What Lies Between (39 page)

As I stepped off the bottom stair, someone knocked on the front door. Ben strode from the kitchen to answer, not seeing me. In my morning haze, I didn’t move from where I stood.

Bethanne’s gaze froze as she stared at Ben’s shirt, hanging askew on my otherwise naked body. Her eyes widened with shock and then narrowed with anger. My glow rapidly vanishing, I too was upset. The realization one of my employees, especially this one, knew what I had no intention of anyone knowing interrupted my bliss.

What was Bethanne doing here? I had been grateful not to have seen her for ages and I wasn’t expecting her back from Glasgow for two more weeks. In fact, the woman the local nursery had sent to fill in was working out fine. Bethanne didn’t need to come back at all.

She handed a folder with a distinctive string closure to Ben. I caught a glimpse of a scroll design on the flap, the same type I had in my office. Not that she couldn’t have a set of those folders, but I felt certain it was one of mine. 

Choosing boldness as the best response, I strode over to Bethanne, giving her a big smile.

“Good morning. Didn’t know you were back yet. What brings you around here?”

“Ellie, I meant to invite you as well, to my sister’s wedding.”

Her tone belied what she must have meant to be a smile. “Thank you. When is it?”

“Week after next.”

“I’ll take a quick look and make sure I’m not supposed to be somewhere else and let you know,” I said, infusing my voice with what I hoped sounded like genuine interest.

Her quick intake of breath told me she wasn’t buying it. 

“Yes, well, that’s fine. You can tell me later when you come in.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing today,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting you back yet and someone else has been filling in. I’m not ending her contract because you returned early.”

She ignored what I had said and looked past me. “Ben, are you going to be at the steading today?”

Ben’s brows creased. “I don’t know. By the way, next time just email me if you need to get something to me. No need to drop in.”

“Yes, but—”

He cut her short, “And if someone else needs me, they know how to get hold of me. Thank you, Bethanne.” He strode past me, placed his hand on the door, and shut it as soon as she was across the threshold.

When he turned around, I asked, “How long have you had an invitation to the wedding?”

He looked sheepish. “A few months, I suppose.”

“That’s not what she was delivering this morning, and odd if she had been.”

“No, it wasn’t a wedding invitation.”

“Then what was her visit all about?”

Ben strode toward the kitchen. I followed him and busied myself making an instant cup of coffee I wouldn’t drink, waiting for him to tell me what was going on. What was with his sudden change of mood? And what was in that folder?

 “I’m going to take a quick shower,” he said. “There’s a breakfast casserole in the oven that will be ready about the same time I’m out, and we’ll eat. Sound good?”

“Sure.” I had no intention of letting the folder issue go.

He tucked the folder under his arm and headed toward the stairs.

Waiting until after I heard the shower turn on, I pushed open the door of Ben’s room. Seeing the door to his bathroom was closed, I tiptoed across the room. The armoire’s doors creaked when I opened them, and I froze, listening. The shower was still on, but the folder wasn’t in sight. Opening the only box in the armoire, I discovered it was full of papers—no folder—and the kind of photo book crafters make, a picture of a woman and Ben framed on its cover.

Although I needed to hurry up and locate the folder, I crouched on the floor to take a quick peek inside the book. The photo book chronicled the story of the relationship between the woman and Ben. She was the woman in the photo in Ben’s old room at his parents, the woman who died in the car accident. Jessie Wilcox. What did it mean that Ben had this book?

The water stopped. The toilet flushed. Then, no sound. My heart seized and my mind couldn’t sort out what to do for too many seconds. Finally my mind fired into gear. I tossed the photo book back into the box and threw some papers on it, hoping he wouldn’t notice anything out of place.

The click of the bathroom door opening set my heart thumping. I ran as lightly as I could across the old wood floor of the hall, threw myself down on my bed, kicked the door shut with my foot—reached too far, pushed too hard. It banged, cockeyed in the jamb, and flew back. My body began an off-balance fall to the hard floor. Ben appeared in the hall sporting only a towel around his waist.

“Were you running down the hall?”

