To Take a Chance

by Rochelle Alers

  “Yours or mine?”

  Renee did not know how, but she knew what Sheldon was feeling at that moment. The doubts, questions as to where they and their relationship were heading, and if what they shared went beyond sharing a bed and their passion.

  Closing her eyes, she affected a secret smile. “Yours.”

  Sheldon lowered his head and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. In that instant all that made Renee Wilson who she was seeped into him, becoming a part of him.

  It had taken three days away from her, three days where he and three of his best friends had gotten together for their annual fall camping weekend, to remind him what had been missing in his life.

  The wild bunch, as they’d called themselves, had become longtime friends who left the farm to kick back for several days of male bonding. They fished, hunted, cooked, smoked cigars, drank beer, swapped war stories and talked about the women they’d loved and lost. These men had become the brothers Sheldon always wanted, but never had. They were his confidants and his conscience.

  However, this year it was different, different because although he had brought women to the cabin, none of them had touched the part of him that ached for more than a physical release. None of them were able to make him look beyond the basic human need of food, shelter and clothes for the one thing every human being needed for ultimate survival and perpetuation of oneself: love.

  He’d stopped trying to rationalize why Renee had come to him carrying another man’s child beneath her heart. Why her and not some other woman, unencumbered by her past. And why did he feel so completely helpless whenever he thought about what she needed most: a husband. Jeremy’s parting cryptic statement was imprinted on his brain: “look at what you have, and what you could hope to have.”

  He had enough money to last him well into old age, had transferred a horse-racing legacy to the next generation and had set aside ten thousand acres of prime property for his grandchildren. He had everything a man could ever hope for—everything but a woman to share his future and the dreams he had for the second half of his life. Every time he opened his mouth to say the two most blissful words a woman yearned to hear, they died on his lips.

  He remembered his mother on her deathbed begging his father to “marry” her before she drew her last painful breath. And, although James Blackstone knew he was breaking the law and could have been sent to jail, he had married the woman whom he had loved.

  Let go of the fear, his inner voice whispered. Renee wasn’t Julia and he was no longer a thirty-two-year-old single father with two young sons who depended on him for their daily needs. Marry her, the voice continued. And if he did marry, Renee and her daughter would become Virginia Blackstones, a name with clout and influence.

  Walking into the bedroom, he placed her on the king-size bed. The side of the mattress dipped with his weight as he sat beside Renee. A loud pop, followed by a brilliant shower of burning embers behind a decorative fireplace screen threw macabre shadows on the whitewashed ceiling and walls.

  Leaning over, Sheldon quietly, seductively removed and then placed Renee’s clothing on the bench at the foot of the large bed.

  Renee did not open her eyes as she luxuriated in the gossamer touch of Sheldon’s fingertips as he sculpted the roundness of her swollen belly before moving up to trace the outline of her engorged breasts. One hand slipped between her knees, moving upward and parting her thighs as it traveled toward the source of heat and the soft throbbing making it almost impossible for her to lie motionless.

  Reaching for his hand, she held it against her moist, pulsing warmth, unable to stop the moans coming from her constricted throat. If Sheldon did not take her—quickly—it would be over within seconds. His finger searched and found her. It was his turn to groan when her flesh convulsed around his digit.

  Pulling back, he sat on his heels and pulled the sweater over his head. Within seconds his slacks and underwear were pooled on the floor. Gently, he shifted Renee until her buttocks were pressed to his groin. He rested her top leg over his, then eased his swollen flesh into her, both moaning in satisfaction as their bodies melded as one.

  I’m home, the scalding blood in Renee’s veins sang. It wasn’t the modest house where she’d grown up in a Miami suburb; it wasn’t the shabby apartment where she’d lived with her mother and brother after her father’s untimely death; it wasn’t the small condominium apartment she’d bought after working two jobs to save enough money for the down payment; and it certainly wasn’t the palatial beachfront mansion with views of the Atlantic Ocean and passing luxury yachts and cruise ships in the distance. Sheldon Blackstone was home and everything the word represented: love, safety, comfort and protection.

