Page 15 of The Rancher's Bride
He couldn’t blame her, as he was finding it hard to believe himself. The kettle on the stove was reaching its boiling point, generating a mellow simmer that traveled across the room.
“Did you take your medicine today?”
She glanced up at him. “Did you find my goats?”
Ben’s lips twitched at the side. “No. I had other things going on at the ravine.”
Tessa smirked. “No, I didn’t take it today. I forgot.”
“I’ll make you some tea, and then I’ll prepare some soup for when Bethany wakes up.”
“Is that her name?”
“Bethany?” Ben nodded.
“How do you know her?”
“She was here when that little girl got lost.”
“I remember that. What do we do now, Ben?” she asked, her voice sounding way too young for her nearly fifteen years.
“We wait,” he replied, his voice filled with a harsh reality that was all too familiar in this harsh land. “Would you like some tea? It’ll help keep you warm, or would you prefer milk?”
“Milk will make me sleepy.” She tried not to yawn. “I’ll have some tea.”
Tearing his eyes away from Tessa’s stare, Benjamin stood and moved to the woodstove. He removed the kettle from the fire and poured hot water over a spoonful of herbs Doc had given him. Finding a jar of honey that was awelcome to Flat River giftfrom Mrs. Chapman, he added a teaspoon to the chipped cup and stirred, letting the herbs steep.
As the tea brewed, he rummaged through the pantry, gathering ingredients for a hearty soup. With precision, he sliced salted beef and peeled root vegetables, adding them to a pot on the stove. He poured the boiling water over the mixture and carefully placed a lid on top.
Turning to tend to the fire, he added more kindling and stoked it until it crackled with heat. The pot of soup would need several hours before it was ready to strain, so he moved on to stirring the beans Tessa had cooked on a tripod over the open flame.
“Your tea should be ready.” He checked the mixture and strained it into a clean cup, saving the herbs before carrying it over to Tessa, who accepted it with a grateful nod. The steam rose from the cup as she cradled it between her hands. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply.
Taking a sip, she sighed. “Thank you. Where should she sleep?” Tessa pointed at Bethany with her toe. “You can’t leave her on the floor, and my room is occupied by...”
“Marigold.” Ben sighed. “You need to take her out soon. I don’t want any messes. Marigold really belongs in the barn.”
Tessa blinked at him several times, her lower lip quivering. “But Ben!” Tessa protested, tears welling up in her eyes. “She’s too little to be out there!”
As he turned back to Bethany, Tessa sipped her tea quietly, studying him through narrowed eyes. He could feel her gaze on his back like a physical weight.
“All right,” he said after a moment’s thought. “Bethany can take my room; I’ll sleep on the settee.”
“I’m going to go check on Marigold,” she said, taking her cup and heading towards her room.
In the quiet that followed Tessa’s departure to the back of the cabin, Ben allowed himself a moment to just breathe. The tension eased out of his broad shoulders as he sank down on a wooden chair by Bethany’s side. He surveyed her quietly, his gaze finally settled on her hands. They were delicate compared to his own calloused ones. A sharp contrast to the hard life he led.
With gentle strength, Benjamin scooped Bethany into his arms and carried her to his bedroom. His muscles welcomed the opportunity to hold her close again. He carefully lowered her onto the soft sheets and tucked her in with a cozy quilt. Pressing his lips gently against her forehead, he whispered to her before reluctantly pulling away. “Sleep well, sweet Beth.”
As he brushed several stray hairs from her face, he lingered for a moment, admiring her serene expression before turning to leave. His heart swelled with an unnamable emotion as he leftthe room, closing the door behind him.
After a dinner of hearty soup and cornbread, Tessa went to bed, leading Marigold by a yellow hair ribbon. Bethany still hadn’t woken up, although Ben checked on her before turning down all the lanterns to settle down by the fire in the main room.
He tried to get comfortable on the lumpy settee, his mind was in turmoil. He couldn’t shake off the image of the woman now sleeping in his bedroom, her presence stirring up a mix of emotions within him.
“Lord,” he prayed silently, “I don’t know why You’ve placed her in our path, but please watch over her and keep her safe. I know You do nothing without a purpose. I pray there is a purpose for her being here and it has nothing to do with Mrs. Chapman.” He finished his evening prayers with a soft amen and flipped over once more on the settee, punching the pillow before closing his eyes.
As the wind howled outside the walls of his humble homestead, inside, a newfound sense of warmth and hope bloomed in Ben’s chest.
