Safe In The Rancher's Arms. Catherine Mann

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       Eight

      Beth navigated the gym, stopping to talk to a few people she recognized. Despite the circumstances, the large room felt comfortable and safe. Because so many families were in the same boat, a sense of camaraderie permeated the air.

      Nobody was perfect. Tempers flared occasionally, and children fussed when they were tired and hungry. Without asking, Beth joined the line of volunteers helping serve a simple spaghetti dinner. Folding tables—hastily set up—accommodated the large crowd in shifts. She watched the hallway that led to the school proper and knew the moment Drew reappeared.

      His eyes scanned the room. She couldn’t tell if he saw her or not. Instead of crossing the gym in her direction, he spoke with the site coordinator and was soon climbing a very tall ladder to replace lightbulbs on the ceiling.

      Beth loved the way he walked and moved. He was confident, masculine and strong. Drew was the kind of man who should have at least a couple of kids, maybe more. He would be an incredible father. Beth had no memory of her father, so she didn’t have much personal basis for comparison. But she knew that things like compassion and generosity and gentleness were important.

      While she had read Charlotte’s Web to the group of children, one small boy had climbed without fanfare into Drew’s lap. Far from seeming uncomfortable, Drew had murmured something to the kid and curled an arm around his waist.

      Witnessing that moment had twisted something in Beth’s heart. But she ignored the wistful stab of longing. Perhaps because she was unable to decide if the pang was because of all she had missed as a child or because she was pretty sure she didn’t have what it took to be a parent.

      A request for a refill pulled her back to the present. It was clear that people in this room were dealing with a host of emotions. Obviously, they were grateful for the meal and the shelter. But many of the men and women gathered under this one big roof were unaccustomed to accepting handouts. They seemed shell-shocked, as if still not quite believing they had lost their homes and most of their possessions.

      Beth had an advantage there. She had learned at an early age that things could be taken away. One dismal January when the rent was due and money was nonexistent, Beth’s mother had done the unthinkable: she pawned the two shiny new bicycles a charity group had provided for Beth and Audie at Christmas. Audie wailed, but Beth never shed a tear, her grief and anger too deep to articulate. From then on, she understood that happiness was not to be trusted if it depended on accumulating material belongings.

      She liked nice things. But she wasn’t driven to purchase them for herself. It was far more satisfying to put time and effort into her fields and to watch new life grow. Her house had been ripped apart, and there was a good chance that her brother would rob her blind. But she had to let it go. Those realities were out of her control.

      In the end, Audie could only hurt her if she valued what he took. She had no childhood mementos. No much-loved antiques that had been her grandmother’s. No school trophies. No heirloom jewelry.

      All she had was herself and her determination to make a good life. A clean life. A life worth living. It was a truth she shared with many in this room.

      When the last of the refugees had been served, Beth and her co-workers sat down to eat. Drew snagged the seat beside her at the last minute. They ate quickly. It had been a long time since lunch.

      Beneath the table, his thigh pressed against hers. The chairs were crunched closely together because of the confined space. It was impossible to ignore him even if she had wanted to.

      He reached over and used his napkin to wipe a dab of sauce from her chin. “You about ready to go home?”

      She nodded, feeling breathless suddenly. Drew’s gaze was warm and intimate. Did he mean for the evening to conclude in a very special way? They were both dirty and sweaty. Nothing in their current situation could be construed as romantic by any stretch of the imagination. But when his hand brushed hers, her throat constricted and her body felt hot and achy.

      For months she had seen him as an adversary. A very sexy, gorgeous man, but someone to keep at bay, nevertheless. Now, the lines were blurred. They had shared a terrifying experience. Not only that, but they were working side by side in the town they both loved.

      Comrades in arms often developed deep friendships during time spent in battle. Beth and Drew found themselves serving in the trenches, as it were. Their physical closeness had accelerated the formation of a definite bond. But as much as she liked and respected Drew, she definitely wanted more than friendship.

      Wanting was okay. Crossing a physical line was okay. As long as she understood he wasn’t hers to keep.

      * * *

      Drew was bone tired and yet still aroused. He admired Beth so much. Despite personal losses, she had plunged headfirst into helping her neighbors. Instead of fretting about her own disaster, she acted as if nothing were wrong.

      On the way back to the ranch, he glanced at his silent partner. “Do you want to stop by your house and check on things?”

      “No.” She didn’t dress up her refusal.

      “Are you sure? It won’t take but a minute.”

      “I said no.”

      The snap in her voice pissed him off. He could have found any one of a number of topics to chat about, but her stubbornness shut him up. Surely her brother’s situation weighed on her. It was easily within Drew’s power to erase all that stress. He had a legitimate job available for Audie. If Beth had asked, Drew would even move Audie and his family to Willowbrook temporarily.

      So either Beth didn’t want to help her brother, or Beth didn’t want to accept Drew’s help. Come to think about it, she hadn’t exactly been enthused about staying at Willowbrook Farms herself.

      Pulling up in front of the home where he had lived since birth, Drew shoved the gearshift into park, got out, and slammed the door. Hard. If Beth didn’t want his assistance, he wouldn’t force it on her. He had better things to do than wrangle with a hardheaded woman.

      He unlocked the front door, not waiting to see if she had followed him. The house echoed with emptiness. The housekeeper had gone home, as had all of Drew’s staff except for the handful of guys who kept watch over the animals at night. Now he and Beth were alone. The thought tormented him.

      He went straight to his bedroom, stripped СКАЧАТЬ