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Not any she knew.
She could wish for things until the mountains crumbled, but the fact remained that no one wanted the trouble she would bring them. Like it or not, she was more than likely doomed to spend the rest of her life alone, pining for a man who couldn’t put the whiskey down long enough to notice her.
Chapter Six
Keeping her head down while in town worked most of the time, but today, Morning Dove had been spit at enough she was ready to be the thing they feared she was—a bloodthirsty Indian.
She ignored the whispered, hate filled words flung her way as she headed back to where she left Wind Chaser tied. She half expected to see her gone when she reached her, but the painted mare was waiting patiently.
Morning Dove stowed the goods she had bought in the saddlebags and was tying them shut when loud voices filled the air. Hoots of laughter followed by angry words echoed down the street, and everyone seemed to stop at once to see what was happening.
Commotion by the saloon drew her gaze. People on the sidewalk stopped to stare inside the building, several stepping close to look over the swinging doors. They all jumped back a moment later when someone came barreling through them to land in a crumpled heap in the road. It only took her a second to realize it was Ben.
Several men filled the doorway of the saloon, all of them laughing at Ben laying in the street, before they all turned and went back inside. Morning Dove’s heart clenched as she watched Ben lay in the road, unmoving.
Betsey’s disapproval of her brother’s habit of hanging out in the saloon was a sore topic every time it was brought up. Aaron saw nothing wrong with his brother-in-law killing time swilling whiskey, but Betsey thought otherwise. Morning Dove had to agree with her now that she realized there were girls of ill repute in there. The very thought of Ben with one of those women made her see red for reasons she did not want to examine more deeply. Admitting she had feelings for Ben would only lead her to more heartache, and she had enough of that to last her two lifetimes. She certainly was not going to invite more in.
Those on the sidewalk left, everyone either ignoring or pretending Ben was not in the street. Their disregard for him burned as hot as it did when they spit on her and called her names. Ben was a part of this community. Had been since he and Betsey were children. Why was everyone pretending he was not there?
She unwound Wind Chaser’s reins from the hitching post and walked her across the road to where Ben was slowly sitting up.
Their shadow fell over him, and he squinted as he looked up at her. She bit her tongue to keep from gasping at the sight of him. His eyes were so bloodshot she was not sure how he even saw anything, and the stench coming from him told her he was drunk before he even opened his mouth.
His lip was split, but the blood running from his nose made her still.
He shifted and frowned while staring up at her. “I keep looking for you when I get home but you’re never there.”
The day Betsey had left her at his house flashed inside her mind's eye. She had thought about that day a lot over the past several weeks, and wishful thinking had her imagining him coming home and being disappointed at not finding her there. Had he really been expecting her to be in his home when he came in from work, or was he saying those things to be nice?
He looks too drunk to deceive you.
Laughter from the saloon drew his attention, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the swinging doors. She did not know what had happened to get him thrown out, but she would not stand there and let it happen again.
She leaned down and grabbed his arm, tugging on it so he would move. “Come on, Ben. Let me help you home.” It took more than one try to get him up on his feet, and he staggered before getting his balance. “Where is Cash?” She glanced at the hitching posts in front of the saloon, but did not see him.
Ben swayed and looked down the road. “I left him at the livery. Didn’t want any of these no good saddle bums stealing him when I wasn’t looking.”
His speech was slurred enough to tell her he was more than a little drunk. Could she run to the livery and get Cash before he fell down—or worse, went back inside the saloon?
Probably not.
“Can you walk?”
“Um…yes?”
He grinned, his boyish charm hidden behind blood and more than a few bruises. She hooked her arm in his and tugged him into motion. “Come.”
The walk to the livery stable was slow. Ben had to hold on to Wind Chaser’s saddle to keep his balance. Thankfully, the man who ran the livery stable saddled Cash for them. He had never spoken to her before, but unlike most people, he smiled when he saw her and greeted her as he did everyone else.
Getting Ben into the saddle took patience and several tries. If they made it to his house without him falling off the horse, it would be a miracle.
The ride out of town was slow. The trek across the prairie even slower. Ben had bowed his head once the commotion of town was behind them. She was not sure if he had fallen asleep or just had nothing to say. If she were the betting kind, she would say it was the first.
The noonday sun was scorching and sweat rolled down Ben’s red face. She expected him to lean over and get sick at any moment, but they made it all the way home without him doing so.
Getting him out of his saddle was not pretty, and she winced when he hit the ground. He blinked up at her and instead of groaning in pain, he smiled. She imagined he was too drunk to feel much.
“Come on, Ben.” She tugged on his arm to help him up, her back aching before he got his feet under him. They staggered into the house, bumping into walls as she walked him to his room.
