Rocky Mountain Redemption (12 page)

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Authors: Pamela Nissen

BOOK: Rocky Mountain Redemption
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If not for the fact that she felt her resolve fade away
whenever she was around him, she might be able to do just that.

Though a good three feet still remained between them, they may as well have been nose to nose. Her heart fluttered madly inside her chest. The distance between them seemed charged with a force she was sure she could touch, its command so real and powerful that she had a difficult time breathing.

A sudden shyness crept over her. She glanced down at her dress, fingering the fine fabric between her thumb and forefinger. “I've worn this before,” she mumbled. If she'd been any more ridiculously inane right then, she might have won some kind of award for it.

“I know.” He nodded, one side of his mouth curving up in one of those devastating sideways grins of his that made her knees all weak and stomach all aflutter. “You look beautiful.”

Max had said that kind of thing to her early on in their relationship. But never—
never
had his words matched the look in his eyes, like Ben's did now.

Pulling in a steadying breath, she grasped at her wilting resolve before it fell completely away from her. She made a mad dash, groping for a way out from the strangely consuming emotions he induced inside her.

“I must say, you're getting better with your compliments, Doctor Drake,” she managed, her voice trembling. “From—how did you put it—‘You look completely worn out, pale, and your eyes are red,' to this,” she blurted, trying desperately to douse the mind-numbing, heated intensity that seemed to build whenever they were in close proximity.

“That's not fair.” He slid one breathtaking step closer. “When I said those things, I was making a medical
statement of fact. Trying to get through that stubborn head of yours that you had no business being up when you were so sick.”

She willed her hands to grow still. “And I thank you for your concern. But I'm none the worse for the wear. Am I?”

He shook his head. “You give
stubborn
a whole new meaning.” Dragging in a breath, he moved to grab her cloak and hold it out for her. The soft edge of a grin tugged at his mouth. “Are you ready to go?”

“Absolutely,” she answered sweetly with a smile, as he covered her with the warm wool. “Will Katie be there?”

“Oh, yes. She loves to dance. So does Joseph.”

Before she even knew it, he was securing the ties of her cloak at her neck, the errant, featherlight brush of his fingers against her skin sending heated sparks straight through her again.

She willed her mind to stay clear of the emotions she felt at the moment. “Really? Without his sight?”

He held the door open for her as he picked up the basket of food and followed her out. “Without his sight.”

“Well, that's remarkable. The first time I met Joseph, it was a few moments before I even realized he was blind.” Peering at Ben, she couldn't miss the sudden, far-off look that had half shuttered his gaze.

“He has a remarkable ability to look you in the eye, doesn't he?” His voice had grown tight and strained.

“Ben? Is there something wrong?”

“No.” His quick retort was far from convincing.

Something had altered the fine mood he'd been in just moments ago, and Ben wasn't given to being moody.

“What's bothering you?” she tried again. “You can tell me.”

“It's nothing,” he ground out through tightly clenched teeth as he stepped down from the porch.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Let's get going.” He turned around and gave her an are-you-coming kind of look.

Callie threaded her arms at her chest and planted her feet. She nailed him with the most serious look she could muster. “Is this how this works? You can pry and prod to try and get me to spill my heart, but the same rules don't apply to you?”

“It's not that, Callie. And I certainly haven't pried or prodded.” He raked a hand through his dark hair. “I've been very
careful
with you.”

“I'm choosing to ignore that you've been
careful
with me.” Failing miserably, she stalked to the front of the porch. “I don't want to be treated as though I'm fragile.”

His wide-eyed look made her cringe. “Can you honestly say that you wouldn't have taken off if I had been pushy?”

“Maybe,” she forced through clenched teeth.

He tilted his head, quirking one dark eyebrow.

“All right. So I would have.” She jammed her hands on her hips. “But what about you, Ben? Here you are, obviously bothered by something all of a sudden, and I… Well, I just wanted to help. That's all.”

Ben unceremoniously set the basket down on the ground and clenched his fists. “You want to know?”

“I wouldn't have asked otherwise.”

He gave a shuddering sigh. “Every single time I see Joseph, whether it's at church, in his home, in his wood shop, or out and about on the streets of Boulder,” he
added, fanning an arm in one giant, sweeping gesture toward the heart of town, “I feel responsible for the fact that he can't see more than the dull gray shadows he does.”

“Responsible? Why?”