His eyes narrowed as he took in my heavy breathing and my guilty stare. My body was beyond recovery in its half-slide off the bed, caught momentarily by the edge of its frame, but still sliding toward the floor. My eyes never left his as if holding his gaze would distract him from noticing anything amiss.

“You okay? What were you doing?” he asked as he leaned against the open doorway to my room.

Breathing hard as if I had been running for miles, I couldn’t speak. His voice only held a touch of concern, no suspicion—yet.

Go with it.

“I ran and jumped on the bed to see if I could do it in one leap—don’t ask—and had a wee accident,” I said, giving him my best sheepish grin and using one of his words in a hope to amuse, attempting to end his inquiry before I buried myself. “The answer is no, I can’t . . .”

He mumbled in his accent—I couldn’t make out his words—and sucked in his bottom lip as suppressed laughter spread into his eyes. He turned away, shaking his head.

“Breakfast in five minutes; are you coming?” he asked.

“In a sec.” I lay down on the bed and stared out at the Highland scene, trying to calm down, breathe normally. But my mind was gearing up for war out of habit and instinct. I was sure that folder was one of mine. I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling there was something I should know that I didn’t. And Ben was keeping it from me.

I consumed my breakfast without a word, and Ben didn’t push a conversation.

“Think I’ll go over to Glenbroch today after all,” I said.

“You need to meet up with Henry or Jim if you do. I don’t want you over there on your own.”

I frowned. “I’m not helpless. I can manage fine.”

He looked up, a determined expression on his face. “Of course you can manage, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to know someone is with you. Could you call Henry and see where he is, work with him today?” His voice was firm and not asking a question.

“Sure.”

Pressing my lips together to prevent a snappy retort, I couldn’t deny he was making sense. It infuriated me when he was right. Plus, my nerves were unsettled by Bethanne’s appearance.

A knife scraping butter on toast, utensils banging against a plate, the thunk of a glass on the table—ordinary sounds magnified the space between us. I wanted to go off by myself and sort out my thoughts about this Bethanne business.

At least Ben wasn’t asking me a bunch of questions. He let me be and seemed almost too nonchalant. As much as I hated conflict, a part of me was itching for a confrontation. I wasn’t going to get it here or now. He wasn’t interested in fighting. If I were motivated to be more calculating, I’d use this to my advantage. I just didn’t have much fight in me either, not after . . . well, I just wasn’t interested in fighting. But my state of mind didn’t mean I wasn’t going to find out what was in that folder.

“I’ll drive you over there and leave you when you meet up with Henry.”

“Fine. I guess you can meet up with Bethanne as well,” I said without looking up.

“What are you trying to say?”

I tried to be quiet but couldn’t. “She’s pretty eager to see you over at the steading. Does she have some business with you?”

“Bethanne is a strange one. She thinks she has business with people who have no business with her.”

Looking up then, I searched his eyes. He didn’t blink or look away.

“What was in the folder?”

His jaw tightened. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“She works for me, and she hasn’t exactly made a secret about her feelings for you . . . and for me. When it comes to her, I think I have plenty to worry about.”

Ben took a deep breath and let it out, slow and controlled, before leveling his eyes on mine. “I wish I could take back inviting you on that tour.”

His statement punched me in the gut. “Is that so?”

“Aye,” he said with a nod.

My anger came to a rapid boil, and I pushed back from the table. “Why do you feel that way?”

“You don’t understand what I’m trying to say, because I’m not making a good job of it.”

“I heard you fine.”

“Listen, I don’t regret one moment I’ve spent with you. I regret my stupidity at the beginning. I damaged trust between us. The effect is in your eyes right now. One visit from Bethanne and here we are. What’s happening here is what I meant when I said I would hurt you. At Loch Ness, remember? And I have. Now I wonder if you’ll ever fully trust me or if it will always be broken between us.”

He ran his hands through his hair, clasped them behind his head, leaned back, and stared at the ceiling. “When I screw things up, I do it properly,” he said, bringing his eyes back to mine. “Don’t I?”

