Unexpected Opportunity
Chapter 6
by
Layne Richards

Was he leaving? Just like that? Oh, God, she hoped not! The day of his going was approaching fast enough. Please don't let him leave early!
What was wrong? What had she done? Had she insulted him in some way by refusing to take payment from him? Her ma and pa had helped people many times with food and shelter when it was needed. They'd never asked for money, never taken any. Always said you should never turn away anyone in need.
All afternoon, Lacey sat on the front porch, waiting for Ben to come back. Afraid he wouldn't. And praying.
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Ben Wade rode Ribbon long and hard. They slowed when his anger began to ebb. Finally, they stopped beside the creek to allow both horse and man to drink.
What the hell had gotten into him, he wondered. He never allowed himself to lose control like that. It was dangerous to lose control of any situation. He'd taught himself not to over long years.
This whole situation was just one that he didn't understand. People who truly cared about others didn't exist in Ben Wade's world. Even the preacher who had run the orphanage where he was taken after his mother had abandoned him had gotten something out of the children for whom he cared. Work.
Wade thought back to those days in that orphanage. After three days in the train station without his mother coming back, the ticket agent had notified the town sheriff. The sheriff had sat down beside him on the bench in the station.
"What's your name, son?" he had asked, not unkindly.
"Ben," he had answered shortly, clutching the bible in his hands to his chest.
"What are you doing here alone so long Ben?"
"My ma went to get our tickets."
"The ticket agent says you've been sitting here alone for three days. I hate to tell you this son, but it don't take that long to buy train tickets."
Ben didn't know what to say. He wished the sheriff would stop calling him son. His own pa had never called him son. He sure didn't want some stranger doing it.
"Son, we're gonna have to take you somewhere where you can be fed and looked after." The sheriff was speaking to him again.
"Where?" Ben eyed the man suspiciously.
"Well, a few miles outside town there's a preacher runs a place for kids-"
"You mean the orphanage, don't you?" Eight-year-old Ben's eyes and his voice were cold.
"Well yes, son."
"Quit calling me son! I ain't your son!"
"I'm sorry, Ben," the sheriff said quietly, feeling sorry for the boy. "It's just until your ma comes back for you."
"You think I'm a fool?" The boy's blue eyes were like ice, and his voice was even colder. The sheriff had a sudden vision of what the man would be like, and it almost made him shiver.
"She ain't comin' back. Ever. Even I know that."
"All the more reason to take you to someone who'll take care of you. What do you say?" the sheriff asked him calmly.
"I got any choice?" Ben asked, still cold.
No, he hadn't had any choice. The sheriff had brought a wagon and driven little Ben Wade out to the church with the big, white farmhouse beside it. He'd spent six years in that orphanage, before he'd stolen the preacher's money and left for Dodge City at the age of fourteen. He hadn't looked back since.
He'd quickly learned to charm people and to use them--to discover their weaknesses and exploit them. Everyone had a weakness and, once you found it, they were yours. It was how he'd lived his entire life, and he'd always come out on top. No one had ever given him anything. He'd taken everything he ever needed or wanted. Money, women. He'd always been able to figure people out.
Women, especially, were not immune to his charm. He was handsome and he flirted with them outrageously. He wanted one thing from women and he couldn't remember a time, since he turned fourteen, that he hadn't gotten it.
But now, as his mind touched on the many women he'd known, he realized that there hadn't been a single one who'd really been what most people called a respectable woman--the kind of woman men usually courted and married. Saloon girls, barmaids, singers, whores. There was nothing wrong with that type of woman. They just weren't the kind of woman a man usually thought about settling down with.
Lacey Miller was. Hell, she'd already be settled down if he and his gang hadn't robbed the coach her fiance had been guarding. If his life had turned out differently, would he have settled down by now? Had a ranch of his own, with a wife and some kids?
Once again, he caught himself. What the hell was getting into him? He'd had that same passing thought twice in the same day now! For the first time he could remember, Ben Wade was a little nervous. And about what? A woman, of all things! If Jim Greer were around, he'd be laughing his ass off right now.
Ribbon nickered at him softly. Surprisingly, Ben noticed that dusk was approaching. He'd been riding around and thinking for hours. Ribbon was getting hungry.
"Time for supper, huh? I'm gettin' a little hungry myself," Ben told him. Damn all this worry about women! There wasn't a one of 'em on earth that was worth it.
He turned the horse back in the direction of Lacey's house. He wondered what she'd cooked. One thing about her kind of woman was that she'd have a meal made if it was mealtime.
By the time the house came into sight, it was full dark. Full dark, and there was no light inside the house. Always on the lookout for trouble, Ben drew his pistol. He left Ribbon by the barn and made his way quietly to the house, watching and listening for the slightest sound.
Just as he reached the steps, lamplight shone suddenly through the window beside the front door. Flattening himself against the wall, Ben peered through the window. He saw no one except Lacey. Of course, that didn't mean no one else was there. Ben waited a moment, listening for other voices, other sounds. Nothing.
The Hand of God drawn and at the ready, he pushed open the door. Lacey half rose from the table with a gasp.
"Oh, thank God! It's you, Ben! Are you all right? I've been so worried!"
Ben's eyes took in the entire room and the open bedroom door. He saw nothing out of the ordinary.
