Rocky Mountain Redemption (5 page)

He dropped the wooden spoon in the pan and braced his hands against the counter, attempting yet again to convince himself that he was merely concerned for her as a patient.

Hauling in a deep, stabilizing breath, he glanced down as Molly and Smudge meowed sweetly at his feet, curling their thick tails in feline affection around his legs.

Who was he trying to kid?

He felt an unrelenting draw to her that plagued his every thought, making him wonder if he might well be getting himself in too deep.

The empty sadness he'd seen waft like some dark wraith across her face when she'd spoken of her upbringing tugged at his heart. What secrets did her past hold?

She'd grown up with privilege. And she was clearly uncomfortable with any action that could be viewed as charity. He couldn't miss the way she'd flinched at his touch. Nor had he missed the way her eyes had lit with awe then instant shame when he'd mentioned both the meal and bath. It was as if she didn't want to make herself vulnerable enough to receive help…so much like the strays he'd taken in. Often times he'd have to coax them to eat, even when their ribs protruded in glaring proof of starvation.

Ben recalled the way he'd found Callie that first night. In spite of her tangled hair, tattered appearance and puzzling background, he'd felt pulled by some unseen force to help her.

To save her.

Just like the scrawny kittens that had shown up.

He gave a short laugh and loosened his fists, reflecting on how this little lady had loosened his ordered world a few notches, turning his life upside down in less than two days.

Maybe he was the one who needed saving.

When he peered down at his feline companions, Smudge gave him one of those I'm-as-cute-as-a-button squinty-eyed looks while Molly stared wide-eyed up at him, as though he owned a pond full of tasty fish for the eating. He hunkered down and stroked their fur, tracing the ragged scar on Molly's neck that had been a festering wound when she'd come to him. He looked at the irregular kink crooking Smudge's front leg, saddened to think of what these two had suffered.

He couldn't help but open his heart to them when they'd shown up. And they seemed to know it, too, because like most all the animals that came his way, these kittens had somehow known they could trust him.

He peered through the kitchen window toward his office, and his chest tightened. Was Callie one of those strays? Had she scraped her way through life and, by providential design, landed on his doorstep?

 

Callie's pride prickled from head to toe. “I could never take these garments from you, Katie.”

Katie sat on the bed behind her, gliding a brush through Callie's freshly washed hair. “Sure you can. Besides, I really want you to have them.”

She ran a hand over the sturdy, attractive fabrics. “They're far too nice to give away.”

“Ben said something about you being stubborn,”
Katie remarked, threading her fingers through Callie's hair. “He just didn't say
how
stubborn.”

Having figured out long ago that her existence hinged on a firm resolve to keep moving forward, no matter what, she'd gladly embraced stubbornness like some lifeline.

When she slid her gaze from the lavender day dress to the emerald-green dress and then to the soft, white eyelet undergarments, she knew each item would be perfect. She hadn't seen clothing like this for seven years. And she sure hadn't felt cared for like this in almost as long.

But she already owed Ben—even though he'd said it was part of the job. She didn't want to take charity. Didn't want to be in debt to someone else. Not for a single cent. Not even for a single stitch of much needed clothing.

“Barring some unforeseen fortune splashing at my feet, it'd be a month's worth of paydays before I could afford a new dress, let alone nice undergarments,” she admitted reluctantly. Even when she'd paid off Max's gambling debt, she wasn't about to spend her earnings frivolously on new garments. She had her future to think of.

Katie smiled. “Then you can look at this as a timely provision. But with the way you swim in this nightdress,” she responded, plucking at the cream-colored flannel material, “I'm worried if the other items will even fit, you're so slight.”

The simple nightdress whispered against Callie's skin like luxurious silk. “This is very comfortable, Katie, and I'm sure the other items will be absolutely fine. But I—”

“I've already shortened things a few inches since Ben
said you weren't much over five feet. If they're still too big, then I'll help you alter them.”

Her chest grew tight and her eyes stung with ready shame. In all the years of living on the edge of destitution with Max, she'd avoided charity, while Max would seek it out.

“I want to tell you something.” Katie drew the covers back, gesturing for Callie to lie down. “I don't know how long you'll be here working for Ben—”

“I'm not sure either,” Callie noted with a sniff as she scooted down into the fresh linens.

“Well, however long it is, the Drake family is first in line when it comes to helping others. Believe me…I'm blessed to have married into such a wonderful family. And you are fortunate to be employed by such a fine man as Ben Drake.”

Everything she'd ever heard from Max would lead her to suppose the exact opposite. She'd already made one severe, life-altering error in judgment regarding Max's character. She wasn't about to be fooled like that ever again.

But three days with Ben, and already she had inarguable reservations as to Max's sordid opinion.

