Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Their neighbors were bringing extra lumber by.
Truck after truck, their neighbors drove up the main road to the ranch, dropping off extra lumber for the cause in the yard. Ben lifted his hat and scratched his head every time. He'd known these people all his life, and still, he couldn't get over their kindness.
One thing was certain: no one was surprised they suspected Taft was behind the “mix-up.”
Ben answered question after question from his friends. No, they hadn’t figured out yet how it happened. What did it mean for them and Wild Mountain? He had no idea. What did it mean for Sanctuary Springs? Ask him another question.
By noon, he was rubbing the base of his neck as he watched Cooper talking with Amber’s father, who’d generously brought a whole store of lumber they’d had on hand to build a new horse barn at the Flying K. The town was upset, his ex-father-in-law included. Worse, they were worried.
If James Taft was going to play dirty, what were they supposed to do? Not everyone had reserve funds for a mishap, nor lawyers to involve if any justice was possible. Ben didn’t have enough answers for himself, least of all his friends.
Skip Jenkins’ arrival had him pausing before going up the road to see Hannah.
She hadn’t come down yet from Will’s house, and he’d been anxiously waiting, wanting to show her where they planned to build her school at the construction site.
After their closeness on the porch last night, he was eager to make her smile again.
She was coming to trust him again, and more than their attraction, that trust meant everything to him.
Ben returned his attention to their neighbor to the south.
The eighty-six-year-old man uncurled slowly out of his truck, his weathered face a testament to the sun and wind he’d dealt with day in and day out for decades.
Ben looked at men like that and wondered if nature would carve its mark on his features as he aged.
He found he didn’t mind. It showed character.
“Skip, it’s mighty nice of you to come by. ”
“I heard there’d been trouble.” He shook hands with Ben and walked him back to the flatbed. “It’s mostly reclaimed wood paneling, but I might have more exposed wooden ceiling beams and wide-plank hardwood floorboards for you to use if you’re willing to pull them out.”
Ben frowned. “From where?”
The old-timer looked down, and the pause chilled Ben. “From some of the barns and outbuildings on the Diamond J. Ben, I’m thinking about selling some of my land. I’m not getting any younger, and after a recent episode with my heart, I realized I might need to downsize my herd.”
Everything in Ben stilled. Everyone in Sanctuary Springs had wondered what would happen to Skip Jenkins’ place for over fifteen years, but he’d kept going alone after his kids showed no interest in ranching. “I didn’t know you’d had health trouble.”
His wrinkles deepened as he snarled, “Ask your gramps or your father about that funny little pain you get in your side as you dig fence posts as you get older. It happens. I don’t think it’s much to worry about.
Even Paul Kincaid’s had his fair share of issues lately, and he’s still working as hard as he ever did.
Good work keeps a man healthy, but let’s face it, I’m as old as dirt.
Most men my age are in the ground by now. ”
Ben had watched age and health make decisions for his father and Gramps. Every time, the viewing had been painful. “Skip, you need any help on the Diamond J, all you have to do is ask.”
Skip laid a weathered hand on Ben’s shoulder.
“Thank you, Ben. But that’s not a sustainable answer.
I can always hire more men. It’s the managing of it that keeps you up at night and makes you put in long days.
I’m not afraid of hard work, but I’m no spring chicken.
Used to be my bones only ached in winter. Now they ache all the time.”
Ben made a show of twisting his spine and groaning. “Hell, Skip, my joints ache. Are you saying I’m no spring chicken?”
The older man laughed heartily. “More like a barred rock rooster. Dependable. Hardy. Friendly. Protective. They do what they’re supposed to.”
Ben chuckled easily. “I’ll take the compliment. Will’s been comparing me to a grizzly. Skip, how much land are we talking? Maybe I could buy some.”
He inwardly cursed at the timing. His emergency fund was going to the lumber, even with his neighbors’ generous help.
That meant the bank, and while they’d used loans in the past, the Triple M preferred not to take them.
Nature was a fickle creature, and men had gone broke not being able to pay them back.
“That would be my preferred option.” Skip gestured to the ranch with a smile on his face.
“I don’t want to sell to an outsider like James Taft, especially if he’s the one behind your shipment going missing.
Then again, he’d be continuing the troubles his ancestor was known for.
I’m older than you. I was weaned on those stories of Elena McAllister challenging him to a poker game in a fancy yellow gown handmade in San Francisco.
Of course no one told me as a young’un about the whorehouse deed being the prize. That came later.”
Ben sent him an amused smile while he thought things through.
They had to find the money to buy that land.
When there was drought, and there had been, Skip let them water their herd on his land to the south.
The thought of Taft or anyone else getting their hands on it and then blocking them from that water would turn his hair gray.
“I’ll come back to you with an offer straightaway. ”
“You do that.” He clapped him on the back. “Well, I’ll help you unload.”
Ben signaled to a few ranch hands who’d been hanging around in the yard, waiting to help. “Thanks, Skip. We’ve got it. Why don’t you head to the main house? Reba made a strawberry pie last night, and I think there’s a slice left.”
“Best news I’ve had all day.” Skip tipped his hat and started for the house.
Ben eyed the lumber. They needed to see how much they could use and divide it between exterior and interior construction, but not right now.
Will was up with men laying rebar and wire mesh reinforcement so they could pour the concrete foundation.
By the time the concrete cured, they’d have their new lumber shipment.
This lumber would work perfectly for Hannah’s school.
“Ben!”
He spun around at the warm, feminine voice he loved so well.
Hannah looked much like the girl he remembered, wearing one of her short-sleeved plaid shirts tied at her waist, denim jeans that hugged her sweet little body, and her favorite pair of cowboy boots.
