Worth the Wait Read online

  Tori blinked. Again. And again. Desperate to rid her eyes of the moisture that threatened to crest the spillway. Her heart thumped a wild staccato beat against her ribs.

  Get yourself under control. You’re out in the middle of nowhere. You can’t afford to be this vulnerable.

  Yet a secret longing deep inside urged her set aside her rigid habits. To let her guard down just for a moment and remember what it was like to live without the constant weight of her self-imposed armor.

  “I know you’ve been hurt in the past, Tori.”

  She closed her eyes against the compassion radiating from the man beside her, fumbling for the shield that used to fortify her so well. She couldn’t relive the past now. Not when her emotions were closer to the surface than they’d been in years.

  “I know you’re afraid of being hurt in the future.”

  She could feel him looking at her. Feel his gaze like a caress against her sleeve. Her cheek. Her hair.

  “I’ll never ask you for details,” he continued, and a tiny coil of tension unwound inside her. “Your secrets are yours to keep or to share as you will. But know that whether we remain simply business partners or someday move to a more personal relationship, I will never think less of you for what you’ve gone through. Whatever happened, you will always hold a place of highest esteem in my eyes.”

  The prickle along her arm dissipated, and she knew he’d looked away. She cracked her eyes open just enough to stare at her lap, the sensible taupe fabric of her skirt offering a much-needed anchor to the flamboyant thoughts and feelings splashing about in her mind.

  Whatever happened? Ben might think he wouldn’t think less of her, but if he knew the truth, he’d change his mind. How could he not? Her past was ugly. Slashed red with selfishness, disobedience, and willful stubbornness. Sprinkled with a healthy dose of youthful folly and naïveté. And over it all, smeared black with evil. With pain. With betrayal and abandonment.

  The only purity that escaped the blackness of that time came from Lewis. She was sure she would have lost her faith entirely had God not seen fit to bless her with a child. Through Lewis, the Lord had proven he really could bring beauty from ashes.

  As they drove on in silence, Tori prayed. Prayed that she not be so consumed with protecting herself that she failed to see the needs of others. Prayed that the man beside her would be showered with blessings in reward for his faithful kindness to her and her son. Prayed that somehow the pain that had kept her prisoner for so long would finally release its hold.

  The wagon rocked, its rhythmic sway lulling Tori into a semi-doze. Her prayers gradually faded, her mind instead filling with the verses she’d memorized the day Lewis had been born.

  “. . . he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound . . . to comfort all that mourn . . . to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified.”

  She believed with all her heart that God had sent Lewis to her for just those reasons—to bind her broken heart, to provide comfort, to turn her ashes into something beautiful that she could be proud of, to plant her firmly back in the Lord and allow her the chance to live righteously moving forward. And with God’s help, her beautiful boy had done just that.

  Or she thought he had.

  So why did she still feel imprisoned?

  Tori slanted a hidden glance at the man beside her. Could it be that God had sent her another messenger to finish the job? A rather handsome, overlarge freighter with kind eyes and a patient spirit?

  A little shiver coursed through Tori’s midsection. She named it dread, but that quiet voice deep inside whispered a different label—anticipation.

  CHAPTER

  6

  Ben did all he could to look nonchalant. Rested his forearms on his thighs as he drove. Kept his fingers loose and relaxed on the reins. Added just a touch of a smile to his mouth so his expression would give away none of his inner turmoil.

  Had he said too much? Prodded old wounds when he would’ve been better leaving them alone? He didn’t know. And the not knowing was driving him crazy. Tori hadn’t said a word since he’d brought up her past. Not even an angry one. Nothing. It was unnerving.

  ’Course he hadn’t said anything either.

  He gave his head a nearly imperceptible shake. She’d finally admitted that he might actually have a few admirable qualities, despite his male status, and he’d gone and ruined the moment by reminding her of the reason she distrusted his kind in the first place.

  Brilliant, Porter. Absolutely brilliant.

