This is a work of fiction, using characters from the film, “3:10 to Yuma”.  No insult or invasion of privacy or infringement of copyright is intended. The story is for readers over the age of 18 only, and contains adult language. The writer is not responsible for any "discomfort" caused to the reader by this language and these situations.

Unexpected Opportunity

©2008  by:  Layne Richards

PART THREE

Lacey woke early the next morning, having slept little the previous night.  She put on an old worn dress and put up her hair.  Gardening was hot work.  She figured she'd work until noon and stay in the shade the rest of the day.

Down in the kitchen, she made coffee and cooked biscuits and ham.  After eating a bite, she went to the bedroom door.  There hadn't been a sound from the room so far this morning, and she hated to wake Ben.  She opened the door hesitantly and went in.

Ben was still sleeping, looking as handsome as she remembered from last night.  Finding a scrap of paper, Lacey left a note for him on the bedside table, telling him there was coffee on the stove and breakfast in the oven.  If he couldn't manage on his own, he should call her in from the garden.

As soon as she was out the door, she drew a bucket of water from the well, and went to the barn to see to the horses.  Ben Warner's horse, a beautiful black animal over sixteen hands high, was in the stall next to her own brown mare.  Lacey fed and watered them both, then turned them out into the paddock, adjoining the barn.

Taking the hoe and rake from beside the barn door, she went to the vegetable garden near the house.  The beans were up; the corn was growing nicely; the tomato plants looked as though they'd start blooming any day.  But they all needed weeding and hoeing. 

She put on her gloves, starting with the end row of beans, and did the weeding first, moving down the row on hands and knees as she pulled out the sometimes stubborn weeds.  She finally finished that and started the hoeing. 

All the while she was working, Lacey thought about Ben Warner.  Thoughts of him kept her distracted, and made the work seem to go faster than it usually did.  Lacey was two rows away from being finished, and the sun had nearly reached midway in the sky, when she heard his voice.

"Sweetheart, you're workin' too hard.  And you're makin' me feel like a bum."

Lacey swung her eyes toward the house.  Ben Warner was leaning on the sill of the open bedroom window, a cup in his hand.  "Come have a cup of water.  It's the least I can do, seein' as how I'm not up to comin' out and helpin' you with that."

Embarrassed by her hot, sweaty face and the dirt all over her, Lacey walked over to the window.  The cup of cool water could not be resisted.  And neither could the man who held it.

When she had finished with the cup, he handed her a cool, wet cloth to wash her face.  Gratefully, she leaned against the side of the house for a minute, using the cool cloth on her face and neck.

"Looks like your garden is havin' a good year," Ben observed, looking at the long, neat rows of plants.

"Much better than last year."  Lacey nodded shyly, aware of his eyes on her.  "We've had some relief from the drought over the winter and spring." 

She wiped her face again with the cloth.  "Now, if we could just get some relief from this heat!"  Lacey looked at him.  "Aren't you hot in those long johns?"

"Now, darlin'."  He looked at her with his knowing grin.  "I know you want me out of 'em, but I hardly know you!"

Blushing furiously, she shot an angry, flustered look at him.  How could he have known she was thinking about what his chest looked like without them?!  "I do not!  You think you can read minds now, Mr. Warner?!"

"No."  Ben chuckled at her discomfort.  "But I do make a habit of studyin' people.  It helps me get the upper hand in--in business dealin’s."  He'd almost slipped up.  Almost forgotten that he was supposed to be a rancher and not a robber.

"Must get tiring for you," she said, with another touch of sarcasm.

"Oh, I'm used to it," he replied non-commitally.  "Besides, it's more fun with women.  And the reasons for doin' it are much more--personal," he drawled.

Abruptly, Lacey pushed away from the side of the house, feeling even more uncomfortable after that last remark.

"I have to finish up these last two rows."  Determinedly, she started back toward the garden.  "Then, I'll make us some sandwiches."