  Closing her eyes, she tried concentrating on anything but the hardness sliding in and out of her body. Her heart rate skyrocketed along with the uneven rhythm of her breathing. She experienced extreme heat, then bone-chilling cold that made her teeth chatter. Sheldon had set a pace that quickened, slowed, then quickened again until she was mindless with an ecstasy that had become a mind-altering trip shattering her into millions of pieces before lulling her back to a euphoric state that left her weak and mewling as a newborn.

  Sheldon clenched his teeth as he fought a hopeless battle. He did not want to let go—release the passion streaking along the edges of sanity. He wanted the whirling, swirling sensations to last—forever if possible. The passion Renee wrung from him hurtled him to heights of erotic pleasure he had never experienced before—not with any woman. He quickened his movements, mindful of the child kicking vigorously in her womb, then went completely still as he moaned and poured out his passions in a flood tide that made him forget everything.

  They lay joined, waiting until their hearts resumed a normal rate. Sheldon moved once to pull the sheet and blanket up and over their moist bodies, then as one they fell into a deep sated sleep.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Renee slipped out of Sheldon’s bed early Thanksgiving morning, retreating to her old bedroom to shower. She hadn’t slept there since the night of her bidwhist party with Kelly, Tricia and Beatrice.

  Her daily routine had changed since she’d begun sleeping in Sheldon’s bedroom. She retired earlier and woke up earlier. Weather permitting she usually took a morning walk. And what Sheldon had told her about additional security around the perimeter of the farm had become apparent whenever she spied a man sitting on horseback with a rifle resting in the crook of an arm or slung across his chest.

  Dressed in a bulky sweater, stretch pants, boots and a baseball cap, she set out on her walk. A haze hung over the valley like a diaphanous blue-gray veil. Although a national holiday it was not a farm holiday. Horses had to be washed, groomed and turned out into the paddocks for daily exercise.

  Her early morning walks were now a part of her daily exercise regimen. The added weight had put pressure on her lower back, but since she’d begun walking it eased.

  Forty minutes and a mile later, she stood in front of one of four barns where the thoroughbreds were stabled. Several grooms were hosing down horses. She spied Shah Jahan as he stood motionless under the stream of water sluicing over his ebony coat. She couldn’t pull her gaze away from the long arching neck, noble head and the sleek powerful lines in half a ton of regal horseflesh. Jahan had raced twice since the International Gold Cup, and had come in first both times. The scorecard with Jahan’s racing statistics read:

  Owner: Blackstone Farms

  Trainer: Kevin Manning

  Sire: Ali Jahir Dam: Jane’s Way

  Starts: 3 Wins: 3 Earnings: $1.2 million

  What had most people in the world of thoroughbred racing wagging their heads was the fact that Shah Jahan had yet to celebrate his second birthday.

  Nodding to the grooms, Renee walked into the barn. The sounds of stalls being swept out reverberated in the large space. The sweet smell of hay masked the odor of sweat, manure and urine.

  She stepped aside just in time to avoid a ball of black and white fur
scampering around her feet. Leaning down, she picked up a tiny puppy. It wiggled and yelped as it struggled to free itself.

  “To whom do you belong?”

  “No one, Miss Renee.”

  Turning on her heel, Renee stared at Peter McCann, a teenager whose pleasant looks were neutralized by an outbreak of acne.

  “Is he a stray?” she asked.

  Peter nodded. “His mama whelped a litter about six weeks ago. Dr. Blackstone has already given away four. He’s the only one left. Doc already gave him his shots.”

  Renee smiled at the large black eyes staring back at her. “What breed is he?”

  “Mutt,” Peter replied, deadpan. “His mama is part lab and sheepdog. Don’t know about his papa. Lady Day must have snuck off the farm when she was in heat and found herself a man. She didn’t come back until she was ready to whelp. Now that she’s weaned this last one Dr. Blackstone plans to neuter her. He claims we have enough dogs to keep the horses company.”

