Slow Ride Home (The Grady Legacy) (23 page)

“What about me?” Allie asked. “I can help.”

He shook his head. “There’s no use you coming across with me and getting wet. Rusher’s taller than Buttercup, so he’ll cross it easier. You’ll end up swimming if you try.”

Muttering all the things he wanted to do to Cody when he sobered up, he pulled his feet and the stirrups up Rusher’s flanks. “Damned stupid kid. All right Rusher, let’s go.” He urged the gelding into the water at the lowest part in the river. Even then, Rusher couldn’t touch bottom once they’d made it a third of the way across. At least it was summer and the water levels were lower than they would have been in spring.

Both Ben and his horse heaved a sigh of relief when Rusher touched bottom on the other side.

Though Ben could smell the booze and weed from the teen three paces away, Cody was conscious.

“Are you hurt? Got a broken leg? Twisted ankle?”

The teen belched and a wide, shit-eating grin split his face. “Hey, Ben. How you doin’, man?”

Oh yeah, the kid was wasted. Ben folded his arms across his chest trying to figure out how to get him back across the river without the kid falling off and dragging him down with him. “I’m doing better than you. Though the quad’s not in such good shape.”

Confusion filled Cody’s face for a moment. “The quad? Oh, yeah.” He snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I was just having some fun. Got some pretty good air time. You should have seen me earlier.”

“Like when you drove it in the river?”

“I figured if I got up enough speed it would hydra—hydro—whatever you call it across the water.”

“Hydroplane,” Ben muttered.

“Yeah, that! Anyway, it shoulda worked. I’ve seen guys do it on Youtube.” Another belch echoed off the hills. “I made it almost halfway, and then it just...sank. Right there in the middle. Glug glug glug.” Cody’s eyes fluttered closed, and his head dropped to his chest.

“Cody?”

No answer.

“Hey, Cody,” he sharpened his voice.

Wonderful. The kid had passed out.

There were some days he wished he were a simple ranch hand instead of the boss. “If wishes were horses...”

* * *

A drop of rain managed to bypass Allie’s hat and hit her in the face. Followed by another landing on her arm. Shoot, when had the clouds rolled in?

Across the river, Ben glanced up at the sky and scowled. He knelt beside Cody, and looking like it took little effort considering Cody was Ben’s size, lifted him over his shoulder. The teen’s arms hung limply down Ben’s back.

Staggering for a step, Ben whistled to Rusher. Where they’d been bragging about Dale’s training, Rusher behaved like a true trooper. The horse walked over and stood quietly in front of Ben. Though the gelding’s body blocked Allie from seeing much of Ben, half of Cody’s body flopped across Rusher’s withers just above the saddle. Facedown.

“Jake? Gabe?” she called. “I think Ben needs help.”

“Oh, that’s gonna be hellacious bad,” Gabe muttered as the two men watched Ben struggle to keep Cody from sliding off the horse. “Belly down with a gut full of booze? That kid’s gonna hurt for a week.”

“Serves him right. Maybe he’ll learn a lesson out of it,” Jake snapped.

“I got him.” Gabe urged his horse into the water.

Allie strode along the riverbank, as the two men wrestled Cody onto the horse. She breathed a sigh of relief when Ben pulled himself into the saddle. With Gabe’s help, Ben hauled Cody over the pommel and horn until the teen rested on Ben’s thighs.

Though she knew Ben was strong, his muscles bunched and his face showed the strain as he struggled to keep his balance. The moment the water hit Cody’s thighs, he awoke, gagging and fighting Ben’s hold.

“Fuck,” Ben’s strangled curse echoed across the water.

Time slowed as Ben fought to stay upright, but Cody’s thrashing tipped him sideways. Allie pressed her fingers to her mouth when the two of them disappeared into the water, sending a geyser of water into the air.

“Ben!” Allie shouted, sprinting into the water to her thighs as Gabe jumped off his horse and dove beneath the surface. Water splashed her—Jake dove into the water and swam toward where his brother had gone in.

Ben’s hat popped to the surface a half dozen feet down river.

No! No no no no no! She held her breath, counting how long he’d been underwater. “Ben,” her voice dropped to a broken whisper, the ache in her chest at the thought she might lose him unbearable.

Gabe reappeared, water streaming into his eyes. Both he and Jake took a deep breath and dove once more.

Allie’s lungs burned by the time Ben reappeared a few feet away from his hat, coughing and spluttering, hauling Cody behind him.

First Gabe, then Jake popped to the surface moments later. Jake let out a curse filled with relief at seeing his brother alive while Gabe swam to his horse and grabbed the reins. Instead of trying to remount, he handed the reins to Ben and once Ben hooked an arm around the saddle horn, urged the horse to shore.

The moment he could touch bottom, Jake put a shoulder beneath Cody and muscled him onto the shore while Allie helped Ben out of the water.

