The Color of Forever: Book Two: Forever Cowboys Series (15 page)

“It might be the second most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Ben said. “But the absolute
most
beautiful thing I’ve ever seen is you.”

Samantha stared at him, her heart thudding in her chest. Ben was looking at her, a serious look on his face. Was he serious, she wondered, then caught herself up sharply. Yes, he was serious. Dead serious. The intent look on his face left no room for doubt.

“You mean that, don’t you?” Her voiced quivered slightly.

“Yep.” He nodded. “Every word of it. The very first time I saw you at Marielle and Trey’s wedding, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life. Ever since then, you just keep getting more and more beautiful.”

Samantha was overcome with emotion, unable to speak. She stood there literally dumbstruck by Ben’s words. She was used to flattery and compliments from men, but she couldn’t remember any of them being this sincere. He really, truly thought she was beautiful … the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She struggled to collect herself and try not to show how his words affected her in case she appeared needy, but the moment was heavy with feeling between them.

She swallowed hard and decided to go for honesty. “Ben, thank you. That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Then you’ve been hanging out with the wrong guys, Samantha, because a woman like you should be told nice things like that every day.”

Impulsively, she stepped close to him and laid her hand on his arm. “You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever known, Ben Connors. Oh and by the way, you’re beautiful, too.” Samantha attempted a lighthearted laugh but it froze on her lips when she saw Ben’s eyes darken with desire. He pulled her to him and kissed her, softly at first and then with increasing intensity.

She kissed him back, her hands coming up to caress his broad shoulders as she pressed her body to his and arched her back in a message as old as time itself. At this point, Samantha felt like one big raging hormone. She wanted Ben to make love to her with an urgency that left her breathless.

He lowered her to the ground and they were surrounded by flowers but Samantha was blind to their beauty now. Every nerve in her body was screaming for even more closeness to the man who held her in his arms, his kisses leaving her lips and trailing down her neck. He pushed the flimsy low cut top aside and freed a breast from her lacy bra, then kissed the rosy mound and flicked her nipple with his tongue, sending her into an agony of need and desire.

She writhed against him in uncontrolled passion, her hands moving down to unfasten his belt. Ben’s breath was labored and he groaned when she unbuckled his belt and fumbled with the zipper of his jeans.

Samantha was on fire. Ben Connors had become a fever in her blood and she was exultant even as she hungered for him as she had never wanted another man, knowing she was about to experience his lovemaking.

Ben rose above her, his magnificent body glistening with a light film of perspiration in the sunlight. Samantha inhaled the clean, slightly spicy male scent of him and felt her passion ratchet up another notch as her mouth went dry with wanting him.

Suddenly he froze and his entire body tensed. “Samantha,” he said into her ear, his voice low, “stay perfectly still. Don’t move a muscle.”

She blinked, confused and bewildered. What was happening? One second they were on the brink of having sex and the next Ben was ordering her not to move.

“What’s wrong?” Samantha hissed in a stage whisper. “What is it?”

Ben shushed her, easing slowly off of her body beneath him to lie flat on the ground. “Don’t raise your head!” he said in a urgent whisper. “Just be still.”

She obeyed, feeling shell shocked. Ben lay on his stomach, staring out through the native flowers and grasses to a point beyond them on the other side of the meadow. She started to speak and ask him what he was looking at, but guessing her intent when she opened her mouth, he held a finger to his lips to silence her.

They had been lying there for several long minutes when the silence of the clearing was broken by a series of loud gunshots. They sounded close by and Samantha’s heart was racing again, this time in fear.

She stole a look at Ben. His face was grim and set in hard lines she had never seen it wear. He had always been pleasant and smiling around her, but this was a side of the man she had never known before. He was like a stranger to her. She wondered what he saw that put that formidable expression on his usual good natured countenance.

They lay there a few more minutes, then Ben stood up and offered her a hand, pulling her to her feet.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ve got to get back to my truck.”

Samantha was a little annoyed. They had been about to have sex when he had commanded her to be still and shushed her when she tried to speak and she felt she was due an explanation. She dusted some grass and flower petals off her clothes and then put both hands on her hips, facing him squarely.

“I’m not going anywhere, Ben Connors, until you tell me what this is all about!”

“Samantha, there were two men on the other side of the meadow. Two men with guns. I’m reasonably certain they’re the poachers who have killed several pronghorn antelope for their antlers and then left their carcasses behind. You heard the shots. Right before that, I saw a small herd of deer at the edge of the meadow.”

“Oh, no! Did they kill any of them?” Samantha felt sick. She had seen quite a few of the graceful antelopes and deer, and couldn’t stand the thought of anyone slaughtering them like that. Hunting for food was one thing. Ben had talked to her about that. But senseless killing just to collect their antlers and sell them on the black market was something else again. Something vicious and ugly.

“Yeah, they hit two and neither went down. So the poachers have followed them into the trees to finish them off. There’s only one way for a vehicle to get in and out of this area and I want to head them off and be waiting for them when they come out.”

They untied the horses and Samantha was glad they had been tethered in the woods behind them so they were unseen by the poachers.