  Sheldon had explained to Renee that most horse farms kept either dogs or goats as pets to keep the stabled horses, which are by nature social animals, company. She did not know why, but she felt an instant kinship with the puppy.

  “I think I’m going to take him home with me.”

  “He’s going to be a big one, Miss Renee. Take a look at his paws.”

  She looked at his paws. They were rather large for a small puppy. “If he’s part sheepdog, then he’ll adapt to staying outdoors.”

  “None of the farm dogs come inside, except when it snows. If you’re going to take him home, then I’ll get a leash for you. I’ll also bring over some food after I finish up with my chores.”

  Renee gave him a warm smile. “Thank you.”

  It wasn’t until after she had attached the leash to the collar around the puppy’s neck that she thought about Sheldon. Would he even want a dog in his house? Had his sons grown up with pets?

  She hadn’t had a pet of her own since her mother was forced to sell their house and move into an apartment where the landlord had posted a sign prohibiting pets of any kind.

  The puppy tired, stopped and sat down. Squatting, she picked up the dog, cradling it against her jacket. She’d just walked past Jeremy and Tricia’s house when she saw Sheldon striding toward her. A sensual smile curved her mouth. He had a sexy walk. His back ramrod-straight, he swaggered, broad shoulders swaying from side to side.

  Slowing her pace, she smiled, stopped and waited for him to approach her. He’d elected to wear a flannel shirt with jeans and a pair of worn boots.

  She’d seen him dressed in a tailored suit, a tuxedo and jeans with a pullover sweater or cotton shirt, and she liked him dressed down best. The casual attire seemed to enhance his rugged handsomeness.

  Her smile faded the moment she noticed his stern-faced expression. “Good morning.”

  Sheldon’s gray eyes swept over Renee, lingering momentarily on the puppy cradled against her chest. “I thought because it wasn’t a work day you’d stay in bed beyond daybreak.”

  “I enjoy getting up early and walking.”

  “Why don’t you wait for me to walk with you.” His tone was softer, almost conciliatory.

  “I don’t want to wake you up.”

  “Wake me up, Renee.”

  “Okay, Sheldon. I’ll wake you up.”

  He pointed to the puppy. “What do you have there?”

  “A pet.”

  He lifted both eyebrows. “A pet?”

  “Our pet, Sheldon.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Did I say I wanted or needed a pet?”

  Renee shook her head. “No. But, if I’m going to live with you then he will become our pet.” She peered up at him. “Don’t you like animals?”

  Sheldon gave Renee an incredulous look. “If I didn’t like animals why would I own a horse farm? I’m not opposed to you having a dog, but who’s going to take care of him when we go away?”

  “When are we going away?”

  “I’d planned to take you to the cabin this weekend. You said you wanted to learn how to fish.”

  “Can’t we take him with us, Sheldon? Please,” she added when a frown appeared between his eyes.

  The corners of his mouth twitched then inched upward as he tried and failed to bite back a grin. “Yes, princess. You can bring our pet to the cabin.”

  Moving closer, she wound her free arm around his waist, encountering a bulge in the small of his back. “Sheldon.” His name was a weak whisper. He was carrying a handgun.

  Grasping her hand, he pulled it away from his body. “It’s all right, baby.”

  “It’s not all right. I don’t like guns.”

  “Neither do I,” he countered. “But sometimes they are a necessary evil.”

  She took a step backward. “I don’t want to see it.”

  “Walk ahead of me and you won’t see it.”

  Renee moved in front of Sheldon. She could feel his gaze boring into her back. “I need a name for the puppy.”

  “Is it a boy?” She nodded. “How about Patch?”

  “How did you come up with that one?”

  “Because he looks as if he’s wearing a black patch over one eye.”

  Renee stared at the sleeping puppy. So much for her being observant.

