Anywhere with You

“Excuse me,” she said, spinning around to see who she’d...

It was a tree. Jeez.

Chloe turned and smiled.

Grace smiled back and pretended she’d been on her phone. This took crazy to a new low. She was hanging around just to get another look at the guy. Even if she was interested, which she wasn’t, Ben Wolf wouldn’t give her the time of day unless he wanted something. Her instincts said this guy was trouble, and her cop gut was rarely wrong. Which meant she needed to keep her distance. She couldn’t afford a misstep.

She’d come to Blackfoot Falls for a fresh start. To get her career back on track. To escape the lingering suspicion that she’d been involved in the death of her partner. Wrong place, wrong time was basically how Internal Affairs had ruled the tragic incident. But not everyone had believed her story.

Sighing, she slipped her cell into her pocket. Her car key was in there, as well as some lip balm. She hated carrying a purse. T.J. used to tease her about her stuffed pockets.

Damn. She couldn’t think about her ex-partner right now. It would only depress her.

She needed to make the most of this opportunity at a fresh start and stop second-guessing herself. Stop worrying that moving here wasn’t the answer. She’d deal with Uncle Clarence later. Make him see his nepotism was narrowing her odds of being named interim sheriff, much less getting elected in November.

“I should go see if Rachel needs anything.” Katy looked over her shoulder, spotted a tray and set down her empty flute.

Liz snorted. “Good luck.”

Grace’s sweep of the crowd stopped dead when she got a perfect view of Ben. He looked like he’d walked off the cover of American Cowboy. The confidence practically oozed out of him. While he wasn’t the only man wearing jeans, he seemed the only one who’d be comfortable wearing a tux to a softball game. It wouldn’t matter. Women would flock to him either way.

Yep. Trouble. No two ways about it.

Katy was almost at her target. Just a few more steps—

“There you are, Gracie.” It was Clarence. Hurrying toward her.

Terrific.

She dug deep for a smile. Why hadn’t she stayed home? Oh, wait. She didn’t have a home anymore. Just a small room at The Boarding House inn.

2 (#u52eb26de-745a-52a4-bb6b-40e7da477beb)

BEN HAD EXPECTED a few changes in Blackfoot Falls. Like the new filling station near the restored inn where he was staying. A pawn shop had replaced a burger joint. There were probably more surprises...he’d only stopped in town to check in and grab a shower. But damn, he never thought the Sundance would change. The ranch seemed smaller than he remembered. Both barns needed new roofs. And the east barn needed a coat of paint.

Granted, fifteen years was a long while, but in a hick town like Blackfoot Falls, time and people were supposed to stand still.

As Ben drifted through the wedding crowd, he recognized a few faces, but was unable to put names to them. Several old-timers nodded as he passed. Most of the guests just stared. He wondered if they remembered him or thought he was simply another stranger.

Sure, he’d grown up here right alongside the McAllister boys, gone to the same school with Cole and Jesse, played the same sports, shared a love of horses with Trace. But Ben had never been one of them. How could he have been when half the town never let him forget he was the maid’s son. The other half just thought he was trouble.

He slipped off his sunglasses and stopped at a bar, or rather, a folding table set up with booze, a keg and glasses for people to help themselves. So typically Blackfoot Falls and so different from his Hollywood life of excess and decadence.

He poured himself a scotch, neat, thinking about how he’d been a mere kid when he’d left, barely eighteen. Not old enough to drink legally. Of course, a small thing like breaking the law had never stopped him. He tossed back the scotch, feeling the burn all the way down, then left the glass on the tray with the others to be washed. He needed food in his empty belly, not more alcohol.

His mother would be plying him with her homemade tortillas soon enough.

The thought surprised him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about seeing her. He had only started calling her in the past ten years because his sister had nagged the hell out of him. Claudia had never understood how he could stay angry, and he didn’t get how she’d so easily forgiven Hilda for tearing them away from their father.

The man was dead now. And Ben would never know him. All he had left of his dad were the vague memories of a six-year-old. That, and the bitterness over his mother’s betrayal. It still lingered like a hot stone at the edge of a fire. At thirty-three, he was just better at hiding it.

Damn, he wished Claudia was here. She’d always acted as a buffer between him and Hilda. But she was pregnant and couldn’t make the trip, so she’d begged and pleaded for him to come.

He’d finally given in last week, not just for Claudia’s sake, but for Rachel’s, too, and he didn’t want to mess things up as a wedding memento. Where was the little firecracker, anyway? He scanned the crowd. How hard was it to find a redheaded bride?

“Oh, my God, Ben, you made it!” Her voice came from behind him.

He turned to find Rachel’s green eyes filling with tears. The last time he’d seen her, she’d just celebrated her twelfth birthday. She’d grown into a beautiful young woman.

She dabbed at her eyes, then picked up her dress and launched herself at him.

He caught her and stumbled back. “Jesus. How many tons of lace are you wearing?” She laughed and hugged him until he set her at arm’s length. “Man, you’ve grown up.”

“Hey, watch it. She’s taken.”

“Matt Gunderson.” Ben smiled at her new husband and shook his hand. “Good to see you.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while.” Matt yanked his tie loose with a relieved sigh.

Rachel smacked his wrist. “Stop it. We haven’t finished taking pictures.”

“Oh, yes, we have.”

“Please.” Rachel leaned into Matt. “When will I ever get you in a tux again?”

“Never.”

“Exactly.”

Matt slumped in defeat. “So this is married life, huh?” he muttered while letting Rachel redo his tie. “Stay single, Ben. Do yourself a favor and just stay single.”

“Way ahead of you on that one, bro.” Ben grinned at Rachel’s eye roll.

He liked women. He liked sex even more. Fortunately, he rarely went without. But give a woman that much power over him? Wouldn’t happen.

“Have you seen your mom yet?” Rachel asked.

Ben shook his head and looked at Matt. Time to change the subject. “I read somewhere you’re going to quit rodeoing.”

“I’m done. I rode in Vegas for the last time.”

“Why? You were earning big.” Ben glanced at Rachel. Would she miss the big prize money, or had she put the screws to him?

Matt shrugged. “I had enough.”

“Matt’s father died last year and left him the ranch,” Rachel said. “So he’s running the Lone Wolf and raising rodeo stock.”

“We’re running the Lone Wolf,” Matt corrected her, slipping an arm around her.