Rocky Mountain Redemption (20 page)

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Authors: Pamela Nissen

BOOK: Rocky Mountain Redemption
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“Let her go,” Ben commanded.

“I'm telling you. She owes me.” Whiteside edged back a step. “And I intend to collect.”

Ben stalked up to stand nose to nose with Whiteside.
He placed a hand on her arm, like some warm, wonderful claim as he stared the man down. “Get your hands off her. Now.”

Callie's eyes grew wide as she shifted her gaze from Ben's calm, collected look to Whiteside's red face and his flaring nostrils. Ben obviously didn't know how vengeful Lyle Whiteside could get—especially when someone dared to cross him.

Ben drew a fistful of Whiteside's crisp white shirt in a bandaged hand. “If you know what's good for you, you'll step away and leave her alone.”

Looping an arm around her waist, Whiteside hauled her against his side. “I'm not going anywhere without my money. And if she can't pay up then she's as good as money to me.”

Ben advanced another step. “What are you talking about?”

“He's talking about a gambling debt, Ben,” she managed, her voice betraying her with a quaver.

Ben sent her a confused glance.

“It's a long story. But Max…before he died, he'd stacked up a mountain of debt with gambling losses.”

“And he's making
you
pay?” Ben nodded toward Whiteside.

She boldly met Ben's gaze. “I was working at his saloon and brothel as a cook and housekeeper to try and pay it off before I came here. But then I—”

“She was lucky I let her do that. I shouldn't have gone easy on her. She could've made me a fortune.”

Ben's calm slipped away. She could see it in the way his jaw tensed. His eyes suddenly grew sharp with anger. He drew his grip tighter around Whiteside's shirt. “Is this how you always do business? Swooping down on widows when they're still grieving?”

“She had a roof over her head and decent meals,” Whiteside barked, the words causing her stomach to churn.

The tiny closet she slept in and the pitiful, half-eaten leftovers she was allowed were a far cry from decent. That he spoke of them as though he'd let her live in the lap of luxury stirred anger from deep within.

“I suppose you gave her a clothing allotment, too?” Ben's voice was so even and hard, Callie almost didn't want to look at him.

“Why, yes. She could have the best if she'd come back and work for me.” Whiteside tugged his head to the side in a useless effort to free himself from Ben's grip. “I'm offering more than that sorry husband of hers ever gave her.”

Aaron joined Ben beside the man. Callie didn't think Whiteside stood a chance, but if he had a gun on him, then they were the ones without a chance.

“You're a sick man,” Ben confirmed.

Her skin crawled thinking of all the girls back at Whiteside's brothel, and how he'd convinced them that he was doing them a favor in taking care of them.

Aaron gave a derisive snort. “Taking advantage of this situation for your own gain…”

“Let her go,” Ben commanded.

“He owed me plenty and I'm going to collect.” He hissed a breath through his clenched teeth. “He promised to pay up with her, but he backed out.”

She jerked her head around to peer at him, her heart thudding in her throat. “What did you say?”

In spite of his bandaged, injured hands, Ben locked a crushing grip on Whiteside's hand and yanked it free from Callie.

“He must not have thought much of you, girl,”
Whiteside chided as he stumbled back a step. “'Cause he was willing to pay off his debt with you.”

“No… Oh, no…” Bright splotches of light embedded in darkness bombarded her vision. Her head spun. She tried to steady herself. “He w-wouldn't do that.”

But even as she uttered the words, she knew that Max could. And probably did. He'd done it with his own daughter.

“Said so himself,” he spat with a derisive snort. “Drunk as all get-out when he made the offer, but the idea was very tempting. Too tempting to pass on.”

Ben hauled his arm back and pummeled Whiteside's face, sending him toppling backward. An instant later, Ben was straddling him as he seized his coat so tight, Callie was sure Whiteside would suffocate.

Aaron knelt over them, his hands clenched into fists. “You said the wrong thing,” he muttered. “I wouldn't want to be you about now.”

Through the tears clouding her eyes, Callie noticed Whiteside struggling to edge a hand to his side, under his coat.

Dread shot up her spine. “He's got a gun, Ben!”

