The Fairy Tales Collection (10 page)

“Ben?”

He realized he was actually reaching out
for her and he dropped his arms and gave her a guilty look.  “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.  Are you – are you all right?” 
She asked a bit timidly.

“Yes,” he said. 

“Well, I’ll just, um, get some paper towels
and clean this up,” she said awkwardly.

He blushed and shook his head.  “I’ll clean
it up.  C’mon, we’ll go to the kitchen and you can decide what you want for
lunch, okay?”

She bit at her lip before nodding.  “Sure,
but you don’t need to make me lunch.  I can just go out and grab something.”

“Wearing nothing but my shirt?”  He
buttoned his jeans and held out his hand, feeling relief when she took it
without hesitating, and led her toward the door of the library.

“Right, I kind of forgot about that.  Would
it be okay if I used your washer and dryer?”  She asked. 

He nodded and squeezed her hand.  “I didn’t
hurt you, did I?”

“Not this again,” she said before rolling
her eyes.  “No, it didn’t hurt, Bennett.”

“You winced,” he said.

“My God, does nothing get by you?”  She
said irritably.  “My thigh muscles are a little tight and a little sore
probably because I’m not used to this particular type of workout.  Stop
worrying, Bennett.  I’m not a fragile little flower.”

She gave him a peculiar, almost guilty
look, and he frowned.  “What?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly. 

They were at the kitchen now and he grabbed
some paper towels and the bottle of Lysol.  She giggled and said, “Kills ninety-nine
percent of sperm germs.”

He gave her a mock scowl before leaning
down and kissing her lightly on the mouth.  “I’ll be right back.”

* * *

“Thank you for lunch, Bennett.  It was
delicious,” Belle said.

“You’re welcome,” he replied as he cleared
away the dishes.

She stood and pulled at the hem of his
shirt.  “Well, I guess I’ll just put my clothes in the wash and then get back
to work.”

“We need to talk, Belle,” he said.

She shook her head. “No, we don’t.”

“We do,” he insisted. 

“No, we don’t,” she repeated.  “Bennett, we
were both very clear last night about what this was.  We don’t need to rehash
it, okay?  I’m a big girl and I’m perfectly fine.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You don’t need to be.  I’m not sorry at
all.  What happened last night and – and this morning was wonderful and amazing
and I’ll never forget that.  Thank you for being so sweet and gentle and just,
well… you. ” She gave him a sweet smile that made his chest tighten.

“Thank you,” he said.  “I – it was amazing
for me too.”

For a moment her smile faltered and he thought
he saw tears in her eyes before she cleared her throat roughly.  “You’re
welcome, Bennett Saxby.”

He laughed and she grinned at him.  “Are
you home for the rest of the day?”

He nodded and she headed toward the door of
the kitchen.  “Okay, I’ll check in with you before I leave.” 

She left the kitchen and he finished
loading the dishwasher before staring blankly out the window at the backyard. 
Belle seemed fine with not having a relationship, with sticking to their
agreement that it be a one-night only thing between them, and that was a good
thing.  So why was he feeling such a crushing surge of disappointment?

Belle unlocked the door of the trailer and
stepped inside.  Her nose wrinkled at the smell of stale beer and she crossed
to the kitchen and pushed open the window.

“Dad?  Dad are you home?”

There was no reply and she set her purse on
the table, wondering briefly if she should call Gaston’s and see if he was
there.  It was only five-thirty but he would have slept off the worst of his hangover
by now and gone looking for a faster cure.  She sighed and headed down the
narrow hallway toward the bathroom, barely noticing the peeling wallpaper or
the water stains on the ceiling.  The door was partially open and she frowned
when she pushed on it and met resistance.

She stuck her head through the narrow
opening and her eyes widened with horror.  “Dad!”

Her father was lying on the floor of the
bathroom with his legs blocking the door.  She pushed frantically against it
until the opening widened and she could squeeze her body through.  She fell to
her knees beside him, panic yammering at her brain, and shook him roughly.

“Dad!  Wake up!  Dad, look at me!”

He didn’t move.  His face was pale and the
heavy bags under his eyes were a dark mottled purple. 

“Daddy?”  She whispered.  Her fingers
trembling, she pressed them against his neck and started to cry when she felt
the faint beat of his pulse.  She stumbled out of the bathroom and hurried back
to the kitchen, grabbing her purse from the table and yanking out her cell
phone.  She called 9-1-1 as adrenaline pulsed through her veins.

* * *

Bennett stumbled down the stairs as the
doorbell rang again.  It was half-past seven in the morning and he scrubbed his
jaw irritably. 

“I’m coming!”  He bellowed.  “Hold your
fucking horses!”

He had slept terribly last night, reliving
in his dreams the day Belle had been attacked by the cougar.  The cougar attack
had been interspersed with images of her in the library, her eyes laughing up
at him as he held her close and whispered that he loved her.

