Benjamin (6 page)

Shame washed through him at what he’d done after his crime. Running had been the act of a coward. Hiding had been the act of a scared boy. He didn’t want to be either of those.

Ben stopped and dropped to one knee. “Damn.” He had to make it right. He had to.

‡

G
race hadn’t meant
to tell Ben about the threat to his family yet, but the information needed to be shared. She wasn’t worried much about the Grahams. They had a reputation for being tough as hell and had a very large family of very large men. Judging by the size of Ben, and he was the youngest, the reputation was well earned.

She was, however, worried about Ben. His eyes were glassy and unfocused while his skin was pale and clammy. She thought for a moment he was going to vomit on her boots. Somehow she led him over to a fallen log and managed to get him to sit down. When she pushed his head between his knees, she was disconcerted to notice how soft his hair was sliding through her fingers. Now was not the time to feel an attraction to the man. Or ever for that matter. Even if the memory of kissing him was one she would secretly treasure.

“Take deep breaths.” She kept her voice low pitched and kept an eye on the horses, who were taking the opportunity to munch on the sweet grass nearby. Paladin didn’t move from the spot Ben left him, while her gelding walked circles around the other horse, looking for the thickest clumps to gnaw on. It was a fitting metaphor for she and Ben as well.

Grace had been walking in circles looking for revenge, salvation, or redemption, or maybe a combination of all three. She couldn’t sit still and wait for someone else to do it for her. While Ben hunkered down and put up a shield against the rest of the world, somewhat content to let life pass him by.

Both of them were trapped in situations of their own doing.

“When I was sick to my stomach, my mother used to give me a peppermint.” His voice, low and gravelly, startled her. “She had a stash of them she thought no one knew about. The truth was, we didn’t eat them because she used them as a special treat for our time with her.”

“I think I would have liked your mother.” Grace hadn’t had a stash of peppermints, but now she wished she’d done something like that with Henry. She would as soon as she got him back. He’d have an entire jar of them.

Ben turned his head to look at her from his awkward position. “Strangely enough, I think she would have liked you, too. Trousers and all.”

Grace’s cheeks heated. “To find out the information I needed, I had to be a man. Lord knows I wasn’t blessed with curves or breasts.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” He sounded matter-of-fact. “People see what they want to see.”

Grace didn’t know how to respond so she let the comment pass. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I think so.” Ben put his face in his hands. “I can’t believe Bernadette is their mother. Jesus.”

Grace almost didn’t ask, but Ben obviously knew something that she didn’t. She couldn’t help herself from finding out what that was. “Who is Bernadette?”

“When I moved to the main house, she was the housekeeper. She kept everything running and was in charge of the other servants.” He spat into the dirt. “She was also in charge of me, kept me bathed and clothed. Made sure I was available when Pa—Ephraim Cunningham wanted company.”

Grace swallowed the lump of despair that threatened to cut off her air. She didn’t know if Dominic Cunningham had the same proclivities as his eldest brother, but Manfred had taken Henry for a reason. She’d gotten close enough to the middle brother to hear him tell stories, but she’d kept herself hidden behind her men’s attire. The urge to kill him every time she saw him had been nearly overwhelming. Now her anger had turned to cold rage.

“Some folks that were kidnapped ended up Mexico.” Ben sat up and met her gaze. “That’s one of the ways they made money. Selling people. They also sold weapons to the Mexicans during the war. They’ve been bad news in Texas for twenty-five years.”

Grace knew most of that, but hearing it aloud made her stomach twist. “We can stop them.”

He snorted. “You have a high opinion of yourself.”

“I know what’s the right thing to do. Your family has already eliminated two of the four vipers.” She knew it was the wrong thing to say when he shot to his feet with a curse.

“You don’t need to remind me of my crime.” His anger had returned with an edge of resentment.

“I wasn’t trying to. I’m trying to make you see that half the battle is won. We can’t give up now. It’s not just about Henry, although finding him is my mission. If we can stop them from doing this to another family, another child, then we must do everything we can.” Her blind need to find her son had consumed her for the last year. Hearing part of Ben’s story and putting the pieces together had opened her eyes. There was more here than Henry. There were other children taken from their families. “The Cunninghams need to be stopped more than they need to be punished for their crimes. No one should have to go through what you did.”

Ben reached out and ran his fingers along her cheek. When he pulled back, she was surprised to see tears on his thumb. “You’re crying for me?”

She shook her head and moved away. “I’m crying for every person they’ve hurt. We need to stop them.”

Ben was silent for a few minutes and then he sighed. “We need to stop them.” His repetition of her words made her heart pinch.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.” He walked toward the horses. “We might not live long enough to stop anything.”

Grace knew he was right but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try like hell. The Cunninghams didn’t know what was coming at them. The element of surprise was their biggest weapon. Theirs was a partnership forged in blood and fire, hunting monsters, and riding into hell.

*

The first rule
of being on your own was to always be aware of your surroundings. Ben had learned that from his father, and then from Matt and Caleb, his two eldest brothers. Although he’d only been five when he lost his father, Ben remembered his Pa telling him to be sharp and keep his eyes moving.

