Love Somebody Like You (24 page)

As he sprinted out the door, her voice followed. “Aren't you going to put clothes on?”

“Waste of time. They're only gonna come off again.” A little water never hurt a guy.

The cool rain did, however, take care of his erection as he ran down the back steps and sprinted toward his trailer. The rough, muddy ground wasn't the easiest stuff to run on, not in bare feet. Especially when he passed out of the dim circles of light cast by the house and barn lights. It was almost pitch black by his trailer. But he made it, grabbed the box of condoms, and started back. As he neared the house, the ball of his right foot came down hard on a stone. “Shit, shit, shit.” He hopped around on one foot.

“Are you okay?”

Startled, he looked up to see Sally at the open bedroom window, naked in the pale golden light from the room.

“Yeah,” he called back, the pain forgotten as he dashed for the house.

By the time he made it up the back steps, she was on the deck. Out in the rain, still naked, she raised her arms and shimmied in a sensual dance. Like a woman under a tropical waterfall, not in a cool, Cariboo rainstorm. When he came up to her, she stopped dancing and grinned. “That was about the funniest sight I've ever seen, you naked in the rain, hopping around and cussing, hanging on to a box of condoms. I'm never going to forget it.”

He brushed wet curls back from her forehead even as more raindrops landed on her skin. “You dancing naked in the rain was about the prettiest sight I've ever seen, and you can bet I'll never forget it.” He circled his arms around her and moved close so the fronts of their bodies touched. Cool, rain-washed flesh quickly heated with the contact. “In fact, I'm never gonna forget a minute of tonight.”

“Me either.” She stared up at him, blinking against the rain. The outside light showed him that all traces of laughter had gone from her face. “Ben, you've made me whole.”

His heart melted, but before he could speak she went on. “I promise I will never let anyone break me again.”

“Aw, sweetheart.” It shattered his heart, thinking about how that man had hurt her. “I know you won't. And if anyone ever tries, you let me know. I'm guessing you're not prone to violence, but I have no qualms about throwing a punch when it's warranted.”

“Let's not even talk about violence, okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. Now let's go in before you catch a chill.”

“I bet you can warm me up.”

“I bet I can at that.”

She stepped back, out of his arms, and took the box from him. “I bet you can even warm me up in the rain.”

“Uh . . .” What did she mean?

She pulled out a wrapped condom and tossed the box into the shelter of the roof's overhang. “I've never been kissed in the rain.”

As she opened the wrapper, his erection grew. Sex in the rain? “Hey, sweetheart, when you said ‘try it all,' you really meant it.”

Her eyes danced. “Is that a complaint?”

“Never.” Laughing, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her as rivulets of rain dripped down both their faces.

 

 

Morning sun warmed Ben's face and he opened bleary eyes, squinting against the light. The sound of a long, loud yawn made him yawn reflexively and roll over in bed with a good morning smile. What a night it had been. Sally had wanted to do it all, try it all, and he'd done his best to oblige until sheer exhaustion sent them both to sleep.

His smile widened when he took her in, then he started to laugh.

Her eyes popped open. “What are you laughing at?”

“Sally, you will always be beautiful. But this morning you look a little, er, tousled.” Her uncombed curls had dried every which way, messed by his hands and her pillow. Her cheeks and chin were rosy with beard burn. She looked adorable and sexy.

He rubbed a hand across his stubbly jaw, then touched a gentle finger to her chin. “I shaved before I came over last night, I swear.”

She gave a humorous grimace. “You marked me?”

“'Fraid so.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Marks from pleasure. That's something new for me.” Another pause. “The demons are gone. We chased them away, Ben. I'm free.”

“That's something to celebrate. Want to give me a kiss and say good morning properly?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Two sets of morning breath? A fresh case of beard burn? Not to mention, I'm already going to be walking like I spent the night bull riding.”

“You sayin' I'm hung like a bull, little lady?” he said in a John Wayne drawl.

She gave a burble of laughter and put on a drawl of her own. “Pardner, I'm not touchin' that one with a ten-foot pole. No, wait, you're the one with the pole, though I'm not sure it's even ten inches.” Giggling, she climbed out of bed and yeah, she didn't exactly bounce out. It was more like the way he moved the morning after a rough fall.

“Want to measure it?” he challenged as she walked across the room with him admiring her shapely rear view.

“Later. Right now, I need a shower. And no, you're not joining me.” She went through the doorway, then peeked back around the frame. “Not this time. Tonight, though . . .” And she disappeared from sight.

