben!”
Rachel’s friends had perked up. Good. They wouldn’t leave him alone for long.
Chancing a peek, Grace watched Ben head straight to the bar. He spoke with Sadie, his back to everyone. Damn, but the man knew how to wear a pair of jeans. The denim hugged his long legs and butt as though they might’ve been tailored for him. Even the plain black T-shirt stretching across his broad shoulders seemed anything but ordinary.
She wondered if he’d ever wanted to act instead of do someone else’s stunts. He certainly had the looks. But he’d also need the acting chops.
Digging into her pocket for money, she found lip balm and her room key. She tried the other pocket, deciding she needed to get more organized or start carrying a purse. Like that would happen. Finally she pulled out some bills and found a ten.
“Excuse me, ma’am.”
She looked up.
It was the blond guy who’d been watching her. He smiled and touched the brim of his hat. “If you aren’t expecting anyone, I’d sure like to join you.”
“The lady’s waiting for me.” Ben set a frosty mug in front of her, his steady gaze and faint smile daring her to contradict him.
Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t think of anything fast enough.
The cowboy nodded at Ben, then returned to his table. Ben pulled out the chair across from her and sat down with his beer.
She raised her brows at him. “What makes you think I’m not expecting someone?”
“Sadie said you’ve been sitting here for quite a while.”
Figures. Grace looked toward the back. Nikki was taking forever. “Actually, I was just leaving.”
“You can’t have one beer with me?”
At his brusque tone, Grace stiffened. “Sure,” she said and met his detached gaze. She had the feeling her earlier error in judgment was about to take a bite out of her. Not that she had to explain herself to him. Damned if she’d do that.
