Page 68 of Plentywood
His voice sounded different. Like he was suddenly a changed person. What had happened to the wonderful man at the get-together? The chummy and warm person who was sneaking into my heart. The one who had charmed my friends as well as me.
I pulled into the parking lot of the clinic. “Have I done or said something wrong, Ben?” I asked. “We seemed to be getting along tonight.”
“Tell me something, sheriff,” he said, his finger on the door handle. Almost like he couldn’t wait to get out of the Tahoe. “Why are you not speaking to your father?”
I may as well tell him the truth. Our evening had crashed and burned on the side of the road as it was. “Because he will benefit if your father sells the ranch.”
“And how is that?” he asked.
“Your father has promised my dad that he will receive the main house and several acres around it if he helps with the saleof the rest,” I stated. “He says he wants the house more than he cares about the town’s loss of help from the ranch. I’m struggling to understand him and forgive his selfishness.”
“Your father sounds like an absolute peach, sheriff.”
I studied the suddenly hostile man sitting next to me, doing my best to understand the sudden change in him. “Why are you suddenly calling me sheriff?” I asked. “What happened to Hunt or Hunter?”
“Because I need to face a few facts,sheriff. And letting myself get attached to a man like you won’t do me any favors,” he replied.
“What facts?” I asked.
“The fact that I don’t have to stay in this fucking town one more day, so falling for you is not in my plans.” He opened the door and stepped out.
“Hang on.” Ben paused and turned to face me. “You were falling for me?”
“Yeah, sheriff. I was,” he admitted. “But just like me, you’ve got a father that is trying to fuck youandyour town over. The main difference between those two assholes, though. Mine conspired with the only woman I believed in. My grandmother!”
Ben slammed the door shut and walked toward the clinic’s back door. Once at the back porch, he stopped. I thought maybe he’d turn around, or come back, but he didn’t.
As confused as I was by everything that had transpired, I had one singular thought. Hehadbeen falling for me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: Benedict
“You motherfucking, lying asshole, son-of-a-bitch!” I hissed, slamming the door after arriving home.
I leaned against the door inside the clinic waiting room, fuming over the betrayal from my father. The Tahoe’s headlights still cast beams of light across the parking lot while Hunter remained parked outside. I was so angry I was spitting piss and vinegar. My father must have lied to me about my grandmother’s trust. She hadn’t insisted I be here. He wanted me here. But why?
I’d lashed out at Hunter as well, and he didn’t deserve my hostility. Unless, of course, he knew. His father managed the ranch. He lived on the ranch as well. How could he not have known the details of this arrangement? Perhaps I was being fucked with from all sides.
But what if I was wrong about Hunter? What reason would he have to withhold information from me? And he certainly hadn’t shown any signs that he was a spiteful man. If I found out he was involved somehow, then it’d be easier to reset my heart and the feelings building within it. However, if he was innocent, then I needed to eat a big slice of crow pie and apologize for my behavior.
Perhaps I should be the bigger man and go back outside and apologize right now. I’d gone from being a friendly, trying to get to know him, nice guy, to a bitch on wheels. He was most definitely deserved of better from me. I peeked out of the window. His taillights were visible at the stop sign. Too late.
I wandered upstairs to my apartment, my insides tumbling around like a dryer full of tennis shoes. I’d been used for some reason, and it didn’t feel good. There had to be a reason that my father would want me in Plentywood this precise year. Was it a coincidence that I came here June 1stand agreed to stay through May of the following year?
I mean, I had completed my medical training, so the timing was good, but how could he have timed it so perfectly without there being a reason? Could that even be a coincidence, considering Hunter told me the trust that oversees the ranch ends exactly on that date?
Sleeping would suck tonight, but it was far too late on the East Coast to call my father and investigate what the hell he was up to. I’d scream my ass off at him first thing in the morning.
You shouldn’t confront your father directly, Ben. He has masterfully manipulated you thus far. Play his game, but smarter.
The message played over and over in my head, until finally my nerves gave way to sleep.
* * *
I was up at six in the morning. Nine, New York City time. “Jaime Goldberg, please,” I said, tapping my fingers on my desk. We wouldn’t have a patient until eight and Agnes wouldn’t be here until fifteen minutes prior to that. I had time to do a little investigating.
“May I ask who is calling?” an uptight guy asked.
I think I’d seen the wannabe gatekeeper, Clark Kent lookalike the last time I was in Jaime’s office. That had been an awful visit. But based on what I thought had really happened back then, it was about to get worse. I’d been manipulated. That didn’t feel good.
