Teresa Bodwell (12 page)
Authors: Loving Miranda
At the sound of hoof beats, Miranda turned to the road in time to see a lone rider trotting toward the house. “Ben?” she whispered. It shouldn’t have been a surprise; he had said he was coming. Still, her pulse started a wild jig at the sight of him. She was hopeless.
Slapping Gertie’s rump, Miranda got the cows to head toward the barn. Rosie followed the first cow at a pace that would make a snail impatient.
“I suppose you two will give plenty of cream tonight,” Miranda said. This pair didn’t waste energy on anything other than making milk. Just as well, maybe she could avoid seeing Ben altogether. He’d come to inquire about the books, not to see her. That was for the best, because she didn’t need the likes of Ben Lansing troubling her.
After settling the cows into their stalls, Miranda fetched the stool and bucket to prepare for milking. The pad of footfalls near the door startled her, and she dropped the bucket. The outline of a large man appeared in the door with the evening sun behind him so that it was impossible to see the man’s face.
“Thad?” Miranda’s voice faltered.
“It’s me.” Ben walked toward her.
Miranda pulled herself taller. She sucked in a breath. “Are you looking for my sister, or my brother-in-law?”
“I’ve already spoken with your sister. You were right—she didn’t keep my brother’s ledgers.” Ben stepped into the light from one of the open windows. “She’s going to let me look through the copies she made.” He kept walking toward her. “I came in here looking for you.”
His eyes slid down and crept upward until she felt he was studying every inch of her. She lifted her chin in an effort to appear calm and certain of herself.
“Why are you afraid of me?”
“I’m not afraid.” She glared at him, or at least she tried to glare.
He took another step forward and she stepped back before she could stop herself.
Damn the man!
She set her hands on her hips. “What business do you have with me?”
Damn the man!
She set her hands on her hips. “What business do you have with me?”
“Unfinished business.” His eyes held hers, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe.
“It wasn’t me who stepped away.” The words slipped out and she realized that his rejection, which should have been a relief, still hurt.
“I know.” Ben smiled and she could almost feel his lips on hers. “I want to apologize.”
“Don’t be silly. Why would you apologize?”
“Because I think I misled you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I may have given you the impression I wasn’t interested in kissing you.”
“Who said anything about . . . kissing?”
He stepped forward again and she took another step back, finding her back against the solid wood of the barn wall.
“I did.” Ben caressed her cheek, smooth as satin, but warm against his fingertips. “Stayed awake all night thinking about it.”
She smiled and her eyes seemed to reflect the sunlight itself. Ben’s heart skipped a beat. He skimmed his thumb under her chin and tilted her face up to his. Somewhere in the back of his mind a small voice warned him to stop. He didn’t listen.
Her lips tasted good, felt wonderful. Soft, moist, and warm. He teased them open with his tongue and found his way inside, touching and tasting her tongue in a dance of sweet yearning that echoed the need he felt. For a moment, the pleasure of holding her was enough. Her small body tight against him—her scent sweeter than honey. Curse his weakness, he couldn’t help wanting more. Reaching down, he cupped her bottom, feeling the round, supple shape even through the wool skirt she wore. He pressed her solidly against him, which only increased the agony of his desire. A quiet moan of pleasure came from deep in Miranda’s throat, and the sound brought him a joy nearly as intense as the need he felt. He lifted his head and looked into her face—her eyes closed, a sweet smile upon her lips. Her lids slid open and she stared at him, the only movement the tip of her tongue touching her lips.
A tear trickled down her cheek. He dipped his head, kissing and licking the salty tear away. “Well, that was better than I dreamed it,” he murmured against her cheek.
“Mr. Lansing?” Mercy’s voice came from outside the barn.
Ben spun around and walked toward the door. “Yes, ma’am, I’m coming.” He didn’t dare look back at Miranda as he stepped quickly out into the sunshine, cursing himself for the fool he was.
