“Do you people not want me in the patrol?” he bellowed. “This is the second time no one has come to notify me when something important is going on!”
“You live kind of out of the way,” Mike pointed out, though it was obvious he was struggling to be reasonable. “And I didn’t know what was going on until I got here. We don’t have phones, remember, and everyone who is here is someone who heard the gunfire and came to check. No one notified anyone, we didn’t single you out. Besides, by the time we got here, it was all over and whoever was trying to steal the gas had left.”
“But you’re still here, keeping watch. Someone could have come to my house.”
“That’s true, though we aren’t exactly keeping watch.” Mike sighed, and glanced toward Sela in an obvious plea for reinforcements.
She sighed, too, and got to her feet. She was the acting community leader, so she had to act. She went over to them. “While everyone was here—”
“Everyone wasn’t here, is my point!” Ted barked.
“It’s a figure of speech.” She paused and reached for patience, which wasn’t as accessible as it usually was. “While we were here, Trey decided to see if the suction pump would work. It didn’t. Ben went back to his house to get some parts, came back, and they got it working.” Hoping he could be redirected, she said, “Why don’t you pull your car up to the tank and get some gas now, there’s no point in waiting.”
He paused, and for a few seconds she hoped the redirection had worked. Then he looked around and said, “What about everyone else? I’m not the first in line.”
“Almost everyone here already had a full tank, me included.”
“Almost?”
“A few have topped off their tanks, and filled some fuel cans.”
She might as well have said they’d handed out hundred-dollar bills, and all he was going to get was a couple of ones. “Thanks for waiting for me,” he said sarcastically.
“Ted. We’ve pumped out a small fraction of what’s in the tanks. The community patrol gets it first. You’re in the community patrol. Some members were ahead of you, some will get gasoline after you.” She could hear her voice getting tight, her words clipped, but damn this had been a tough night, a tough two nights with a stressful day sandwiched between them, and normally she didn’t even think this way but stroking his ego was way down on her list of things to give a shit about.
“Only because I set my alarm,” he said, still seething at the perceived disrespect. “Otherwise I’m sure you’d be glad to see me sitting at the end of the line and hoping you run out of gas before my turn.”
“Don’t judge everyone by yourself.”
“Who are you to tell me how to think? I know how I’ve been treated by the people here, all of you have made it plain I’m not welcome.”
“That isn’t true. Your help is welcome.”
“Of course it is.” The sarcasm was back, heavier than before. “That’s why you insist on trying to do this job even though you’re clearly in over your head, even when it’s obvious anyone else here could do it better. A smart person would have set up a way to contact people, a smart person would have asked for advice and listened—”
Over Ted’s shoulder, Sela saw Ben’s head turn at the raised voices, saw his eyes narrow. In almost the same instant he had assessed the situation and was coming toward them, his gaze focused on Ted, his chin lowered and every line of his body saying that he was about to kick ass.
Her own chin lifted. She might have needed help when a bunch of people were shooting at her, but she didn’t need help handling Ted Parsons. Once again, she’d had enough. A faint red mist was forming in her vision, and she found herself visualizing punching Ted in the mouth, and relishing the idea. Instead, in a voice that seemed to come from outside herself, she said, “You know what, Ted? You’re welcome to the gas, but as for the rest of it—” She stopped, and shot her middle finger at him, so close to his eyes they crossed a little as he focused on it.
His mouth opened, closed, opened again. He sucked in an outraged breath. Then, evidently realizing he couldn’t do anything he wanted to do or say because everyone else there would turn on him, he wheeled around and stomped away.
She’d never given anyone the middle finger before, not even when she was driving.
She turned around and saw Olivia gaping at her. Then the girl began grinning, and gave Sela an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
Strange how two digits on one hand could have such completely different meanings. Aghast at herself, she pressed her hands over her face. Twice now in twenty-four hours she’d lost her temper and been rude to people.
Then Ben reached her, and stopped less than a foot away. “Say the word, and I’ll hurt him for you.” As always, his nearness seemed to create a force field around them that made everyone else dim in her perception. It felt as if the two of them were insulated in a bubble. Perhaps he didn’t feel it, perhaps this was an effect of the strength of her attraction to him, but having him close by made everything feel . . . right.
“Thank you, but that isn’t necessary.” She sighed. “I kind of feel sorry for him, because he’s such a butt and doesn’t know why people don’t like him. His wife is nice, though.”
He looked down at her, that raptor gaze roaming over her face, touching briefly on the small bandages covering the cuts. “You look like you’re almost too tired to move. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep? We’ve got things covered here. After the gasoline is taken care of, I’ll go over security organization with the patrol, then come tell you about it.” He glanced around and located the dog, curled up by Olivia. “After I take the dog to the old couple.”
She started to refuse, because she kind of felt as if it was her duty to stay, but then she saw how exhausted Olivia looked and knew she probably looked as bad, if not worse. She put her hand on his arm, loving the steeliness of him under her fingers even through the layers of his shirt and thick coat. “Are you certain about the dog? We can find another one for the Livingstons.”
Ben looked at the dog again, and a brief flicker of regret might—might—have passed over his expression before being banished. “Yeah, I’m sure. All of the attention will be good for him, and he’ll be good for them. It isn’t as if I won’t be seeing him, because I’ll have to do some extra hunting and take food down for them. They sure can’t feed a growing dog without help.”
And he was accustomed to being alone; that went without saying.
Correction: he’d been accustomed to being alone, but that had changed. Even though he was taking the dog to Jim and Mary Alice, he’d still be checking on the Livingstons and on the dog. However unwillingly, he’d also forged a connection with her, and she’d discovered she could fight for what was important to her. Ben was important, more than she’d ever anticipated.
Not only that, without effort the valley men had opened ranks and accepted him into their company, and the only way he could extricate himself now would be to move completely out of the county. Given the circumstances and how difficult travel was, that wasn’t going to happen. He was a natural at thinking strategically, in seeing what was an urgent source of danger and what wasn’t.