to be, not by something used for squirrel hunting. “There are a lot of hunters here in the valley; they’ll have more suitable rifles for self-defense.”
She mentally worried at the situation. Obviously the dilemma was ammunition; they had to have enough ammunition to hunt, but if they didn’t defend the valley, hunting wouldn’t matter because they’d be dead. And if they defended the valley but then weren’t able to hunt and feed their families . . . If there was a solution, she didn’t know it. Ben would. She clasped her hands around the warmth of the mug and went for it. “If you could come down to the valley for a couple of hours, meet with some of the community leaders and give us some tips, maybe talk to this one guy—”
“No.” He didn’t let her finish, and she couldn’t see even a flicker of interest in his eyes. Despite living here the past few years he had no sense of community, no ties to the people in the valley. The only interactions he’d had, that she knew of, were with the Livingstons and herself—that and giving Mike Kilgore the same answer he’d just given her: No.
Until that moment she hadn’t realized how acutely she’d wanted him to say yes. She was holding herself together, barely, but scratch the surface and she was terrified that she’d do something wrong, not think of something crucial and get someone hurt or even killed. She needed his help . . . but what did he need? Nothing. He had everything here to make it through the crisis. All she could do was plead with him, because she had nothing to offer in barter.
An idea, a realization, blasted through her like an explosion. She had nothing he needed, but what about want?
Did she dare? She, who had never dared anything?
She was too self-aware to fool herself into thinking she could do this as a personal sacrifice for the good of the valley. The unvarnished truth was that she wanted Ben, sexually, in a way she’d never imagined she could want a man. She had never taken chances; her life was built around making the safest choice, not pushing, not demanding, not attracting attention. She thought he might be interested, but she’d never really gambled in the man/woman sweepstakes so she had no practical experience to guide her.
She knew she wasn’t a beauty queen but she was attractive enough, unless he required a woman with a voluptuous figure, which for sure wasn’t her. Carol said that deep down men weren’t picky, but Adam had somewhat disproved that theory because Sela knew he’d never been completely satisfied with her.
But that was Adam. This was Ben. And they were so far apart in terms of masculinity they might as well have belonged to different species. If Ben said yes, she would get what she wanted, which was him—and the valley would get his military expertise.
She could ask . . . or she could duck her head and quietly leave, backing away from challenge and risk the way she always had before. She had never reached out to take what she wanted.
She had never tried.
Her lips were numb. Her ears were buzzing. The challenge to be more than what she’d been, to risk not just something but her very self, was so overwhelming she thought her bones might buckle under the pressure. And yet she couldn’t just do nothing, not and live with herself. This wasn’t chickening out on a ski trip, this was a chance to have something with Ben. No matter what, she wanted that chance.
As if from a distance she heard her own voice, low and only a little shaky: “I’ll sleep with you if you’ll help us.”
His expression didn’t flicker. The words lay between them . . . or did they? Had she actually spoken? Was the offer only in her imagination?
Then he said, “I don’t know who that insults the most, you or me.” He paused. “No.”
That was it, just one word, and it was devastating.
It wasn’t only her lips that were numb now, she’d lost feeling in her entire body. The heavens didn’t blast apart, the floor didn’t open to swallow her up, no matter how much she wished it would. She had to sit there, exposed and humiliated, fighting to breathe through the crush of pain, of rejection.
If her heart was beating, she couldn’t feel it.
Slowly she managed to push to her feet, though she didn’t know how. She would