Love As Big As Texas Read online

  "Yeah, well, you aren't the one having to marry her, are you?" Ben snarled.

  "Want some coffee." Helena suggested, with an understanding smile.

  Helena was maybe ten years older than Ben. She was a handsome woman and Ben had often thought he might have her, but it never happened. Despite his rough demeanor, Ben respected Helena. He respected all women.

  He looked from her long black hair to her sparkling black eyes and wondered why he had never touched her. Today…she looked good.

  He knew the answer. She was half in love with his father.

  She brought him a cup of coffee, and laid out a towel for him.

  "Thanks…" He grinned when he put his hand in the water. "Want to wash my back?" He tempted.

  "I think not! Now hurry up, you only have a couple of hours…until the stage." Helena gathered the dirty laundry on the floor and started to leave.

  "You too? You are in cahoots with my father on this? I can see it in your eyes." Ben frowned as he brought the towel to the tub and began to undo his clothes.

  Helena smiled, her eyes moving from the top of his brown hair to the scuffs on his boots. "Si, a wife will make you a happy man again."

  "I'll make her so miserable she won't want to stay here." Ben threatened.

  Helena's smile faded and she came closer, her face screwed up into a disproving frown. "I truly hope you do not mean that. Your father has faced much sorrow, and so has this lady. I would hate to think you would hurt him or her so. It would not be your mother's wishes." Helena filled the tub with piping hot water.

  Her words stopped him cold. Dear God, Helena was right.

  Ben stared at her rounded hips, and her long black braid running down her back. She was an attractive Mexican woman; he wondered why she had saved herself for a man like his father.

  "Well…look what he is trying to do to me! Picking out my wife for me, if I wanted a wife…" Ben slurred his words.

  Helena rolled her eyes, interrupting his tirade. "I laid out some clothes for you. When you are dressed perhaps, you can think more clearly. Do not hurt your father, he is a good man, and he knows what he is doing." Helena warned.

  "I might have known you'd take his side. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were in love with my father."

  The smile on her face faded again and she avoided looking at Ben any longer.

  "My God, you are!" Ben laughed. "Well I'll be damned. And he doesn't even have a clue."

  However, the laughter hurt her, and for a second Ben felt the guilt stab at his heart, as she turned tearful eyes on him. Helena had been more than a maid all these years. She had come here as a young woman. Ben never noticed how much she catered to his father until today. Now it all fit.

  She dashed from the room.

  "Helena, I'm sorry." Ben yelled.

  Ben stripped his clothes and got in the claw-footed tub. He leaned back, resting his head on the curve of the tub. "I'll show him. I'll treat her so bad, she'll run away." He murmured to himself and let himself relax in the warm waters.

  Still, Helena's words echoed in his mind. "It would not be your mother's wishes."

  Chapter Two

  Ben stood in the streets of Pecos City, waiting on the stage. It wasn't noon yet and the temperature was already hot enough to make one sweat. He'd cleaned up and was mildly curious as to this Gabrielle Campbell lady. The woman had a lot to gain by coming here, and Ben had a lot to lose if he didn't marry her.

  Now that he'd sobered somewhat, he could understand why his father was so adamant about the woman. His father was trying to tame him down. He knew he'd been living on the edge lately. He'd neglected his work on the ranch too. Yet, he never expected this from him. He'd planned on straightening up soon, he just hadn't gotten around to doing it.

  He didn't need a wife, or a kid.

  Somewhere deep within him he wanted to stop drinking, stop mourning his folks and go on. But he and his father had never gotten along well, and there seemed nothing worth living for. The house was so quiet now that his mother and sister were gone. It had become merely a house to him, not a home. A home was filled with laughter, with love, not this hollow shell.

  He'd come up with a plan to run her off, but the more he thought on the idea, the less he liked it. He'd never mistreated a woman in his life. He liked women, but his father forcing one on him, especially one he hadn't even met yet was too much. Yet, if he went ahead and married her, his father wouldn't give her the ranch in his will, and he'd have his home for the rest of his life. Maybe he could just cheat on her and stay married to her. Although cheating wasn't in his nature either. He liked women, all women, but the word wife stuck in his craw. There was something about the word marriage that bothered him.

  Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad, but she had a son too.

  Ben liked kids, but this one wasn't his, and he'd have to claim it.

  He wrestled with his thoughts this morning. It wasn't the best of mornings for a wrestle of any kind. His head pounded.

  At one time in his life, when his mother and sister were alive, he'd had values, and morals and a conscience. Now he wasn't so sure. He'd hadn't put himself to the test since their death.

  And perhaps it was time to find out.

  He had no idea what to expect from this woman.

  Just then, one of his drinking buddies spotted him and yelled at him from across the street.

  "Ben, I thought you went home." George Swenson staggered toward him. George wasn't a bad sort, just another drunk. He'd once been an employee of the bank, but when he tried to embezzle money from the bank, Al had caught him and fired him. Ever since he had become a drunk, a no account, as his father had labeled him. He lived off the sympathies of others. Today Ben stared at him and saw a different man. Had he become like George?

  What was wrong with him? Had he gotten up backwards or something? Nothing looked the same today. It was as if he could see through the friends he had made lately and he didn't like what he saw.

  "I did. I’m just meeting the stage." Ben frowned, wishing George would go home before the stage came. He didn't need a witness to what was about to transpire. He needed time to assimilate the whole thing and figure out how he was going to handle this woman. Trouble was he had a splitting headache and he couldn't think straight. Already, he was at a disadvantage.

  "Want to go get a beer, while you wait?" George asked.

  "No, not right now. I'll see you later."

  George eyed him a moment, his tall lanky body leaning on a post outside the stage office.

  "You're turning down a beer? What the hell is wrong with you?" George shouted so everyone could hear.

  Aggravated that George didn't take the hint, he turned on him. "I'm busy right now."

  "You don't look busy." George glanced around him.

  "Well I am, go on and have yourself a beer."

  "You…meetin' someone on the stage?" George eyed him curiously.

  "Yeah…"

  "Who is it?"

  Ben whipped around and came up on George as though he thought about drawing his gun. George backed up a bit. "All right, I'm goin'." George frowned at him. At least he knew when not to push his luck.

  Several people stared at him, but Ben didn't know them and didn't care what they thought. He was stone sober right now and things looked differently to him.

  He shaded his eyes as he thought he heard the whip hollering down the street.

  Sure enough, the stage pulled into sight and stopped just a little in front of him. Dust clouded his vision at first.

  Ben backed up and gave the people inside the coach room to get out.

  He waited.

  Two businessmen got out, then a woman, and a young boy. That was her. It had to be, she was the only woman on the stage.

  Ben couldn't see her face as she was helping her son down from the stage. He did see long blond curls hanging down from her hat. Her dress wasn't the latest style, and looked worn and frayed. She was thin as a rail, and had the tiniest of w
aists. He stared at her for a long moment, since her back was to him.

  The boy jumped down with enthusiasm. Like her, his clothes were worn and tattered too. He could see where she had mended his pants several times at the knees. Ben realized that his father hadn't exaggerated about the woman's needs. Unless this was some scheme to play on his sympathies.

  "Come on Jimmy, there must be someone here to meet us." The woman commanded gently, as she turned around and lifted her skirt to climb the stairs to the boardwalk.

  Ben's mouth hung open. Despite the fact that she was rail thin and almost gaunt looking, it didn't disguise the fact that she was lovely as a spring morning. He swallowed hard. She had the prettiest eyes he'd ever seen, very blue, and almost—sad looking. Her face was delicate and her skin flawless. Her son had the same blonde hair, and eyes.

  He studied her for a moment, wishing he knew more about her. But that was before good sense had him straightening and looking away. Being cornered into an arranged marriage wasn't how he got to know a woman.

  When she almost brushed his arm passing him, he had to turn and follow her. "Ma'am, are you Gabrielle Thompson, I mean, Campbell?"

  "That's right, are you from the Crooked W Ranch?" She asked hopefully, her glance skittering quickly over his face and clothes.

