Benjamin (10 page)

“I’ll dry it out tonight as best I can. Thank you for saving me. I’m not a good swimmer.” Her voice was rusty from the water and the vomiting.

“We made it across. That’s the important thing.” He stood. “Take your time catching your breath.”

He didn’t make her feel foolish or as though her near drowning had caused them a delay. Ben spent time checking on the horses and talking to them as he got as much water out of their gear as he could.

Grace watched with admiration. He was a good man, a good person. She’d not met many who had a core of steel and a strong heart. Alfred had a soft heart and a beautiful soul, but he didn’t have Ben’s strength.

She could love this man. That scared her more than the river she’d just crossed.

*

After drying off
for a few hours, they continued on their journey. Ben was shaken, more than he would admit. Seeing Grace floundering in the water had sent a surge of emotion so intense it turned him inside out. He jumped into the river, heedless of anything but getting to her.

Although he’d acted casual, Ben was shaken by the experience. He barely knew her yet they’d shared some of the deepest, darkest parts of themselves with each other. There was something between them he couldn’t deny and it grew stronger every day.

By the next morning, Grace had found her pluck and recovered from the river crossing. The weapons had been cleaned and dried, then reloaded. The horses acted as though nothing had happened.

Grace, on the other hand, kept staring at Ben. Her expression ranged from contemplative to something inscrutable that made him antsy. The river crossing had changed her but he didn’t know exactly how. And he wasn’t about to ask since he still was unsure of his own reaction.

The late afternoon air grew thick and heavy. Perspiration collected on his back, dancing down his spine like a multi-footed creature. His hat grew hot as fire as the humidity inched higher and higher. If he’d worn spectacles, they’d be fogged up for sure.

The sky was a bruised mixture of black and purple while the swollen clouds rolled past, running from whatever chased them. The distant rumble of thunder confirmed what he already knew.

Grace apparently didn’t need to be told. She was already heading for cover beneath a few scraggly trees. There wasn’t much, but it was something. In moments they would be soaked to the skin again and something was better than nothing.

The wind whipped past him, unseating his hat. He made a mid-air grab, but missed. It tumbled toward Grace, end over end. If he lost his damn hat, he’d be one sorry son of a bitch in the rain and worse, in the sun. He kneed Paladin into a faster gallop, but he needn’t have worried.

Grace pulled Swift to the right. She twisted to hook her knee around the pommel, then reached down, the other leg outstretched and snatched the hat in mid-air. With a graceful yank, she pulled herself back into the saddle, then continued on toward the meager tree cover.

He was astonished. Even his sister, Catherine, who was exceptionally gifted on the back of a horse, couldn’t have performed that maneuver. Grace was damn amazing.

Ben pulled Paladin to a stop and slid of his horse. Grace was already there securing the reins to a branch. She thrust his hat at him and he nodded while he should have thanked her. He didn’t know how and he was still flabbergasted by her acrobatics on the horse. In female clothes no less.

The horses neighed and stomped the ground as the air grew heavier. The scent of the coming storm was acrid and overpowering. Ben patted Paladin’s neck and the great beast shuddered beneath his touch. The horses had instincts humans didn’t.

The storm was going to be bad.

Ben reached for his bedroll. “We need to create a shelter as best we can.”

Grace didn’t ask questions, she simply did what he did. It was a welcome change from his sisters and Eva who wouldn’t do anything he told them without a thorough, and contested, explanation. Then again, he was already enamored with his tall, enigmatic traveling companion, which he didn’t understand how to manage. Knowing she was good in a crisis was just that much more for him to fall in love with.

God forbid
that
happened.

Yet God let a lot of things happen to him without intervening. Awful, nightmarish things that had turned him into the hard shell of a man he was. At that point, Ben didn’t trust a damn thing God might have done or not done.

He glanced at the western sky. The clouds rolled like enormous fists coming toward them fast. Sheets of rain fell in the distance, thick enough he couldn’t see beyond them.

“We need to protect the horses and us.” Ben got Paladin down while Grace did the same with Swift.

He positioned the two humans between the equines, then took both bedrolls and put both on top. The horses seemed to understand the danger looming and aside from a few nickers, kept still as Ben secured the blanket around them as best he could. Grace took one side to hold it down while he took the other.

The sound of the rain arrived least than a minute later. The steady cacophony coming toward them grew louder with each passing moment. Any remaining daylight faded until he couldn’t see more than a few inches, which meant he saw Grace’s eyes. She looked back at him, the air between them shimmering with the same electricity that crackled in the air.

The rain hit hard, soaking the blankets within minutes. The wind tried to snatch the corner of the fabric from their hands. He held on until his fingers cramped and he had no doubt Grace did the same.

Then the hail began. It was small at first, a few pellets bouncing off the trees behind them. Those small orbs turned into marble sized and then finally what had to be walnuts slamming down as though the heavens were punishing them.

Ben might have deserved it, but Grace didn’t, and neither did the horses. They whinnied and tried to move closer but there was no hiding their great bodies completely.

It seemed the heavens had opened on them and they were drowning in the fury. Ben closed his eyes and hoped like hell at least the horses and the woman beside him would survive. He would do all he could to keep them alive, no matter what. It surprised him how easily he accepted that silent vow. Family had always been his true north but now it appeared he had someone else to anchor him.

