The Rebellious Rancher - Kate Pearce Page 0,102

up, and guess who they wanted to talk to first? I remembered I had my mom’s address and they called her. Things got marginally better after that because her husband, Declan, made damned sure that the cops and the medics followed procedure. I was blood tested and came up clean. He also got me a hot-shit lawyer. They got statements from the hotel owner, various guests who’d seen me banging on the door for ages, and the takeout place where I’d waited for almost an hour for food. I still had the receipt in my pocket. The medics believed she’d died not long after I’d left the room.”

“Thank goodness for your mom and Declan,” Silver murmured.

“Yeah, because the Walkers wanted blood, and they did their very best to get me convicted of murder. When they couldn’t get the authorities to agree to prosecute the case, they tried to sue me personally.” He set his jaw. “We could’ve lost the ranch just in lawyer’s fees, but Declan stepped up and took care of everything. My dad never let me forget it.”

“Declan sounds like a good man.”

“He was. His only son died of a drug overdose so he knew all about addicts and he never ever made me feel like it was my fault.” He abruptly stopped talking and his throat worked. “But I still felt like it was—that I could’ve done something more.”

Silver scrambled out of her chair, almost falling in her haste, and rushed over to put her hands on his shoulders.

“Declan was right. Take it from someone who knows. You did everything you could for her. The only person who could’ve stopped her using was her.”

He gazed at her solemnly. “Everyone kept telling me that, but I kept thinking, what if I’d stayed with her? What if I’d called her parents and not walked out because I was so angry and scared for her? What if—”

He gulped and lurched forward, burying his face in her shoulder. She held him tight as his whole body convulsed and his tears flowed. She rocked him gently and told him over and over, “It’s not your fault, Ben. It’s not.” She smoothed his hair, her fingers curving into his curls. “She wouldn’t want you to feel like this. She loved you, right? She made some terrible choices but they were her own, and nothing to do with you.”

He finally raised his head. “But—”

“No buts.” She held his gaze. “She hid what she was doing because she knew at some level that what she was doing was wrong—that she was hurting those she loved, and she still couldn’t stop.” Now she was the one with tears pouring down her face. “I know how that goes. I hurt the people I loved so badly, Ben. I made them so afraid for me, and I’ll never make that right.”

It was his turn to comfort her and within seconds she was safely settled on his lap while he held her and kissed the top of her head.

Eventually she stopped crying and pushed the hair out of her eyes.

“Oh God. Way to make everything about me.”

“I think you needed to say that.” Ben stroked her cheek. “I’m glad you felt safe enough to say it in front of me and help me understand both sides a little better.”

“We’re a real pair, aren’t we?” She leaned against his chest and just appreciated the solid beat of his heart.

“Life and soul of the party,” Ben murmured, and she gave a watery chuckle.

“Maybe that’s why we like each other so much.”

“Because we make each other cry?” Ben asked.

“No, because we can cry in front of each other, and it’s okay.” She stroked his beard.

“My dad wasn’t a big believer in tears.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Silver said. “Neither was mine. From the first time I acted in a commercial when I was a baby I was always supposed to look happy.”

“I like you when you get mad.” Ben kissed her reddened nose. “You keep me honest.”

“Right back at you.” Her breath shuddered out and she allowed herself to relax against him. She didn’t ever want to move again. She felt more at home with him in his almost-empty cabin than she did in her L.A. house.

Eventually, he stirred. “Do you want to come to bed, or do you need to be somewhere else?”

“You’d like me to stay?” Silver asked carefully.

He shrugged. “You’ve seen me cry. I can’t ever let you out of here, so you’d better get comfortable.” He gestured at the bathroom. “I’m

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