Leaving him grinning his fool head off. Whistling despite the pain in his shoulder, which had been exacerbated by a night of bedroom acrobatics, he clambered out of bed and set about finding his clothes. How many hours until tonight?

And how many more tonights, he wondered a few minutes later as he made his way to his trailer and his own cramped shower.

Though the selfish part of him was glad Dusty's new heeler was no phenom, every rodeo Ben missed not only cost him money and standings, but cost Dusty as well. Ben roped with his right hand, using his left on the reins to guide Chaunce. His horse was a natural and the communication between the two of them was almost intuitive now, so Ben's left shoulder and arm didn't need to do much. Monique's adamance had kept him from driving to Peace River to compete this weekend, but for sure he'd be up for roping the weekend after—even if he had to hold off on bronc riding for a while longer.

Every other time he'd been sidelined by injury, he'd champed at the bit wanting to get back to rodeo. Now, he was torn. Life at Ryland Riding was pretty nice, and being with Sally—especially now that they were lovers—went way beyond nice. Too bad she'd settled down and had so many responsibilities. If she'd still been barrel racing, they could have had one mighty fine time riding the circuit together.

Instead, he'd soon be back doing what he loved, and she'd be here. Doing what she loved too, but by herself, working herself to exhaustion. That didn't sit well with him. Business was picking up: not only did she have Andrew and Terry, but in the past week she'd acquired two other new students and a new boarder. Sally had to find an assistant.

After he had dressed, Ben made coffee and had a quick breakfast. He filled his thermos with the rest of the coffee and got to work. When Sally arrived, he had a chestnut gelding in the cross ties, grooming it for the owner who'd soon be in for a prework ride. He smiled at Sally. “Do I get my good morning kiss now? Can I bribe you with some of the coffee you like?” He picked up the thermos he'd set on a bench and handed it to her.

“That's definitely worth a kiss.” She leaned in for a lingering one, then opened the thermos and took a swallow. “Mmm. This could be addictive.”

She went to the tack room and returned with the horse's saddle pad, saddle, and bridle.

As the two of them readied the horse, Ben said, “Why don't you get in touch with Corrie again? See if there's any chance you can sweet-talk her into coming back.”

“I don't feel right about asking, not when she's got some personal thing going on.”

“Being asked is flattering. What's wrong with letting her know what a great job she did and how you miss her? And how business is growing and you'd love to have her back. Maybe she's sorted out her personal issues by now. Maybe she thinks you've replaced her.”

“Hmm. That makes sense.”

“Do it now,” he urged. He wanted to know that Sally would have time to commune with her chickens, grow fresh vegetables, go riding just for pleasure, and build herself a social life.

And what about dating? Sharing her wonderful, generous body and heart with a man. Falling in love, getting married, and having children. He ground his teeth.

“Okay, okay,” she said. “Don't scowl at me.”

“I'm not—” All right, he was scowling, and he couldn't tell her the real reason: that he was jealous as hell of the man who would prove himself worthy of Sally and win her heart.

This was crazy. He'd never been possessive about any other woman he'd slept with.

He shoved that thought out of his mind as he bridled the horse, and then helped another owner with her horse. Andrew and Terry arrived next. In addition to taking one-hour lessons on Mondays, they'd also booked two-hour trail rides with Sally on Fridays.

After Sally and the men had ridden off, Ben cleaned the barn then tacked up Chaunce and did some work in the ring. He guided his horse this way and that, making quick turns and stops as he roped bales of hay and fence posts. Really, he hardly used his left shoulder—at least as long as nothing unexpected happened.

A blue minivan drove into the yard. There'd been no one listed on Sally's schedule until after lunch. Ben slid off Chaunce and left him inside the ring as a tall, black-haired woman dressed in jeans and a gray T-shirt jumped out of the driver's side. She went around to slide open the side door on the other side. A ramp came down and, as Ben approached, he saw she was helping a boy who was seated in a wheelchair up front on the passenger side. She unfastened whatever secured the chair in place, and the boy powered it backward, sideways, then carefully down the ramp, with the woman standing close by. The kid, who looked to be about eight or nine, was frail and had a mop of dark hair and wide, curious brown eyes. He was dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and sturdy shoes. Ben wondered what disability kept him in that chair.

“Hey there,” Ben greeted them. “Welcome to Ryland Riding.”

The woman held out her hand. “I'm Lark Cantrell and this is my son, Jayden.” She studied Ben's face. Recognizing his First Nations blood, he guessed, just as he saw the same in her light brown skin and strong features. She was fit and definitely had presence.

“Nice to meet you.” He shook her hand, not surprised that her grip was firm. “I'm Ben Traynor.” He extended his hand to the boy, who met it with a weak shake. “Hi, Jayden. How can I help you two?”

