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Honorable Rancher
Barbara White Daille
A Best Friend's Vow The hero of Flagman’s Folly has been gone more than a year. But he still stands between Ben Sawyer and what he desires most: Dana Wright. The love of Ben’s life. When soldier Paul Wright left for the last time, he made his best friend promise to look after his wife and kids.Ben—good, steady Ben—is honoring that promise. And it’s burning him up inside. Because Dana is shutting Ben out. She wants him—so much—but she can’t afford to give in. If she does, she’ll spill her secret, and the betrayal will hurt everyone she cares about: her children, who loved their daddy; her town, which loves its hero; and Ben, who loved his friend. She'll do anything to protect her secret—even give up her second chance at happiness.
A Best Friend’s Vow
The hero of Flagman’s Folly has been gone more than a year. But he still stands between Ben Sawyer and what he desires most—Dana Wright, the love of Ben’s life.
When soldier Paul Wright left for the last time, he made his best friend promise to look after his wife and kids. Ben—good, steady Ben—is honoring that promise. And it’s burning him up inside.
Because Dana is shutting Ben out. She wants him—so much—but she can’t afford to give in. If she does, she’ll spill her secret, and the betrayal will hurt everyone she cares about—her children, who loved their daddy; her town, which loves its hero; and Ben, who loved his friend. She’ll do anything to protect her secret—even give up her second chance at happiness.
He touched her shoulder lightly. “Did you plan on sleeping in this dress?”
Dana swallowed hard. “Well, you can unbutton the top two buttons. That ought to get me started.”
Ben laughed softly, then touched the low-cut edge of the back of her gown. Her breath caught. When he undid the top button, his knuckles brushed the newly exposed skin. When he reached for the next button and the next, she closed her eyes, wishing he’d meant to set off the heat building inside her.
“This isn’t what I expected when I promised to take care of you, but I won’t complain.” He slid his hand into the unbuttoned back of her gown, pressing his fingers, wide and firm, against her. The soft material slipped down her shoulder. Goose bumps rippled along her skin.
To accompany the chill running down her spine.
“Take care...?” she repeated.
“Of you and the kids.”
She tried to keep her tone even, her voice soft. “And who did you make that promise to?”
He shifted, as if her question made him uncomfortable. A small gap opened between them, and her body cooled.
“Paul,” he said.
“Then it has to stop. As I’ve told you so many times I’ve lost count, I can take care of myself—and my children.” She tugged the lace overskirt of her gown into place. “And I think it’s time for you to go.”
Dear Reader,
I’m so glad to have the chance to tell you Ben Sawyer’s story, because it would not leave me alone.
When his best friend dies, Ben is obligated to take care of his friend’s family. He’s desperate to do the right thing...yet he has spent his life since kindergarten longing for the woman he now must watch over.
Thanks to the local matchmakers and a plan of his own, he and Dana are forced together. But his plan backfires, and he learns the awful truth in the saying “Be careful what you wish for.”
Now that Dana is within his reach, propriety and honor and a promise he made all keep him from stepping over the line. From claiming the one woman meant for him.
Writing this book, I found myself holding my breath as I waited for this honorable man to find a solution to his dilemma. I hope you find your breath catching, too, as you read this story.
Please let me know what you think of it! You can reach me at P.O. Box 504 Gilbert, AZ 85299 or through my website, www.barbarawhitedaille.com (http://www.barbarawhitedaille.com). I’m also on Facebook: www.facebook.com/barbarawhitedaille (http://www.facebook.com/barbarawhitedaille) and Twitter: https://twitter.com/BarbaraWDaille (http://twitter.com/BarbaraWDaille).
All my best to you.
Until we meet again,
Barbara White Daille
Honorable Rancher
Barbara White Daille
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Barbara White Daille lives with her husband in the sunny Southwest, where they don’t mind the lizards in their front yard but could do without the scorpions in the bathroom.
A writer from the age of nine and a novelist since eighth grade, Barbara is now an award-winning author with a number of novels to her credit.
When she was very young, Barbara learned from her mom about the storytelling magic in books—and she’s been hooked ever since. She hopes you will enjoy reading her books and will find your own magic in them!
She’d also love to have you drop by and visit her at her website, www.barbarawhitedaille.com (http://www.barbarawhitedaille.com).
In memory of F. D. White
an honorable man himself
and
as always, to Rich,
the best man for me
~~~~~~
I reckon there are many ways
to call a man a hero.
Contents
Chapter One (#ueb4e15d5-e230-51c8-904a-be3349e887f0)
Chapter Two (#u5931196c-a130-55bf-88e4-61ec92e74130)
Chapter Three (#ue747abcc-656d-505d-af3e-5144aecd223f)
Chapter Four (#uf9bcdc34-fa94-56b8-a141-60b3ee90d3a4)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.