  "Yes ma'am." Ben almost frowned. It wouldn't hurt not to tell her who he was, he might find out more about her and her son if he didn't. "My friends call me Sparky."

  "I'm pleased to meet you. I'm Gabrielle Campbell, but my friends call me Gabby. And this is my son, Jimmy. Are you here to take us to the ranch?" She asked with a slight smile.

  Her smile was genuine and heart stopping beautiful. Her smile was like letting the sunshine bear down on you on a early summer morning.

  "Yes, ma'am, I am." He tipped his hat and looked at the little fella. The boy was skinny as a rail. "He looks sleepy."

  "He is, he tried to sleep on the stage but the gentlemen were talking the whole trip and kept waking him. Not to mention the ruts in the road. He's very tired. I'm so glad he sent a cowboy to help us, gives me time to plan what I want to say to him…"

  Ben's eyes narrowed on her. Had she changed her mind, and thought better of the marriage? Ben perked up a bit. Oddly enough, he hadn't considered that she might have an opinion about this marriage. He hadn't contemplated her feelings on the matter. Still, she was here, that said a lot.

  "I have a buggy right down the street." Ben motioned. Did the woman have other plans? He could hope.

  "I'm so glad; it was a long ride in the stagecoach." She sighed heavily. "I thought Ben Wyler might meet me and Jimmy, but I guess he was too busy."

  He took hold of her valise and carried it to the buggy, stowing it behind the rig. She watched him with interest.

  All the while his mind was on the fact that she only carried one small valise for the both of them, there were no trunks of clothes for them.

  Once he was finished, he helped her son and her into the buggy. She was light as a feather. The boy stayed close to his mother.

  "It's very warm today?" She flushed.

  Ben smiled. He usually had that affect on women, however, this was one woman he wasn't intending to impress. No, instead, he wanted to know more about her and exactly why she had agreed to marry a complete stranger.

  "You worked on the Crooked W long?" She asked when they were outside the town.

  "Yeah, quite a while, actually." He smiled.

  "I haven't seen Mr. Wyler in a long time." She muttered nervously. "He was my father's closest friend."

  "That was Harold Thompson, I guess?" He asked.

  "Yes, of course…" She answered. "How far out is the ranch? It's been a while since I've been here." She asked, putting her arm around her son who was obviously falling asleep once more. Either he was very bored, or very tired one, Ben thought to himself.

  "About fifteen or so miles." Ben answered. "You staying long?"

  Gabrielle seemed a bit nervous, she shrugged. "I really don't know. It could be a shorter trip than I thought."

  "Why is that ma'am?" Ben asked.

  "I'm to marry Ben Wyler…that is—if he is in agreement." She quipped flatly. "And I'm not at all sure how he feels about it. I'd like to find out beforehand, but I guess that isn't possible. It's an arranged marriage and before I settle in, I'd like to know how he feels. People should have a choice in these matters, don't you think?"

  Ben glanced at her, and she seemed nervous as a cat. But the fact that she actually considered his feelings made him pay attention. "Yeah, I agree, ma'am. Been a while since you seen him or something…you seem a little nervous or is that just the bride being nervous?"

  "I've never met the man, that I can remember." She revealed just as flatly. "His father arranged the marriage, and that's why it's important for me to speak to Ben. If he's not in full agreement with this, then I will be leaving this evening. And yes, I'm very nervous. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing."

  "You've never met your intended?" Ben tried to act surprised.

  "I don't think so. I'm not really sure. I lived here when I was young, I might have gone to school with him, but I can't remember him. I certainly wouldn't know him now. I know his father, though. I have no idea how Ben feels about it, and that is what is making me so nervous…" She tried to sound calm, but her hands shook as she held them in her lap. "I'm sure he thinks me a gold digger of some sort. But actually all I want is a home for my son. I have no expectations of the marriage."

  "Well, I'm sure…." Ben started to reassure her a bit, but she butted in.

  "That's why I wished he had met me at the stage. So I could talk to him, before I see his father. It would give me an advantage knowing how he felt about it."

  "You sound reluctant." Ben mused.

