Sunset at Keyhole Canyon: A Mustang Ridge Novella (6 page)

The next morning, part of Nina was grateful Ben hadn’t stayed the night—not just because it made her think he was really serious about making things work back home, but because it meant he didn’t see her get misty-eyed as she tucked her purple boots under a layer of denim that wasn’t stiff and new anymore.

She wasn’t leaving him behind, she reminded herself. She was just leaving the ranch and taking a week of wonderful memories back home with her . . . along with the promise of something new and exciting in the city. Still, she couldn’t stop from hesitating before she packed her rustler’s bandana and zipped her suitcase.

She was sad to leave her cabin, sad to shut the door one last time.
You’ll be back next year
, she told herself, and that helped some. But at the same time, her thoughts threatened to skip ahead to her return. Where would she be then? So much had changed in a week, what more would be different a year from now?
Don’t go there. You need to take it one step at a time
.

“Not to mention, you need to get a grip,” she said aloud, and headed for the main house, trying not to let her feet drag.

A mountain of luggage sat near the bus, but the parking lot was deserted, the rest of the guests at breakfast. She added her bag to the pile and turned toward the dining hall, but then an instinct had her stopping and turning back.

And she saw him.

Ben stood leaned up against the back of the bus, arms crossed over his chest as he watched her from beneath the tipped-down brim of his Stetson. In jeans, a dark T-shirt, and boots that had a layer of dust on them, he looked every inch a cowboy. Every inch hers.

“Hel-lo, gorgeous,” she murmured to herself as she crossed to him, heart singing.

“Good morning yourself, gorgeous.” He caught her hands and drew her in for a warm kiss that was growing more familiar, but felt different each time. Now, it was achingly tender, sending a poignant pang through her body.

When it ended, he pressed his forehead to hers and held her a moment longer, as if he, too, was caught between wanting to stay right there, and wanting to make the break and prove their relationship would work. “You sure you don’t want to ride back with me?”

She hesitated, but shook her head. “No, thanks. I’d like to leave the way I came in.” Sitting next to Traci with her face pressed to the one-way glass. “It seems like the right thing to do.”

He kissed her brow. “When can I see you again?”

And there it was, the question she had wrestled with more than she had expected during the night. It was tempting—too tempting—to meet up with him tonight or tomorrow, to pick up right where they left off and keep the momentum going. Instead, after a brief pause, she said, “I think Friday would be nice.”

“I think tonight would be better. Tomorrow. Monday at the latest.”

The low, intense statement made her feel better, confirming that she wasn’t the only one dreading the lonely week ahead. “Yes, it would . . . but I want us to have the week to shake off our vacations.”

He exhaled, but then nodded slowly. “Then Friday it is. I’ll pick you up after work.” He paused. “Can I call you in the meantime?”

“I hope you will.”

“Good. That’s . . . good.”

“Hey, Nina?” Traci popped her head around the corner of the bus, looking sheepish. “Sorry to interrupt, but breakfast is over, the bus is loaded, and Junior is about ready to go. You coming?”

“I’m . . .” She tightened her grip on Ben, but nodded. “Yes, I’ll be right there.”

As Traci disappeared, Nina made herself let go of Ben and take a big step back despite the ragged pressure in her chest.
You’re fine without him
, she reminded herself, surprised that a big part of her needed to hear that, be reminded of it. But she was starting to think that while she might be fine without him, she was much, much better with him.

“So . . .” She forced a smile. “I guess I’ll see you.”

“You will.” It was low, fervent. He pulled her in for a hard, possessive kiss. “You better get moving.”

“I know. I’m going.” But she went up on her tiptoes and kissed him again. Then she let go with a last, lingering squeeze, and made herself walk away. At the corner of the bus, she stopped for a last look back, and found him still standing where she had left him.

He lifted a hand, but didn’t say anything. She waved back, trying not to let it feel like good-bye.

Traci had saved her seat on the bus, and gave her a one-armed hug of sympathy as she sat. “You okay?”

“I’m . . . Yeah, I’m good.” She was a little surprised to find that it was true, even as she pressed her face against the glass to watch Ben. He stood beside his SUV, arms folded, watching the bus. His eyes were trained on her, even though she knew he couldn’t see through the tint.

It hurt to leave him, but they needed to take this home, see if it would work when they had more demands on their time, more complicated decisions than whether to ride out or go fly-fishing.

Engine revving, the bus got underway, taking a wide circle around the parking area. Nina watched Ben until she couldn’t see him anymore, until they rolled through the iron archway that marked the edge of the homestead and spelled out “Mustang Ridge” in welded horseshoes.

As the gates disappeared into the distance, her phone vibrated, startling her, as she hadn’t gotten reception most of the week. Hadn’t missed it. She thought about ignoring it, imagining the messages that had piled up while she was gone. But on a suspicion, she checked the cell.