Matt and Caleb had taken it further, teaching him how to track, how to listen, how to search for signs of people and animals. Matt had also taught him how to use a gun. In truth, his eldest brother Matt had been more of a father to Ben than their pa, simply because he had died.

When Ben had returned to his family after five years of being in Cunningham’s control, it had been a dream nightmare. He’d dreamed of being home again, chasing Cat around the table at supper, riding his pony, Kickers, and listening to his mama sing a lullaby to get him to sleep. Reality was more of a nightmare because of what Ben had endured, how he’d been shaped by what was expected of him at the compound.

For more than ten years, he had buried the memories as far as he could cram them into the blackest pit of his soul. Now, thanks to Grace, who’d handed him a shovel, he was digging everything up layer by layer.

His emotional state was clouding his mental sharpness and he almost missed the sound in the distance. He stopped Paladin and held his index finger to his lips when Grace frowned at him, pulling her own gelding to a halt.

He closed his eyes and focused, ignoring the natural chatter of the forest. There it was. The sound of another horse some distance away but close enough to hear.

Grace’s brows were drawn together. “What?” she mouthed.

“Rider.” He gestured to the woods behind him. “We’re being followed.”

Ben knew if they stayed within the trees, they might lose whoever was trailing them. He also recognized the forest gave the other person a distinct advantage because they didn’t have clear line of sight. If they traveled on more established roads and through towns, they would be visible, but so would their pursuer.

He leaned in close, the horses bumping each other with some bared teeth and posturing. “We need to get out of the forest. Head for the road and ride fast and hard. We may lose him that way. If not, we get to a town and blend in, then wait for him to arrive and we find out why he’s following us.”

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Her mouth twisted and Ben was disconcerted to notice her lips were the color of raspberries. “How do we blend in?”

“That’s the part you won’t like.” He gestured to her clothes. “You need to put on some female clothes.”

Her brows went up. “Pardon me?”

“Whoever it is back there, they’re tracking two men. We get to a town and become a husband and wife. It will at least slow him down enough for us to circle back and find him.” Ben was pleased with his plan but judging by Grace’s scowl, she wasn’t.

“I have no female clothes with me. I burned them.”

“Then we buy or barter some.” He kneed Paladin into motion. “Now let’s get out of here. Fast.”

She kept up as he zigzagged through the trees and moved through the forest toward the road he knew to be a couple miles east of them. Ben had to give a bit more grudging respect for her skills as a horseman. Or horsewoman. He didn’t even know what to call her.

Regardless, he rode as fast and hard as he could for at least twenty minutes. Paladin was breathing hard but still had more in him. The gelding was stronger than he was. Ben he eased up on the reins when he saw the road ahead. He glanced behind him to find Grace ten feet back. He almost smiled. Damn, the woman had an admirable seat on a horse. Almost as good as his own.

“Let’s water the horses and then head for town. It’s time to buy a dress.” He ignored her frown and the various cuss words falling from her mouth. His sister Cat would be impressed by them. Grace knew how to curse.

After using the water from their canteens and their hands to water the horses the best they could, they followed the well-used road. There was no doubt in his mind there was a town close by. The wagon tracks were numerous and that meant they were headed somewhere.

Within an hour Ben saw the roofs of buildings that marked a town in the distance. They hadn’t spoken since their discussion about the dress. Ben wasn’t one to use subterfuge, but in this case, it could fool whoever was following them and buy them time to put some distance between their pursuer.

It was a typical Texas town with a dozen or so buildings, a farrier on one end with a stable and a corral, a hotel, and a substantially sized general store. The ranches in the area must be prosperous to maintain such an establishment.

He rode toward the mercantile then remembered how Grace was dressed. “You should stay outside while I go buy what we need.”

“Pardon? Did you just tell me to wait outside while you shop for a dress that I have to wear?” She didn’t raise her voice, but her tone was colder than a well digger’s ass.

“You’re dressed like a man. I go in there and I explain I’m buying clothes for my wife. What do you think they’re going to do when you walk back in wearing the damn dress?” He frowned at her. “It’s best if you stay with the horses in that alley.”

“How do you propose I change into this beautiful frock?”

Sarcasm was a weapon and with four sisters, Ben was intimately familiar with it. He didn’t answer her because it was a question that didn’t need to be voiced aloud. She was annoyed and wanted to rile him.

He would not be riled.

Not over something so petty as a dress. He had levels of anger he had to maintain. This was below all of them. He would get his way and she would have to accept it.

“It won’t be fancy or beautiful. With the money I’ve got, it will be serviceable.” He pulled the horse to a halt and dismounted.

She did the same and marched over to him, her face flush with annoyance. “You are highhanded but I’m going to let that pass. However, I refuse to allow you to pay for clothing.” She thrust a small leather bag at him. “That’s my winnings from horse races.”

The heft of the bag surprised him. “How much is in here?”

“It doesn’t matter. Enough to buy a nice dress and supplies you might need but didn’t get.” She took the reins of both horses and walked toward the alley, her back straight and her head high.

Ben was tempted to give her the money back, but that would be his pride talking. He had very little cash to spend. He didn’t plan on buying anything for himself with her funds, though. There was a limit to his humility.