  "In some ways I am, in others I'm not." She admitted. "The arrangement is meant to help both me and his son. I would have a home for myself and my son, and the young Mr. Wyler, would keep his ranch. His father said he is a drunk."

  "Did he?" Ben tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "How do you feel about that?"

  "Well, is he?" She seemed to study him for a moment, as she waited for his answer.

  "Yes."

  "I see. Usually there is a reason for a man to drink. I guess it would depend on how far gone he is. And if he is a mean drunk."

  "Far gone?"

  "Well, when one drinks heavily, they can become dependent on it, have to have it. Drinking also changes one's personality to some extent."

  "Do you know a lot about men who drink?" Ben scrutinized her.

  "To some degree. My husband was a drunk. He drank because he was a failure, in his own eyes. Others drink because of a loss, a death of some kind. And some drink because they are cowards and can't face life. I don't know what Ben's story is, but I suppose his father thinks he's salvageable."

  "What happened to your husband?" Ben asked curiously.

  He saw her hands fold into her handkerchief. "He tried to jump a man's gold mine claim; the man shot and killed him." Gabby exclaimed. "It was ruled self-defense."

  "You talk about him like you didn't care much about him." Ben stared at her from the corner of his eye.

  "He was my husband and my son's father, I respected that, but love can fade away easily when the bottle takes over a man. Another reason I am apprehensive about this wedding. Once my husband took to drinking he was never the same."

  "He didn't love you?"

  "No…" She burst out, and Ben was staring now. "He was much older, and wanted a young wife who could produce children for him? How much farther?"

  "Another half hour at best." Ben whipped the buggy into a trot. "But you did produce a child, and you are young."

  "Yes, well, it just didn't work out." She fretted.

  "I don't understand?" Ben frowned at her. "Why did you stay with him?"

  " I guess I don't consider divorce an option. I take marriage vows as sacred. But, that's another long story. Are you well acqua
inted with Ben Wyler?"

  "I am."

  "And in your opinion, would he make a good husband?"

  "He's never been married. So it would be hard for me to say."

  "So you don't think he would?"

  "I'm not sure I can answer that fairly."

  "That's a very truthful answer."

  He quirked his head, and frowned. "If you have so many doubts, why are you here, Ma'am?"

  If she really had doubts, why did she bother coming at all?

  "I have little choice myself. My father disapproved of my first marriage and we had a riff. I didn't leave home on the best of terms. Turns out, he was right about Frank. I did my best to be a good wife to him. I cooked, cleaned, took care of Jimmy. I was faithful and loyal. However, I'm afraid my efforts went unnoticed. Now…this so called marriage…It's the answer to my problems, but…it might not be the answer to Ben Wyler's problems. I don't know the man, and I don't know what he'll think of me. Probably the worst, that I’m some gold digger, wanting his father's ranch. That couldn't be further from the truth." She reassured him. "The only reason I'm considering this is to keep my son."

  "Keep your son?" He repeated dully. "I don't understand, you are his mother, aren't you?" Ben sobered a bit with this news.

  "Yes of course." She replied, glancing at him once more. "It's complicated."

  "You just don't seem eager to marry the man." Ben answered, wondering why he was taking her side, and realizing that what she said was the truth. She didn't look or act like a gold digger.

  "Eager no, desperate yes. Can you tell me a little about Ben Wyler? I really like to know more about him." She asked. "If he wants to go through with this marriage, I'll be the best wife I can be…If not, I must leave at once. I'll accept his decision as final. I want him to know as far as I'm concerned, he has a choice."

  Ben wasn't expecting her to be so generous. The woman was desperate, but she still considered his feelings in the matter. This woman was complicated. He couldn't figure her.

  "Well, he's reasonable to look at." Ben laughed to himself. "He's intelligent. He has manners. But…he's not the marrying kind. Or at least he didn't used to be." Ben corrected. "He does drink a lot, but he's not a real drunk I wouldn't say. I mean, it's not like he's got to have a drink all the time. He doesn't have to have the drink, putting it simple he's drowning his troubles."