Exactly what he was thinking. He glanced into her puffy eyes. “But I’d do it if it would help alleviate some of your concerns about me.”
A trace of a smothered squeal squeaked through her teeth. “I know you think I’m a terrible person.” She swung her arms wide, almost clipping him with her fingers. “But I’m not. It’s…it’s my father.”
“Your father?” Ben jerked to full attention.
“Never mind.” She sniffled.
“What does my medicine and helping you with the ranch have to do with your father?”
Her face reddened. “It’s not medicine.” She practically spat out the words.
He reared back. “What is it, then? The doctor in South Caroline prescribed it for me in the hospital when I was in such bad shape I couldn’t even get out of bed. They didn’t know if I was going to live or die. The druggist gave it to you. And your Dr. LeBeau was eager to offer me more.” Why the devil did his voice shake?
“I didn’t know the previous doctor prescribed it. I only know the way you looked at it… The way you reacted to the sight of it… It’s more than medicine to you.”
Heat rose up his neck and flooded his cheeks. “What does your father have to do with me or my medicine?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“I’d rather you did.” He flexed his hands at his sides. A muscle in his jaw twitched.
She lifted her gaze to his. “My father’s need for his whiskey took over his life. Just a different type of bottle.”
He stumbled back a step. She might as well have slapped him. It was as if she’d bored a hole right through him.
“I’m sorry.” She mumbled. “It’s none of my business.”
“You’re right about that.” His words cut sharp as he donned his hat and stomped down the steps.
He was nothing like her father, the man who’d cheated on his wife, the man who hadn’t shown Charlie love, the man who’d left his children with a skeleton of a ranch and no means to maintain it. Jeb had sent him here for a reason because Jeb hadn’t trusted their father to take care of the family. Ben was going to show Cora a thing or two. He muttered under his breath, “In case your memory fails you, Miss Scott, I didn’t grab the bottle and drink it. I threw it across the room.”
His hands clenched as he marched across the yard to the stables. He’d skip breakfast. He had a palisade gate to repair.
Cora swiped her arm over her forehead as she stirred the beans around a ham hock. At the end of the crane, rice simmered in a kettle. The wood beneath crackled as muted flames licked the bark. She’d warned Ben to be home before dark. Hopefully, the man would listen. Ben hadn’t lived on the frontier long enough to have the dangers ingrained in his brain, as they had been in hers, leaking all the way to her heart.
In the ten days since the confrontation with Ben, he’d fixed the palisade gate, porch, and corral, working himself to exhaustion. Yet every morning, he’d be up with the rooster’s crow ready to help with the animals and work on the outbuildings and structures. He only paused when she sent Charlie to bring him his noon meal. The boy ate with her, but as soon as he finished, he rushed out the door to work at Ben’s side. For his part, Ben had managed to speak less than a couple dozen words to her, measuring them out in spats of two or three as if they were coins to be hoarded.
A rumble. She stood and listened. A wagon. They were back. She set the spoon down and hurried into the hall and out the front door.
Charlie hopped down from the wagon, grinning from ear to ear. A black-and-white collie puppy squirmed in his arms. “Cora, look what Ben bought me. Ain’t he cute? His name is Jack.”
Was there no end to the decisions this man made without bothering to ask her? First, the trip to town and now this.
The corner of Ben’s mouth twitched upward. “I figured he’d be a good yard dog when he’s grown. Warn us…about intruders and help herd the cattle.”
Us. The word unleased a wave of qualms through her midsection.
Charlie skipped toward her. “He’ll be tough like a bear when he grows up.” He shoved the bundle of fur and wiggles into her arms before she could open her mouth to protest.
Two dark eyes gazed up at her from a black mask. One ear dipped downward, and a pink tongue lolled to the side as the puppy grinned at her. How could she say no?
Charlie patted Jack’s forehead. “Can he sleep in my room? I’ve got an old blanket I could put on the floor.”
“You don’t want to make him too comfy.” Black hat tipped back on his head, Ben lifted a crate from the rear of the wagon. “He’s got to be tough to do his duty.”
“I’m sure a little comfort and companionship won’t hurt him.” Cora gently handed the puppy back to Charlie.
Ben snorted. “That’s been my thoughts on the matter all along.” He stepped past her and stomped his boots on the reed rug before he entered the house.