"Why don't I do that, while you finish up?" Ben asked her.  "Mebbe I won't feel so much like a bum.  I ain't too domestic, but I oughta be able to put together a coupla sandwiches."

"Well-  If you're sure."  Lacey wiped her brow with her sleeve.  "The bread's in the cupboard and-"

"I'm sure I can find everythin', darlin'.  You finish up, so you can come in outta that sun."

She worked quickly, anxious to do as he said and get in out of the sun.  When she had finished, and put away the rake and hoe, she started for the house.  At the bottom step, Lacey stopped short, seeing Ben standing in the doorway, waiting for her.

"You look hot and tired, sweetheart."

"I am," Lacey admitted.  "I could really stand a bath in the creek."

"So, why don' we go have ourselves one?" he drawled, grinning.

"Not on your life," she shot back at him.  "Besides, that wound isn't healed enough for you to go in the water."

"Then mebbe I'll just watch."  His eyes ran up and down the length of her body, making her shiver even in the heat.

"Absolutely not!"  She was growing more flustered by the moment.  "I thought you were supposed to stop talking to me like this!"

"I can't, sweetheart.  I'm havin' too much fun."

"Can we just, please, eat now?  I'll worry about bathing later."  Lacey quickly washed her hands and face.

They sat down to the sandwiches Ben had made.  As they ate, they made small talk about the garden, the horses--anything she could think of to keep her mind off that bath in the creek--with him watching!

"What was your fiancé’s name?"  Ben asked the question quietly, out of the blue.

Lacey had to focus for a moment to form her answer.  "Tom.  Tom Wells."

"And he worked for the railroad?"

"He had hired out to them as a guard.  Said he could make more money than he ever could farming or ranching."

"How'd you meet him?"  Wade was focused completely on her, noting her reactions to his questions.  She seemed to be uncomfortable talking about the man she had been about to marry.

"At a dance in town.  When I lived there while I was teaching school," Lacey replied.  "Can we not talk about this any more?"

"Why don't you like talkin' 'bout him, darlin'?" Ben asked softly.

"I just-  don't."  Her voice was short.  She pushed back from the table.  "Now that we're finished, you need to get some more rest.  I'll clean up here."

"And what about that bath?"

"Oh!  Will you stop?!  I'll take a bath when I'm good and ready!"

"Okay, darlin', but I hope it's soon."  He was teasing her again.  "You sure got dirty out there this mornin'."

Lacey threw a dish towel at him, which hit him square in the chest.

"I must be losin' my touch," he said, with mock regret.  "A woman's chasin' me off to bed, and she's not comin' with me."

"I'm sure you'll get over it," she told him drily.

"Maybe.  But if you want to rethink havin' that bath later-  All right, sweetheart.  I'm goin'," he said, as she picked up another dish towel.

When he had closed the bedroom door, Lacey quickly washed up their few dishes.  Then she got his clothes--all clean and dry now--and got to work mending the bullet holes in his shirt and vest.

Lacey was an excellent sewer.  Her ma had taught her to sew well when she was only a little girl.  But holes like these were no easy task.

His ranch must be successful, she thought to herself as she worked.  His clothes were fancy for a rancher.  She'd noticed the embroidery on his black pants.  His shirt and vest were of fine materials, as was the velvet coat he wore.  And his hat.  She'd never seen a rancher wearing clothes like his before.

Finally, she was satisfied that she had done her best.  The mended places were all but invisible.  Then, she sprinkled and ironed them, humming to herself as she worked.  When they were completely finished, she tiptoed quietly into the bedroom and laid them over the chair, waiting for him when he woke.

She couldn't resist watching him for a few minutes as he slept, careful to stay a few steps from the bed, as she remembered him catching her watching him yesterday.  Where he seemed almost totally relaxed when he was awake, in sleep he seemed troubled somehow.  His brow furrowed as though he was worried.  Lacey wondered if he had bad dreams, and resisted the strong urge she felt to lay her hand on his forehead--to try to smooth out those furrows and help him relax.

