“My father is ill. I have to go see him.”
“What’s wrong with him? How sick is he?”
Elbows on his knees, Ben laced his fingers together. “He has pneumonia. I don’t know all the details, but it’s serious. And I need to go be with him for a while.”
Charlie frowned. “Is he going to die?”
“I hope not.” Ben dropped his gaze to his hands. What would it be like to never see his father again? So much left unsaid. “But only the Lord knows such things. We can pray and do what we can for the person, get them the best doctor, give them good care.”
“I pray at night before I go to bed. I can pray for your pa.”
“Thank you.” A weak smile ticked the corners of Ben’s mouth upward.
“When will you be back?” Charlie stopped fiddling with the horn and allowed it to lie in his lap.
Ben winced. “I can’t say for sure. Philadelphia is far away. And how long I stay once I get there depends on my father’s recovery.” Duty loomed like a dungeon door, ready to slam shut behind him. And who knew if Cora would want him back here? From her actions in the garden today, she’d likely be relieved to be shed of him.
Charlie drooped. “I don’t want you to be gone a long time, Ben. I need you to help me learn to be a cowboy and a warrior. Cora needs you too.” He wiggled a finger beneath the edge of his cast just past the hole for his thumb.
“I don’t have all of the answers, Charlie.” Ben scooted over and patted the side of the bunk beside him. “Why don’t you come here?”
Horn clasped in his good hand, Charlie trudged over and plopped down next to Ben. “Maybe Cora and I could come with you.”
As if Cora would ever agree to that. “That wouldn’t work, partner. Not for this visit. Maybe someday. For now, you twoneed to stay and take care of the ranch. I’ll get Mr. Franklin to help more while I’m away.”
“But he’s not you.”
Ben wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulders. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Sometimes a man has to do hard things. He has responsibilities. His word has to mean something. I have duties here, but I have them at home…in Pennsylvania, as well. I don’t know when I’ll be back. But don’t ever doubt that I love you. And even while I’m away, I’ll see that you and Cora are taken care of.”
“What about Wolf Heart? You told him you’d be my father.”
Ben stared at the worn rag rug at his feet. How was he going to answer that without discussing the rift with Cora? “If Wolf Heart shows up, tell him I’m still your pa. That I had to travel far away to take care of my sick father, and that you’re learning to be a man by taking care of the ranch and protecting your sister while I am gone.”
Charlie scuffed his shoe against the floor.
Ben hugged the boy close. “Shouldering your duty is as much part of learning to be a man as learning to lasso a calf or shoot a gun. When your sister writes me about you, I want to hear a good report.”
“You can count on me.” Charlie swiped a tear. “You’ll be back to teach me more.”
Thank goodness his last sentence wasn’t a question. The answer was as unfathomable as the distance to the stars.
Hair down her back, not yet done up for the day, Cora wrapped the hot biscuits in a checkered cloth and stuffed them in the empty haversack. Ben had sentCharlie with the message that they’d eat their breakfast on the road to town. The man hadn’t spoken with her since their confrontation in the garden yesterday. He’d left it to Charlie to deliver the news that his father was seriously ill and that he was leaving. Had Ben really received a telegram, or was it a story made up to spare further hurt?
What if he never came back? It’d be for the best, wouldn’t it? No more worry about her emotions overcoming her common sense and logic. No more fear of following in her mother’s footsteps. But what a hole it would leave in her heart, in her soul.
With a shudder, she added a pouch of fatback to the haversack. What if she was wrong about him? What if she was sending away the only man she’d ever really love? But she wasn’t exactly sending him away. He had an obligation to his father. Who was she fooling? Her words to him yesterday cut the tie between them more surely than any telegram ever could.
Specks of flour clung to the fringe of her shawl. She should change out of her chemise and put on her day dress before Ben showed up at the door to collect the food. Instead, she shuffled over to the floor by the cupboard and retrieved a couple of cucumbers from the basket. Ben had seen her night clothes before, the time she’d spied him pacing by the corral after midnight, and the coyote howls had kept her awake. Had he been thinking about riding into town for laudanum that night? What if the day Mr. Keeley had written about wasn’t the first time Ben had given in to the craving?
Her chest tightened. Maybe Keeley’s report and Ben’s decision to leave, whether his father was ill or not, was all part of God’s way of saying no. His way of stopping her before she made a terrible mistake. She’d been naïve to believe Ben had shaken the need forever. And yet her stupid heart went on hurting and yearning. Too stubborn to listen to reason.
She tucked the cucumbers into the haversack and turned to head to her bedroom. The back door creaked. She tugged her shawl closed across her chest as Ben stepped into the kitchen.
Dressed in a gray frock coat and blue cotton shirt, Ben drank her in, eyes wide. A lock of dark hair dipped across his forehead, and stubble darkened his jaws. As handsome as she’d ever seen him, except there was no light in this gaze. His frown twitched upward for a moment before hardening into a straight line.
She had his attention, but that’s all she had. “I’m almost finished packing your breakfast.” Her voice wavered.
He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew an envelope. “In case you need proof of my father’s illness.” He tossed it onto the work table. “I wanted to save you the trouble of having to search my room for it.”
