Secret Pressure (Rhinestone Cowgirls Book 4) (22 page)

“Hey, Chase. Got a moment?” Ben said.

“Not much more than a minute.”

“You doing okay?”

“You know how hectic things get around here before our guests arrive. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.” Ben sensed there was more but he didn’t pressure Chase.  “I should be asking you if you’re holding up. You don’t seem yourself,” Chase said.

“Can’t say things are much different, but you know I always give each day one-hundred percent.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking, man.” Chase scrubbed his jaw. “Men come into this job feeling like they’re on top of the world, but we all know it comes with burn out. Some reach that stage quicker than others. You’ve gotta face the fact that maybe your time to move on is coming. Time to go out in the world. Step back into real life.”

“Is that your way of telling me you want me to pack up and head out?” Ben leaned on his elbows.

“Hell, don’t mince my words. You’re the best cowboy we have here. It’ll be hard to find a cowboy to fill those boots of yours, that is if you decide to leave. See how this season goes and make a decision.” He pushed off the fence. “If you need to talk, stop in my office. Ya hear?”

Ben nodded and sat down on a hay bale.

Eventually, Ben opened the folder and skimmed each heartbreak’s brief information. Part of the registration process was that participants filled out a basic form and were asked a series of questions. Each registrant was required to send in a recent profile picture with their packet of material.

He flipped  through the professional headshots of the women until he came to one. He took the photo out from the small stack.

He found her bio.
Cara. Thirty. A  Texas resident. Loves animals and vintage clothing.

The brunette with the pale complexion had the biggest, saddest blue eyes he’d ever seen. She didn’t quite look into the camera lens as she took the selfie. Was she shy and uncomfortable? These days, women, and men, were selfie crazy, but not this woman. He found her coyness refreshing.

Something in her expression reminded him of his past. He’d buried that part of him, but with the slightest reminder, those memories dashed to the forefront of his existence like a jackhammer in his head.

He didn’t like taking a stroll down memory lane. When old emotions were kindled, he’d go out and work his ass off on the land. It worked better than a good drunk did.

Closing the folder, he grabbed it up, wedged it under his arm and stood.

“Hey, Ben. Are you coming tonight?” Maverick asked from the barn door.

Ben opened his mouth, ready to say no, but then he thought better of it. All of his work was done and he needed to get away, not sit around thinking of the past. “Yes.”

“We’re leaving in thirty.”

“Okay. Meet you in the parking lot.”

Maverick disappeared and Ben inhaled the sweet scent of freshly mowed grass and hay. He looked up and his thoughts rushed back to the woman, Cara. Her eyes were as light as the sky and as mesmerizing.

He walked toward his cabin at the end of staff row. Once inside, he tossed the folder onto his full sized bed and strode inside the small bathroom to splash his face with cold water. When he came back, his gaze automatically shifted to the binder.

What the hell was wrong with him?

What did he recognize in this Cara woman’s eyes that reminded him of the pain he’d suffered years ago?

Hell, he had his own story to tell.

Laura, his teenage sister, had gone riding one morning, something she did all of the time, and was thrown from her horse’s back. Ben would never know for sure what happened while she was riding, but when he found her later, she was lifeless. The image of her body would be branded in his brain forever.

The guilt was a plague.

Laura had asked him to go riding with her that tragic morning, but he’d been too busy with work. He told her to wait until later, but stubborn and headstrong, she’d decided to go alone. The blame had eaten him alive for so long. If he’d gone with her, she’d still be alive, he was certain.

His chest tightened and he dropped onto the bed, the springs squeaked under his weight. He’d left his parents’ home with only a small bag of his belongings and a heart full of sadness. He’d hitchhiked his way across Wyoming, and by chance met Maverick at a roadside diner. He told Ben about Nirvana and the opportunities.

Seeing that he had nothing to lose and nowhere else to go, he joined Maverick. Ben had expected that when he arrived at Nirvana, Chase would send Ben packing. Instead, Chase had invited him to stay. They were expanding and needed hardworking cowboys.

In time, Ben had been able to bury some of his pain and guilt. He’d found a place here at Nirvana and hadn’t been home but a few times since he’d left.

There were moments when Ben hated to admit the truth, but he was lonely. Not a loneliness of solitude because he was always surrounded by great people, even women outside of Nirvana on occasion, but one that came with not having someone to laugh with or share life’s issues with—like what his parents shared. They loved each other dearly.

Ben hoped that one day he’d find his soul mate, but he was starting to think he didn’t have one—not that he’d find the
one
here on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. Women came and went. They used the ranch as a stepping-stone into their future or to getaway, not to find Mr. Right. No woman would want a cowboy who didn’t even own his own ranch.

Chase’s words of wisdom came to Ben’s mind. He needed to make some personal decisions. At times over the past year, he thought about leaving Nirvana. But where would he go?

He could go back home to his family’s ranch, but he knew it wouldn’t be the same. Although his mom and dad never placed the guilt on his shoulders for Laura’s death, they didn’t need to. Seeing their sadness had killed Ben.

He could buy a piece of land and call it home…but that could be a problem. Though they were paid here on the ranch, part of their salary was for lodging and food, and when it came to actual money, Ben hadn’t saved up a lot.

Another option was to apply for a job in a saddle shop. He loved working with leather, making belts and saddles. It was something he did when no heartbreaks were at the ranch. He’d discovered his love for leather one winter season. The ranch was quiet and covered in a blanket of snow, the silence was deafening. He had cabin fever and needed something to do with his time—with his hands. He found a book in Maverick’s small library and read up on how to work with leather. He bought the supplies, learned the trade, and was hooked.

Sometimes he thought it was all a dream, to deliberate doing more, leaving. To think there was more outside of the ranch was a risk. He’d built a safety net here and he could think of far worse places to be. So he guessed he should consider himself lucky that he had landed here at the bleakest time of his life.

Ben considered himself a likeable guy. He was kind, gentle, and honest—Laura told him he was a perfect gentleman. What would she think of him now if she could see him?

She’d probably tell him that he’d never find a suitable woman and have a family while he was working another man’s land. He chuckled. Although he wasn’t in any hurry to leave Nirvana, there were long, cold nights that he longed for someone to hold. Someone to make love with.

He got up from the bed and walked to the window, staring out but seeing nothing. He loved sex, and despite the belief that he shouldn’t have any problems in that area, he didn’t have sex very often. Working on the ranch wasn’t what some people thought. They weren’t gigolos, or cowboys for hire. They did want to make the guests happy, just like the staff at a hotel.  In fact, there weren’t many women who visited the ranch that he found himself attracted to. A lot of the heartbreaks were divorced socialites who just wanted to get away and be left alone for a while. He wasn’t in their league—rich or refined enough for their tastes.  They lived in a different world than him.

How did this newest heartbreak, Cara, fit with the rest?

Something he saw in Cara’s eyes told him she’d suffered more than he could understand. She carried a lot of sadness and her eyes were a window into her grief.

He could offer her friendship.

He went to his closet, grabbed the first shirt he came to and dragged it on. He could use a beer.