Page 14 of The Rancher's Bride
“Tessa!” Ben called as he stepped onto the wooden porch of the small cabin.
The door swung open, and his sister emerged, her apron dusted with flour, a concerned look in her soft brown eyes. “Benjamin! What’s happened?” she asked, eyeing the unconscious stranger in his arms.
“She fell in the creek,” Ben grunted, stepping inside, his worn boots thudding against the wood planks laying on the floor. Tessa followed close behind, her brows furrowed in concern. She watched as Ben laid Bethany gently onto the worn settee near the fireplace. As he placed her down, he couldn’t help but steal a glance at her face. Damp, brown curls framed her delicate features, and even in her unconscious state, she seemed toradiate an ethereal beauty that left him breathless.
“She’s all wet,” Tessa censured.
“That’s what happens when you fall in the creek, Tess.” He dropped Bethany’s wet coat next to the fire to dry out and turned on his heel.
Tessa rushed to the settee; her hands fluttered uncertainly before pressing on Bethany’s pale forehead. “She’s cold as ice, Ben!” she cried, her voice rising with worry. “Do we need to call the doctor?”
Benjamin was already striding towards the woodstove in the opposite corner of the large room. The clatter of pots and pans echoed through the cabin as he searched for a kettle.
“The creek is too high.” He stopped for a minute. “What in tarnation would someone be doing out in this weather?” He shook his head and pointed to Tessa. “Find some blankets and some dry clothes. I’m going to heat some hot water. We don’t want her catching pneumonia.”
As Tessa did as she was told, Benjamin filled a kettle at the pump outside, his teeth gritted against the stiff wind that swept across the porch. His mind raced with a dozen concerns, but at its core was a single thought;he couldn’t let this woman die.
Stomping mud from his boots, he returned inside, placing the kettle on the stove. Tessa was crouched in front of the roaring fire, adding logs from the wooden crate nearby. The heat emanating from the flames enveloped Ben, making his clothes stick to his skin. Despite this, his gaze remained fixed on Bethany’s unmoving body across the room. He couldn’t bring himself to tear away and change into something more comfortable.
“I put some dry clothes on the table,” Tessa said. “You should probably get changed as well. I wouldn’t bathe her. Just dry heroff for now.”
“She’s cold.”
“Yes, but you don’t want her to stay wet. I’ll get her changed. Just help me get her boots off.”
Benjamin moved toward the settee, crouching down beside Tessa. He hesitated before reaching out and tugging on Bethany’s worn boots. As he pulled each one off, he placed them by the fire next to her soaking coat. He tried not to pay mind to the womanly curves that were revealed as he helped Tessa remove his long coat he had wrapped Bethany in. It felt all too intimate, this act of undressing a stranger, but he pushed away the discomfort, reminding himself this was about survival, not propriety.
Tessa carefully helped him move Bethany away from the wet sofa and towards a rug by the fire. “Surprisingly, the sofa isn’t as damp as I expected,” she noted as they settled the unconscious woman down on the rug. Tessa reached over and grabbed a soft linen sheet. “Go change,” she urged, her voice gentle but firm. Benjamin only nodded in response and disappeared into his bedroom.
He stripped off his wet clothes and replaced them with a fresh pair of trousers and a soft flannel shirt. He ran a hand through his unruly hair, attempting to tame it somewhat before returning to the living area. Once he changed into clean, dry clothes, he felt more at ease, more like himself. He remembered the emotions that were stirred in him when little Hope Davis went missing in the ravine. To see someone else fall victim to the same treacherous landscape stirred a protective instinct within him he couldn’t ignore.
The house was quiet, save for the crackling fire and the bubbling sound of the kettle on the stove. Tessa was still tending to Bethany when he returned to the main room.
She had changed her into a dry nightgown and was wrapping a warm blanket around her shivering body. Seeing Bethany laid out on the floor, pale and vulnerable, Benjamin felt a twinge of guilt for his earlier irritation.
He glanced at Tessa, her anxious eyes meeting his. “She’s feverish, Ben,” she said, her voice a mere whisper, as if afraid to disturb the silence of the room. Her small hand trembled lightly as she brushed stray curls away from Bethany’s forehead. “It could be the fire, but I don’t think it is.”
Ben sank to the floor near Bethany’s head and placed a cool hand against her forehead. She didn’t feel feverish under his hand. Gently lifting her head, he placed his hand against the back of her neck. She groaned and turned her head into his arm. He could feel her breath tickle the hairs along his arm.
“She’s just cold,” he reassured Tessa, but his own voice wavered with uncertainty. “We need to keep her warm and get some soup in her when she wakes.” He ran his fingers through her hair, gently untangling the knots and removing some of the mud still caked in her tresses. “We should rinse her hair, though.”
Glancing up, he saw Tessa staring at him with an unreadable expression. Ben dropped his hand quickly, a flush creeping up the back of his neck. His sister’s gaze remained focused on him, her eyes filled with an unnerving mix of worry and curiosity.
“You’re very gentle with her,” she finally murmured, her attention returning to the weak woman before them. “Never saw you like this with anyone, Ben.”
He frowned, his gaze wandering over Bethany’s frail body again. He swallowed hard against the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “I... I don’t know what you mean, Tess.”
Shrugging her thin shoulders, she added another log to thefire. Sitting back on her heels, she shook her head, casting him a sideways glance. “I just mean I’ve never seen you...care about someone. That’s all.”
“Tess—”
“No, it’s not a bad thing.” She quickly interrupted, casting a concerned look at their silent guest on the floor. “It’s a good thing, Ben. It’s rare to see you let your guard down.”
As much as Ben wanted to deny his sister’s words, he couldn’t ignore how they stung him. He always guarded himself, always careful to maintain his distance, but with this stranger in their home, something about her had slipped through his barriers. He looked down at her again, tracing the curve of her cheek with his eyes.
“Maybe I’m just glad she’s alive,” he mused aloud, his words more of a question than a statement.
Tessa added another log to the fire, her gaze lost in the dancing flames. “Yes... maybe,” she said softly, though from the way her voice sounded, it seemed like she didn’t quite believe him.