What mad impulse caused her sister to invite Ben Lansing for supper Miranda couldn’t imagine. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him sipping his coffee. He set the cup down and scraped the last of his pie onto his fork before lifting it slowly up to his lips.
He wiped a napkin over his lips and turned to face Mercy. “I’ve had no complaints about the food at Rita’s, but this is the finest meal I’ve had in recent memory.”
“I’m pleased that you enjoyed it, Ben. My sister is a fine cook.”
Miranda’s cheeks flamed as he turned his gaze to her. “My compliments to you, then, Miranda.”
“Thank you.”
“I hope you young folks will excuse me. I’ve had a long day.”
“Are you feelin’ all right, Pa?” Miranda studied her father as he shoved to his feet.
He smiled and bent to kiss her cheek. “Just tired, my girl.” He pecked Mercy’s cheek, too. “Good night.”
“Good night, Pa.” Mercy stood and began gathering the dishes, but Thad stopped her. “You and Ben can take some time reviewing the books. I’ll help Miranda.” He retrieved the two thick ledger books from the shelves and set an extra tallow candle on the table.
“Thank you, dear.” Mercy wiped off a corner of the table and opened one of the books. “I’m afraid you won’t get too much information here, Ben. Your brother’s ledgers were damaged in the fire. I copied what I could into a new ledger, but some of it is outright guessing.”
“Hmm.” Ben bent over the page and studied it.
Miranda scraped the plates, while Thad took the kettle off the stove and filled a pan with hot water.
“I can wash,” Miranda said.
“After that fine supper? Least I can do is wash the dishes.” Thad took a wet rag and commenced scrubbing. “Here, Jonathan. Leave your mother be. Aunt Miranda and I can use your help.”
They worked together in silence for a time. Finally, Thad started whistling the “Blue Tail Fly.” Jonathan puckered his lips and tried to imitate Thad with little success. Miranda chuckled and Thad winked at her. She smiled at her brother-in-law, hoping he had forgiven her for her foolishness earlier.
“What’s this page?” Ben asked.
Miranda noticed Thad tense, though he continued whistling. He fished out a rag for Jonathan and handed the boy a tin cup to wash.
“Cattle.” Mercy leaned forward and pointed to the page. “Couldn’t find a record of what Arthur had, so I took Buck out to the herd and counted.”
“Buck?”
“One of our hired men. Been with us almost as long as we’ve been in Colorado.”
“So, he works for you.”
Miranda cringed.
“That’s right, he works for me.” Mercy’s voice sounded strained now. She hated being questioned. “And he’s an honest man. You’re welcome to talk to him.”
“I’d like to do that.”
“I’ll arrange it tomorrow,” Mercy snapped.
“This shows the count, then. And this?”
“Those are the animals we sold for meat.” Mercy brushed her hand over the page. “And these we kept for breeding.”
“You have the bulls marked separately.”
“That’s right. Generally we’d put aside some bulls for breeding.”
“It looks like you sold them all.”
“We had to. I told you there were a good many debts.”
“Without breeding bulls, Jonathan’s herd will die.”
“That would be true, except that we’re running our bulls with both herds; there were plenty of new calves born to Jonathan’s herd. Now the advantage—”
“The advantage is you run the herds together and soon Jonathan’s herd becomes a part of your—”
Mercy’s chair scraped against the floor as she leaped to her feet. “Now you lis—”
Ben caught Mercy as she nearly toppled over. Thad was there an instant later and helped his wife back onto her chair.
“I’m fine.” Mercy’s voice trembled as she spoke. She smiled at Thad. “I stood up too fast.” She touched his cheek. “Don’t fret.”
Thad captured her hand and turned to Ben. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lansing. I’m going to insist my wife gets some rest.”
“Don’t be sil—” Mercy started.
“Rest.” Thad’s voice was quiet, but firm. He glared at his wife for several seconds before turning back to Ben. “You’re welcome to look over the ledgers all you want. I’ll get you some paper so you can write down any questions to ask my wife in the mornin’.”