Ben dragged a hand over his squared jaw. “Isn't it obvious? There must've been
something
that I missed.
Something
I could've done for him that would've made a difference.” Even in the fading light she could see his jaw clench, his hands fist at his sides. “If only I'd had more training. Or done something differently.”

“Does he blame you?” she asked in stunned disbelief.

She didn't know Joseph Drake well at all, but she couldn't imagine him casting even the slightest bit of blame Ben's way.

“No. He's never said so.” He shook his head slowly then added, “But, then, Joseph's a big enough man that he wouldn't admit to it even if he did feel that way.”

An odd sense of anger built inside her. Not at Joseph. Not at Ben. But at the very idea that Ben had been on the losing end of a lie.

“Then why are you blaming yourself?” She stepped down and came to stand in front of him. Made bold by her resolve, she reached out and grasped his hand. “I've seen you work, Ben. You're so thorough and attentive with all of your patients. Boulder is lucky to have you around.” Her chest tightened with emotion as she gave his hand a warm squeeze. “You're a wonderful physician. You have to believe that.”

His mouth formed a harsh, unforgiving line as he stared down at where she held his hand. “But I couldn't save my own brother from a life of groping around in
the darkness. I couldn't protect him from the life he now faces.”

“But you did all you knew to do. And from what Katie's said, you brought her into Joseph's life,” she added, desperate to ease his guilt. She swallowed hard. “You gave him a gift. Love. That's more than some people will ever hope to know.”

Was it more than she could ever hope for?

Chapter Twelve

B
en had never told another soul about the guilt he carried. Not Aaron, not Zach, and certainly not Joseph. There wasn't an ounce of self-pity attached to his struggle, but with each additional failure he met, the sense of responsibility and regret he carried haunted him with greater ferocity.

No matter how successful he was at his profession, no matter what praise others had given him, he'd let his family down. He was desperate for a way out of the shame and regret that had him trapped.

He hadn't felt inclined to offer another word of explanation as they walked, side by side, to the town hall. But for the distance between them, he may as well have been on the other side of the Flatirons. When they'd arrived at the already crowded town hall, Ben had to force his bad mood aside. For Callie. He was pretty sure, from the excitement lighting her face when he'd first arrived to pick her up, that she'd been looking forward to this evening.

He'd been looking forward to this, as well. It'd been three weeks since Callie had first come into his life. And in that short amount of time he'd grown very fond
of her. The spirited way she met a challenge, like when Mrs. Duncan had come to the office to steep information from her. The brave way she faced an uncomfortable circumstance, as she had with the birth of the Nolte baby. The deep, almost childlike need she had for friendship, yet refused to acknowledge.

And then there was the way her eyes, recently, had begun to light up whenever she caught sight of him. He could tell that she'd try to snuff out the telling glow. Had cleverly found ways to busy herself in order to avoid him. But he'd be willing to wager the house, the farm and the whole town of Boulder that she felt the same innate, powerful attraction as he did.

He remembered that first night she'd shown up, the way his heart had been pierced by one look in her blue eyes. For all the stubbornness, strength and willful tilt of her chin, she had gripped his heart and mind without even trying.

Ben had spent a good amount of time praying about what purpose God had for him in all of this. Would God defy all of Ben's reason and lead Max's widow straight into his arms? Could he trust God with the outcome of all of this? Ben was committed to finding a way through this and had to trust that God was committed to the very same thing.

Even last night when he'd prayed about his relationship with Callie, he'd felt like God reminded him of the Old Testament Scripture addressing the issue of widowhood. Where God charged the husband's brother to take the widow for his own wife. To see after her. To protect her.

Ben would never presume to know God's plan, but he couldn't help but wonder if he was living out that Scripture.

He didn't consider himself a hero. A martyr. Or even a strict religious man. Just a man who knew God. A man with compassion. And, as they entered the newly built structure, a man with a growing amount of love for a certain young woman who'd shown up on his doorstep like some lost and lonely stray.

If only he could put to rest the lingering question as to her honesty. He'd tried to ignore the missing stethoscope here, the vial of medicine there and the other things that had gone missing over the past three weeks, but he couldn't deny the uncanny, oddly coincidental timing of it all.

“I been wonderin' if you was comin',” Luke exclaimed, his booted feet clomping over the wood floor as he rushed up to meet them.

“You were, huh?” Ben smiled down at the boy.