In a flash Aaron snatched Whiteside's hand and held it tight as she pulled the gun from the holster and held it in her hands.

“Get the sheriff, Callie,” Ben breathed, the pained look he gave her piercing her heart.

He had to be about ready to collapse in his weakened condition. But mostly, he'd said more than once how responsible he felt for Max's failings. This must've come as a horrible shock, as much for him as it was for her, to know that his brother would suggest such a thing.

“If Max wasn't such a white-bellied chicken and gone through with it, he might still be alive.” Whiteside
angled an intimidating, beady-eyed stare her way. “I may have felt generous enough to let him have a stab at you. For a reduced rate.”

She held her breath. Stared at the man. Max had offered her as payment for a gambling debt, just like he'd offered his own child.

But if he hadn't had second thoughts…maybe he'd still be alive.

She peered at the cold, heartless look in Whiteside's eyes. “You killed him, didn't you?” she heard herself say.

“Surely you don't think I would do that.” He raised his bushy eyebrows. “I will say, though…my establishment's a better place without him.”

Chapter Twenty

U
nless Whiteside was more forthcoming with the truth, Callie realized that she might never know for sure if Max had been shot because he'd refused to go through with his agreement.

But this was certain…Max had betrayed her more than she probably knew.

And—she swallowed hard—with his dying breath, he'd implored her to find Ben.

Even if the sting of seven years of betrayals never fully waned, she could find comfort in knowing he'd tried to do what was right before his life slipped away.

After the confrontation with Whiteside, Callie had sat for an hour in Ben's office with Sheriff Goodwin and Brodie Lockhart, answering more questions than she'd heard both Libby and Luke ask, combined. Ben had been beside her for most of the questioning, offering her his good arm for support even when he had to be cringing with the information she'd disclosed. About the last few months with Max, the night he was shot, the way Whiteside threatened her if she didn't work for him as a harlot.

Pulling her cloak tighter, she walked next door, the
crisp, early evening air invigorating her tired eyes a little. The sheriff had said that with as much time as had gone by since the murder, it might be hard to pin it on him. But the fact that he'd reached for his gun would be enough to put him behind bars for a while, anyway. Maybe with a little encouragement, the right people, those who knew the truth, would be brave enough to come forward and expose Whiteside.

There was no guarantee. But for some reason, Callie didn't have it in her to fret about that. She'd been through so much over the past days, she was spent.

And the debt…well, Whiteside wouldn't need it for a while. Maybe if he managed to wriggle free from the charges, she'd have enough to pay him back by then.

Opening the front door of Ben's house, she quietly entered. She could hear the faint sound of her daughter's sweet voice coming from down the hall.

She tiptoed in that direction and peeked through a crack in the door into the spare bedroom, where Libby had slept that night Ben and Aaron had found them on the roadway south.

Her little girl sat on Ben's lap in the sturdy, walnut rocking chair. She peered up at him, her eyes big and gaze earnest. “And what if someone does something
really
bad?”

“Like…” Ben prompted.

Callie set a hand to her lips, her heart warmed by Ben's show of patience. As though he had all the time in the world to answer her endless questions, even when he had to be exhausted.

“Well, Luke, he told me he took some doctor stuff of yours.” She traced a finger around the top button of Ben's white shirt.

“He told you that?”

She nodded. “He took 'em without asking. And then they burned. That's bad, isn't it?” Her delicate, perfectly shaped eyebrows creased in a sorry frown. Holding one of his hands up, she pressed her small palm to his. “Are you mad at him?”

“No. Luke and I…we got that cleared up a little bit ago. I understand that he was just trying to help his kittens. He knows now that he needs to ask before he borrows something.”

“And is God mad at him?” Libby tapped the toes of her new black boots together—boots Ben had insisted on purchasing. “Does He still like Lukey?”

Her throat grew tight at her daughter's heartfelt and innocent questions.

“Of course He does. He loves Luke.” Ben held Libby's chin, urging her focus up to him. “And He loves you. There's nothing you can do that will make God love you any less.”

Her big blue eyes grew even wider. “Really?”

