Love Somebody Like You (29 page)

“Ben, why are we talking about rodeo schools?” Sally looked puzzled, maybe a little unhappy.

Oh-oh. What had he done wrong now? “Uh, well . . .” How to explain that he was making a sales pitch—on him being a guy she could build a future with?

“I mean, the topic is interesting,” she said, “but here we are at this lovely restaurant, we haven't seen each other in a month and a half, and we're talking about rodeo schools?”

“Yeah.” And he was blowing it. “Damn, I'd really intended to have a draft of a real business plan.”

“Business plan?” She stared at him like he wasn't making sense, which he had to admit was pretty much true. Then she said slowly, “Business plan for a rodeo school? Are you saying you're thinking of starting a rodeo school?”

He nodded, his pulse jackhammering. Would she think he was insane? Or would she believe he could actually make a go of it?

Still speaking slowly, measuring out each word, she asked, “When were you thinking of doing it?”

“After this season. I hope to win some decent money. I've got some put by already, and if I can add a chunk to it, I should have enough to buy some stock, get a start on building the facilities I'd need.” Thanks to his research, he had a good idea of the figures involved; he just hadn't had a chance to put them into a spreadsheet. “If I put together a decent business plan, I ought to be able to get a bank loan for the rest.”

She looked confused, and he realized he'd left out something important. “Of course I'd pay for use of the land and any shared facilities. The whole idea's for me to contribute, not to take advantage.”

“What land?” Again she weighed out each word. “Take advantage of who? Whom?”

He frowned. Hadn't he made that clear? “Sally, I'm talking about combining forces. Ryland Riding and Traynor Rodeo School. Together.”

Sometimes her pretty face could be so expressive; other times she could be impossible to read. The latter, he was sure, came from her experience with Pete. He hated that right now she'd put on the impassive face. He had laid his future, his heart, on the line and she was giving him nothing back.

Something flickered in the green depths of her eyes. Something that looked like vulnerability. “Why?” she breathed. “Why would we do that?”

Well, hell. If she had to ask, then obviously she didn't feel the same way.

He knew when it made sense to back off. Like when he'd been a crazy kid and thought bull riding would be cool, then realized it scared the shit out of him and he was wiser sticking to broncs. The wise thing now would be to tell Sally he'd thought it might make good business sense, but if she didn't agree then that was fine. He'd always figured on spending another five or ten years rodeoing, so it wasn't like he'd have lost anything.

Except that he would have. He'd have lost Sally. Damn it, he wasn't going to lose the woman he loved without first laying everything on the line.

“We'd do it because”—he'd never said the words before, and he had to swallow before he forced them out—“because I love you. And if there's any hope you might one day . . .” The look of utter shock on her face brought him to a stumbling halt.

Appalled, he watched as her eyes went a bright, glittery green and then tears spilled down her cheeks. He grabbed for her hand. “Oh hell, Sally, I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm not trying to pressure you.” Belatedly, it occurred to him that maybe she thought he was like Pete, trying to impose his wishes. “I'd never ask you to do something you don't want to do.”

The tears still flowed freely.

“Please stop crying. I'll do anything. I'll take it all back. We can pretend we never even mentioned rodeo schools, and—”

“Would you just”—she sniffled—“shut up?”

He closed his mouth.

She freed her hand and used both hands to brush tears from her cheeks. She gave a big sniffle, then said, “Do
not
take it back.” Sniff. “Did you really say . . . you love me?”

He nodded, not sure if he was still supposed to keep his mouth shut.

“Did you mean it?”

“Yes,” he dared to say. “But I didn't want to make you cry.”

“You big idiot.” She shook her head, coppery curls tossing. “You total, utter idiot!”

“I'm sorry.” Just what he'd done that was so wrong, he wasn't entirely sure. But if he could, he'd take it back, redo it, whatever she wanted.

She shook her head some more. Her cheeks were drying; her eyes gleamed but this time not with tears; and her mouth formed a grin. She let out a chuckle.

“Sally?” he said warily.

She gave another snorty-sounding chuckle. “You know those broncs that come out of the chute ass-backward?”

“Yeah?”

“The judges award a re-ride. Cowboy, you might want to take that re-ride.” Her voice held dry humor but her eyes were telling a different story, all soft and melty.

She was saying he'd approached things ass-backward. But he'd respected her feminine side with flowers, a nice restaurant, and champagne, and he'd respected the practical businesswoman by discussing business ideas with her. He'd even told her he loved her.

At the very end. Was that what she meant?