“Of course.” Ben stood as Thad helped Mercy to her feet and led her toward the bedroom.
“It was a little dizzy spell, no need to make a fuss,” Mercy muttered.
“Mama?” Jonathan tugged on Mercy’s skirt.
“Come on, then.” Mercy ran her fingers through Jonathan’s hair. “If your father is going to insist I lie down at this hour, I’m going to have to read. What would you like to hear?”
They couldn’t hear Jonathan’s response as Thad pulled the heavy door closed behind him. Ben looked at Miranda.
“I’m sorry if I said anything to cause . . .”
She set her hands on her hips and stared at him. “It didn’t occur to you, I suppose, that some people take offense at being called thieves.”
“I never said—”
“You’re impossible! You think because you and all your Lansing kin worship money that the rest of the world feels the same way. Well, let me tell you something, Ben Lansing, Mercy and Thad took your nephew into their home because they care about him.” She stomped her foot against the rough pine floor. “Love is more important to them than money ever will be.”
“I hope you’re right,” Ben snapped. “I’m not the evil man you insist on making me. All I want is to be certain my nephew has his due.”
“And you get your five thousand dollars!”
“Yes, I made a large loan to my brother, and I would like to be repaid. Thad and Mercy can keep the interest, but I need the money. I have plans.”
Miranda raised both eyebrows. “Must be very important plans to need five thousand dollars.”
“I’m staking my whole future on this.” Ben glanced at the door to Mercy’s bedroom. “If the money is gone, so be it. I’ll leave without causing any further grief here. But I will be certain Jonathan has not been cheated.”
Miranda pulled a chair away from the table and sat down. “What do you know about cattle?”
“Very close to nothing.”
“Ever heard of longhorns and Herefords?”
“Those are breeds, aren’t they?”
“Very good. You ain’t so ignorant, after all.” She grinned at him. “Sit down and let me explain something about my sister and her cows.”
Ben sat next to Miranda. She studied the way his collar fit against his sinewy neck and raised her eyes to the shadow of beard on his cheek.
Think, Miranda. Concentrate.
Think, Miranda. Concentrate.
“I reckon Mercy could explain this better, but there is a simple explanation for why they sold off those bulls.”
Ben crossed his arms in front of his chest, waiting for her explanation.
“If you’re not going to listen . . .”
“I’m listening!”
She shrugged. “Longhorns are known to be rugged; that’s why you’ll see them all over the West. They’re a good choice for raising in wild country.” She looked at Ben. “Now Herefords are meatier, plenty of fat on ’em to make the meat more tender.”
“I’m certain you’re going to explain why this lesson is relevant.”
She tapped two fingers on the table and sighed.
The man is being dense intentionally!
“There was no point in keepin’ the longhorn bulls for breedin’ when they could use the Herefords instead. Jonathan’s herd will be more valuable now that he has a mix of Hereford and longhorns. That’s why Mercy imported those Hereford bulls—to make a breed that would be rugged like longhorns, only meatier.”
The man is being dense intentionally!
“There was no point in keepin’ the longhorn bulls for breedin’ when they could use the Herefords instead. Jonathan’s herd will be more valuable now that he has a mix of Hereford and longhorns. That’s why Mercy imported those Hereford bulls—to make a breed that would be rugged like longhorns, only meatier.”
“I think my brother wrote something about a new breeding program he was involved in.”
“That’s right. He loaned Mercy some of the money to import the bulls. I don’t think he expected her plan to work.”
“Why would he loan her money if he didn’t expect to earn a profit?”
“So he could grow his ranch. He wanted our land. His land was near dry. Arthur wanted the water from Jake’s Creek that runs through our property.”
Ben thought about that for a moment. Arthur had mentioned a plan to acquire his neighbor’s ranch. “But your sister’s plan did work.”
“Yes.”
“And she never repaid Arthur.”
“Well, she did and she didn’t.”
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