Not just because of the tender way Ben had cared for her or the gesture of kindness he'd shown by not taking the locket, but it was the unsettling look of gentleness she'd seen deep in his eyes that stood in direct contrast to what she'd believed.

She sighed. She couldn't deny Ben's sincerity. And certainly couldn't seem to escape his earnest gestures of compassion and care, though she'd tried.

Maybe she could enjoy just a few days of refreshing. Time to collect herself, heal and firm up her determination to make the best of what lay ahead. To find out who
Callie Drake really was after years of being first under her father's strict hand, then Max's harsh one.

Though until she left Boulder, she'd just have to stay alert, keep a watchful eye. If she let her guard down completely, she could well walk out of this town with nothing, not even the scrap of dignity she clung to like some shredded lifeline.

“I guess what I'm trying to say is…” Katie's voice slipped through Callie's thoughts. “That if for some reason you oppose the idea of others looking out for you and treating you well, you might as well let that go right now, because it's bound to happen more often than not with the Drake family.”

Callie nibbled at her lower lip, unsettled by how emotionally raw she'd felt the last couple of days.

“Believe me when I say that Ben has needed help around here for quite a while. He's talked about hiring someone for months, but has never gotten around to it.” Katie moved to the knotty pine chest at the foot of the bed then began laying the garments she'd brought inside it. When she closed the chest with a quiet click, Callie felt utterly helpless to summon an argument. “That man keeps so busy that it would take an enormous weight off him to know that things here and at his home are being tended to as they should.”

At those words, an instant swell of compassion-driven duty rose within Callie. After all, she owed Ben. Not just because he'd cared for her while she was sick, but also because he'd taken her in. A total stranger. And he'd tended her with a gentleness that had her broaching tears more than once. If the truth be told, he'd probably even saved her life.

Pulling her damp hair to the side to dry across her pillow, she decided that just as soon as she was the
slightest bit stronger, she'd get to work cleaning and cooking. She'd steer clear of him. Fade into the background, as she had the past six months at the brothel. Hopefully he'd forget that she was even here. No one would give her a second thought.

“You know, Callie,” Katie began, perching her hands on her hips. A wistful smile stole across her face as she eyed Callie in a way that had her squirming. “I think that you may have arrived just in time for Ben.”

“I
was about to send the cavalry after you.” Ben left Joseph in his wake, meeting Katie as she entered the front door of his house. “What happened? Did you lose Callie in the tub?”

She gave an innocent smile and edged around him. “She's a slight thing, but no, I didn't lose her. You know how girls can be.” Waving a slender hand in the air, she moved toward Joseph. “Talk, talk, talk.”

Ben pivoted, peering out a side window to his doctor's office next door where Callie was now. He turned and followed Katie to the dining table. “I was beginning to worry.”

“Beginning?” Joseph focused his sightless gaze at his wife then arched an eyebrow Ben's way. “You started worrying the minute you left her side and came over here to wait. You're a dead giveaway when you're nervous, you know. Pacing and clearing your throat the way you do.”

Ben produced a half-hearted frown. “And
you
are too observant for your own good.”

With a self-satisfied grin, Joseph lifted Katie's cloak from her shoulders and draped it over the chair. “I can't
help it that my other senses are so sharp. I come by it naturally.”

Ben sighed. “Katie, maybe you ought to give him a lesson in humility. Seems like he's a little weak in that area.”

“Believe me, I don't need her to do that. All I have to do is make an embarrassing mess of things, like last Sunday at church, and my feet are firmly planted on the ground.” Joseph raked a hand through his chestnut hair.

“What happened this time?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Well, sure I do.”

On a heavy sigh, Joseph shook his head. “I was introducing myself to a newcomer and I reached out to shake her hand, but it wasn't her hand I touched.”

Ben grimaced. “You didn't.”

“I did.” Joseph pinched the bridge of his nose. “I touched her—her bosom,” he ground out. “That's not even polite to say in mixed company. Sorry, darlin',” he added with absolute sincerity to Katie.

The way she looked up at Joseph with undeniable adoration was something to see. And snagged at Ben's own yearning for the same.

At twenty-nine, he could've married several times over, but after a difficult end to a relationship while he was away at school, he'd decided to bypass that aisle. And with as much as his practice had grown, he could easily distract himself from the loneliness he felt at times, by throwing himself into his work and his patients.

Unfortunately a certain five-foot-two-inch, auburn-haired, blue-eyed patient residing in the living quarters
of his office next door presented a bit of a problem. He was distracted completely by Callie's presence.

“I could've crawled out of the church,” Joseph finished.

Grabbing the two empty mugs from the table, Ben couldn't help chuckling. “So, what did you do?”