At last, she tore her gaze from him and left the room.  Deciding to take that bath in the creek while Ben was still asleep and couldn't tease her (or watch her!), she gathered a towel, a wash cloth, and clean clothes.

Although she normally enjoyed a bath in the cool, clean water, today she was jumpy.  Kept thinking she'd heard noises and half-expected Ben Warner to step out of the bushes on the bank at any minute.  She bathed and washed her hair as quickly as she could.

When Lacey got back to the house, she sat on the front steps and brushed her hair, letting the sun dry it.  She wondered if Ben liked her hair.  Tom Wells had never said anything about it, but then he hadn't been the most expressive man. 

Unlike Ben, she thought to herself.  Not only was he expressive with words and his eyes, but several times she'd seen him sketching in a small, brown leather notebook.  She'd wondered what he was drawing, but she hadn't yet worked up the courage to ask if she could see it.

Lost in thought, Lacey sighed as she leaned back on her hands, tilting her head backward so that her almost dry hair could flow down her back.  That was when she saw him behind her, standing in the doorway, smiling.  Quickly, she sat up.

"Oh!  You startled me!  I didn't know you were up."

Ben was dressed in his own clothes, the blue of his shirt bringing out even more the startling blue of his eyes.  He was smiling at her.  "Even injured, I can't sleep all the time.  I'm just not used to layin' around so much." 

He came over and dropped to the steps to sit beside her.  "You have beautiful hair, Lacey," he murmured, picking up a strand of it and caressing it between his fingers.  "It feels like silk, and the sun lights it up.  I'll bet it's beautiful in the moonlight, too."

Those eyes were holding hers, and she felt as though she were drowning in them.  Feeling lost and not knowing what to say, she put her hand up toward his face and ran the tip of one finger gently over the crescent-moon scar beneath his right eye.

"How did you get this?" she asked softly.

Ben Wade thought back to that night, more than a year ago, when Byron McElroy had given him that scar.  McElroy had beaten him severely in the face with a rifle butt, after he'd killed a man named Tucker--one of the men taking him to meet the prison train to Yuma.  After all this time, he could admit to himself that, although he had killed Tucker for taking his horse (and for being such an asshole), he had also killed him for burning Dan Evans' barn.  Dan had been one of only a few men for whom he'd ever had any respect.  But he couldn't say any of that to Lacey.

"In a fight," he said, his voice somewhat thoughtful, and a shadow passing through his eyes.  "Man hit me with a rifle butt."

Looking into his eyes, Lacey couldn't help but see that shadow.  Her fingertip still tracing the scar, she asked, "What were you fighting about?"

Ben reached up and took her hand, removing it from his face.  "What every fight's basically about, darlin'.  I did something I thought was right.  He thought it was wrong, and that I needed to be punished for it."

"What did you do?"

"It's not important right now, sweetheart.  Mebbe I'll tell you about it later."  Ben was still holding her hand, and now he began running his thumb in light circles over her palm.

Lacey was amazed at the feelings that light touch aroused in her.  She felt breathless, excited.  His face was only inches from hers and she so wanted him to kiss her-

"You know, darlin'," he said casually, smiling.  "I think I'm feelin' up to takin' care of my horse this evenin'.  Why don't you start us some supper, and I'll go feed the horses and put them away?"

Her disappointment plain on her face, Lacey drew away.  "All right," she answered shortly.  "I'll have something ready in just a little while."

"No hurry," Ben told her, smiling at her with his lips and with his eyes.  "I'm gonna take this slow and easy, so I'll be awhile."

"Be careful," she told him.

Why had he not kissed her, she wondered, as she got to work in the kitchen.  He had wanted to.  She had seen it in his eyes--those beautiful, wonderful eyes that drew her like a magnet.

Did he think she was too young?  He'd mentioned the kind of women he'd been around.  Was it her lack of experience that bothered him?  Maybe it was just that he saw her as a simple farmer's daughter--not pretty enough or exciting enough for him.  A million possibilities nagged at her as she went about cooking for them.

Chapter Four