“Are you all right?” Allie wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. She’d been standing right there, maybe thirty feet away, and she’d nearly lost him. Gulping in huge shuddering breaths, she buried her face in Ben’s chest.

“I’m fine. Just soaking wet and pissed off.” But he leaned into her embrace.

Once she could breathe normally, she stepped back, and smacked his arm.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again.” Her tears mixed with the now-pouring rain so she was as soaked as Ben but at least he couldn’t tell she was crying. The last thing he needed was a blubbering wimp.

“Hey! It wasn’t my idea.” He tilted her chin until he could see her face. “You worried about me?”

Though there was a teasing tone to his voice, his expression was serious.

She swatted his arm again. “Of course I did.”

“Good.” Looking far too satisfied for her liking, he sat on a log and wrestled off his boots. “Damn it, they’re ruined. And they were my favorite pair.”

“They’re just boots.” She swiped a finger through the blood pouring down the side of his neck. “You’re bleeding.”

He rubbed a hand over the cut behind his ear. “Hit a rock on the way down. It doesn’t hurt. How’s it look? Will I need stitches?”

Gabe leaned over. “It’s nasty, but it’ll probably be okay.”

“You hit your head,” Allie enunciated each word carefully. She cupped his jaw and stared in his eyes to check his pupils. They looked evenly dilated. “Do you have a headache?”

“No more than I had before I got dunked.”

“Did you manage to get the quad started?” With a groan, he stood and walked over to the quad bike.

“How could you worry about that stupid machine?” Allie demanded, trailing him. “You’re bleeding all over the place.”

He lifted a brow in his brother’s direction, though whether it was for confirmation or a plea for help, she wasn’t sure.

After handing Cody over to Gabe, Jake trotted over and took a look at the wound. “Wouldn’t even warrant you a butterfly bandage.” He glanced at Allie. “Head wounds bleed a lot, but most of this is being diluted by the rain. He’ll be all right. Especially if you hang around to nurse him.”

Allie met Jake’s gaze, recognizing his words as the challenge they were. The fear that had gripped moments before lingered. Somewhere, at some point, she’d let Ben into her heart again. Cared for him, despite her assertions that she’d keep the relationship light.

Chapter Sixteen

While the initial deluge had eased somewhat, the rain hit Allie in large splashes, which was better than the driving rain a few minutes ago that had stung her skin like thousands of bees were attacking. The steady stream pouring down her back from the brim of Ben’s hat had eased to a steady trickle, not that it made her any less wet.

She shouldn’t complain—she was upright in the saddle, unlike Cody, who clung to Buttercup’s neck like a spider, rain trickling off his chin, his hair plastered to his face. After he’d fallen off the second time, Jake had threatened to lay him facedown over the ATV’s rack and hogtie him in place. They all knew it was an empty threat—at least, she thought it was.

Ben swung Allie from Rusher’s back, with a caution to mind the puddle to her right. Not that his caution mattered, considering she had her own personal footbath in her boots, thanks to the rain. She hurried to grab Buttercup’s reins from Cody, who was tilting to the opposite side of the saddle. The teen lost his balance and landed in an ungainly sprawl, splashing mud over Rusher’s and Buttercup’s legs and halfway up Allie’s thighs.

Gabe jumped off Paint and tossed Jake the reins then bent to help Cody to his feet.

A look of disgust on his face, Ben shook his head when Cody rolled onto his hands and knees and dry-heaved. “Gabe, can you help Jake with the kid while I get the horses settled?”

After he collected Paint’s reins, he led both animals toward the three-sided shelter.

Allie followed him, Buttercup happily plodding behind her. None of the horses seemed to be spooked by the rain on the wooden roof, so she tied the reins to a post. The two of them worked quickly to remove the tack from the horses. The routine of removing the tack and hauling it to the storage room was comforting after the earlier drama.

“Hey you, give me that back.”

She glanced over to find Ben wrestling with Buttercup, who was happily chewing his hat.

Once he’d finally reclaimed it from the mare, he clamped it back on his head. “That’s mine, you old nag.” Despite his initial admonishment, he scratched under her chin. “You just didn’t like being a beast of burden to that drunken fool, did you, pretty girl?”

“And here I thought I was the only one you sweet-talked,” Allie teased.

Ben turned hot eyes on her. “Oh, I plan on doin’ more than sweet-talking you when we get inside.”

The sound of someone clearing his throat broke Ben’s gaze. “Hey, Jake. You get the kid squared away?”

“Yeah, he’s laying down in the bedroom closest to the bathroom. I put a bucket by his head in case he can’t make it to the can in time. The power’s out—Gabe’s starting the generator so we should have some power for a while. Oh,” he snapped his fingers, “and I radioed Butch to tell him Cody was safe and that we’d be staying here overnight.”