“Is Sally Ryland around?” the woman asked.

“Sorry, she's out with students. I'm her assistant.”

“I should have called, but Jayden and I were talking at breakfast and he got excited, so I took a half day off work and we took a chance.”

“She'll be back in less than half an hour if you want to wait. Or maybe I can help?”

“Jayden has cerebral palsy and he's keen on horses. Yesterday we met with his physiotherapist, Monique, and—”

“Monique Labelle? I see her, too. Sorry, please go on.”

“She says that therapeutic riding could be helpful for Jayden. There's no program around here, but Monique says Sally's been helping one of her other patients. We wondered if she'd be willing to work with Jayden, too.”

“I really want to ride,” the boy said. His speech was quick, the words slurring together a little, and his eyes were bright with excitement and hope.

Bringing the kid was a clever strategy. Who, much less a softhearted, child-loving person like Sally, could resist the boy's enthusiasm? “I'm afraid you will have to talk to Sally about that.” He didn't say that he was pretty sure she'd bend over backward to accommodate young Jayden. “Why don't you wait? I'll introduce you guys to my horse, Chauncey's Pride.” He gestured toward the ring.

“Are you a cowboy?” the boy asked.

“I'm a rodeo cowboy,” Ben told him.

“Cool!”

“And Chaunce is my roping horse.”

“He's pretty,” the boy said.

“He prefers ‘handsome,' but he'll appreciate the compliment.”

Lark gave a soft laugh. “Is he gentle? He won't hurt Jayden?”

“He's a gentleman and he loves kids.” Glancing at the rough dirt surface of the parking lot, Ben said, “I'm not sure how the chair's going to handle this ground.” He started to take off his sling. “May need to be pushed.”

“That's okay,” Lark said. “I'll do it. I'm plenty strong.”

“My mom's a frfr,” the boy said proudly.

“Sorry, I didn't quite catch that.”

He gave a frustrated scowl. Slowly, more clearly, he said, “Firefighter. She's the chief.”

“Really? Wow.” He glanced at the tall woman again, knowing better than to comment on her gender. “That's even cooler than being a rodeo cowboy.”

She flashed a smile. “Toss up, I'd say.”

Chapter Twenty-One

It was seven-thirty that night when Sally put a bowl of salad on the table on the deck and sat down with a sigh of relief. “I'm tired and starving.”

“Me, too.” Ben, who'd been manning her barbecue, came to join her, bringing three juicy burgers.

Unlike last Friday when they'd taken off early to go to dinner at Dave and Cassidy's, today she'd had a couple of new clients and the very welcome business had extended the workday. She and Ben had postponed their shared shower, to have a quick meal first.

As he took his usual chair across from her, she asked, “You don't mind about not going into town for dinner?” Earlier, he'd asked if she'd like to see if Heather could tend Ryland Riding so they could eat out.

As she dished out salad for them, he shook his head. “This works fine, too.” Under the table, his bare foot caressed the top of hers.

Arousal rippled through her, reminding her of why she'd turned down the dinner invitation. “I admit there's something appealing about the idea of putting on my one nice dress and sitting across from you in a fancy restaurant, having someone wait on us, and eating something I'd never cook at home.”

Ben put down his burger. “But?”

“Now that we've, uh . . . Now that we're . . .” Maybe she hadn't lost all her inhibitions last night. She ducked her head and started in on her own burger.

“Lovers?”

Lovers. She liked that term much better than “sex buddies” or “friends with benefits.” It sounded gentle, affectionate, almost romantic. Not that her relationship with Ben was a romance. In truth, they really
were
only friends with benefits—but he was such an amazing friend and the benefits went so much deeper than a few, albeit wonderful, orgasms. “It would be hard to act like we were just friends, and I'd rather not publicize our relationship.”

He drank a long, slow mouthful of beer. “As you said yesterday morning. Before we really became lovers.”

She nodded and sipped her own beer.

“You don't want people knowing you're sleeping with me.” There was a slight edge to his voice. Almost as if she'd hurt his feelings.

Probably she'd misread him, but she'd hate to hurt Ben so she said, “You can understand why someone like me, who's always been so private, wouldn't want to broadcast that I'm having this . . . fling, or whatever they'd think it is. Can't you?” She couldn't bear it if people saw her very special, very intimate relationship with Ben as a tawdry hook-up.

“Guess I can.” He bit into his burger. A minute or two later, he said, “One day you're gonna start dating again. Right?”

