He looked quickly and then away again as he apologized. “Sorry.” Ben kept his head turned and asked, “You need some help or something?”
“Ben? Ben Erickson?”
That caught his attention. She knew him. He did his best to keep his eyes above her shoulders. She pulled her shirt back on then opened the car door and stood behind it so he couldn’t see her lower half.
“Maleah?” Oh yeah, he knew that face. He couldn’t believe he didn’t recognize her sooner.
She was the only girl in all of his childhood who had so much exotic mystery, good looks, and smarts. They had been in the same class since she moved to Three Peaks in the first grade. They had been friends in elementary school and got along okay in middle school, but that was where their friendship had taken a turn. He didn’t remember exactly why or what happened, but by high school they no longer acknowledged each other’s existence. That was only partially true. He knew she was still around. There was no ignoring Maleah Hale in a graduating class of one hundred and fifteen students. To Ben, she stood out in a crowd, and she had been at the top of their class. She’d won at least three scholarships and was given awards at every academic school function. And he hadn’t seen her a single time since high school graduation.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked.
“This is not what it looks like,” she said with an air of horrific misunderstanding.
The tomato-red flush on her cheeks could have been from all the exertion, but Ben was fairly certain there was plenty of embarrassment in her color.
He licked his lips and hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “Well, it looks like you’re suffering from brainworm, to be honest.” Ben shrugged. How could he pass up the opportunity to make her squirm a bit more? He couldn’t and added, “I called the sheriff before I got out of my truck. Based on my description, I suspect an ambulance is coming as well.”
“What? No!” She made a sound like she was jabbed with a hot poker and jumped backward. Maleah hefted herself onto the hood of the car, pulling her feet up and wrapping her arms around her shins protectively. A second later, she yelped again and jumped back off.
Ben rushed forward with her scream, intent on assisting or saving her. From what, he didn’t know, but her pain was obvious.
She held a butt cheek in each hand and cried out, “Ow! That’s bloody hot! Oh my gosh!” As she rubbed her skin, Maleah stared at the hood of her car as if it’d personally assaulted her.
He hardened his jaw in an attempt to keep from laughing.
“Now I’m burned too.” She craned her neck around to stare at her backside.
Ben looked too. Who wouldn’t? Red ovals rosied each cheek, and it was a glorious thing to behold in the near perfect evening light. “Black paint gets pretty hot. We’re about to lose the sun for the evening. Then you’ll be all right to sit up there.” The corners of his mouth twitched as he held back a laugh.
“That’s real sage wisdom, Ben. And stop looking at me like that,” she scolded. “This isn’t funny.” She ducked inside the car and began ranting. “My tire is flat and a stupid cow stole my skirt. But these horrible, awful—”
He cut her off. “Yo. Hold up.” Ben raised a halting hand. “A cow stole your skirt?” His gaze shifted to the field beyond the barbed wire fence about seven feet from the car. There wasn’t a cow to be seen. The fields belonged to the Donovans, another ranching family in the valley. Like the Ericksons, the Donovans also raised and bred Herefords.
“Yes! Give me a minute to find some pants.”
“But why aren’t you wearing shoes?” Ben tipped his head to the side and watched Maleah unzip a small suitcase in the back seat. He needed to clear some things up before he could move on.
“Because I threw them at the cow!” she said as if this was obvious and reasonable.
“Right,” Ben agreed and wondered if it were possible that Maleah could be even crazier than his ex. Maybe it was something in the water. The three of them had grown up together after all.
“Would you like help with your tire?”
She turned in the seat as she stuffed a long, slender, and pale foot into a pant leg. Maleah glanced up at Ben. “It would be a lot more helpful than watching me get dressed. Did you really call the sheriff’s office?”
“Nah,” he admitted.
She frowned, and Ben grinned. Damn. Maleah Hale had grown into a gorgeous babe, and all that bare skin was distracting to say the least. He pivoted, both physically and mentally. His brain was fixed on helping her with her pants more than the flat tire. He rounded the back end of her small SUV to take a closer look at the problem. What the hell am I doing? I don’t ogle women. Although he might start if Maleah was back in town for any length of time.
Ben married Kinsey the summer after high school graduation. She was pregnant, and he’d done the right thing by her and their baby. The opportunities to perfect his skills at being a pig hadn’t presented themselves all too often. Ben had never been interested in other women. Kinsey was his first and only love. His daughter was the second. He’d vowed to be a faithful husband and he’d meant it. Too bad Kinsey hadn’t felt the same.
Maleah continued speaking from inside the car. He thought she was warning him about the skirt-stealing cow again, but he only heard a few words. His mind was alternating between the vision of a half-naked Maleah and the way her painted toenails had the ability to make his body and mind respond in ways he hadn’t experienced since before he was married. How the hell did a cow steal her skirt? Ben was distracted and he needed to focus on the tire.
The spare tire lay on the ground, and she’d put the jack in place and inserted the crank handle. Ben knelt down to make sure she’d placed the jack against the chassis. Everything looked good and the lug wrench lay on the ground nearby. He cranked the handle a couple times and then he caught sight of Maleah approaching the fence.
“What are you doing now?”
“I want my sandals back,” she tossed over her shoulder at him. “Did you hear what I said about the—” But she was facing away from him and too far away, so he didn’t hear the last part of her question.
Still thinking he could be the hero of the day, Ben stood and joined Maleah at the fence.
“Where are your shoes?”
She pointed and he squinted at the pasture. Sure enough, there was a brown leather sandal on the ground.
“The other one is a little farther up the hill.” Maleah adjusted her hand a few degrees. “I’m hesitant to go in there after hitting the cow in the head with my shoe.”
“You actually hit it?”
“Yeah. He didn’t enjoy it either and bolted over the hill. I don’t know where he’s at now. I didn’t want to hurt him; I wanted him to stop nibbling my skirt. The stupid cow ran off with my skirt stuck to his face.”
Ben eyed Maleah with skepticism as he tried to picture the scenario she described. She smacked his stomach with the back of her hand.
“Don’t give me that look. I swear it’s true. I couldn’t make this up if I tried. It was one of my favorite skirts too,” she said.
Her look of bafflement mixed with disappointment were the only reasons Ben bought her story.