“No matter how bad you are, no matter how good you are, no matter how old or young you are, God loves you. He loves you, Libby. His love and forgiveness is like a great big blanket that covers over every bad thing.” Ben stretched a leg out in front of him. “His love is what leads us to Him.”

She shifted to peer at him, eye to eye. “Do you think He's leading me?” She slid a serious gaze around the room. “I don't see Him.”

“I'm sure He is.”

A fleeting memory flashed through Callie's mind. Of when her own father would look at her, way back before her mama died and grief had turned Callie's happy world upside down. Death had a way of stripping life from more than just the one who passed.

“You'll know He's leading you because you'll feel it right here,” Ben promised, tapping on her chest. “In your heart.”

Tugging her dress taut, Libby angled her focus to where Ben had pointed. “Is God in there?”

He chuckled, touching a fingertip to her nose. “Only if you ask Him to live there.” Tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear, he added, “He wants to live in your heart and be your friend.”

Libby gasped. “Oh…I wanna be God's friend. Then I'll have two friends…Luke and God.” She threaded her fingers together beneath her chin, looking as if she might burst with delight. After that Ben led her in a prayer that filtered beyond Callie's ears, all the way to her heart.

“I wanna go tell Luke, then he can make God his friend, too.” Libby's giggle filled the room. Her little feet bounced with joy.

The warm look of contentment and the undeniable glow of peace coming from Ben's face shook Callie to the core.

Was that it? Could peace be that simple?

As simple as receiving God's forgiveness and love?

“I believe Luke's out in the barn with Aaron,” she heard Ben say. “Maybe you should go tell him right now.”

Libby jumped down from Ben's lap and bolted to the door, coming to a sliding halt when she found Callie standing on the other side. “Mama…guess what? God's my friend.”

“I'm so glad, honey.” Before Callie got the words out of her mouth, Libby was already halfway to the front door.

“Is it true?” she whispered in a strangled voice as
Ben walked out of the bedroom and stood beside her. “Is all that you told her true? About God's love and forgiveness?”

He ushered her to the living room sofa. “It's true.”

Callie stared at him as he sat beside her. “Do you believe that?”

“With all my heart.” He grasped one of her hands in his and peered at her. The peace blanketing his face was so tangible she was sure she could almost touch it. “You can't mistake God's love and forgiveness for the ways of His people. Sometimes they're as different as night and day. We all make mistakes,” he breathed, his eyes closing for a brief moment before he looked at her again with a reassuring intensity that nearly took her breath away. “We all react wrongly at times, but that doesn't change the way God loves us. Ever.”

Her mouth pulled tight in a quiet cry as she wondered how she could've been so wrong for so long. “For years I've thought that because I disobeyed my father and married Max, that all of the bad things that happened were because of that.” Struggling to steady the quaver in her voice, she pulled in a deep breath.

“That's not true.” He edged closer, settling an arm behind her shoulders.

She pulled the locket from her pocket, remembering how devastated she'd felt when she'd found out that Max had stolen the heirloom from his own brother. “I thought I'd never get free from paying back for the mistake, because one bad thing after another after another kept happening.”

Ben shook his head. “There's no paying back to it, Callie. We make mistakes, but there's nothing you can do to pay back for the mistake. You can only ask forgiveness—and that is free.”

“But my father's words? That God's fierce wrath is exacted upon those who disobey…” She willed her heart to slow its rapid-fire beat. “When I came here, it seemed like things started changing for me, but then the fire happened and Luke almost lost his mama and his kittens. And I almost lost you…”

“You didn't lose me, Callie. I'm right here.” He tugged her closer, his strong, capable arms around her like some mighty fortress. “And I'm not going anywhere.”

She pushed away. “Ben, what if all of that happened because I'm here?”

He steadied her quivering chin. “No, Callie. You're stubborn. You're a fighter. You're strong. But—”

“But—” She fought back a cry, hot tears stinging her eyes.

“But you are
not
that powerful.” He gave an adamant shake of his head, conviction cloaking every single word.

But could she trust them?

“All of the things you went through with Max were because of his choices. And I'm so sorry that he put you through that. You are far more valuable than that. You have to know it's true. God loves you, Callie.”