“Apologized. What do you think? Then held my head high and made some small talk as if nothing had happened.”

“If it's any consolation, I don't think she realized you were blind until…well, until that,” Katie offered, stacking the plates and bowls and setting them in the basin, too. “She looked as shocked as you did.”

“There's the silver lining.” Ben clapped his brother on the arm. “You've been working hard at gauging where to aim your focus. Sounds like you're doing a great job—at least where your eyes are concerned, anyway.”

“Very funny.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, Joseph shook his head. “Next time I'll remember to hold my hand out and let the other person do the grabbing.”

Inwardly, Ben was thankful to see the ease with which Joseph was handling his blindness. He was adjusting well. Though he could see some dim shadows, he was pretty much dependent on his other senses. And with the help of his wife, who'd come to him as a teacher of the blind, he'd made huge strides toward independence.

“So, Callie is back in bed, right?” He swung his focus back to the conversation.

“I gave her a fresh glass of water and tucked her in. Satisfied, Doctor Drake?” Katie teased.

Ben gave one swift nod. “As weak as she is, I want to make sure she doesn't overdo it.”

“She didn't. We were just getting to know each other, that's all. She seems very nice, but you were right. She's a proud young woman.” Katie tucked strands of blond waves into where she'd swept it up at the back of her head. “She almost refused to take the clothes I brought over. And she's determined to pay you for everything. Once she's on her feet again, I'm guessing she'll be a tough one to corner long enough to get her to open up.”

He frowned. “That's what has me worried.”

“I thought so,” Joseph gibed with one raised brow. “You're taken by her, aren't you?”

Ben shrugged off the brotherly taunt. “Well, something about her has snagged my attention, that's for sure.”

“Like I've said before,” Joseph measured out, patting his chest. “You're a bleeding heart.”

Ben dropped his gaze to the floor. “I'm just worried about her, that's all. It's obvious she doesn't have anywhere to go from here. As much as this area has been built up with the railroad coming through and all, a young woman trying to find her way alone is as good as a death sentence. It's clear that she needs a leg up in life.”

“You're right to be concerned.” Katie threaded her arm through Joseph's.

“What do you mean?” Ben's pulse prickled through him at the way her features pinched with concern.

“I have a feeling that if you want her to stay safe, then you're going to have to find enough things to keep her busy right here. But most importantly, you need to treat her with great care.” Her voice grew suddenly soft and strained as Joseph wrapped her protectively in the crook of his arm. “Even though she tried to hide them,
the awful scars I glimpsed on her body are a horrid indication that her past is something she'd like to forget.”

 

The thought of Callie enduring a cruel beating, even once, touched every part of his mind and heart, stirring up anger so hot his blood still thrummed with furious force through his veins. Images of her being mistreated thundered through his mind, unearthing fierce rage and the innate need to protect her.

“Callie? Are you awake?” Ben spoke low as he gently knocked on the bedroom door and awaited her reply.

After several silent moments, alarm barged into his head, dominating all reasonable thought. He opened the door, peeking inside.

He hoped he hadn't seemed rude when just moments ago, he'd eagerly ushered Joseph and Katie out of his house. But from the second Katie had returned from helping Callie with her bath, he'd been chomping at the bit to get back over here to his patient.

Especially after Katie had mentioned the scars.

A few old scars. Some newer ones. The bold signs of chronic abuse that had been hidden beneath her tattered undergarments. He'd been fortunate enough to get her out of her wet and dirty dress after she'd arrived. But since then, every time he'd attempt to examine her, she'd flat-out refused, wrapping the covers so tightly around her, he thought she might cocoon herself in them permanently.

Completely missing the glorious opportunity to break free as a beautiful butterfly.

He gulped hard, sliding a trembling hand over his mouth. That thought had come out of nowhere. The delicate image of Callie emerging and spreading her wings to fly had his insides drawing up taut.

Every step from his house to his office, he'd kept telling himself that his was just a doctorly kind of concern, making sure she hadn't taxed herself too much or spiked another fever. But the way his heart thudded inside his chest as he quietly slipped into her room, he knew he was fool—

He stopped cold in his tracks when he glimpsed her nestled safe in a fluff of quilts and pillows. His throat constricted. His pulse skidded to a halt, staring at her as though he'd never seen her before. He was so taken by her innocent beauty that he couldn't seem to tear his gaze away, even if he tried.

He advanced one step closer, growing increasingly uncomfortable at the way his thoughts were so caught up with this patient and the intense need he felt to protect her.

And wholly compelled by the way her auburn hair fanned across her pillow like rich strands of fine satin, gleaming in the sunlight. The late-afternoon glow poured through the windows in warm, comforting streams, lighting on her face to reveal a freshly scrubbed, pink tint there. Revealing also a small, ragged scar at her hairline. He'd missed it before with her matted hair, but now in the soft glow, he could see it. And the sight fixed a tight cinch around his stomach.