One large piece of hail slammed into his head and stars exploded behind his eyes. He couldn’t stop the grunt of pain nor the sway as the world tilted. Grace wrapped her arm around his shoulder and steadied him.

“Easy, big fella. I can’t lose you now.”

What did she mean by that? His head swam with confusion and pain as the hail continued to rain down on his back and head. He wanted to be someone she didn’t want to lose and not because of his knowledge of the compound, but because of
him
. The lost boy who became a ghost of a man.

She started to hum, whether to calm him or the horses he didn’t know, but the sweet melody was the same as what she’d sung earlier. This time he didn’t break down; he leaned into her and took what she offered. Comfort, solace, companionship. Perhaps salvation.

In the midst of a vicious storm, Ben huddled beneath a wet blanket and found his heart had begun beating again.

*

The horses had
a few marks from the hailstones that needed tending. Grace had salve and happily spent a few minutes focusing on their wounds rather than on what had happened during the storm.

Ben had accepted her touch, and even leaned into her. Something had changed at the river between them, and again while the hail rained on them, but she didn’t know what. He’d been silent, but not his usual surly self. She wanted to ask and, at the same time, didn’t think she wanted the answer.

The skies cleared as the clouds chased themselves across the horizon, bringing the violent storm to other unsuspecting creatures. The air was crisp and clean and the sunshine sparkled on the raindrops caught in the branches and grass around them. It would have been idyllic except for the fact Grace, Ben, and the horses were all bruised and soaked from the storm.

“I want to look at that head wound.” She wiped her hands on a rag and spoke to Ben, who had been checking Paladin while she finished with Swift.

“It’s fine.” He ran his hands down the horse’s withers, murmuring softly as he touched the gelding. Her gaze followed his hands and a shiver ran up her spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. He had lovely, large hands, full of calluses and life. She’d like to know what they felt like on her skin.

Goose bumps marched across her body and she folded her arms lest he see the hardened nipples. “Since you have no way of seeing what kind of damage was done to your hard head, you can’t say it’s fine. I’ll bet you have a hell of a headache. Your wound might need salve as well, so might as well sit down and let me get to it, then we can be on our way.”

“You’re stubborn.”

“Pfft. Hello, pot. I’m the kettle.” She gestured to a rock nearby. “Sit and let me see to the wound.”

He scowled. “We don’t have time for it.”

“But you had time to tend to the horses.” She raised one brow. “I’m wearing a skirt because
you
thought it best. Now
I
think this is best, so sit down.”

Her logic wasn’t faultless, but it was convincing, because he sat down. She poured water from a canteen onto a clean rag and cleaned the wound with care. There was little blood, but a goose egg had formed. She pressed the cool cloth for a few moments.

“Good news. You’re still alive and your head is as hard as the rock you’re sitting on.” She knew he was in pain and likely had a hell of a headache. He didn’t make a sound or twitch the entire time she’d been tending to him. The man had been through enough; this wound was probably a grain of sand compared to what he’d endured.

He got to his feet, close to her. Too close. He was taller than her, a novelty for Grace, and she found herself lost in the blue-green of his eyes. She reached up to cup his whiskered cheek. He leaned into her touch and the moment shifted to one of arousal.

They’d survived a vicious storm and hail that might have killed them if any had hit hard enough. They were alive. A brush with danger had once again kicked off arousal within her.

Grace leaned forward and kissed him. This time there was no confusion as to who was kissing whom and the hazy sunlight didn’t hide his face in the shadows. This was Benjamin Graham and she very much wanted to kiss him.

After a few small kisses, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed his hardness against her. She coaxed his lips open with her tongue. His moves were clumsy and hesitant. It was obvious he hadn’t much experience kissing. The very idea she was the one to teach him about pleasure made her heart skip a beat.

She’d learned from her husband when she had been inexperienced and scared. Now she was the teacher. It was a heady thought.

His heart thundered against hers in a staccato rhythm. Their lips slid together again and again until she grew dizzy from lack of air. She broke the kiss and sucked in a ragged breath while he did the same.

Her mouth felt hot and swollen, pulsing and raw. She blinked as he stared at her, his own lips red and moist from her kisses. Grace couldn’t remember thinking about kissing with her husband as much as she’d done in the last five minutes with Benjamin Graham.

“I, uh, we should get going.” He didn’t move, and neither did she. The only sounds were the birds chirping somewhere nearby. The two humans were frozen in place, trapped by circumstance.

“Do you regret what we just did?” came out of her mouth. She wanted to know but, damn, she didn’t want to know. Ben distracted her and at the same time, made her feel female again. It was a conundrum, a distraction from her purpose.

Ben took a few moments before answering. “No.”

Nothing more, just that. He still wasn’t a talkative man, that was for sure.

“Neither do I.” She didn’t want to raise her hand lest he see it trembling. “I enjoyed it.”

He licked his lips and she felt the ghost of his tongue slide against hers. She swallowed, tasting him, wishing she could hold onto the memory to sustain her. It was one bright moment in a year of darkness.