Sure enough, there were a bunch of messages, but the last one was the one she wanted. It was a text from Ben. It said:
I’ll see you Friday after work. I promise
.

By Friday afternoon, Ben was strung tight with anticipation. He wanted to see Nina, wanted to be with her, touch her, talk to her, and prove to her that things between them were solid, that what had happened between them at the ranch wasn’t just a vacation fling—it was the real thing.

“You okay, man?”

Startled by the question, he swung around in the wide hospital corridor to where Dean Mills, his friend and lucky-dog coworker with the great family, had stopped to stare back at him. “I’m fine. Why?”

“You were whistling.”

Ben laughed. “I was? What song?”

“Sounded a little like
Home on the Range
. You still in vacation head?”

“Try weekend head.” Ben stretched his arms wide. “I’m off shift in an hour, not back on until first thing Monday.” Which meant sixty-some glorious hours free to spend with Nina.

Dean’s eyebrows climbed. “You’re taking an actual weekend? This have anything to do with the lady from the ranch?”

“I’m seeing her tonight.” His feet moved in an almost-dance that he managed to suppress.

“You’re sunk.” Dean was grinning, though. “Congrats, man. Now, don’t mess it up.”

“I won’t.”
No way, no how, not this time
, he told himself, repeating it to himself over the next hour as he checked in on his patients and made a few follow-up calls, including one to confirm their reservation at Chester’s Barbecue.

He doubted it would come close to Gran’s cooking, but figured it was worth a try. If nothing else, Nina would get a kick out of the talking taxidermy. Chester’s wouldn’t usually be his pick for a romantic date, granted, but there was nothing usual about Nina, or the way he felt about her. He could be himself with her, take her to his favorite places and not worry about impressing her or being Dr. Sullivan. He could just be Ben—heck, she liked him better that way.

Whistling, he checked his watch and headed for the main desk.

“Ben!” He turned to find Dean headed his way under full steam. “I need you.”

“No, you don’t. I’m leaving. In fact, I’m already gone.” But his gut clenched with an
oh, hell
. He knew what that look meant. “Talk to Delbridge. She’s on duty as of five minutes ago.”

“Sorry, man. Crack-up on the Ten, she’s stuck behind it, and we’re getting the casualties. The ER is sending up a bunch for surgery, at least one who needs you bad.”

“They . . . Okay, right.” Admitting defeat, Ben took a deep breath and shifted gears with the ease of long habit. But where it usually wasn’t a problem, now the gears stuck and squeaked, and a large part of him wanted to downshift and peel out of there. He couldn’t do that to the patients, though. With a wave toward the break room, he said, “I need to call Nina, tell her I can’t make dinner.”

“She’ll understand.”

“She . . .” He exhaled. “Yeah. Of course.” But understanding wasn’t the same thing as signing on for missed dates, late dinners, and not being able to depend on him to show up. She’d been honest about that from the get-go.

Dean gripped his shoulder. “She’ll understand,” he repeated firmly. “If she doesn’t, then she’s not the right woman for you. This is what we do, Ben. It’s who we are. Yeah, it’s important to balance family with the job, but the balancing act goes both ways. I make time for Michelle and the kids, and they work around me when necessary. If it’s meant to be with the dude ranch lady, then she’ll understand.”

“Eventually, sure, but right now—” Ben broke off and shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll go make the call.”

He found a private corner while the intercom came alive and feet started hurrying in the hallway as teams assembled for the incoming crash victims. And, dang it, his call went to voice mail.

“Ah . . .” He wanted to hang up, wanted to go find her in person, tell her face-to-face that this wouldn’t happen every week, or even every month. But the elevators pinged and opened, and he caught terse snippets of information that said the first patient had hit the floor. “This is Ben.” Which she no doubt knew from caller ID. “I, uh, I can’t make it tonight. There’s been an accident, multiple victims—” He bit off the excuses. “I want to be there, Nina, I swear. I’ve been looking forward to it all week. Talking on the phone just isn’t the same thing. I want to see you, be with you, hear you laugh . . .” The intercom blooped and called his name. “This isn’t more of the same from me. You’re more important than that, I swear. Just . . .” He didn’t want to say “give me another chance,” because this had been his second chance, maybe third. “Don’t give up on me, okay? Please. I don’t want to lose you.”

He disconnected, afraid it wouldn’t be enough. Half convinced it shouldn’t be.

“Ben?” Dean’s hail came from out in the hallway amid the pounding feet.

“On my way,” he called back, and shoved to his feet. But as he headed back to work, there was little of the usual excitement. He was confident he could help the patients, but far less sure he could help himself. Not this time. Not with Nina.

