“Benjamin,” Winifred reminded me.
I walked straight past Mr. Bancroft, instead, to the stunning girl with the waterfall curls, and hoped my trousers weren’t giving me away as I gazed down into her surprised eyes.
“Ben,” she whispered.
Chapter 5
1899
Josie
So many thoughts bombarded at once, tumbling over one another. Contradictions clashing with what I knew as fact. The first being that Ben was here. My heart about leaped from my chest at the sight of him. The second was the automatic response to hide that feeling. Third—wait, why was he here? And looking like—good Lord, he was beautiful in a dark brown suit that made his eyes—but why would he be in a suit? How did he get an invitation?
I glanced up at my father to see if he noticed, but . . . I was quite sure everyone noticed.
Because Ben was standing directly in front of me. Holding out his hand. A very odd expression on his face.
“What—I mean—” I stammered, unsure what tack to take.
“Happy birthday, Josephine. May I speak with you for just a moment,” he said, darting a glance toward my father before meeting my eyes again.
“Ben,” I said, licking my lips. It was okay. Of course we’d know each other. I knew all of the ranch hands at the Lucky B, but none of them would be at this party. “What are you doing?”
“What’s going on?” my father said, his tone low. When I looked up, he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at Ben. Something was strange.
“Josie,” Ben said. “Please. Just five minutes.”
My hand was off my father’s arm in the next second, and onto Ben’s. Without another thought. Well, with quite a few thoughts, actually, and with the weight of a million eyes boring into me, but I didn’t care. I loved him so much. We’d been declaring our love since that first day under the bridge, when I’d given every part of myself to the only man I could ever imagine loving like this. I told him every time I saw him, and he’d pretend to be insulted and say I love you more. Then one day I’d gotten really brazen and told him to prove it. He had. That was quite pleasant.
“I’ll be right back,” I said to my father, daring to meet his gaze. “It’s—fine.”
I had no idea if it was fine.
“Benjamin,” called a female voice nearby. Something in the back of my brain said it might be relevant, but I was swimming too deeply in the fog.
“Josephine.”
My father’s voice. And my proper name. Never a good sign from his lips. But it landed at my back as I followed Ben into a library. And we closed the door to the outside world.
Once again, it was just us, the way we knew how to be, but—nothing about this situation felt like us. Above my head, hanging from a hook on the nearest bookshelf, hung a branch of fresh mistletoe. It was the third one I’d seen since I walked through the front doors of Mr. Mason’s home. Someone here was a romantic.
“What’s going on, Ben?” I asked, echoing my father’s question. “This is a bit much to steal a kiss, don’t you think? What on earth are you doing here?”
Ben glanced fleetingly above our heads, and then closed his eyes, his hands warm on my upper arms. I felt goose bumps travel from the back of my neck down to the soles of my feet. Something big was happening. Something—possibly not good.
“I love you, Josie Bancroft,” he said. “I swear on my life, I will love you until the day I die.”
That was ominous. And the way he held me now, the way he looked at me—those goose bumps intensified.
“I love you, too, Ben,” I said, winking at him. “I love you more.” My hands rested on his suit coat, bringing down my gaze to the fine leather I was touching. Nothing like the work clothes he wore every day. But then, I didn’t normally don fancy dresses either, so . . . But maybe it was about my birthday? It felt so off-balance. “Why are you here? How—”
His lips were on mine, stopping my words. Soft. Bold. Incredibly needy, as his hands moved to hold my face as he kissed me as though he were memorizing the feel and taste of me.
This wasn’t about a birthday surprise. Or Christmas anything. Something was wrong. Or big. Or both.
I pulled back and looked into his eyes, narrowing mine.
“Tell me,” I said. “Whatever it is. Tell me, right now.”
Ben took in a long breath and released it slowly, while never breaking my gaze. My last thought as he opened his mouth to speak, was that nothing would ever be the same again.
“Travis Mason is my uncle,” he said.
Blinking, I pulled back an inch.
“What?”
“His brother, Lawrence, is my father,” he said. “and the long and the short of it is that I came here to work and—”
“Wait,” I said, pushing back against the leather suit that suddenly felt foreign under my touch. “You told me—how did you end up at our—”
“The theft at the Lucky B,” he said. “The food. The supplies.”
“That’s you?” I cried, pushing harder against his hold.
“No!” he said, shutting his eyes briefly. “Damn it, this isn’t going right,” he muttered. “Please just listen.”
My mind was going in every direction but in listening mode, but I tilted my head to let him continue.
“I was new in town, so they—”
“They, who?”
He sighed, frustration working on his patience. “My uncle. Your father. They sent me to your ranch to see if I could learn anything. Keep my eyes and ears open.”
I felt my jaw drop.
“You are at the Lucky B to spy on us?”
“Not you,” he said. “The other hands. They think it’s someone working there.”
“You lied to