Ben Sawyer had heard folks say that of some women. Not the one standing on the far side of the banquet hall from him, though. The one who’d done her best all day to avoid him.
Dana Wright had once worn a long white gown and walked down the aisle to meet her groom. He should know, as he’d stood up near the altar holding the ring his best friend would slip onto her finger.
Now, if the saying held true for the male side of a wedding party, he surely fit the bill.
Always a groomsman, never a groom.
Always losing out.
No sense worrying over it. He’d made his decisions a long time ago. Still, he had to fight to keep his eyes from tracking Dana’s every move.
Twirling the stem of his champagne glass in his fingers, he watched the couples two-stepping past him. After plenty of turns on the dance floor himself this evening, he’d decided to sit this one out. Every once in a while, in a gap between the couples, he could see the opposite side of the hall. Just then, he caught sight of Dana disappearing through one of the glass doors to the terrace.
The newlyweds danced toward him.
“Having fun yet?” Tess asked.
“Absolutely,” he confirmed. “Like everyone else.”
Except Dana?
Tess’s groom, Caleb, swept her away.
Ben set his glass on a nearby waiter’s tray and began circling the room. Every few feet, someone stopped him. While he always enjoyed a good conversation, the interruptions came more often than he would’ve liked right now.
Finally, he eased away from a small group and edged over to the doorway Dana had exited through.
In the light from the carriage lamps outside, he saw her standing alone near one of the stone fountains flanking the club’s entrance. He frowned and went through the door, pulling it closed behind him without a sound.
Her back to the building, she stared down into the water pooling in the base of the fountain. Lamplight and moonlight combined to make the silver combs in her blond hair sparkle. The combs held her hair up, exposing the smooth, pale skin of her neck. A row of buttons that matched her long pink dress marched down to the point where a bunch of lacy fabric covered the sweet curves of her hips.
His mouth went dry. He’d have welcomed another glass of champagne at the moment. Hell, he needed it to wet his tight throat. To occupy his hands. His fingers itched to touch those buttons now taunting him.
How had she managed to get into that dress all by herself? Would she need a hand getting out of it?
He shook his head at the stupidity—and the futility—of his questions. Of his dreams. Nine-year-old Lissa had probably buttoned her mother’s dress and would unbutton it, too. In any case, Dana certainly wouldn’t want his help. She didn’t want his assistance with anything.
That gave him trouble, in view of the promise he’d made to his best friend. A promise he aimed to keep.
For a moment, he stood there considering his next move. Unusual for him. Folks teased that he’d talk to a tree if he couldn’t find a person handy to listen to him. Yet, for the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to say.
He took a deep breath and let it out again. Not wanting to startle her, he called her name in a low tone.
Without turning to look, she raised her chin a notch. She’d recognized his voice and gone into defensive mode. Hadn’t he known she would? The sight should have made him turn around and leave. Instead, he smiled.
He never could pass up a challenge.
He ambled across the open space to stand by her side. Her head barely reached his shoulder. He caught the faint scent of a flowery perfume. When she neither lowered her chin nor looked at him, he gestured toward one of the small stone benches near the fountain. “How about you relax and we call a truce for tonight? After all, we’re here to celebrate with Tess and Caleb.”
She glanced from the bench to the country club as if assessing the lesser of two evils. “You’re right, it’s their night.” With a small sigh, she took a seat.
The bench proved narrower than he’d expected and put him closer to her than he should’ve risked, truce or no truce. Their arms touched. Their elbows bumped. It would have made sense for him to wrap his arm around her shoulders. They were friends, weren’t they? But once he’d touched her, could he keep it at that?
Her expression softened. “Caleb went all out for Tess, didn’t he?”
“Renting the biggest hall within a hundred miles of Flagman’s Folly? I’ll say. Good of him to invite all the folks from town to the wedding, too.”
“He seemed surprised that everyone accepted. But I know they wanted to wish him and Tess well.” She smiled softly. “Tess makes a beautiful bride.”
You did, too. Without missing a beat, he changed the words that had come so quickly to him. “You’re looking good in that maid of honor dress yourself.”
“Matron,” she said. “Being a widow makes me a matron of honor.”
Which makes you a woman alone with three little kids. So, why won’t you accept my help? He couldn’t ask that tonight. Not after he’d called for a ceasefire between them. He probably wouldn’t ask that ever, as nine times out of ten, the shots came from Dana’s side of their conversations. She’d never acted so defensively with him before Paul died.
“What is it they’re calling Nate again?” he asked. Nate was the bride and groom’s nine-year-old tomboy and the best buddy of Dana’s daughter Lissa. Like the girls, Tess and Dana had been best friends all through school.
“A junior bridesmaid.” She laughed. “Nate stopped fighting over wearing a dress the minute Caleb said he’d get her a pair of boots made to match his. She held her ground about being a flower girl, though.”