The doorbell rang for a third time and he
snarled loudly before reaching for the door handle.  Whoever was on the other
side was about to be very sorry.

“Bennett?”

He stared blankly at the woman standing
nervously on his front porch.  “Ella?  What are you doing here?”

Terror suddenly gripped him and he squeezed
the door frame so hard that the wood cracked.  Ella took a step back as he
stared wide-eyed at her.  “Is Belle okay?”

“She’s fine,” Ella said hurriedly.  “Well, physically
she’s fine.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Her dad.  Her dad had a heart attack
yesterday morning and he’s in the hospital.”

“Shit,” he said.

She nodded and rubbed at the logo on the
front of her shirt.  It said “Cinders Cleaning” in bright yellow lettering and
she traced the letters absentmindedly. 

“When Belle got home last night she found
him unconscious on the floor.  The doctor said if she had been even an hour
later, he would have died.”

She gave him an anxious look.  “Belle
called me and I spent the night at the hospital with her but I needed to go to
work.  My stepmother, she,” a fleeting look of anger crossed her face, “she
wouldn’t give me the day off and threatened to fire me if I missed work. 
Belle’s all alone at the hospital, Bennett.  I couldn’t get a hold of Rowan but
she worked last night and is probably sleeping.  Belle shouldn’t be alone right
now.”

She glanced at his naked chest.  “I’m
sorry, I know it’s really early but I didn’t have your cell number and Belle
wouldn’t give it to me.  She said that – that I shouldn’t bother you and that
she would call you later and explain why she was missing work.  But she needs
you, Bennett, I know she does.”

“I’ll go over there right now,” he said.

“He’s in room 115.”  She gave him a look of
relief.  “Thank you, Bennett.”

She started down the porch steps, looking
over her shoulder when he called her name.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” she replied quietly.

* * *

Belle rubbed at her forehead as she leaned
back in the chair.  Her head was throbbing, she was nauseous and her eyes were
swollen from crying.  She stared at her father sleeping soundly in the hospital
bed.  They had moved him from the ICU at two thirty this morning, after he had
woken and, surprisingly, asked for something to eat.  The heart attack had been
a mild one but if she hadn’t gotten home when she did…

Her entire body shuddered and she began to
cry again.  She was crying for her father and, selfishly, for herself.  Despite
what she had told Bennett, she had been hoping that a relationship would
develop between them.  Her father nearly dying had proven to her that it was
impossible.  He couldn’t take care of himself and she should never have left
him alone last night.  He had almost died because of her.

Once he was settled in his room, she had
apologized repeatedly while crying softly and steadily.  Her father had cried
as well and had tried to reassure her that it wasn’t her fault.  He believed
that, she knew without a doubt that he did, and he had made a promise to her
that he would never drink again but she knew it was a lie.  How many times had
he made that promise?  A hundred?  A thousand?  He had been an alcoholic for
nearly twenty years and although this had scared him badly, the need for
alcohol was too strong.  The doctor had given him brochures about different
rehab facilities during his early morning rounds and her father had looked
through them but she could already see his need for a drink on his face.

She tried to stop crying as her head
throbbed and pulsed.  Her father needed her help and her wish for a life with Bennett
was pointless.  She couldn’t leave her father and even if Bennett changed his
mind and wanted a relationship, her constant care and worry for her father
would eventually drive a wedge between them.  She couldn’t fully invest in a
relationship with someone when she couldn’t leave her father’s side.

“Mirabelle?”

His low voice snapped her head up and she
stared in disbelief as Bennett walked into the room.

“Wh-what are you doing here?”  She whispered.

“Ella dropped by the house on her way to
work,” he said.

“She shouldn’t have done that.”

“Yes, she should have,” he said.  He
crouched in front of her and placed his hands on her knees.  “How are you
holding up, honey?”

Her face crumpled and he pulled her into
his embrace.  She clung to him, sobbing softly into his throat as he rubbed her
back and made soft soothing noises.  After nearly five minutes, she pushed away
and snatched a tissue from the box sitting on the tray next to her father’s
bed.  She wiped her face and blew her nose before giving him a watery smile.

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he
said.  “How’s your dad doing?”

“Better,” she said as she glanced at the
sleeping man.  “All things considered, he’s pretty lucky.”

“You should have called me, honey.”

“Why?”  She asked, her lips trembling. 
“What good would that have done?”

He winced and brushed back a strand of her
dark hair that was caught on her mouth.  “Because I care about you, Mirabelle.”

“Do you?”  She whispered.

“Yes.  Honey, I – I was wrong about what I
said earlier.  I want a relationship with you.  I realize this isn’t the best
timing but knowing that you were here at the hospital, worried and afraid, and
didn’t think you could call me – it made me realize what a fool I’ve been.  I
want to be with you, Mirabelle.”

