Benjamin (4 page)

Being with other people made her feel and brought her emotions to the surface. Control slipped through her fingers and she had to let it happen.

She started searching their surroundings for a likely place to spend the night. Regardless of whether she wanted to, they couldn’t continue in the dark or risk their horses.

The one thing she could do was find a safe place to sleep for the night. After spotting an ideal spot, she headed for the grassy spot under some trees. A large rock separated it from a larger open space, which would be a good wind block.

“Where the hell are you going?”

She didn’t slow her pace. “Setting up camp.”

“I thought you were in a hurry.”

She pulled her horse to a stop and dismounted without responding. The man must know they couldn’t proceed at night. He wasn’t an idiot. Or all least, she hoped he wasn’t. Given how smart his sister was, it seemed likely he was intelligent as well. Besides, Grace wasn’t used to telling anyone what she was doing or why.

She pulled the saddle off the gelding she now thought of as Swift. She grimaced at the idea that Ben had named the horse. She hadn’t given it a moniker because she assumed she wouldn’t have it for long. She didn’t want to get attached since nothing in her life had ever seemed permanent. Yet it’d been a year. Swift didn’t have the speed of the horse she’d lost when she raced and lost to Catherine Graham. Yet the gelding had heart and a gentle temperament.

She was rubbing down Swift when Ben spoke again. She’d heard him ride on, then ride back. She almost wanted to grin but it wasn’t really a victory. They would be spending the night together, the one thing she didn’t want. But she would endure. Grace was a survivor. There was much she could get through. Sleeping near this man was minor compared to other things she’d endured. She ran a finger along the scar on her neck.

Minor for certain.

“We could’ve ridden another hour.” His tone was accusatory.

She set the cloth down on the saddle and led the gelding to the very tiny creek that was barely more than a puddle. Swift lapped up the water with an enthusiastic horse sigh.

“Damn it.” He had more to say but it was under his breath and no more than a murmur. She didn’t want to hear it anyway.

Paladin nudged his way beside the other horse to drink. Grace was pushed in turn by Swift and landed on her behind. Hard. Her teeth clacked together, sending a sharp pain up into her skull.

She got to her feet and wiped off her trousers. Ben didn’t glance at her as he unsaddled his horse. Just as well; she didn’t need his concern. She’d disguised herself as a man for a year and not once did anyone offer to pick her up off the ground. Why would today be any different?

A small ache echoed through her lower back. Figured she’d hurt herself and would have to sit on a horse for days with a sore behind. Damn.

“I’ll get a fire started.”

A grunt was the only sign he acknowledged her words. With less than charitable thoughts about Ben Graham, she gathered kindling and set about constructing a small fire pit in the shelter of the large boulder. The winds were calm and it was ideal to build a small blaze.

Grace took some solace in the mundane task. She was proud of the skills she’d learned to take care of herself. There wasn’t anything she was hesitant to do, even if it meant bloodying her hands. She’d long since given up on feeling anything but hate, desperation, and revenge.

There wasn’t room for anything else.

“A fire isn’t a smart idea.” Ben dropped his saddle on the ground.

“It’s gonna be cool tonight, a taste of fall I think. We need hot food and coffee.” She dug into her saddlebags for the dented coffee pot. It had a leak right below the spout but she learned to pour out a little sideways, although she’d burned herself several times.

“I thought you were tough. Lived like a
real
man for a year.” Ben sat, crossing his ankles and leaning against the saddle. From three feet away, he was enormous. The shadows beneath the brim of his hat hid his expression.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t get cold.” She fed more kindling into the fire.

“You’re sending out a signal in the dark.”

She narrowed her gaze. “A signal to who?”

“Whoever is following us.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. “No one is following us.” She resisted the urge to peer into the twilight. She had always been careful, almost too careful, and to her knowledge, no one had ever been able to track her.

He didn’t respond except to continue to spear her with an eerie gaze.

Keeping her outward calm, although her stomach danced with anxiety, Grace used a rock to crush coffee beans, then scooped them into the pot. As the fire grew larger, she got to her feet to scout for larger pieces of wood.

“Where are you going?”

She decided that the man chose to annoy her. To keep her off balance. She huffed an impatient breath and went about her task.

“Somebody has to gather wood for the fire.”

She stomped around in the dark, finding sticks and larger chunks of wood and filled her arms. She’d be damned if she let him tell her when to build camp or if she could have a fire. Grace was a grown woman who’d taken care of herself all her life. Ben didn’t need to worry about her or how she did things.

Grace returned with an armload of wood to find him kicking dirt on the fire. Anger ripped through her. How dare he?

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Get down and shut up.” He yanked her to the ground, spilling the wood everywhere. His hard body covered hers and pushed her into the loamy earth.

‡

B
en held her
down with more effort than he expected. She was taller than most women, and strong. Very strong. Amidst her struggling against his hold, he could feel the curves of the female form beneath him.

He told his body not to react. It took every single speck of control to maintain his position. He wanted to savor the feeling of being on top of a woman, but the survivor in him pushed away need. As it always did.

She tried to knee him in the balls. “Get off me.”

He blocked her with a hip. Damn, the woman had knees like knives. “Shut up and listen,” he hissed.

The unmistakable sound of horses. Of men.

Her eyes widened, the green eyes bright against the color of the twilight sky around them. Thankfully she stopped fighting him and their position became something else altogether. Ben was on top of her from head to foot, pressing down into her feminine form.

