Dusty’s bark alerted Ben to Ashley’s arrival shortly after one o’clock. He walked away from the chicken coop where he’d finished a few modifications in preparation for the chickens he planned to buy soon. But he stopped before he got too close to her truck, sensing it was better to let her make the first move. At last, the truck door swung open, and Ashley dropped to the ground. When she stepped into view, she found Ben with her eyes and sent him a quick smile that faded almost at once.
It was clear the morning hadn’t gone well.
Drawing a breath, he returned her brief smile and gave her a short wave. That seemed to be enough to put her in motion. She walked toward him, stopping about three yards away. “Sorry I’m so late.”
“Not a problem.”
“It’s not the sort of employee I mean to be.”
“I didn’t think it was. Life happens. To all of us.”
She nodded, her gaze dropping to the ground for a few moments.
Despite having guessed the answer, he asked, “How did it go?”
“About as expected. No bail. He has a public defender.”
“What was his plea?”
“Not guilty.”
Ben nodded.
“Which everyone knows is a lie.”
“It’s standard procedure, from what I understand. Now they’ll start negotiating a deal with the DA, trying to get lesser charges, maybe less jail time.”
“Oh, Ben.” She seemed to crumple from the inside out.
He reached her in two strides, gathering her in his arms, pressing her close to his chest. She turned her face against his shirt and wept, sobs torn from some place primal. His heart broke at the sound. “I’m sorry, Ashley.” He pressed his cheek against the top of her head. “I’m so sorry.”
Her fingers gripped his shirt.
“Shhh.” He moved his head, allowing his mouth to brush across her hair. He caught a whiff of her fruit-scented shampoo. He’d give just about anything to help stop her pain. Just about anything.
“Ben,” she whispered, drawing her head back to look up at him.
Kissing her in that moment was as natural as breathing, and Ben thought he could have stood there forever, holding her close, his mouth upon hers, drinking in her sweetness. He wished he could stay forever. The longer he kissed her, the longer he could avoid the harder conversation that awaited them.
But, of course, the time arrived when he had to break the kiss and withdraw. Not far. Only far enough that the two of them could look at each other. A mixture of emotions swirled in her beautiful eyes. Turquoise colored, he realized. More green than blue, and yet not truly green. Her dark lashes were thick. How had he not realized before how beautiful she was?
“I’ve wanted to do that for weeks.” Strangely, he hadn’t known it until he said it.
A smile flickered at the corners of her mouth, although a touch of sadness lingered in her eyes. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Complicated. Right?”
“Ben, I like you. But I’m not sure—”
“We won’t know unless we try.”
“The timing is bad.”
Knowing what he needed to tell her, he said, “You’re right. It’s bad timing. In fact, we should talk. Let’s go sit down.”
“Okay.” Her expression changed to one of bemusement.
On the porch, they settled onto a couple of chairs.
Ashley flipped her hair over her shoulder, leaned back, and released a sigh. “Sorry for breaking down like that.”
“You’ve been staying strong for your mom. Something has to give every once in a while.”
“You had a unique way of making me forget it for a minute or two.” There was that sad-sweet smile of hers again.
Oh, how he would prefer to take her in his arms again and kiss her until they both forgot everything else. He thought she might want that too. But he couldn’t give in to that desire.
“Ashley, I need you to know what happened on Friday night.”
The smile vanished as she squared her shoulders, as if bracing for the worst. “All right.”
“When your brother broke into the church, he was completely wasted. To the point of passing out. Trent didn’t really stop the robbery. He just got there in time to see Dylan collapse in mid-progress. Trent saw how bad off your brother was, and he called me for help. Dylan was still unconscious when I got there. I asked Trent if he’d called the cops. He hadn’t, and I told him he should.” He hesitated to see if this would get any reaction beyond her immediate nod. It didn’t. Apparently, she wasn’t bothered that he was the one who’d set Dylan’s arrest in motion. That was something. “It was while we were waiting for the police that I learned his name was Dylan and began to suspect who he was.”
She pushed loose strands of hair away from her face. “Why is it important that you tell me all of that?”
“I guess it isn’t. But what is important is why Trent called me to help with your brother.”
“You’re the pastor’s friend.” She shrugged. “I get it.”
“It’s more than that, Ashley. It’s because I’ve done a lot of work with guys like Dylan. Recovery work.”
This caused her eyebrows to arch. “You have?”
“I have.”
“Why?”
“For lots of reasons.” He drew in a breath and pressed on. “One is that it helped keep me focused on my own sobriety.”
She paled. “Your what?”
“My recovery. I was like your brother for a lot of years, Ashley. I started drinking as a teenager, and my life spiraled out of control until I finally reached the point of admitting I was an alcoholic. It was Jesus who turned my life around. Faith in Jesus, working the steps of recovery, and the love of my grandparents got me sober. Ever since I’ve done what I could to help others find it too.”
“You aren’t anything like Dylan,” she whispered.
“Maybe not today.” He reached as if to touch her shoulder.
She drew back from him.
* * *
There was a buzzing in Ashley’s ears that made it hard to concentrate. Or maybe she simply couldn’t believe what Ben had said. He’d worked with guys like Dylan to help keep his own sobriety. He was an alcoholic or had been an alcoholic or something like that.
Did he lie to me? No, but he fooled me. Somehow. Somehow he fooled me.
She rubbed her forehead with the pads of her fingers. She’d quit her job. Her secure but low-paying job. She’d quit to go to work for Ben Henning, and now he’d told her he used to have a drinking problem, that he’d worked with people like her brother to help keep himself sober. In other words, he might not stay sober. He could fall off the wagon. Just like her brother had done time and again.
“I’d like to help Dylan,” Ben said, as if he’d read her thoughts, “if there’s any way that I can.”
“He’ll be in prison.”
“If he is, he’ll need help there too.”
She rose from her chair, holding up a hand between them. “Don’t say anything else. I need to . . . I need to think.”
She walked off the porch and headed for the paddocks. Paisley, the black-and-white paint, was the first horse she came to. She looked the gelding in the eyes, then buried her face against his neck. Why had she let Ben kiss her like that? Why had her heart thrummed in response? He was supposed to be a friend. Only a friend.
“I’ve wanted to do that for weeks.” His voice whispered in her memory, causing her pulse to race again.
No. No. No. She wouldn’t fall under his spell. He’d fooled her, making him the same as Paul. He’d manipulated her, making him the same as Dylan.
Be fair. It isn’t the same. Look at Ben. Look at his life. Look at the way he lives now. The rest is in the past.
She drew in a deep breath. Was addiction ever in the past? Even he had said working with others helped in his own recovery. Did she dare trust him?
Paisley snorted and bobbed his head.
Ashley drew back and moved to look the horse in the eyes again. “I’m working for him as of today. He’s given me a chance to do what I want to do. It’s a step in the right direction for my future. But it won’t become anything else. It can’t be personal.” She brushed her lips with her fingertips. “That was the absolute last time he’ll kiss me. He’ll have to understand that. I’ll make sure that he does.”