Start fresh. Embrace life.
I’d tried to do this when I arrived, but he had messed things up. I couldn’t help how hard it was for me to trust. I didn’t want to feel this way, to ride a roller coaster that took me down into fear, brought me up for a brief moment of hope, then plunged me practically into paranoia. My shoulders sagged with defeat. I didn’t know how to get back to the place, if I had ever been there, where I didn’t look for betrayal in a person’s every word. And Ben was right; his choices and actions in the beginning hadn’t helped.

Ben rounded the table, bent down in front of me, and lifted my face until I looked at him. The hurt in my eyes betrayed me. I wanted to appear tough and unfazed, but I wasn’t. I had been vulnerable to him from the first day and I couldn’t do a thing about it. I’d certainly tried.

“I’ll take whatever anger you’ve got. I deserve it. But no matter what you think of me, I said I would make this right, and I will. I need to sort through several issues and it will take time. I realize you may have no interest in being there, with me, on the other side. That’s your decision, but I promise you, no matter how something looks, I will not do anything to knowingly hurt you again.”

My heart desperately wanted to take a leap of faith. I nodded, silent. I needed to be brave in spite of the suspicion and fear racking my body. Why wouldn’t he tell me what was in that folder?

If trusting him turns out to be a colossal mistake, if he is playing me . . .

It did me no good to second-guess myself. I had already decided. And I would see this through to whatever end waited for me. No going back.

23

Nervous about Bethanne causing trouble with her replacement, I rode with Ben over to Glenbroch. While he was talking with Bethanne about why she showed up at his house, I checked in with the gardener from the nursery. Bethanne’s early return changed nothing; I reassured her she would be kept on for two more weeks as agreed. She said she hadn’t seen Bethanne out in the gardens but would let me know if she experienced any problems with her.

Besides touching base with the gardener, I had another motive for going with Ben to Glenbroch, and now I sidled up to the steading, leaned against the wall and cocked my ear to the cracked doorway.

“She’s nothing more than a passing fling, like Jessie,” Bethanne said.

“Don’t bring up Jessie,” Ben said, his words soaked with anger.

“It should be us, Ben. Everything always comes back to you and me, because that’s how it should be.”

I peeked around the corner. Bethanne slipped her arms around Ben’s neck. He took her wrists in his hands, leaning close to her face. “You’ve got this all wrong.” He removed her hands from his neck and placed them back at her side.

Her expression quickly morphed from surprise to anger and then to what seemed to be annoyance. “What did you need all those papers for, anyhow? Your dad has it worked out.”

“What do you mean?”

She glanced around and I shrunk back from the doorway to prevent being seen.

“He knows he can count on me. And he knows you and I are meant to be together. I’ve proven my loyalty to you and your family over and over.”

“What exactly are you saying?” I could hear the anger burning hot in Ben’s voice, as well as the strain of his efforts to control it.

“I think you’re confused right now, that’s all. Once she’s gone, you’ll get your head sorted.”

“She’s not going anywhere, and what did you and my father do? Did you force Ellie off the road?”

“First off, it’s over for her at Glenbroch. It’s all there in the paperwork I gave you. Second, I’m not saying anything except what you should already know: I would do whatever is needed to help you and your family.”

What did she mean it was over for me at Glenbroch? What was in that paperwork and why had Ben asked for it without telling me? I peered around the corner, tempted to burst in and fight it out with her or with him, or both. I pressed my twitching muscles against the wall to force them to stay put.

“Watch yourself, Bethanne. If you’re involved with my father, you’re in over your head.”

“We’ll see, Ben. When it’s all over, you’ll be glad I’m still here for you.”

She planted a kiss on his mouth, and I nearly gasped out loud. I clamped my hand over my mouth to quiet my reaction.

My muscles tensed, wanting to intervene before I witnessed Ben’s response. Another part rooted itself in place, wanting the truth no matter how painful.

Ben pushed Bethanne away. “No matter what, there will never be a you and me. And let me be clear, if you are in any way responsible for what has been happening to Ellie, you’ll be lucky if I don’t kill you. But you will pay. Now get away from me, and stay away from her!”