Jake set to work removing the tack from Gabe’s Paint.

While they rubbed down the horses, Allie scooped oats into buckets and set them on the wall, then filled hay bags and hung them on the hooks. Her chores done, she leaned against the clapboard wall, letting the scent of horse, hay and men fill her head.

Jake had finished rubbing down Paint when Gabe showed up and took over. Once the horses were squared away, they turned their attention to the rain, which drummed against the tin roof.

Allie plucked at the top that clung to her like a second skin. “Do we wait here for a while to see if it lessens or make a dash for it?”

Ben eyed her, though she couldn’t decide if it was lust or humor lighting his expression. “Might as well run for it. We’re already as wet as we’re gonna get.”

Before she could say anything, he picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder and raced to the house.

“You’re insane!” She laughed as he set her down inside. “What if you’d slipped and fallen? We’d have both gone down.”

“I wouldn’t have dropped you.” Laughter filled his expression seconds before it slid away, replaced with tenderness and concern. “You need to get out of those wet things. We keep a stash of spare clothes upstairs.”

“I want to look at that gash first.”

He touched the wound with his hand and held up his fingers. “It’s fine. See? No blood.”

“It still needs to be cleaned.”

“You can play nurse to me upstairs.”

He took her hand and tugged her through the kitchen. They ran up a narrow back staircase and into the smallest suite that she’d always thought of as theirs and theirs alone. The room with its sunshine yellow walls was even smaller than she remembered, with just enough room to walk around to the other side of the bed, which was nestled between the dormer windows overlooking the river. At the far end of the room the half-closed panel door guarded a tiny bathroom.

She pressed the heel of her hand to her chest against the memories swamping her. How she’d been nervous that first time they’d snuck in, afraid of being caught using the lodge without permission, while at the same time exhilarated at the forbidden use to have sex in a real bed again after they’d almost got caught at her place. How they’d grown more confident, more curious as they discovered each other.

Ben paused by the window. “I never thought to ask—is this room okay with you? We could use one of the other suites if you want. Pop had some jet tubs installed in most of ‘em.” He glanced around, a soft expression filling his eyes. “I just always think of this room as our place.”

Everything inside went squishy that he’d thought about it the same way she had. Damn it, she wasn’t supposed feel this attraction to him. No. Attraction wasn’t the right word. She was falling in love with him all over again, damn it. “Come on, let’s get your head taken care of.”

“You need to get into some dry clothes first. I don’t want you getting sick.” He tugged open a drawer and tossed her a well-worn but clean T-shirt and a pair of grey sweat pants, then selected a pair of shorts for himself. She changed quickly, and found a variety of antiseptics in a cupboard in the bathroom. Once she was satisfied Ben’s injury wasn’t as bad as she’d thought and had cleaned it properly, she carried the ointments back to the bathroom.

As she closed the mirrored door of the medicine cabinet, she stared at her reflection.

“What am I going to do?” she whispered to the bedraggled image staring back at her. “He needs a ranch wife.”

Something she would have happily been if she’d gotten married right of high school, but now she had a career she loved. Or would love again once she found the right law firm. Was there a way she could do both? If she moved in with Ben, would she end up giving up her dreams to be what Ben needed and end up resenting him? If she didn’t, would Ben resent her dedication to her career over Bull’s Hollow?

Her reflection had no answers either.

When she finally returned, Ben had opened one of the windows. Fresh air swept through the room, banishing the stale summer heat with the scent of rain and the light spicy fragrance of the crepe myrtles blooming just below. Somewhere beyond a cicada buzzed its annoyingly high pitched call and thunder rumbled in the distance. If she’d been alone, she’d have gladly sat watching the lightning dancing across the far hills, the clouds tumbling along the tops, taking the storm to the south, away from them.

Ben wasn’t watching the storm. He leaned against the wall, his gaze locked on her. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am.” She trailed her finger along the cotton bedspread, carefully keeping her gaze averted and the bed between them. “I wasn’t the one who took a dunk in the creek or hit my head.”

“Did I do something to tick you off?”

He’d slung the towel she’d used while she was cleaning his gash around his neck. The traces of blood dark against the clean white terry gave her focus.

“No.” Other than scared the life out of her. “Yes. You could have been knocked out while you were under water. You could have drowned.”

“Maybe,” he allowed slowly. “If Jake and Gabe hadn’t been there, you would have come in after me.” He rounded the bed to cup his hand beneath her chin and raised it. In the dusky light, the blue of his eyes seemed brighter than usual, the crinkles at the edges deeper. “I’m still here. Safe and sound. And I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

He wouldn’t let her look away, capturing her gaze as if he could see into her soul, see the panic rising in her. “What’s going on, Allie? What aren’t you saying?”

She ducked out of his touch, and beneath his arm. “Nothing. Nothing’s going on. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Giving him her back, she braced herself against the windowsill and filled her lungs until they burned.