Seeing Mrs. Duncan just ahead, he nodded in greeting as she stood gaping at him and Callie as if she were preparing to paint a portrait of them. In some ways, Ben figured with a wry grin, she probably was. It was common knowledge that the woman was the hub, self-proclaimed and generally recognized, for gossip in this town. With her colorful descriptions and deep-hued intrigue, she'd painted plenty a portrait. Most of which he didn't pay any attention to.

“How are those kittens coming along?” He reached down to give the boy's shoulder a squeeze, relieved to notice that the hearty meals Callie had set in front of the lad were starting to pay off.

“Jest fine. They're growin' up real fast. Had to get a bigger box to put 'em in and everything.”

“Really?” Ben replied.

“Yep or they'd be jumpin' out everywhere. Then they'd prolly go and get theirselves lost.”

“They're definitely growing fast,” Callie remarked.

“I wonder jest how heavy they are…” When the boy grabbed his shapeless, threadbare hat from his head to scratch his blond mop, Ben made a silent note to purchase a warm hat, mittens and a scarf for Luke tomorrow. “You'd be real proud, Ben. I been doctorin' 'em some, and they're doin' jest fine.”

“I am proud of you, Luke.” Ben looked him in the eye, man-to-man, wishing that Luke's mother could see what a treasure she had in Luke. “Very proud.”

“You want me to bring 'em by again so you can see 'em, Miss Callie?” he asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Of course.”

“Bring them with you anytime,” Ben added then slid a subtle glance around the room, hoping that maybe his ma had shown up for Luke's sake. “Is your ma here with you, Luke?”

His ma had never been one for attending church functions, town functions, or any other function Boulder might have. She kept late, active hours, mostly with men-folk from out of town. She was usually too hung over during the day to do much socializing. Or housekeeping. Or parenting.

Ben's jaw bunched at the thought. His pulse fired a rapid, ugly rhythm in his veins. He had a great deal of sympathy for the poor folks who struggled to provide enough food, yet still found plenty of love to go around. He'd just never understand how a mother could disregard her own child so thoughtlessly.

“Naw…she's sleepin'. Been sleepin' all day, so I decided to come down myself.”

“Why don't you join us for dinner, then?” Ben suggested.

“Can we sit over there with Mr. Joseph and Miss Katie?” Luke pointed to the far end of a long line of tables, where Joseph and Katie were sitting. “He said he was gonna teach me to write my name usin' them funny dots he's gone and learnt.”

“Sure we can.” Ben felt a small tugging at his heart as he ushered Callie and Luke around the gathering crowd. After a chorus of greetings and hugs, they'd barely gotten seated when Luke shifted a shade closer to Joseph and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey there, partner.” Joseph draped an arm on the bench behind Luke.

“I'm ready.” Luke sat stock straight on the long bench, his hands fastened around the hole-riddled hat in his lap.

Ben glanced to his left to see Callie holding a hand over her mouth, her beautiful eyes dancing with amusement.

“Ready?” Joseph furrowed his brow and angled his head as if trying to gather Luke's meaning. “For what?”

Ben had to chuckle when Luke slid him a wide-eyed, what-do-I-do-now expression.

“Seems that Luke's eager to learn how to write his name in Braille,” Ben explained, giving the lad a how'd-I-do nod.

“Well, sure. But you've got to promise not to show anyone.” Joseph set his hand on Luke's mop of hair. “It'll be our secret little code.”

When the first dance began after dinner, Ben turned to find Callie watching him, her eyes so full of hope and joy that he had to swallow hard. Had there been no lanterns, the unrestrained smile lighting her face could've illuminated the room.

With his gaze firmly locked on hers, he strode over to where she stood with Katie, wanting nothing more than to have the valid, acceptable excuse of a dance to hold Callie in his arms. “Would you care to dance?”

For a brief moment, as her attention drifted to the edge of the crowd where Aaron stood rock still and staring right at them, he thought she was going to refuse him. He wouldn't blame her if she had. Aaron was being as rude as he could be to her, and Ben was determined to put a swift end to the silent protest and discourteous behavior just as soon as he had a chance.

“Yes, thank you.”

He led her onto the table-cleared dance floor, joining the others who'd already begun a lilting waltz.

“You dance very well, Ben.” Her alluring glance was cloaked in a shyness she seemed completely unaware of. She displayed no coyness, no predictable batting of her eyelashes or demure side glances to tempt.

No. This beautiful woman in his arms was without pretense or pomp. She was just Callie.

“Thank you. As do you.” Ben gave her a slow, easy grin, loving the way her mouth and cheeks suddenly went all tight. “Where did you learn how to dance so well?”

