As she looked down at the boy, she didn't know her eyes were dark with loneliness, her expression compassionate. Ben went still with surprise, his breath catching in his throat. Adeline Warner had always been a pretty girl, with too much spirit and not enough heart. Sassy, selfish, sharp-tongued-a girl like that was someone to avoid. But just now her face was soft and heart-stirring in a way it had never been before. What had happened to give her this new air of vulnerability? What magic had brought such mystifying sweetness to her face? Had it been there all the time? Was he just beginning to notice something everyone else had long been aware of?
Russell walked up behind Addie, looking over her handiwork. He seemed to be puzzled by what she had done. "Where did you learn to close up a wound like that?" he barked.
Ben watched as the question caused Addie's cheeks to color.
"It's not much different from regular needlework," she said with a half-smile. "Just messier. What about his side? Is it still bleeding?"
"Not much. The temporary dressing will do until we can get him back to the bunkhouse. "
"Good." Addie glanced down at herself and saw the blood on both her sleeves, causing the material to cling stickily to her arms. The sweet, warm smell of it drifted to her nostrils, combining with the heat of the sun to overcome her with a wave of nausea. As she looked away, she caught sight of the steer and couldn't help remembering the thudding crack of the rifle against its skull. Afraid she might throw up, Addie grimaced shakily and struggled to her feet without asking for help. "Excuse me," she whispered, and walked away, breathing deeply and clenching her fists. She stopped when she reached Jessie, leaning against the horse's side and resting her forehead against the saddle. Concentrating on the musky scent of leather, she stayed very still. After a minute had passed, the contents of her stomach began to settle down.
She heard Ben's quiet voice behind her. "Here." He had gotten a clean handkerchief and a canteen of water from somewhere. She turned her face to watch him blankly as he dampened the cloth. She even suffered his touch without protest as he reached out to wipe her face, her eyes closing as she felt the cool cloth slide over her cheeks and eyebrows.
"Why are you doing that? Is there something on my face? What is it?"
"Just dust. Hold out your hands."
She stared down at the brownish bloodstains in the crevices between her fingers. “Oh, I-"
"Spread your fingers." The corner of the handkerchief erased every last spot on her hands. Why was he being so considerate?
"Thank you."
He offered the canteen to her. "Water?"
Gratefully she nodded, taking it in both hands and tilting her head back as the liquid slid down her throat. After handing it back, she looked at him uncertainly. "Thank you," she repeated, a question in her eyes.
He smiled at her, causing her heart to miss a beat. "You smell like a dance-hall hostess."
She chuckled a little breathlessly. "I spilled as much of that whiskey on you as I did on me."
"I'll give you your due. Your work was good. Although I'd have bet two bits beforehand that you wouldn't have been able to do it. I'm beginning to wonder how many more surprises I should expect from you, Adeline."
"Addie." The correction came out before she could stop herself.
"Addie," he repeated huskily. "That what you were called in school?"
"Kind of."
"You okay now?"
"Yes."
"You should go back to the house. It's too hot out here for you. "
She didn't know what to do when he was being nice to her. "I guess I will."
His eyes moved over her face. He seemed to be on the verge of asking her a question, but something impelled him to keep silent, and he left her.
Addie dipped her bare toes in the stream, relishing the coolness of the rushing water. The hem of her skirt was getting damp, but prudently she tried to keep as much of her legs covered as possible. "Shame on you," she said, casting a wicked glance at Jeff. "I'd swear I just caught you looking at my ankles. "
"You have beautiful ankles. The most beautiful I've ever seen." He slid his arm around her shoulders and turned her to face him. A hot kiss was pressed into the hollow of her throat, causing her to squirm in protest. "And the most beautiful toes, and heels-"
"Oh, stop it." Addie giggled and twisted away from him. "And don't hold me so tight. It's too hot."
Jeff loosened his arms, scowling in a way that made her want to laugh. She was fond of him, but at times he tried her patience sorely.
Addie had learned to treat Jeff with the same kind of affectionate mockery she used for Cade. She'd hoped to cool Jeff down, guessing that his feeling for her was not the love of a mature man for a woman but a boy's perverse love for something he knew was beyond his reach. Unfortunately her efforts to put distance between them were only making him want her more.
There were moments when she was charmed by him, moments when he was boyish and sweet, and almost embarrassed by his own gentleness with her. It was then that she was happiest in his company. She needed a friend, and he was the closest thing to a confidant she had.
As to the physical side of their relationship, it wasn't difficult to handle him. She had no desire to make love with him, and when he" tried to coerce her into it, she set him back with a coolness that infuriated him. It wasn't that Jeff didn't attract her. But Addie didn't want real intimacy with him. Something warned her that it would be a terrible mistake, and an instinct that strong must be obeyed.
There was an arrogant side of Jeff that bothered Addie. He liked to boast about his family's money and his father's influence, and she believed a man should stand on his own two feet, not ride on someone else's coattails. And Jeff seemed so ridiculously young when he swaggered. Like a child, he was demanding and relentless about what he wanted, and he sulked if he didn't get his way.
It was amazing, the difference between Jeff and Ben Hunter. They were complete opposites. Jeff was boyish, outspoken, easy to understand. Ben was a man no woman could ever hope to understand, more complex than any man she'd ever met. In a subtle way he seemed removed from everyone, even while he was arguing with Russell, charming May and Caro, or exchanging tall tales with the ranch hands. He seemed to be fond of Russell, but it was clear Ben didn't need anyone. What had happened to make him so independent? Was there anyone he really cared about?
What a mystery he was, attractive and repellent, charming and cold, gentle and harsh. In her heart of hearts she was afraid of him, not merely because of what he would do to Russell, but for an even deeper reason. He made her aware of herself as a woman in a way no one had before. He could do it with a look, a gesture… he cast some kind of spell over her merely by being in the same room. And the strangest thing was, she knew he didn't do it consciously. There was some kind of invisible current between them, and she didn't know how to explain it. How could you fight something you didn't understand?
"Adeline…" Jeff's wheedling voice broke into her thoughts. "Why are you so far away? Did I do somethin' to get your dander up?"
"Of course you didn't." She looked at him and smiled. "I'd tell you if you did something to make me mad."
"No, you wouldn't. Women don't tell stuff like that.
They like to turn all cold and quiet and make you guess what you did to get 'em mad."
"Most men have the most interesting theories about women. Women are helpless, women don't have much sense, women are neither honest nor straightforward, and really don't know their own minds anyway… honestly, I think one of you men should write a book. "