 

“His love covers you,” he encouraged as he watched one lone tear trickle down her cheek. She was so strong, even when she faced lies and betrayals that were as wounding as anything he'd ever seen. Ben thumbed away the tear, his heart clenching inside his chest. “It's unconditional. It's real. And it's for you.”

“Ben…” Uncurling her tightly fisted hand, she revealed the locket. Held it out to him. “I want you to have this back.”

“What?” He furrowed his brow.

She pulled her lovely, full lips into a determined line. “I can never repay you. But at least I can give this back.”

“No.” He held his hand over hers. “This is yours, and you don't have to worry about paying anything back.”

Callie's long lashes fluttered momentarily over her eyes. “But—”

“That debt's been paid,” he said, catching her gaze in his.

“What?” She gasped then, as if she'd been holding her breath. “What do you mean?”

“Whiteside won't be bothering you for his money again.”

The vulnerability he saw there in her wide-eyed gaze, as if she was not fully understanding his meaning, made his heart ache. He'd take care of her for the rest of his days if Callie would have him. And if he was moving too fast for her, then he'd wait. As long as she needed.

“I took care of it,” he breathed, his voice catching. “Maybe not in the way Whiteside wanted, but I've arranged to have the money owed him put toward getting those ladies out of there. Getting them some decent clothes. And maybe a place to live.”

Her brow rose in shock. She slumped against him, as if a huge weight had been removed. “Y-you did?”

“Yes.” With a slow nod, he drew her close and pressed a kiss to her head, breathing in the wonderful, beautiful scent of Callie. “You don't have to worry about the debt.”

“You shouldn't have,” she squeaked, sniffing. Squaring her shoulders.

“Yes. I should have.” He couldn't help but smile at her stubborn insistence even in the face of insurmountable odds. He didn't even want to think about the way
things could've turned out had Whiteside gotten to her first. “And I'm glad I did.”

“I'll pay you back.” Callie wrenched free from his embrace. “I'll work as long as I need to, to pay back every cent, Ben. I promise.”

“You don't understand, do you?” He held her cheeks between his hands. “I'd pay that ten million times over, then again and again and again, if it meant freeing you.”

“But, Ben—”

He settled a finger to her lips, to stop the willful protests. “I care for you, Callie. And I've learned that I can never go back and change the past. I can't change the loss of Aaron's wife and baby, or the loss of Joseph's sight. I can't change what I did or didn't do right in raising Max. I can't change the way he treated you…but I can trust God to work things out,” he breathed, tracing the full pout of her lower lip. “And I can tell you just how much I love you.”

He drew in a ragged sigh. “I love you, Callie.”

“But, Ben, I—” She stopped herself short and stared at him, as if seeing him for the first time. “You what?”

“I said, I love you. I think I did from the moment I found you on my porch.”

The soft, new glow in Callie's face was all the confirmation he needed to know that she believed him. She really believed him. And she trusted him. She was opening her heart to trust God, as well.

Ben's heart swelled with that knowledge. The softness and vulnerability in her gaze was fresh and new and wholly attractive.

“I'm crazy about you. I love you and want you to be my wife.” That wonderfully innocent, warmly
beckoning look could melt his heart. “I love you. And I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to be here for you, Callie. I'll rejoice when you rejoice and when you're sad, I'll be a shoulder for you to cry on.”

“You would do that? For me?”

“Aww, darlin'…I'd do that and so much more. And if this is all too quick for you, then I'll wait. I'll wait however long until you're ready. Because there's no one I'd rather spend the rest of my days with than you.”

“Why? Why would you give so much for me? You ransomed me—my life and my daughter's life, too, and you've done it with no thought of return.”

“Let me show you.” He gently took the locket from her hand and opened it.

Through bright tears, she stared down at the engraving:
All for love.

“Oh, Ben…I love you. I do. I love you.”

The new, tender look of peace growing on her face seemed as if to come from the inside out. As if she had finally grasped not just his love, but the higher revelation of God's love.

With his bandaged hands, he fumbled to clasp the locket around her neck once again, moved by the glowing look of love and tranquility in her unshuttered gaze.

“All for love, Callie. All for love.”

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