The last time their waitress had offered to refill their champagne glasses, they'd both waved her off. Now, he lifted the neglected bottle out of the ice bucket and poured half a glass for Sally and another for himself.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Tension made Sally's entire body tremble, not so much that anyone would notice yet enough that she felt like she might fly apart in a zillion pieces. Trying to calm her breathing, she gazed at the golden liquid, not as fizzy as it had been when the bottle was first opened, but still bubbly. Celebratory.

Ben had poured champagne. He'd said he loved her. This was going to be the happiest night of her life. Wasn't it? Or had she completely misunderstood the situation?

“Sally?”

She raised her gaze from the glass to his face. Did her hopes and dreams, and the love she felt for him, show in her eyes?

“Sally Pantages Ryland, I love you.”

He'd said it again. He was taking his re-ride and starting with the most important thing. Again moisture filled her eyes, hazing her vision. She blinked, wanting to see every detail of his striking, beloved face.

“You're the only woman I've ever loved,” he went on. “The time I spent with you—working side by side, going for rides, sharing meals, making love—that was the best time of my life. When I got back to the rodeo, it was good riding Chaunce after a steer, hanging out with Dusty. Having a ride like the one this afternoon is a real high. But none of it's been as good as it used to be, because I kept missing you.”

No matter how fast she blinked, happy tears overflowed. “I kept missing you, too.”

“I realized I loved you. I want to spend my life with you.”

To spend his life with her? Oh my God, this was really happening.

“But I wasn't sure I was good enough for you. Hell”—he gave a rough laugh—“I know I'm not good enough for you.”

“You are, Ben.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hands, holding on to him and never wanting to let go. “You're perfect for me.”

“I want to offer you something. I want to
be
something, something more than your assistant. That's Corrie's job now, anyhow. I want a thing of my own, like you have with Ryland Riding, but it needs to be something I can share with you. Something we can build together. Does that make any sense?”

“Yes.” She nodded firmly. “A lot of sense.”

“With a rodeo school, I could step back from the circuit, but still do some local rodeos to keep my hand in. I'd still live in the world of rodeo. I could pass along everything I've learned, and keep learning more. Watching you, I saw how rewarding it is to teach.”

“It sure is. But do you think you could be happy, not competing full-time?”

He gave a wry grin. “I'm pretty damned sure I won't be happy if I'm not with you. But yeah, I think running a rodeo school would make me real happy. Along with helping you and Corrie with Ryland Riding.”

Her heart was so full, it felt like it was overflowing, the same as her damp eyes.

“I've been doing a bunch of research and I was gonna draft a business plan this weekend,” he said. “Then I was going to come see you after this rodeo.”

“You were?” While she'd been gathering her courage to come to him and tell him she loved him, he'd been doing the same thing.

“I wanted to have all my ducks in a row. Lay it out all neat and tidy.” He laughed. “But it was still gonna be ass-backward, I guess.”

She couldn't help but smile. “If you'd led with the ‘I love you,' you'd have saved yourself a lot of effort.”

He smiled back. “That would've done it?”

She nodded, then suddenly realized she hadn't told him how she felt. He wasn't the only one who was doing this clumsily. Squeezing his hands, she said, “I love you, Ben. With all my heart. With or without a rodeo school. Even if you stay full-time on the rodeo circuit.”

Watching his face, she read his reaction. Saw when his own eyes moistened. His voice was choky when he said, “But that'd be no fun. I want to wake up with you every morning and go to bed with you every night.”

“I want that, too. More than anything.”

He freed his right hand and raised his champagne glass. That big hand, so confident when holding the rein on a bronc or roping a steer, actually trembled. “To us, Sally. To our love.”

She raised her glass, amazed to find that her own hand was steady, and clicked it against his. “To us, our love, and to building a future together.”

“Those are the finest words I've ever heard.”

Epilogue

On a balmy June evening the next summer, Sally came out of the chicken coop. Her evening chores were finished, but there was one thing more that she and Ben needed to attend to tonight, if she could work up the courage.

Speaking of her husband, there he was now, easing the door of the bunk house closed. Seeing her, he raised a hand in greeting and strode toward her. At his heels was Zeke, their blue heeler.

She leaned down to stroke the dog, then straightened and asked Ben, “Get the kids settled for the night?” It was the second night of a weeklong bronc riding course at the newly minted Traynor Riding and Rodeo School.

“Yeah. They're out like lights. They're not used to working this hard.” Ben put his arm around her and she reciprocated as they strolled toward the house with Zeke following them. “You get your ladies settled?”

“I did.” She'd also asked her hens to cross their wings for her and Ben.

“No more putting it off.” He hugged her tighter against the reassuring warmth of his muscular body.

“I know. But what if it's negative?”

“Then we'll keep trying. I like the trying.”

“Me too, but I want a baby, Ben.”

“Sweetheart, there's time. It'll happen when it's meant to happen.”