"Lacey? You all right?"
"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" She looked puzzled.
"I rode up, didn't see a light, and-" His eyes still scanning, he finally took in Lacey's face. It was pink and tear-streaked.
"You been cryin', darlin'. Why?" Smoothly, he holstered the pistol and moved to stand in front of her. Once again, those piercing blue eyes looked right into her.
She dropped her eyes to the floor, fighting back further tears. He'd stormed out of here angry, without even telling her why he was angry. She'd be damned if she would let hims see exactly how hurt she was!
Ben reached out and tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. What he saw in her eyes was something he had never expected to see in a woman's eyes. Worry. For him?
It surprised him. No woman had ever worried about what happened to him before. Not even Emmy back in Bisbee when he'd been caught right after coming out of her room. She'd seen them handcuff him, heard that they were taking him to Yuma to hang. Had followed him all the way to the marshal's coach, but he'd never seen her look worried.
"I thought you'd left," Lacey told him simply, those threatening tears beginning to flow again, despite her best efforts.
"And then, I was afraid maybe something had happened to you. That your wounds had reopened or-" She trailed away weakly.
His eyes never releasing hers, Ben framed her face in both his hands. He wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. "I'm here. And I'm all right."
Her arms went around his neck and she pressed her face into his shoulder, hugging him tightly. "I'm so glad you're here."
He returned the hug, stroking her back with his hand, kissing her temple and then laying his cheek against her soft brown hair.
"So am I, sweetheart. So am I."
"Now-" He held her away from him at arm's length. "You got any whiskey in this house?"
"Yes," Lacey replied, feeling confused. She got a bottle and a shot glass from the cupboard and put them on the table.
Ben opened the bottle and poured the shot glass full. "You sit down here and drink this. It'll help you relax. I've got to go unsaddle Ribbon and put him away for the night."
"I'll fix you some supper." She started toward the stove.
"That's okay," he told her. "I'm not hungry." He held up his hand, seeing her about to protest. "Honestly, Lacey. I just don't want anythin' right now."
"You drink this." He held up the glass.
"I- I've never drunk whiskey," she confessed to him. "Pa takes a drink every once in awhile, but I've never even tasted it."
There was an amused look in his beautiful eyes. "Well, then, you might wanna take very small sips."
Lacey lifted the shot glass and cautiously took a sip from it. Her eyes widened and she coughed. Hard.
He chuckled at her. "You better sit down and go easy on that stuff, darlin'. I'll be back fast as I can."
Out in the barn, Ben hurried through removing Ribbon's saddle and feeding and watering him for the night. "Ribbon," he said, as he poured oats into the feed box. "If I didn't know better, I'd say this woman really seems to care somethin' about me. 'Course, she still don't know my last name's Wade. You reckon I should tell her?"
Ribbon whinnied softly to him.
"Nah. Me neither. Not tonight, anyway."
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In the house, Lacey had washed her face and brushed her hair and was sitting at the table, dutifully taking small sips from the shot glass. "How on earth could anyone actually like drinking this stuff?" she wondered aloud.
Every sip almost took her breath away for a minute. But she was starting to feel more relaxed. That, at least, felt good. She'd been so sure she was never going to see Ben again. That, for whatever reason, he had gotten angry and just decided to go home. Back to his own ranch.
When had he become so important to her? How had he become so important to her in such a short amount of time? He'd been here three days now. He'd been teasing and flirtatious with her right from the beginnng, but how did something like that turn into love so quickly?
Love. Had she even thought that word? This whiskey must be getting to her.
Just then, the door opened. Lacey looked up and met Ben's eyes. The look he saw in hers told Ben everything he wanted to know.
He turned, closed the door and latched it, then walked to the table. She had finished three quarters of the whiskey in the little glass.
"Not bad," he told her. " 'Specially for someone who's never had whiskey before. You feelin' better now?"
"I don't know about better." She laughed a little. "But definitely calmer!"
"That's good." Ben reached out to take the glass from her. He refilled it and tossed the whiskey back easily in one gulp.
"How on earth do you do that?" Lacey asked, fascinated.
"Years of practice," he chuckled.
His eyes turned serious again. Serious and very warm, as they held hers.
"Come her, sweetheart." He spoke softly and deliberately, holding one hand out to her.
The warmth in his eyes and his voice affected her more than the whiskey. She rose from her chair, heart racing, and went to him. He took her hand and drew her closer, until no more than a foot of space separated them.
Lightly, he brushed the hair from her forehead with his fingertips. His lips pressed lightly against her temple. Then he lifted her face to his. Holding her gaze, he whispered, "You're tremblin'. I won't hurt you, darlin'."
"I know," Lacey whispered back. "I trust you."
Trust. He almost laughed at that. Someone trusted Ben Wade.
He kissed her, taking first her top lip and then her bottom, before plundering her mouth with his tongue. She returned his kiss awkwardly, but sweetly and passionately.
Ben drew a little away from her then. Holding her hand tightly, he reached for the lamp with his other hand. As he lifted it, he watched the shadows move across Lacey's face. She was beautiful.
His eyes still holding hers, he said softly, "Come to bed, Lacey."
He was delighted that she went with him willingly, without a second's hesitation.
TBC