He gritted his teeth. Fisted his hands as images of this delicate woman being mistreated whipped through his mind once again. Any man who'd do that to a woman wasn't worth his weight in gold, and must've been raised by the devil's minions. Had it been an employer? Her father?

An appalling suspicion brought him up short.

Surely not Max. Max may have come by lying and cheating and drinking and gambling easily enough, but
surely he couldn't have found it so easy to physically harm his own wife.

Or could he?

Ben seethed with fury that Callie had been treated with such abject disregard.

When she stirred slightly and gave a small, distressed moan, he stepped nearer, instantly troubled by the way her brows creased in a frown. The way her mouth turned down at the corners in a distinctive look of fear.

Hunkering down next to the bed, he gently braced a hand on her shoulder. Instead of easing her distress, she jerked hard. Gasped in fear as her eyes flew open. She scrambled to the other side of the bed. Heaved a pillow over her head as if she meant to defend herself.

“Callie?” he spoke low, noticing how the covers quivered with the force of her heartrending trepidation. “Callie, it's me. Ben.”

Her fingers blanched white with force. Her breath came now in short pants as she inched the pillow down. She slid a terror-filled gaze to him and blinked hard, once, then again as if bringing him into focus. He saw the light of awareness dawn in her eyes.

“What's wrong?” he asked as she swung her gaze aside, fastening it to the wall as though holding the structure in place. “Are you all right?”

“What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?” Heaving a big sigh, she shot up to her elbows and glared at him. “Do you always do that to your patients?”

“I didn't sneak up on you.” He kept his voice low and even. If she'd suffered abuse, then it would certainly account for her skittishness around him. He'd have to tread lightly when it came to touching her. “I came in to check on you. Just like I would any other patient. You've been sick, remember?”

The way she studied him out of the corner of her eyes as he raised his hand to her forehead to feel for a fever, one would think he had a gleaming scalpel poised, ready to make a deep incision. But the way she jutted her chin out in obstinate refusal to show weakness pierced his heart straight through.

“Well, next time knock, if you would, please.” She summoned her rose-colored lips into a headstrong pucker that brought to mind dainty rosebuds.

“I did knock.” He wrangled up his patience and his good sense, even as unsolicited images of those perfect lips touching against his drifted through his mind. He was pretty sure she hadn't meant to convey that, but darn if his thoughts didn't find their way there. “You must've been having a bad dream.”

“I was not,” she retorted.

He tried to hide his dismay at her stubbornness. “You feel cool to the touch. I'm glad for that.”

When he withdrew his hand, silky strands of hair whispered against his fingertips, kicking his pulse up a notch. He busied himself, pouring her a fresh glass of water as he forced himself to focus on her needs as a patient.

“I hope you didn't overdo it with the bath.” He offered her the glass, his errant gaze locking on her lips as she took several generous sips. “I probably should've waited to make that suggestion.”

“Don't worry about me. I'm just fine.” She fell back to the pillow. “In fact, I can't believe how much better I feel. I'll be up and working probably by tomor—” Her proclamation was interrupted by an unceremonious, lingering yawn.

“No, ma'am. Not tomorrow, you won't.” Ben shook his head, trying hard not to grin at her strength of will,
and the small glimpse of innocence he saw right then in her cute frown. “Not the next day either. I'll let you know when you're well enough to begin work.”

When she knit her brows together even tighter, he had the distinct feeling that he'd probably just stepped on her pride. He'd do it again, since he was a stickler for enforcing ample recovery time. And in her case, much needed rest.

“Thank you all the same, but I am fully capable of judging that for myself.” She crossed her arms at her chest. “And I feel
more
than ready to tackle the tasks that need to be done.”

“You are stubborn enough that you would, too.” He gently grasped her wrist to feel her pulse. “But I'm a doctor. And, honestly, I question whether you're in the habit of making sound decisions regarding your health.”

With a protesting huff, she jerked her hand back.

“And before you go thinking that I just insulted you, let me assure you that it wasn't meant as such,” he cut in, distracted by the way her soft skin remained imprinted on his. “Given the way you showed up here, I'd say mine is a fair assessment, don't you think? No one in their right mind would have braved that kind of weather in the condition you were in at the time.”

Crossing to the dresser, he eyed the locket lying atop her worn garment. “Nothing is worth that.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the space between them and since he'd given her his back, he could only guess what her reaction was. But the one thing he'd learned about Callie, thus far, was that even though she'd make gallant efforts to hide her emotions, the uncertainty that churned inside her pretty little head was evident on her face.