Had his brother and father shanghaied Neil to give him some time alone with Hannah? After the ear-blistering he’d gotten in the kitchen, he imagined the whole family had had a meeting about tonight with Gramps kicking off the ass-chewing and advice segment.
“Cooper took Hannah to see his room,” Will offered all casual-like.
“Good to know,” he answered with a polite nod. “Your lumber delivery didn’t arrive tonight.”
His brother’s brow wrinkled. “I’ll look into it.”
Neil nursed his drink, as quiet as that Valley of Silence his whisky was named after. His father only stared at him before looking out into the inky-black night. Ben took a moment to get his bearings. The moon rose over the curve of Wild Mountain, the crickets were loud as the dickens, as loud as the pounding in his head, and somewhere off in the distance, a coyote wailed, the sound as lonely as the beat of his heart.
He glanced over at his father. How many evenings had he wished him good night, sitting there with a whiskey in hand, stewing over all the thoughts he’d never tell a soul? Becausehe didn’t have anyone to share those special thoughts with, the ones you can’t trust just anyone to tell.
He didn’t want to end up on this porch, drinking his whiskey, alone like the man he feared he would never fully know.
Everyone was after him to convince Hannah to stay and give him another chance. Would she?Is that what I want too?He wondered if he’d fully trust that Hannah would settle here, because wasn’t that the essence of his fear?If she could leave once, couldn’t she do that again?But then he thought about losing her again, and that was only after a handful of days of having her home.She fits here. She always had.
And I want her to choose this place as her own.
He figured he had to give her a reason to.
“Make sure to call the lumberyard first thing in the morning, Will.”
Ben told himself not to worry about the delivery not arriving on time. The problem was, he would. They were never late.
“I’ll say good night, then. Neil, thank you for the whisky and for coming.”
They shared a look before the man tipped up his chin. He caught the warning, but also a touch of approval. Otherwise, Neil wouldn’t be sitting here drinking. The man was giving him an opening.
Stepping off the porch, he planted his boots deeper in the ground before walking on. He remembered what his grandfather had told him about putting in the work and planting new seeds.Now it’s time to re-till and plant what you really want.
He’d better get started.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ben’s houseshattered her defenses and tore at her heart.
Every little detail stabbed at her as Cooper gave her a tour. The excited little boy holding her hand didn’t know it, but she’d walked through this house before, the one with the exposed wooden ceiling beams, stone fireplaces, wide-plank hardwood floors, and reclaimed wood paneling.
She and Ben had once held hands and imagined living here and growing their family.
His grandparents had planned to move into the ranch house when she and Ben married. This house had been theirs. She could see the homey touches. The brightly colored patchwork quilt from well-loved farm clothes on the couch. The sign on the wall that saidHome is Where Our Herd Is.
Oh, how cute was that…
The cinnamon stick candleholders Cooper probably made in school, like she had when she was his age. The silver spray-painted pine cones in the hand-tooled wooden bowl in the shape of a beaver. The brown macramé owl hanging on the wall. The handblown ice bucket from a local artist. The cast-iron frying pans hanging from the large stone fireplace in the living room. The mantel was lined with photos of Ben’sfamily. Some she’d seen before, but there were new ones of him with Cooper and Will and the others.
But it was the black-and-white photo of him holding a sleeping baby Cooper to his chest wearing a dusty cowboy hat that had her heart aching.
How many times had she imagined such a scene? An old longing gripped her, and even when she tried to shake it off, she still felt its embrace.
“Hannah, this is Papa’s office,” Cooper announced as Tank wandered in and sat in front of the massive desk scattered with files and papers piled a foot high. “Dad says he’s never going to get to the bottom of some of his work stacks, even when he puts it on his Dude Dos. Those are the intentions we do sometimes to keep us on track. Uncle Will thinks it’s because he’d rather be on the range than pushing paper.”
Same old Ben. “Then it’s good Dusty takes care of most of the paperwork, huh?”
Then her heart caught. Standing prominently in the corner of Ben’s bookshelves was the silver statue of a cowboy holding the hand of a young boy. She’d bought him the present for the last birthday they’d celebrated together, believing her finding it in a thrift shop had been a sign about their future together.
The lights flickered, making her straighten.
“Did you see that?” Cooper asked.