  Yet he couldn’t regret his words. She’d needed to hear them, whether she was ready to accept certain truths or not. He didn’t judge her for having a son with no husband—however that occurrence came about. Heaven knew, he’d made enough mistakes in his own life to keep him from tossing stones.

  He’d never thought it right for society to condemn a woman for bearing the consequences of a sin that obviously took two participants. To his way of thinking, any man who used a female in such a way, then abandoned her deserved society’s derision more than she did. And if the man had forced the issue against the lady’s will . . . ? Ben clenched his jaw. He’d not throw stones. He’d throw boulders.

  “Mr. Ben?”

  Thankful for the distraction from his dark thoughts, Ben straightened his posture and leaned back against the seat to close the distance between him and Lewis. He raised his chin and twisted slightly. “What you need, scamp?”

  “We gonna stop soon? Herc and I are gettin’ hungry.”

  Ben glanced at the scenery around him, getting his bearings as he registered landmarks. “I think we can manage that. If I remember right, there’s a real pretty spot by the Deer Spring turnoff. We should be there in about—”

  Tori grabbed his arm. Her nails clawed at him with such force, they nearly cut through the sleeve of his shirt.

  His gaze shot to her face. Her cheeks had drained of color. Her head slowly wagged from side to side, but her gaze seemed cloudy, unfocused.

  “What is it, Tori?” Ben whispered not wanting to alarm Lewis.

  Suddenly her gaze sharpened, pinning him to the seat. “We are not going to Deer Spring.” Her voice shook, but her grip on his arm nearly cut off his circulation. “You said we’d be taking the route to Wichita Falls. Deer Spring lies too far east. We can’t go there. There isn’t time.”

  There wasn’t time to go all the way to Wichita Falls, either, but somehow he didn’t think that was the issue. Something about Deer Spring spooked her. She had the look of a mare ready to bolt, no matter how badly she might injure herself kicking free of the stall.

  “We’re not going to Deer Spring.” Ben took one hand from the reins to cover hers where it clawed at his arm. He rubbed back and forth in a soothing motion, doing everything he could think of to calm her. “I promise. We don’t even have to stop at the turnoff, if you don’t want. We can drive straight past and find another place to have our lunch.”

  Lewis popped his head into the space between the two adults, oblivious to the underlying tension. “But, Mama, I’m hunnnngry. And I think Hercules needs to water the flowers.” He snickered at his ma’s prissy phrasing, but Tori barely blinked.

  Ben clasped Tori’s hand, peeling it away from his arm just enough to wrap his fingers fully around hers. He didn’t care about the pain from her grip, or the marks her nails had surely left in his hide. All he cared about was communicating that he was by her side. He wouldn’t leave. And he would guard her from whatever threat Deer Spring posed.

  “You can wait a bit,” Ben said, keeping his tone light. “Your mama wants to go a little farther before we stop. Maybe she can dig out a snack for you from that basket of hers.” He turned his attention back to Tori, thankful to see a touch of color returning to her cheeks. He gave h
er hand a gentle squeeze. “What do you think, Tori? Can the boy have a bit of bread or something to tide him over?”

  “A snack won’t keep Hercules from peein’.”

  Ben shot Lewis a stern look.

  “What?” The boy shrugged. “It’s true.”

  “It might be, but we don’t use words like that in front of ladies.” What Ben really wanted to scold him for was pressing the issue of stopping when it caused Tori such distress, but he couldn’t do that without causing the boy worry. Something Tori wouldn’t want.

  So, he opted for unilateral authority. “We’ll stop in about thirty minutes, scamp. Sit down and try to keep Hercules away from your mama’s boxes. We don’t want him—”

  “It’s all right,” Tori interrupted, her voice a little shaky, but her intent clear. “We can stop.”

  Ben peered at her. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “Yes.” She cleared her throat and tugged her hand free of his hold. Ben let her go, though he immediately grieved the loss of contact. “Let’s stop at the turnoff,” she said, her voice steadier now. “There’s a stream there, if I remember correctly. It will be a good place for the horses.” Her lips curved in a smile that was no doubt meant to reassure, but her eyes told the truth—she was still shaken. “We’re all hungry. And heaven knows, I don’t want Hercules watering the flowers before we stop.”