“Are you up to a slow trot on your horse instead of a walk?” Ben asked her. “If not, it’s okay. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Samantha assured him that she’d be fine and they wasted no time getting back down to the ranch. “I can take care of the horses,” she told him, understanding his need to hurry and wanting to help. “Good girl,” he told her, his voice warm. Then he brushed her lips in a quick kiss, jumped into his truck and was gone.

Samantha stood staring after him for a long time, her thoughts chaotic. She wasn’t brooding on her disappointment that they had finally been about to have sex when the poachers appeared. In fact, she had brushed any thoughts about that away impatiently so she could focus on what was really worrying her.

It had just occurred to her for the first time that Ben’s job could be dangerous. He was going to try and stop those two men by himself. Alone. With nobody to help him or there for backup if he needed it. For the third time that day Samantha’s heart was skipping beats. But this time it was caused not by lust or fear for herself, but fear for Ben. She was terrified, scared beyond belief that something would happen to Ben, that he might be hurt or even worse.

She stared blankly, trying to imagine a world without Ben Connors in it and somehow knew that it wouldn’t be one she would want to live in. But these thoughts scared her, too, for a different reason. How could someone she had known for such a short while … someone she wasn’t even interested in except physically … come to mean so much to her that the thought of his death made her feel that her life would be over, too?

Pushing those thoughts away, Samantha decided she had enough to worry about right now, fearing for Ben’s safety. She’d drag those other troubling thoughts out once this crisis was over and sort them out then.

In the meantime, she just wanted Ben to come back to her safely.

Having spent several restless hours pacing the floor of the little ranch house in an agony of worry about Ben, Samantha felt relief flood through her when she heard a vehicle in the drive and looked out to see that it was Ben’s truck with Ben driving—safe and sound.

Thank goodness! She was so glad he had stopped by this evening. She wouldn’t have slept well, if at all, not knowing if he was okay.

At the back of her mind there was a tiny, persistent thought about precisely why Ben’s welfare had come to mean so much to her. It wasn’t like they were married or even engaged. Actually, she reminded herself, not to put too fine a point on it but they weren’t even dating or going together. So why did Ben’s safety seem of paramount importance to her? Well, she’d take a leaf from Scarlett O’Hara’s book and think about it tomorrow.

For now, she was too intent on rushing out to greet Ben and get the lowdown on what had transpired with the poachers.

“Ben,” she cried, slamming the screen door in her haste to get out on the front porch to meet him. “You’re alright! Did you catch them? Did they get away? What happened?”

Ben made it to where she stood on the porch in a few long strides and smiled down at her. “Hey, slow down, Samantha. Tell you what,” he said teasingly, “I’ll trade you information for a cup of coffee.”

“Deal!” Samantha turned and went inside, Ben following her to the kitchen. She dumped coffee beans into the grinder and measured out cold water for the coffee. “How about a sandwich? Have you had anything to eat?”

He slouched comfortably in the straight back chair at the kitchen table and heaved a weary sigh. “Nope. I spent the rest of today trying to catch those men but no luck. Missed my lunch and dinner. So a sandwich would be great. Thanks.”

The coffee ready, Samantha poured them both a cup and then assembled a thick ham and cheese sandwich for Ben, proud that it was on slices of her homemade bread. Remembering that she hadn’t eaten either, she made herself one as well. Settling down at the table where they both munched on the sandwiches and drank coffee, she was impatient to hear all the details connected with the poachers.

“If there is only one way in and out of that area,” she asked, “How did they get away? Do you think they left before you got back there in your truck?”

Ben shook his head slowly. “Beats me. If there’s another way in and out I don’t know about it and I thought I knew every inch of the territory around here. I don’t see how those men could have tracked the wounded antelope they shot, remove the antlers and get back to their vehicle before I staked out the exit. But they must have. I waited for hours and no sign of them. Finally gave up and left. I’ll go back in there tomorrow to see if I can find any tracks or get an idea about how they’re getting in and out without being seen.”

Samantha felt a flicker of disquiet. He was going back after the poachers. Alone.

“Isn’t there another game warden who could go with you?”

“I can get help when I need it,” he replied. “But the closest game warden is like me, covering a huge area with too much to do and not enough time or resources to do it the way it should be done. So I only call on him when it’s a bona fide emergency.”

Personally, Samantha considered two armed and dangerous men a bona fide emergency and thought it was too risky for Ben to confront them by himself. It would be two against one. She felt her anxiety return with this thought and struggled to maintain her composure, not wanting Ben to think she was the hysterical type.

“Well, if you’re sure,” she told him doubtfully.

“Trust me, I’ll be fine,” he replied, reaching across the small table and covering her hand with his. Looking up, Samantha was struck anew by the ever-changing color of his eyes. Right now they appeared so light a blue as to be almost silver, which was pure dynamite with his thick, dark, out-to-here eyelashes.

“But I like it that you’re concerned about me.”

Whoa! Samantha suddenly didn’t care for the way this conversation was going. Yes, she had been worried sick about him but encouraging him to think that her concern was anything more than that of a friend wasn’t fair to him, since she’d be leaving as soon as it was safe to go back home. Snatching her hand away, she pushed her chair back abruptly and crossed to the sink with her sandwich plate and coffee cup, feeling a need to put more space between them.

She cleared her throat self consciously. “Of course I’m concerned about you. We’re friends.”