Page 15 of Morning Dove

Is he implying what I think he is?

He looked away, back down at the wire he was coiling. “I thought she already had one.”

“Who, Walter?” Aaron scoffed. “That old bastard isn’t her husband. He just told everyone she was and beat the hell out of her for saying otherwise.”

So she’d been abused. He’d suspected as much from what little she’d told him, but thinking something and knowing it were two different things.

“She’d make a good wife for you, Ben.”

Aaron’s quiet statement brought his head up, and he laughed at the absurdity of it. “Hate to break it to you, brother, but no woman wants a dirt poor drunken cowboy.”

“You’re not a drunk.”

He laughed again. “That’s not what my sister says.”

“Only because whenever she sees you, you’re usually drunk.”

“That’s because when I’m not around her, I’m in the saloon—drunk.” He tossed down the roll of wire he’d been rolling and picked up another.

“You’re not your father, Ben.”

Thoughts of his father made him pause. “Close enough.”

“No, you’re not. He was a bitter old man who blamed his kids for his wife’s death and pissed his life away out of sheer loneliness.”

“Well, I don’t have kids but the pissing one's life away I’m getting good at.”

“Only because you’re not trying harder.”

He laughed to hide his growing irritation. “You’re forgetting that I live in a tiny house on a piece of land I don’t even own. Besides my horse, I don’t have a damn thing to offer a woman.”

“You have yourself.”

He snorted. “And that’s exactly why I’m still single and always will be.” He’d heard enough and grabbed the wire, carrying it over to the barn and tossing it down. “Morning Dove deserves someone better than me, Aaron. She’s young and beautiful and I’m sure somebody in this valley would be more than willing to marry her.”

“She’s also a Native. That alone will keep any potential suitor away. Hell, half the people in Willow Creek are scared she’s going to bring death to everyone in town just from her being here.”

Ben listened to Aaron try to convince him no one else would want Morning Dove because of her heritage and he knew, for the most part, he was right. People were prejudiced against her for something she had no control over, but that didn’t mean she deserved to end up with him.

Since the day he set eyes on her, he’d lain awake more nights than he wanted to admit imagining himself asking her to marry him. He’d imagined her saying yes every single time. Imagined her jumping into his arms, covering his face with kisses before demanding he take her to his bed, but then reality would slink in and keep him awake knowing he had nothing to offer her. He had a good heart, or he liked to think he did, but everyone knew he couldn’t stay sober for more than a few days at a time and with what little Morning Dove had told him about Walter, the man he assumed killed her family and took her as his own, she deserved a man who could give her everything she wanted. And that wasn’t him. He wasn’t good enough for her, even on his best day, and everyone knew it.

He sighed and carried the wire into the barn, ignoring Aaron. Morning Dove might not know it yet but if she lived in Willow Creek long enough, she’d figure out what everyone else already knew…that he would be a bum just like his old man and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

Chapter Five

When Betsey asked her to go to town with her after they dropped Samuel off to spend time with his grandparents, she never thought she would end up at Ben’s house.

Betsey let herself in, the door squeaking on its hinges as she pushed it open. Morning Dove hesitated. She had been here several times since coming to Willow Creek, but always stayed outside. She had wondered what the inside of the house looked like—wondered where it was Ben spent his time—and her pulse was leaping as she followed Betsey.

She stopped on the threshold to look around. Where Betsey and Aaron’s house was warm and inviting, Ben’s home was cold and—depressing.

“Oh my Lord, look at this place!”

She was. A table seperated the living room and kitchen and every surface she saw was covered with—something. Dishes sat stacked near the sink and covered the table, and the air held a musty scent as if the place had not been aired out in ages.

“I had no idea my brother was such a pig.”

Betsey headed to the kitchen, to a door along the back wall, and opened it. Morning Dove could see the small barn from where she stood. “Help me open the windows in here, Morning Dove.”

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