She burst into sobs and he gave her a
frantic look.  “Honey, don’t cry, please.”

“It’s too late,” she sobbed.

“Don’t say that,” he said as panic gripped
him.  “It isn’t too late.”

“It is,” she cried.  “Don’t you understand,
Bennett?  My father, he – he almost died because I wasn’t there.  I had a
moment of selfishness and it nearly killed him.  I can’t – I can’t be with
you.  I have to take care of my father.  I’m all he has.”

“I’ll help you take care of him,” he said.

She shook her head and barked bitter
laughter.  “No, that isn’t fair to you.”

“I don’t care,” he said.  “I’ll do whatever
it takes to be with you, Mirabelle.  I mean that.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” she said. 
“Eventually his disease will just take over our lives and then you’ll resent me
for it.  I don’t want that.”

“It won’t happen that way,” he said.  He
cupped her face and pressed a kiss against her mouth.  “Let me be there for
you.”

“No.  You deserve better than me.”

“Mirabelle,” he said in frustration, “I’m a
grown man, I can make that decision for myself.”

“You’re blinded by your lust right now,”
she said softly.  “Eventually that will fade and you’ll see that I’m right.”

“It’s not just lust,” he said.  “It’s more
than that, it’s lo – “

“No!”  She stood and gave him an angry
look.  “Don’t you dare say that, Bennett. Not now.  Not after I’ve just told
you we can’t be together.”

She bent and pressed a kiss against her
father’s forehead.  “I’ll be back later, daddy,” she murmured into his ear.

“Mirabelle, wait,” Bennett said.

“I’m sorry.  I’m very tired and I have a
throbbing headache and I need to go home and have a hot shower and a nap. 
Please, stay away from me, Bennett.  Don’t make this harder than it already
is.”

She started to cry again and he stared
helplessly as she ran from the room.  He collapsed in the chair and stared
numbly at his hands.  He had lost her.  He had lost her because he had waited
too long to tell her how he really felt.

“Well, I really fucked up this time, didn’t
I, son?”

The gravel-rough voice made his head snap
up and he stared at Belle’s father as the man pushed a button and the head of
his bed rose with a soft hum.

“You’re awake,” Bennett said.

“Yes.  Heard everything that just
happened.”

The old man sighed and rubbed briefly at
his chest before staring at the IV in his arm.  “I’ve destroyed my girl’s
life.  There was a time when she was the most important thing in my world and
now I’ve hurt her so much she’ll never forgive me.”

“Yes, she will,” Bennett said.  He could
feel anger seeping in.  “Don’t go feeling sorry for yourself, Maurice.  You
have Mirabelle doing exactly what you want her to do.”

Maurice glared at him.  “You think this is
what I want for my child?  You think I don’t want her to be happy, to find love
and raise a family?”

“You can’t seem to see past a bottle,” Bennett
said bitterly.  “You don’t care about Mirabelle.  All you care about is when
you’ll get your next drink.”

Maurice’s face fell and he gave Bennett a
look of shame.  “You’re right.”

Bennett stood but before he could leave,
Maurice said, “Why didn’t you want a relationship with Belle until now?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said.  “Goodbye,
Maurice.”

He stalked toward the door, his body
stiffening when Maurice said, “Is it because you’re a bear shifter?”

He turned his head, the tendons in his neck
creaking, and stared at Belle’s father.  “What did you say?”

“Sit down.  Just for a minute, would you?” 
Maurice asked.

Bennett closed the door before returning to
the chair.  “Why do you think I’m a bear shifter?”

“Because my girl said you were and she’s
not a liar,” Maurice replied.

“There is no such thing as a shifter,” Bennett
said.

“No?”  Maurice cocked his eyebrow at him. 
“Well, that seems mighty strange to me considering I was married to one.”

Bennett’s mouth dropped open and a small
smile crossed Maurice’s face.

“You – Mirabelle’s mother was a shifter?”

Maurice nodded.  “A tiger shifter.”

“But Mirabelle, she’s human …”

He trailed off and Maurice nodded.  “Yes,
she got my genes, not her mother’s.”

“She doesn’t know,” Bennett said softly.

“No.  Her mother and I decided we were
going to wait to tell her when she was older - when it was easier for her to
understand - but then her mother died.”

“You should have told her anyway,” Bennett
said.  “Why didn’t you?”

“I meant to,” Maurice said.  “But then that
business with you started up and I saw the way the townfolk looked at my girl.”

“They thought she was crazy,” Bennett
said.  “You could have told her she wasn’t, could have helped her understand
that – “

“Don’t you think I know that?”  Maurice
suddenly snapped.  “I should have told her, hell there are a lot of things I
should have done when it came to her but I started drinking and after that,
nothing else seemed to matter.”