So beautiful. His heart ached at the knowledge that he’d almost lost this…
the gift of seeing Hannah coming toward him on the ranch.
“Hey there. I was waiting for you to come out.”
The delighted flash in her sparkling eyes told him she’d looked forward to seeing him too. Yeah, he hadn’t been reading her wrong last night. At one point, he knew she’d thought about stepping into his arms.
“Neil and I were organizing plants to bring down to my new place. Goodness, it’s been nice seeing people coming around with lumber. I got a little choked up when I saw the first truck arrive.”
“Word got around.” He wanted to touch the lock of auburn hair lying over her shoulder and rub it between his fingers like he used to. “You know how people are.”
“Yeah.” She smiled softly, a smile that took his breath away. “I missed that.”
He’d wondered if people in Scotland had treated her neighborly, but with city living, he doubted it. Who had helped her carry anything heavy when she needed it or helped her lug home her Christmas tree and put it up for her? He now suspected Neil had. “I have something I want to show you.”
“Now?” She anxiously glanced around at all the activity. “You look awfully busy. In fact, I was going to ask you if you wanted to postpone our picnic today.”
No way in hell. He clasped her shoulders, all too aware of the sweet lines of her body. “For you, Hannah, there’s always time.”
She swallowed thickly, her muscles tensing at his touch. “All right. When?”
He eased his hands away, knowing he needed to be patient. Touching her was like lighting a stick of dynamite. They both could feel it. “How about six?” He would talk to Reba about looking after Cooper. “That way I can arrange for some food.” Which also involved another Reba conversation…
“You don’t have to—”
“Ben!”
He looked over his shoulder and spotted his father on the front porch, beckoning him over. Damn, he’d planned to take Hannah up to the site. He’d bet ten bucks Skip had talked to Dad and Gramps about selling some of his land out of respect.
Otherwise, his father wouldn’t have interrupted his discussion with Hannah.
They’d like to discuss a purchase. While he managed the ranch, they’d run it longer than he had.
All major decisions were still discussed as a family.
Today was going to be a long one. “I’ll be right there, Dad.
Hannah, I have to run, but I’ll meet you in the barn at six. All right?”
“Only if you let me arrange the food.”
He tapped the end of her nose playfully. “No, ma’am. I’ll see you later.”
Striding quickly toward the house, he detoured to the kitchen, hoping to catch Reba. She arranged submarine sandwiches on serving plates while Grams shelled peas at the kitchen table. His mouth watered. Man, he was starved.
“Hi, Grams.” He kissed her cheek before turning to Reba. “I need your help.”
She didn’t look up from her work. “I can go into town and pick up Cooper from Paisley’s house. I hear you have a land deal to discuss.”
He grabbed a piece of lunch meat from the package. She slapped his hand, of course. “Thanks for picking him up. It was mighty nice of Wanda to run up during her coffee break.”
“Nice thing about owning your own business is deciding your hours. I heard Hannah did some shopping there with Neil the other day. Wanda said she wished our Scot would stay around.”
When the hell had he become their Scot? Talk like this drove him nuts, and she was putting her screws into him by gabbing about it. He didn’t care if Wanda was interested in dating Neil. “Reba, could you fry up some of your famous fried chicken for me by six? Please,” he added.
She slapped his hand when he reached for a packet of cheddar cheese. “Ben, I’m serving sandwiches in a couple of minutes, and I need the fixings for the extra company. As for your chicken, I can’t unfreeze a broiler in that time.”
He almost cringed as he asked. “You can’t defrost it in the microwave?”
His granny hooted from the table. “Oh, Benjamin…”
“Ben McAllister,” Reba bit out as she continued laying down lunch meat and cheese like a one-woman assembly line, “chicken tends to cook in the microwave even on defrost. Does this mean you’re finally getting off your butt and having a picnic with Hannah?”
“Yes, I’m taking your advice and doing something active.”
Grams started laughing. “Active? Is that what they’re calling courting these days?”
“Ask Reba, Grams.” His lips twitched as he slid his gaze over to the covered pie plate on the counter. “How much pie do you have left?”
She gave him an aggrieved look. “Not enough. Ben, I’ll call Flo Hawkins and see if she has some freshly killed hens ready for sale.”
He grabbed her by the shoulders and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you! If it was anyone else but Hannah… Can you also take care of Cooper tonight?”
“I didn’t think you were planning to bring him along with you,” she teased with a sly wink.
“Makes any smooching tough,” Grams agreed with a chortle. “Ben McAllister, you have it bad.”
“Don’t I know it. Reba, I’ll send a ranch hand over to Flo’s place. Say the word.”
“Can you have him dredge the pieces in flour and fry them in lard for me?” She shot him a long-suffering look. “Fried chicken. Hand to God, Ben, you’ll owe me for this. I have a busy day too.”
He leaned in cautiously to give her another kiss on her cheek. “Sorry to add to it, Reba. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Never let anyone say you can’t sweet-talk someone as good as your brother when you set your mind to it.” She tweaked his cheek. “Now get on in there and secure that land.”
“Ben, I’ll make you and Hannah a pie,” Grams offered, rising slowly from her chair, a soft smile on her face. “My eyes are too bad for the fried chicken.”
Ben walked over and kissed her softly on the cheek too, inhaling her powdery scent. “You’re a sweetheart.”
“So your grandfather tells me every day. Now go in there. It’s a big day when there’s talk of the Triple M buying Diamond J land.”
It surely was.
And he knew who was going to be mighty pissed when he found out.
James Taft, that’s who.
He smiled as he left the room.