Her emotions swirled like the clouds over the distant hills. Fear that she’d lose him, fear that she’d lose herself, anger that he’d put himself in danger, anger that she’d let herself fall completely in love with him again. Not just with the way his body had curved around hers, or the way he knew just how to touch her. He cared about people. About his employees, and his animals. He worried about his grandma and how she was faring, about his mother coping with his father’s death. He’d taken all of their burdens on his own, and if she let him, he’d carry hers too.

After being unceremoniously tossed from Bull’s Hollow, and being rejected by her father, she’d craved affection. Yearned to be special to someone again. Which explained why she’d fallen into Lewis’s arms far too quickly. He’d paid attention to her, given her little compliments that made her feel visible, valuable; he’d manipulated himself into her life and taken over before she’d realized it. When she’d realized she’d lost herself, changed herself, and tried to become the person she’d once been, he’d pulled away.

While Ben wasn’t the secretive type, and because he wouldn’t manipulate her or try to change who she was, it was no wonder she’d lost her heart to him so easily.

“You know what I think?” Ben interrupted her thoughts. “I think you’re thinking too hard. Don’t pretend you didn’t get scared when I went under. I think you care about me.”

“Of course I got scared.”
Am
scared. She forced herself to turn around to discover he hadn’t moved, but the softness in his eyes had sharpened. “Who in their right mind wouldn’t have been scared?”

“You never used to be so cautious. Instead of debating whether to stay in the lean-to or run to the house, you’d have been challenging me to a race. After you’d already started running.”

“And I’d have won too,” she said softly. “If I didn’t get struck by lightning or slip in the mud and fall on my ass. Caution isn’t bad, you know. I was reckless back then.”

“Headstrong, maybe. Exuberant, definitely.” He rested his hands on her waist, his thumbs stroking beneath the swell of her breasts. “But now it’s like you have to think everything through a dozen times before you act.”

“I’ve grown up. I’ve learned some things are worth thinking about twice.”

“Twice? Do you know you always check that you have your seatbelt on three times before you put your car in gear? Or that you’re always tugging at your hemline or adjusting your clothes a hundred times a day?”

She was torn between wanting to argue that she was excessively cautious and being pleased that he’d paid that much attention. “See, I could argue that I’m safety conscious and aware that I have to present a good image since I work with the public.”

His hands moved higher. “The Allie I used to know didn’t care if there was mud splashed on her jeans or if her shirt had come untucked. The Allie I used to know wouldn’t have saddled up Buttercup today, or last week either. She would have insisted she’d proven herself a good rider and asked for a more spirited mare like Gabe’s Paint after the first time she’d been out.”

“The Allie you used to know screwed up a lot. Got kicked off a ranch for being
spirited.
” Lost her father because she’d acted without thinking. Not that being cautious had helped her keep Lewis happy.

“Then answer me one thing. Do you like the way you are now? Or do you miss the old Allie?”

“Maybe I should be asking you that question too.” Aware their future together hinged on his answer, she drew a long breath. “Do you like who I am now, or do you miss the old Allie?”

Because she couldn’t go back to those ways, couldn’t open herself to that type of hurt again.

“I love the fiery Allie. The Allie who doesn’t take shit from anyone. The one who stands up for her friends,” he answered softly, his heart in his eyes.

Did he realize he’d said he loved her? Or was he using the term the way he said he loved rocky road ice cream?

“When you first arrived and you let your boss run most of the meeting,” he continued, apparently unaware of how she was tearing apart what he’d admitted. “I wondered if your father or your husband had kicked the fire out of you. I hated to think you were living your life trying to please people who don’t care about you.

“But I’ve seen you, seen who you are, watched you handle Uncle Charlie. You’re still Allie, just all grown up. You might not be a vet like you’d planned, but you’re just as passionate as you were back then, whether it’s about the law or your friends.”

Was she? Some days she believed it, but other days she wondered just how much she’d sacrificed.

“You still have to answer my question,” he reminded her gently. “Do you like who you are now?”

She bit her bottom lip as she considered her answer. “I like parts of who I am, and I miss parts of who I was. And yeah, I’ve had to make some compromises. But can’t you say the same? Haven’t you had to make changes you might not have liked but were necessary? Especially now you’re the boss—you can’t just ditch work and play hooky whenever you want. There are cattle that need to be fed, crops to be sown or harvested. Employees to pay.”

The stiffness in his body softened and his lips curled in a playful smile that reached his eyes. “I could play hooky if I wanted. It wouldn’t be the first time.” He tugged her shirt from the waistband of her jeans so his hands could touch the skin of her belly and higher. “What do you think we were doing that day we met in Dallas?”

He dipped his head and nipped her earlobe. “I’d definitely say I was playing hooky that day. And all night, and the following morning.”