  Lewis giggled, and Tori’s smile finally reached her eyes.

  What had possessed her? Tori nibbled the edge of her bottom lip as she straightened the edges of the tablecloth she’d just spread over a grassy patch of ground near the stream. She’d known their journey today would take them in the direction of her old home. She’d made the trip to Wichita Falls before, for pity’s sake. Yet when Ben mentioned the turnoff to Deer Spring, she’d panicked.

  Tori frowned. She never panicked. Panic meant a lack of control, and she treasured control above all else. Yet she’d lost that control. For a few awful moments, the terror she’d fought so hard to abolish from her life sunk its poisonous fangs into her again. It must have been the timing. It was the only thing that made sense. That horrible man with his leering and suggestive proposition left her feeling soiled, the same way Paul had left her feeling after . . .

  Don’t think of it, Victoria.

  She grabbed the mental door to slam it closed as she always did when memories tried to surface, but this time she couldn’t quite shut it all the way. It was as if someone had stuck his foot into the door, and no matter how hard she slammed, the boot didn’t budge.

  Tori glanced over to the stream where Ben stood with his giant horses, patting their necks and talking to them as if they were people. Her heart softened a little. He really was a good man. A gentle man. That’s why she couldn’t close the door on her memories, not completely. Because Ben Porter had wormed his way into them.

  Standing up for her against the lecherous farmer. Taking her side without question, even against Lewis. When thoughts of her past life in Deer Spring had pounced on her like a mountain lion on a jackrabbit, she’d reached for him. And he’d been there. Solid. Strong. Solicitous. He’d not pulled away from her touch, even though she knew she must have left marks with the force of her grip. Heat flared in her cheeks as she recalled how he’d had to peel her fingers away from his forearm in order to clasp her hand.

  And, oh, how it had felt to have his large hand surrounding hers. Warm. Supportive. Wonderful. As if she had an ally. One who’d stand by her side no matter what came. She’d only ever felt that way with Emma and a handful of the ladies in Harper’s Station. Never with a man.

  “Keep an eye on your pup, Lewis.” Ben’s warning sharpened Tori’s focus, bringing her out of her fuzzy reverie. “Helios spooks easier since that accident a few months back. Best to keep Hercules away.”

  She remembered that accident, precipitated by the same outlaws who had tried to drive the ladies out of Harper’s Station. They’d destroyed Ben’s freight wagon, nearly killing him in the process, and had sent his horses careening off into the countryside. The black-bellied one, Helios, had fallen and been pinned to the ground when Hermes, still connected via the harness, had fallen atop him. She didn’t blame the animal for being a little skittish. Being pinned down by a hulking beast, unable to free yourself, was a horrifying experience. Tori rubbed her suddenly cool arms. One that left scars.

  Thankfully, Lewis responded quickly to Ben’s warning. He scooped up the puppy and moved a few yards upstream. Satisfied with her son’s obedience, Tori turned her attention back to the picnic arrangement and lowered herself onto the spread cloth as she reached for the waiting basket. She unpacked the ham sandwiches she’d made that morning along with a covered dish of potato salad, a dozen molasses cookies, and two canning jars of what by now was sure to be tepid lemonade. Oh, well. At least it was wet and sweet.

  “Lunch is ready,” she called.

  Ben was the first to turn. His grin set off an odd fluttering in her belly. He’d smiled at her before. Hundreds of times. So why did this one suddenly make her knees weak?

  Because he’s still got his foot stuck in your heart’s door. Better dislodge him soon before he finds a way to sneak completely inside.

  “Be right there.” He touched the brim of his hat and dipped his chin. The gentlemanly show of respect only intensified the quivering in her midsection. Battling his gallantry was hard enough, she didn’t need him to pour on the charm as well.