She knew that his words, like his hug, were meant to be reassuring. But she also knew that Ben yearned as much as she did for a child—or, even better, two or three.

At the bottom of the back stairs, they said good night to Zeke, who was an outdoor dog. Then they went up to the mudroom, shucked their boots, and entered the kitchen. The room was so much brighter now with light yellow paint and terra cotta tile, so much homier with photos stuck to the fridge and a couple of Robin's drawings on the walls.

Sally's husband patted her on the butt. “Go upstairs and pee.”

“How romantic,” she said in a mock grumble.

She took the stairs steadily, one foot after the other, not letting herself stop. Her period, which had always been regular, was a week late, and she felt like she'd been holding her breath for every minute of those days. Yesterday, she'd tempted fate by buying a pregnancy test, figuring that for sure she'd wake up today and find that her period had started. But she hadn't.

Until the moment she took that test, she could hope. Once she read the results . . .

Resolutely, she went into the bathroom and fished the package out from under the sink. She'd already opened it and read the instructions, but now she did so again. She couldn't help but remember the other time she'd been pregnant. How happy she'd felt, and yet she'd been wary of Pete—and she'd been right to be wary.

Thank God for Ben. Thank God for second chances. This time, she'd found a man who loved and supported her, who respected and honored her.

After she peed on the stick, she checked her watch. “Three minutes,” she murmured, knowing it would feel more like an hour.

When she went into the bedroom, their song was playing. Keith Urban sang about how, when his special woman hugged him, he could do anything in the world. Ben stood at the window, his back to her. The music had masked the sound of the bathroom door opening.

She studied him for a long moment. His straight back, strong shoulders, lean hips and legs. So strong, so handsome. But more than that, he was the finest man she'd ever known. Sometimes it was hard to believe that he was hers. But he was. She hadn't had to find someone
like
Ben; she had the real deal. And together they could do anything. Whether it was this month or next, they would create a baby, a family.

She just really, really hoped the time was now.

“Honey?” she said.

He turned and strode over to her. “Well?”

“Still waiting.” She put the stick down on the dresser and stepped away from it. “I'm not going to look until it's been three minutes.”

He clasped her hand and she held up her other arm to display the face of her watch. “Another forty seconds,” she told him. “There'll be two pink stripes if I'm pregnant. One if I'm n-not.” She stumbled over the last word.

They both stared at her watch in silence as the second hand moved unbelievably slowly. Finally, she said, “Now. But I'm not sure I can look.”

“Want me to?”

“Yes. It's two pink stripes if—”

“I know.” He stepped toward the dresser.

Time stood still. Sally didn't breathe.

Then Ben turned to her, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh my God!” she cried.

“We're having a baby!” he affirmed.

He dropped the stick as she leaped into his arms and he caught her. Her thighs locked around his waist, his arms circled her shoulders, and he whirled the two of them around and around. She laughed and cried at the same time, gazing down into his beaming face.

When he finally stopped spinning, he staggered to the bed and eased her down as if she were a fragile doll rather than a strong cowgirl.

She caught his head between her hands, pulled him down to her, and smothered his face with kisses. “I'm so happy, I'm going to burst.”

“I'm so happy, I'm going to make love to you all night long.” He winked. “I've never made love to a pregnant woman before.”

“I'm delighted to hear that.”

He raised up and peeled off his tee, revealing his sexy muscled torso with the scar from where he'd risked his life to save another cowboy's. He pulled his belt through the loops, then started in on her shirt buttons. “This is going to be so cool, watching your body change.”

“And gradually turn whale-sized,” she said contentedly.

“You're gonna be so beautiful, Sally Traynor. Even more beautiful than now.” He peeled the sides of her shirt back. “Hey, I think your breasts are bigger already.”

She laughed, the movement jiggling her B-cup breasts. “Wishful thinking.”

“Lovely breasts, whatever size they are.” He sucked her nipple through her bra, making it pucker and sending a tug of arousal rippling through her. “Responsive breasts. Breasts that turn me on something fierce.”

As he turned his attention to her other nipple, he was doing a fine job of turning her on, too. Eventually, he reached behind her to snap open the clasp of the bra, then he helped her struggle out of her shirt and bra.

“Naked is better,” he confirmed, working the button at the waistband of her jeans.

Obligingly, she shifted position so he could strip off her jeans and panties. His gaze focused on her belly, flat and toned.

She rested a hand on it. “Our baby's growing in there. Our little boy or girl.”

“Little cowboy or cowgirl,” he corrected. His hand cupped hers. “It's the most natural thing in the world, yet it seems miraculous, doesn't it?”

“Everything seems miraculous. Ever since the day you stepped back into my life.”