Rocky Mountain Redemption. Pamela Nissen
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was painfully apparent that she needed help.
And it was no secret that he desperately needed an assistant. But was he willing to hire a young woman he had a deep interwoven history with, yet, until a few hours ago, had never even met?
Ben quietly crossed to the bedroom’s lace-draped window and peered outside through the cloudy panes. The snow had finally tapered off to a light dusting of flurries that glistened like tiny diamond chips in the morning sun. He squinted against the stark brightness, his eyelids drooping over his eyes, weighted by fatigue and by the bright glare spilling into the room.
Kneading his forehead, his thoughts strayed to the past seven years. They’d tracked Max down several times, finding him in saloons, slouched at gaming tables like some permanent fixture. Though Ben had never met Callie—didn’t even know her name—Max had lamented about how he’d needed to play the tables to keep his demanding little woman clothed in finery and frills.
Turning to glimpse the bleak condition of her ragged dress and threadbare cloak, he couldn’t imagine that anything of the sort had been true.
Remorse regarding Max hovered over him like a coffin lid suspended, just inches from closing. He’d done his best to set Max’s feet on the straight and narrow, but Max had given the term maverick a whole new meaning, dodging responsibility at every turn, thumbing his nose at right living and common sense, and bucking hard against anyone who tried to bridle him. He was nothing like the rest of the Drake boys, and for that Ben felt a guilt-laden weight of responsibility.
Ben had promised his folks before they passed on that he’d see to his brothers. Make sure they turned out to be the fine, upstanding men his parents had intended.
Moving over to the bed, he refreshed the compress at Callie’s chest, praying that it would ease her deep cough.
When she stirred then dragged in a ragged breath in her sleep, he was grateful to see that it didn’t catch on another cough. With attentive medical care, she might just be all right. The idea of any other outcome made his throat go instantly tight. There was something vulnerable hidden behind the inflexible front she’d worn that begged for release, and he couldn’t ignore the strange desire he felt to be her liberator.
“You’re going to do what?” Aaron protested, his voice likely cutting through the closed door to where he’d just peeked in at Callie.
“Keep your voice down.” Ben shot his brother a glower of warning then tugged him farther into the waiting area. “I said, I’m thinking about giving her a job as a cook and housekeeper.”
He glanced at the second-oldest brother, Joseph, whose brow creased in an unmistakable, disagreeing frown over his sightless eyes.
His brothers’ forthright responses contrasted dramatically with the quiet, solemn grief they’d shown an hour ago when’d he’d broken the news of Max’s death. There were plenty of regrets to be had regarding Max. The tension-filled years preceding his disappearance. The betrayal prompting his leaving. And the futile times when Ben and Joseph had tried to coax Max home.
All the years growing up hadn’t been that way, however. There’d been good times, when all five of them had roamed the backyard on stick horses, as though the ground yawned like some wide-open range. When they’d worked together with their father to build houses for the steady stream of settlers moving West. When they’d hunkered down in eager anticipation of Christmas morning.
Those fond memories made it almost impossible to imagine Max dead. With nothing of his brother’s life left to redeem, Ben was left feeling helpless.
“A cook and housekeeper?” Aaron’s eyes widened.
“You want me to throw her out?” Ben queried, irritated.
Aaron splayed his hands in an it’s-not-my-problem kind of gesture. “It’s your call, but the whole thing sounds fishy to me. I mean, her showing up here in the middle of the worst October snowstorm I can remember, and then asking for a job? There’s gotta be a good reason for that kind of behavior. If that’s not fishy, I don’t know what is.”
“What other information did you get out of her, anyway?” Joseph inquired.
“Not much. She isn’t very talkative.” Ben’s admission rankled a little, especially as he remembered how stubborn and evasive she’d been. “She’s pretty sick. In fact, we need to make this brief so I can get back in there to see to her.”
“If it were me, I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her.” Aaron’s sure look altered to an instant frown. “Well, maybe not, seeing as how she’s such a tiny thing.” He nudged Joseph’s arm and whispered conspiratorially. “As small as she is, Joe-boy, a fella could fit her into his coat pocket.”
Relishing descriptions, however lame, Joseph grinned at Aaron’s remark.
“You’re all talk, Aaron,” Ben dismissed. “You couldn’t turn your back on her either, and you know it.”
“So, what if you’re wrong about her?” Aaron folded his arms at his chest. “If I were you, I’d get that locket from her before she takes off with it.”
“She already tried to give it back to me.”
“Well, then…” Aaron held out his hand. “Why don’t you have it?”
Ben met his disbelieving gaze. “I didn’t have the heart.”
“Oh, for the love of—”
“Go easy, Aaron,” Joseph cautioned. “You never know how hard something is until you walk it yourself.”
“I’m not arguing that. It’s just that Max pulled the wool over Ben’s eyes more than once,” Aaron responded then turned to Ben. “And I think we all know that he left because of this woman.”
With a tentative shake of his head, Ben raked a hand through his hair. “That might be what he said, but how do we know it’s true? How can you judge her, if you haven’t met her?”
“Facts are facts, Ben. And it was as clear as a mountain stream that Max got in with the wrong crowd,” Aaron bit off, his jaw tensing. “He always was wild on the vine. I just never thought he’d go so far as to steal from his own kin then walk away without ever looking back. If you ask me, I’d say that little lady in there had to have played a part.”
Ben peered down at the box Callie had brought. He hadn’t wanted to take it from her room, and sure wasn’t about to look inside at the contents, but he had to know if it was the box Joseph had made for Max years ago. That would be just another point of proof in her favor. “I know it doesn’t make sense. And I can’t say as I trust her, but—”
“I’d be disappointed if you did.” Aaron snorted. “I wouldn’t put it past some young, sickly thing sent by Max, to try and con you out of money.”
Joseph shifted his long cane from one hand to the other. “Knowing how hard it was for you to come to grips with the way Max took advantage of you, I’m not sure why you’d want to take that risk again.”
“I’ll admit, I’ve been wrong a time or two.” Aaron took the box from Ben. “But the lady came here with this one box and the locket. Lord knows she could be lying through her teeth about being married to Max—even about him dying.”
“Why would she lie about something like that?” Ben asked.
“I don’t know. Why would Max steal from his own brothers? And, when he was sloppy drunk and barely able to stand, kiss my girl?” Aaron’s jaw ticked. “People with no conscience do the unthinkable.”
“Just take some time to think this over.” Joseph grasped Ben’s shoulder. “Don’t make any rash decisions.”
“Why you’d want her workin’ for you, I’ll never know.” Aaron scuffed over to a rounded-back chair and plopped down.
“Believe me, I wondered the same thing, too—when