  “Patch Blackstone. I like the sound of that,” she said, peering at Sheldon over her shoulder.

  “He’s going to need food.”

  “Peter promised to bring some to the house.”

  Sheldon shook his head. Three months ago he lived alone. Now he had not only a woman but also a dog sharing his home. “Try to paper train him as soon as possible, because I don’t want more work for Claire.”

  “I’ll clean up after him.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  “Why not, Sheldon? He’s my pet and therefore my responsibility.”

  “You don’t need to be on your knees cleaning up dog crap. I’ll do it.”

  Renee’s back stiffened. “No, you won’t.”

  “If that’s the case, then get rid of the damn dog.” She stopped, spun around and walked back to face him. “I’m not going to argue with you, Renee,” he warned in a deceptively soft voice.

  There was something about Sheldon’s expression that stilled Renee’s tongue. His implacable expression was unnerving. “Nor I you,” she said quietly.

  Turning on her heel, she bit down on her lower lip until it pulsed between her teeth. How could she prove her point with a man who refused to debate?

  The answer was she couldn’t.

  * * *

  Renee sat next to Sheldon at a table in the dining hall. Each table’s centerpiece was representative of the season: tiny pumpkins, gourds, sprigs of pine and pine cones. Orange and yellow tablecloths had replaced the usual white. Prerecorded taped music provided a nice backdrop for the various conversations from the diners.

  She’d had a light breakfast because she wanted to save her appetite for Thanksgiving dinner. Within minutes Kevin Manning, his wife and their niece, Cheryl, joined them.

  Nineteen-year-old Cheryl had become a racing celebrity. Barely five feet in height, she topped the scales at an even one hundred pounds.

  Ryan Blackstone stood up, waiting for conversations to fade. He smiled, flashing sparkling white teeth under a neatly barbered mustache. “Good afternoon. Unlike my esteemed father and brother, I’ll make this speech short and sweet, because I don’t know about you but I’m hungry enough to eat a horse.”

  There came a round of hisses and boos when he mentioned horse. “Not any of our horses, of course.” This was followed with applause. Ryan sobered. “But on a more serious note, I’d like to give thanks for so many things this year. I’m thankful for our families, immediate and extended. We also have to thank Kevin and Cheryl for their incredible successes. We are thankful and grateful for the new members of our farm family.” He smiled at Renee and Beatrice.

  “I’d also like to thank my brother for his hard work an
d unwavering support as we prepare for another generation of Blackstone Farms achievements. I’d like to thank my father for always being here not only for me but also for all of us. He’s sacrificed a lot to make Blackstone Farms what it is today, and for that I’m certain he will be rewarded in ways he cannot imagine.

  “Last year our mothers came to Sheldon because they wanted a safe environment for their children. That request gave birth to the Blackstone Farm Day School and Infant Center. This year some of you have asked for a place of worship, and your request has been taken under advisement. Sheldon has offered to give up five acres of land in the north end for the construction of an interdenominational church. The contractor laid the foundation two days ago, and we hope to have the project completed before spring.”

  Ryan paused as applause and whistles rent the air. He held up a hand. “Some of you may not be aware of it, but in another life one of our grooms served as an assistant pastor in a little church in Texas.” He motioned to a table to his right. “Reverend Jimmy Merrell, I’d like for you to meet your flock and bless the food.” There were gasps of surprise intermingled with applause.

  Jimmy stood up and clasped his hands, everyone following suit. Renee folded her hands in her lap. She gave Sheldon a sidelong glance when his hand covered hers.

  There were so many things to be thankful for this year: the child kicking vigorously inside her; the love of the man cradling her hand; the love and happiness her mother had found after so many years of pain and despair, and her brother for his love and support after she’d come to him when she needed him most.

  The invocation concluded and the feasting began. Renee ate so much that she had to refuse dessert. She’d wanted to sample the pastry chef’s renowned sweet potato pie, and in the end she had a slice wrapped up to take with her before she and Sheldon left for their weekend at the cabin.