Free Montana Cherries by Kim Law Page B

her of her brothers. Were all men experts at evading when they didn’t want to talk about something?
    She slipped her fingers between his, holding his hand on top of the desk and her palm flush with his skin. “How often did you see him after you moved? You were probably what . . . fifteen, sixteen when this was taken? Did you spend time at the ranch that summer?”
    A muscle ticked in his jaw, and he looked away. The hand under hers twitched.
    Finally, some of the steel in his spine melted, and she heard a hiss of air slip past his lips. “Sixteen. It was the only time I saw him alive after my mother bought a plane ticket and sent for me.”
    Sent for him.
    He’d once explained that meant she’d paid extra for a flight attendant to chaperone him from state to state. With her assistant waiting on the other side of the flight.
    “Okay,” Dani said, intuitively knowing that she needed to step cautiously. But she was going to take that step. “It must have been something important you’d gone back for?”
    Ten seconds clicked off until she was certain he had no intention of answering.
    She loosened her grip, ready to admit defeat, but he surprised her by flipping his hand over and threading his fingers through hers. He squeezed tight.
    “This was made about thirty minutes after putting my grandmother in the ground.”
    “Ben—”
    A short shake of his head cut off her words. “Grandma had suffered with Alzheimer’s my whole life, yet Grandpa never left her side. He loved her until the day she died, even though the last eight years of her life, from what he told me that day, she never once knew who he was.”
    Dani studied the picture with a new light. Knowing the man in the photo had just buried the love of his life explained the look in the old man’s eyes. It had reeked of hurt before, but now it was almost unbearable. “That’s incredibly special, you know. Finding a love like that.”
    It made her wonder about her own parents. Had they loved each other the same way?
    Did her dad love Gloria like that?
    Ben gave a simple nod. “I struggled with him letting me go when I was seven. No longer wanting me. But I understand now. He was seventy-two the day I left. My uncle had moved away, and I didn’t get that Grandpa couldn’t care for both a child and an adult by himself. Not when the adult needed more care than the child. And my mother never bothered explaining it. I was simply told one day that it was time I lived with my mom. I packed a bag, and Grandpa took me to the airport. I actually hated him when I left.”
    Dani held her breath as she listened.
    “When the call came that Grandma had passed, I bought a ticket, and was back in Montana by late that afternoon. Mom came out a couple of days later for the funeral, but only to make an appearance. She’d never been especially close to her parents, and a camera crew showed up with her. So . . .” Ben shook his head before picking the story back up. “Mom went from the funeral back to the airport, and I spent another week with Grandpa. He was so worn down from the years of caring for my grandmother, he barely had anything left.”
    “I’m sure your being there meant a lot to him,” she spoke softly, and a few more pieces of Ben clicked into place. “You couldn’t resume your relationship at that point?”
    A fleeting look of regret washed over his face. He released her hand, and clicked the picture closed. “He passed away three weeks after I returned to LA. I went back by myself to bury him beside Grandma.”
    What strength he’d had as a teenager. She was impressed.
    The look on his face said it was time to end the subject, but she couldn’t make herself get up and leave. She clasped her hands together in front of her, hurting for him. “Will you show me more pictures?”
    Maybe that would take his mind off the family he’d once thought he didn’t have, only to find out later that it had merely been circumstances out of his control.
    His