“I . . .” Would she? It was hard to imagine being with anyone other than Ben. But soon he'd be back to the rodeo life he loved. For years she'd believed that it wasn't her destiny to have a happy marriage and children, but now she was a different woman, thanks to him. “I suppose one day I might.”

“Not every guy's gonna want to keep the relationship behind closed doors.”

“No, I guess not.” If she was dating someone seriously, if they cared for and respected each other, there'd be no reason to hang on to her habit of privacy.

“When you find the right man”—he spoke slowly, deliberately—“you'll want to broadcast it to the world.”

Would she? Into her mind flashed an image of her and Ben, strolling the streets of Caribou Crossing holding hands. Feeding each other bites of dessert across a table. Slow dancing in the bar at the Wild Rose and sharing a kiss on the dance floor.

Ben. He was the man she'd be proud to be with. But only if their relationship was for the long term, which it wasn't. She had to be wary about letting herself care too much about this man who'd made her rediscover that being a woman could be a wonderful thing.

Would she ever find a man to love? If so, he'd have to be someone a lot like Ben.

“Sally?”

“What? Oh, broadcast it to the world? I suppose you're right.”

He rose. “I'm getting another beer. Want one?”

“No, thanks.”

While he was gone, she finished her burger and split the remaining salad between their two plates. When Ben sat down again, she chose a more comfortable subject. “It was interesting talking to Lark and Jayden this morning.”

“The kid's a charmer, isn't he?”

“Oh, man, you can say that again. Who could resist?” The boy was spunky, smart, and loved horses.

He chuckled. “I figured you'd take him on.”

“Lark's already scheduled a meeting for all of us with Monique.” It would be interesting to finally meet the physiotherapist she'd spoken to on the phone over the past months as they helped Amanda adjust to her prosthetic leg. “I'm looking forward to working with Jayden. I'm sure riding will help him.”

“It will.” He laughed again. “I'm remembering Robin Cousins spouting off about the benefits of learning new skills and connecting with horses.” His face sobered. “Those are two very different kids, aren't they? It must be a tough proposition, raising a child like Jayden.”

“He's totally worth it.” She'd happily have a child like Jayden.

“For sure.” Ben touched her bare forearm, his fingers a warm caress. “I'm just saying that special needs mean a big investment of money and time.”

She nodded and took a sip of beer. “And Lark's a single parent. Fortunately, they have financial assistance from a charity for kids with disabilities.”

“That's terrific.” Ben raised his hand to tweak a curl of hair off her cheek and tuck it behind her ear. He lingered to stroke her earlobe and her neck, sending delicious tingles rippling through her.

“New clients mean more work,” he said. “Have you heard back from Corrie?”

“Not yet.” Ben would be gone soon. What would she do without him? Not only without his help, but without his company? She gazed at him solemnly. “You looked good in the ring, roping on Chaunce.” When she'd returned with Terry and Andrew, Ben had been giving Jayden and Lark a demo, moving in graceful, athletic sync with his white-and-bay Paint. “How did your shoulder feel?”

“Not bad.”

“Uh-huh?” she said skeptically.

“It's healing. I don't need my left arm that much. Chaunce has all the right instincts and he's really responsive to my signals.”

“You're a team.” How well she remembered what that was like. “It's like you read each other's minds.”

“Exactly.”

Ben had his life and he needed to get back to it. For some reason—probably because he was such a good guy—he felt responsible for her. But he wasn't. She had to make him realize that. Needing to touch him, she ran her fingers lightly over the back of his hand.

“If Corrie doesn't come back,” he said, “and you can't find another assistant, I wonder if Heather might be interested in doing some stable work?”

“That's a good idea. I'll ask her.” She narrowed her eyes in a semi-serious warning glare. “And this is my problem, Ben. Having you help out is wonderful, but your life is on the rodeo circuit. I won't have you staying here out of some . . . chivalrous instinct.”

“Chivalrous?” He gave a quick laugh. “Sally, damn it, we're friends. We're lovers. I care about you. I don't want you working yourself to the bone.”

“Well, I care about you, too.” More than she should. “I'll find a solution.” With the pick-up in business, she could afford to pay a decent wage to a part-time person. Not a live-in again; not unless she could find another woman. But she felt more confident about dealing with men. She could imagine hiring a guy to come and put in some hours. One with excellent references and a compatible personality. Maybe older, semi-retired. Or maybe a gay man. “The ad I posted was for a full-time live-in, but I'll post another for part-time. There might be a local person who'd work a couple of hours a day, more on weekends. Even that much would be a big help.”

“Then start looking, okay? Tell your friends. Jess must know a bunch of horsey people.”