It was heaven. It was hell. It was unbearable.

It was the closest he’d ever been with a woman other than family. Physical interaction was something he avoided, no matter whom he was with. Now he was the one who’d initiated the touching, which was more of a tackle than a touch. His gut tightened along with various other parts of him. There wasn’t a single moment of time to have this experience yet it was happening.

And he wasn’t sure he wanted to stop. Yet danger was around them.

The horses weren’t very close but if there’d been light or smoke from a fire, the people riding would have found them. He didn’t know who it was and it didn’t matter. Ben hadn’t seen anyone the last few months unless he chose to. Until she came along. Grace. Or Duffy. Whoever the hell she was.

She’d ruined everything.

He’d been content to live his life in the shadows, but she shifted the earth beneath his feet. The thought of her child, little Henry, in the hands of a Cunningham filled him with enough rage to burn the state of Texas.

He couldn’t look into her eyes any more. She made him want to kiss her and confess everything, which was ridiculous because he didn’t even know her. But he wanted her to understand what her son went through, was enduring, so she could help him. He was being pulled in two different directions and it was tearing him apart.

Ben hadn’t been able to tell his family about what happened until recently. After he’d beaten Manfred Cunningham to death, he was caught in a tornado of agony. He’d told his sister Catherine some of it, too much, too little, enough that she’d seen fit to send Grace after him. That didn’t mean he couldn’t or shouldn’t help the child.

Damn it.

She pinched his arm hard. When he turned his gaze back to her the question hovered in her green eyes.

Who is out there?

He shook his head. All he knew was they needed to remain hidden at all costs. She pinched him again. This time it hurt worse since she did it in the same spot.

“Stop it.” His whisper was barely more than the sound of a breath.

“Let me up.” Hers was even softer.

The jangle of a bridle was punctuated by male laughter. He stared into Grace’s eyes and willed her to cease. Their lives, and the life of her son, could be forfeit if she didn’t. She had to understand he didn’t want to be on top of her any more than she wanted him there. He shifted and he nestled between her legs even more.

Shit, shit, shit.

His heart beat a staccato rhythm as he waited second by painful second for the sounds of the men and horses to move away. The entire time, which was probably ten minutes but felt like ten hours, he was pressed against her. Ben had only meant to hide both of them, not to have the most erotic moment of his life.

Danger must have addled his brain. She wasn’t the most attractive female and certainly her form was not lush curves of a woman. Yet his traitorous body still reacted as though a cannon had gone off, hard and hot. Perhaps it was because he’d never experienced the feel of a woman beneath him, clothed or not.

Ben was too broken inside to become involved with a woman, any woman. There was no reason to think Grace Bennett, or whoever she was, could yank him from his self-imposed celibacy. Except, of course, for how he’d reacted when he’d touched her.

He closed his eyes and willed away the arousal. It didn’t work well, particularly when she breathed, which in turn pushed her breasts into his chest.

Holy Christ.

The threat of the men forgotten, he jumped to his feet. There was no way he could lie there on top of her for even a second longer or he would lose control and do something really stupid. Like kiss her. As a few leaves fluttered in the air from his sudden movements, she waved at them as she stared up at him in confusion.

“Gone?”

Ben realized he’d put them both at risk by running from his reaction to her body. It was physical, nothing more. He wasn’t attracted to her, because he couldn’t be. Or hadn’t been. Shit, he was more than confused.

Fortunately for both of them, it seemed the men were gone. He let the anger seep into his bones and ooze from his skin. It was better than sexual arousal he didn’t want invading his life.

“No more fires.” He spoke in a harsh whisper, unwilling to raise his voice and call attention to them.

“Who was that?” She got to her feet and swiped at the dirt and leaves clinging to her trousers and shirt.

“I don’t know and I don’t care. Whoever they were, you almost got us found because you wanted fucking
coffee
.” His ears hurt from the force of the blood pumping through him. Being angry was good. It helped him focus. Being off balance because of her was unacceptable. He couldn’t let it happen again.

Her cheeks blazed a dark pink color. “
I
wasn’t followed so I wasn’t expecting to be forced to the ground for wanting some hot food. That means whoever they are, they’re following
you
.” She thrust one pointy finger against his chest. “Don’t blame me because you’re a wanted man.”

Her words stung, more because it was true than because of the way the furious whisper erupted from her mouth.

“Nobody knew where I was until you found me.”

She snorted. “You’re not invisible, Benjamin Graham.” She waved her hand. “Those men might’ve been just passing through and your guilty conscience turned it into a posse.”

He gritted his teeth and looked away. “I’ve seen posses come through here every couple weeks. One just this morning, and they sure as hell weren’t just passing through.”

Her hair had come loose from the tight braid and clumps of it bounced as she glared at him, shaking her head. “That didn’t give you the right to throw me to the ground and hold me against my will.”

Ben refused to get pulled into a ridiculous argument with her, especially one done through whispers. He turned his back and walked to Paladin, gut churning and body throbbing with the aftermath of the last five minutes. The horse greeted him with a toss of its mane.

She was right and he knew it. That didn’t mean he had to like it. His sisters, sisters-in-law, and Eva would be properly horrified by his behavior with Grace. The ache to see his family hit him, sharp and unwelcome.

He didn’t need to be distracted by thoughts of home. It was Grace’s fault. She had brought with her memories and stirred the hornet’s nest in his heart. Damn her.

What was he going to do?

*