  Tori dropped her gaze to the basket, determined to put the man back in his proper place—outside her heart. But as she collected the flatware and napkins, her head came back up, her eyes drawn against her will to the man who threatened to circumvent her defenses.

  He led Hermes and Helios up the shallow embankment, their pace plodding and slow. The Shires remained in harness, but he’d unhitched them from the wagon to make it easier for them to graze and drink from the stream. They steadily drew nearer. Ben’s gaze locked with hers. She tried to look away but couldn’t. It was as if something inside her had remained connected to him after the episode in the wagon where she’d clasped his arm.

  A yapping echoed in her ears. Loud and shrill, but she paid it no mind. Then out of nowhere, Hercules bounded across Ben’s path. Lewis chased the pup, only inches behind.

  “No, Herc!” the boy cried. “Stop!”

  But it was too late. The pup rushed straight at Helios. The monster horse neighed in fright and reared back on his hind legs, his giant hooves flailing. Right above Lewis’s head.

  Tori screamed her son’s name. She scrambled to her feet, desperate to get to him, stumbling over the food she’d so carefully arranged. But he was too far away.

  The sharp, massive hooves descended. Lewis stood frozen beneath. Eyes wide, mouth agape.

  “Noooo!” Her heart tore from her chest.

  But in the same instant the hooves came down, a dark shadow engulfed her son, carrying him to the ground, and taking the blow upon itself.

  Ben.

  CHAPTER

  7

  Instinct demanded she run straight at the horses, but Tori resisted the deadly urge and slowed her approach. If she spooked the team further . . .

  Chancing a quick glance downward, she spotted Ben curled in a ball on the ground. Not moving. She swallowed the agony rising inside her. He would be all right. Lewis too. They had to be.

  Helios shied sideways, his hooves banging against Ben’s back and hip. The horse’s nervous dancing set Hermes to snorting and pawing as well. Fearing one of the animals would rear again and inflict more damage, Tori held her hands up, palms out, and spoke as calmly as she could manage.

  “Easy, now.” She took a step forward. “Nothing’s going to hurt you.” Another step. “You’re safe.” One more.

  The horses balked, tossing their heads and stamping their feet. Tori froze and silently begged the Lord to still the beasts like he had the waves of the biblical storm. Carefully, stealthily, she inched her way around Ben until she stood between him and t
he restless team. Leaning away from the horses’ massive heads, which hovered so close to her own she could feel the warmth of their agitated breath, she slowly reached for the cheek straps on the bridles.

  “That’s right,” she crooned. “Good boys.”

  She reached again. Her fingers closed around the harness, and she swore she heard angels singing. Probably just the rush of blood pounding in her ears as relief mixed with intimidation at being so close to such large creatures.

  “Back,” she urged as she straightened and applied light pressure to the bridle straps. Helios pawed the ground, nearly taking off her toes. Steeling herself, Tori inserted herself between the team and increased the pressure. “Back, boys.” She leaned closer to the horse on her right. “Come on, Hermes. Take charge.” She clicked her tongue. “Back.”

  Hermes took a step backward.

  Thank you, Lord.

  Helios followed, finally regaining his composure and obedient nature. She reversed their path a good ten feet before letting go of the bridle straps and easing away from them.

  “Lewis?” she called softly, walking backward several steps before trusting the horses enough to turn and hurry to where she’d left Ben and her son. “Lewis? Are you all right?”

  The puppy sat beside Ben, nosing at his midsection and whining. Tori pushed Hercules aside. “Ben? Can you hear me? I need to get Lewis.”

  No answer.

  She reached into the crevice between Ben’s arms and legs, where she spied the dark blue of her son’s shirt. “Let go, Ben,” she whispered, wincing as she jostled the brave man who had sacrificed himself to save her son. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she needed to get to her son.

  “Mama?” The tiny, muffled voice shot a healthy dose of joy through Tori. Joy and a desperate need to get him free. To hold him and assure herself that he was really all right.