She focused on where he clasped her hand. “Max taught me.”

He chuckled as long ago memories trickled into his thoughts. “Max always did enjoy going to town dances. As long as I can remember, he enjoyed them.” He gave her hand a tender squeeze. “I suppose he dragged you to every dance there was to attend?”

She slowly met his gaze, the rosy color in her cheeks fading some. “Before we were married, yes. And we always had so much fun.” Swallowing, she lifted her
chin ever so slightly. “But once we married he wouldn't go anymore.”

“I can't imagine Max passing up a dance.” He furrowed his brow, grasping her hand a little tighter. “I'm sorry, Callie.”

On a sigh, she smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes like it had only moments ago. “There's nothing for you to be sorry about. Max just found other things he thought were more enjoyable.”

Ben gradually swept her to the fringe of dancers. He pulled her a shade closer, just on the edge of being considered inappropriate, though right now, he didn't much care. Not when all he wanted to do was to bring Callie a small bit of comfort.

“Callie, remember…we're talking about my brother here,” he acknowledged, slowing to a stop. He settled his gaze firmly on hers so that she wouldn't look away. “If you wanted to go…well, then, Max should've whisked you off to every dance there was to be found. But he didn't—for some selfish reason—and for that I am very sorry.”

“Thank you,” she finally managed after a long and weighty silence. “But let's not talk about all of that tonight. It's too wonderful in here to darken it with those silly old memories,” she added, the warm glow from the room flickering in her deep blue eyes.

His chest tightened at the way she was making such a valiant effort to dismiss history's sting.

How much had Callie missed out on over the years because of Max? Town dinners? Church functions? Special nights out? Romantic dances? Just how little had Max cherished Callie and seen to her desires and needs? Had he merely cloistered her within the four walls of
their home, giving her no opportunity to socialize with others?

A life like that would be torment for a woman like Callie. She was strong and smart. Given the time to trust and the courage to spread her wings, she would pale other women with her ready wit, intelligent responses and her resourceful approach to life. And the simple yet striking beauty that indelibly marked her outward appearance would be hard to match. Anywhere.

Pulling in a breath, he cleared his throat of the thick wad of emotion. “All right. For you, Miss Callie, the night has just begun. And if you want to dance every single dance I will gladly oblige.”

She blinked hard, a softness stealing over the remnant of bitter memories etched on her face. “It's a perfect evening, Ben. Thank you.”

He slid his gaze down to her neck where her creamy white skin colored to a tempting shade of pink. Folding her hand in his, he felt the slightest, almost undetectable tremble there, and a lingering feeling of satisfaction stole completely over him.

He loved the way she responded to him. The tiny shudders. The trembling. The shy glances filled with longing.

He'd completely broken his own standard. Where he'd once decided that he rather liked being single, he now felt a strange sense of being unfulfilled—as if he needed Callie to be complete. He wasn't thinking with his head, but with his heart, and though he'd cheered both Joseph and Aaron on when they'd done the same and found their brides, he now wondered if it was a safe path to follow.

He peered down at Callie again as another song began, maneuvering her between the other couples. The
slow and steady way she seemed to relax in his arms, as if she found a long-awaited security there as the night wore on, made his heart lurch. He wanted her to find security and trust in his arms. And love.

He—Ben Drake—wanted Callie to find love in the center of his embrace.

At that startling revelation, his mind spun. The music seemed to fade into the background, the other dancers and people, too.

Except for Aaron.

When Ben had turned Callie around in a graceful sweep just seconds ago, he'd come face-to-face with his brother. The pointed, unrelenting look on Aaron's face could've frozen spring's first sprigs of grass on the spot. It was all Ben could do not to react. For the remainder of the evening he avoided Aaron's attention, setting his focus completely on Callie. He wasn't about to let his brother's morose mood ruin her night.

When the last dance of the evening came to an end, he set his hand to the small of Callie's back and ushered her protectively over to where Katie and Joseph stood with Luke. Excusing himself, he stalked to where Aaron stood alone as some silent sentry.

“Who nominated you to head up the cheerful committee?” Ben forced through clenched teeth.

Aaron snorted, rolling his eyes in disgust.

Ben stood directly in front of him so as to block out the unpleasant view from curious others who milled about as if they wished the night had only just begun. “So, what's with the glowering mood tonight? Care to tell me? Or not? Either way, I'm not leaving you alone till you do.”

Aaron narrowed his eyes. “I'm pretty sure it's nothin' you'd want to know about.”

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