The surgery—his part of it, anyway—was intense, but didn’t take all that long, and the wall clock put it just shy of nine p.m. as he stripped off his gloves and gown, and emerged back into the muted hustle of his home turf. But where before the familiar space would have settled him, reminding him that he was exactly where he was supposed to be, doing what he was meant to do, now he sorely wished he was at Chester’s Barbecue with Nina. Or, better yet, back at the ranch, where things had been so much easier than they were out here in real life.

But that was the point, wasn’t it? Vacation romances were one thing. Real relationships were another. Nina had known that all along. He could only hope she was willing to let him prove he knew it now, and was committed to doing the work. He wanted to believe she would give him that chance, that she would be willing to try. In the end, though, he just didn’t know, which put a leaden fist in his gut.

Stopping at the first landline he came across, and not caring that he was out in the open, with busy figures in scrubs and lab coats eddying around him, he dialed an outside line and punched in her number, muttering under his breath, “Come on, baby, pick up. Please, pick up.”

But it went straight to voice mail, like she had already put him on “Ignore.”

Hating the clutch in his chest, the crushing disappointment that she might have already given up on him, on them, he headed for his office. It wasn’t too late, he told himself, not for tonight and not for them. He wouldn’t let it be. He’d go over to her place and talk to her, he decided as he pushed through the door into his office. And if she didn’t want to talk to him, then—

He stopped dead in his office doorway, heart lurching at the scent of barbecue and the sight of Nina stretched out on the daybed, reading, with a Stetson and takeout arranged on the coffee table beside her.

•   •   •

Any last little doubts Nina might’ve had vanished the second he stepped through the door. An exquisite expression—of relief, delight, excitement—flooded his handsome face, mirroring everything she felt inside.

Her heart gave a nervous flutter-flutter, just like it had when they had talked on the phone during the week, only a hundred times stronger. She wanted to jump up and run to him, hold him, touch him, do all the things she had missed doing since they left Mustang Ridge. Instead, suddenly shy, she set her book aside and stood, twining her fingers together. “Hey, there.”

“Nina,” he said, voice rough with emotion. “You came.”

“Yes. I, ah . . . I got some food for us. Barbecue. Figured you could use it after such a long day.”

“Dinner’s nice, but what I really needed was you. And now you’re here.” He reached for her.

And suddenly it was easy to go to him. She gave a little laugh, broke free, and lunged for him. He caught her, swept her up and held her against him as he whirled around. For a second she was back on the ranch, square dancing to Ty’s lively fiddle playing while she teetered on the edge of something huge and important. Then Ben held her away from him, grinning down at her, and she was very aware of their surroundings.

There was no open sky, no huge mountains or patient mustangs waiting for the signal to ride out. In their place were cool blue walls, diplomas and books, in a décor that would’ve been cold and perfunctory if it hadn’t been for the framed photos of him with Cheryl and their parents. And, on his screen saver, the picture Traci had taken of the two of them on horseback, leaning in for a kiss and framed by white-capped mountains.

“I’m here,” she said into the side of his throat, snuggling close and feeling like it had been forever. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He exhaled a long, rattling breath. “I was afraid this was it. That you wouldn’t believe in me anymore.”

She smiled against his skin. “You’re not the only one who’s learned a few things recently. And lesson number one is that I know I’m important to you, even when you get busy with your patients, and when that happens—like tonight—it’s not because you’re taking me for granted, it’s because someone else needs you and there’s no way you could get coverage and feel good about it.”

“You’ve got that right.” He tightened his arms around her, touched his lips to hers. “You’ve got it exactly right.”

And exactly right was how she felt, there and then, wrapped in Ben’s arms and tasting his kisses. She stroked his hair, touched his temple, and the fine lines beside his eye. “You must be exhausted. Do you want to take your dinner home and pick up another night?”

“Yes and no.”

“Oh?” He stepped away, snagged the bag of takeout, and held out a hand. “Yes, I want to take dinner home, but no, I don’t want to pick this up another night. I want you to come home with me. I want you to stay with me. I want . . .” He swallowed. “I want this, Nina, with you. Please say you want it, too.”

A bubble of joyous laughter rose up in her chest and pressed at the back of her throat as she crossed the room and took his hand. “I do. I will. Whatever. I want this with you, Ben. We’ll make it work.”

His laughter rang off the walls, making it seem for a second that they were back at Mustang Ridge, in the echoing confines of Keyhole Canyon. Then he kissed her and she kissed him in return, and it didn’t matter where they were, only that they were together.

“Come on. Let’s go home.” He swung her around and ushered her out the door, and as they swept along the hall, he dogged her heels, pretending to herd her like a slow elk, and making her laugh until she felt like she would burst with love, hope, and the excitement of things to come.