“Good idea,” she agreed. “I'll tell my students' parents, and the owners. Someone might know someone.” Someone had to, because she wouldn't hold Ben back. “You need to qualify for the CFR.” The Canadian Finals Rodeo was at the beginning of November. “And I'm sure you want to make as much as you can before the season ends.”

 

 

“Right.” Ben frowned down at his beer bottle, annoyed at the reminder that he wasn't in the same financial league as land and business owner Sally.

Rodeo was seasonal work unless you competed on the American circuit. That option was open to Canadians and he'd tried it back when he just rode broncs. But the costs and hassles—especially when you drove and toted your horse along with you—didn't make it worthwhile. So he stuck to Canadian rodeo and each year hoped to make enough to tide him through the off-season. Then whatever he earned working for the horse trainer was gravy.

Most years, it worked out. He had some money put away. Not a lot, though. He remembered what Dave Cousins had said, about how a goal motivated you. Ben's goal each year was winning at CFR, not saving to buy a ranch or start a horse training business.

He sure didn't have anything to offer Sally.

Her voice interrupted his musings. “I'll do the dishes then e-mail a few people and put the word out.”

“Good.” As he drained his beer, he wondered why he'd gone off on that weird train of thought. He had years to plan his second career, organize his finances, and find the right woman.

If there was another woman as special as Sally Ryland. . . .

“Can you do the barn chores?” she asked. “We'll be finished quicker. After all”—she rose, giving him a shy yet mischievous smile—“there's that shower waiting.”

The shared shower. A jolt of arousal brought him to his feet. Why the hell was he contemplating the future when he was with Sally now? Before long they'd be steaming up her bathroom—and then her bed. He circled her waist with his good arm. “Now that's an incentive.”

He kissed her. Only a taste, a promise of more to come. Then, whistling, he set off to do his chores.

He was cleaning tack when Sally came into the barn and headed for the office. She'd be sending those e-mails. He sure hoped they produced results, and soon.

A few minutes later, she dashed into the tack room. Her face was as bright and excited as he'd ever seen it. “Ben! Corrie's coming!”

He pulled her into a one-armed hug. “She wants to come back? Sweetheart, that's great.”

“It's wonderful.” She kissed him, a darting kiss on his mouth. “I can hardly believe it.”

“What did she say?”

“That she's been missing country life. That working here is what she really wants to do. She says she can be here next weekend. Isn't that perfect? That's likely when you'll be ready to go back on the circuit, isn't it?”

“You're right. Her timing's perfect.” Everything was working out and he was relieved. So why did he feel kind of flat, rather than sharing Sally's excitement? “She'll live here again?”

Sally nodded vigorously.

“So between her and Heather, you can get some time off now and then.”

“I can. And now I have a reason to take it. I don't want to live like a hermit any longer.”

“That's good, Sally.” He forced enthusiasm into his voice. It was more than good, it was great. Man, he was in a strange mood. “I'll get that deer and rabbit fencing up before I leave, so you and Corrie can have your garden to yourselves.”

“That would be wonderful. Oh, Ben, your coming here was the best thing that could ever have happened to me. In so many ways.”

He gave a half smile. “Thank your sister for that one.”

“I have, and I will again. We've been talking every day. But I thank you, too.” Again she stretched up to kiss him, and this time it was a slow, lingering kiss.

She drew back in the curve of his arm. “Where and when can you catch up with Dusty?”

“Next Saturday and Sunday, we're entered in the rodeo in Kennedy, Saskatchewan.” He and Dusty had discussed the possibility of Ben driving out to join him. Now, with Corrie coming that same weekend, Ben didn't need to worry about leaving Sally on her own. So why was he hesitating? “That'd mean leaving next Friday.” They'd have just under a week more together.

“Or Thursday. It's almost a twenty-four-hour drive, isn't it? You should break it up, overnight. Otherwise, even if you take frequent exercise breaks, it'll be a lot of strain on your shoulder and on your poor horse, standing in that trailer.”

“Guess you're right. And Mom would like it if I overnighted with them in Calgary. So she can see for herself that I'm all in one piece.”

“So you'll leave next Thursday,” Sally said softly. “That means we have almost a week.” She smiled, but the expression in her eyes seemed a little sad. The light in the barn was dim, so he couldn't be sure. Still, he hoped that she too had regrets about saying good-bye.

“We should make the most of that time.” His voice was gruff. He cleared his throat and tried to lighten things up. “Starting with that shower.”

Now he saw a spark in her eyes, and she wriggled her pelvis against his. “That sounds like an excellent place to start.”