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Fortune's Second-Chance Cowboy

Page 8

by Marie Ferrarella


  Turning in his saddle, he looked at her. “So, how about it?”

  His question came out of the blue and caught her completely off guard. “How about what?”

  “Are you willing to give it a try now?” Chance wanted to know.

  She suddenly realized that there were five sets of eyes turned in her direction, waiting for her to answer.

  Chapter Eight

  It took Chloe a minute before she realized that the cowboy was serious. When she did, she was quick to respond to his question.

  “No, not right now,” she told Chance, doing her best to avoid looking at the four boys. “I’ve got all that paperwork I need to catch up on,” she added vaguely, coming up with the first excuse she could think of.

  With care and effort, she managed to climb down off the fence.

  But she found that her exit was blocked, not just by Chance, but by the boys, still on their horses, as well.

  “C’mon, Ms. Elliott. Try it. It’ll be fun,” Ryan coaxed.

  “We won’t let anything happen to you,” Jonah promised solemnly, adding his voice to the others. “Mirabel really is the gentlest horse on the ranch, honest.”

  “And Jonah and I will ride on either side of you, to make sure you don’t fall off,” Ryan added, obviously thinking she needed extra convincing.

  It was clear that they thought she was inept when it came to horses, never mind that she really was. She didn’t want that shortcoming to be general knowledge. That was the sort of thing that would make her stick out like a sore thumb on the ranch.

  She looked accusingly at Chance. “What did you tell them?”

  “Not a thing,” Chance answered. “They’re capable of figuring things out on their own.”

  “Horses aren’t anything to be afraid of,” Brandon told her, speaking up. Then he glanced at his bunkmate. “Right, Will?”

  The latter flushed. When he opened his mouth, it became apparent why. “Hey, when I came here, I’d never been around a horse before.” He gestured to the mount he was on. “But I learned how to ride.”

  “You rode very well,” Chloe told him, impressed. She was well aware of the fact that it had taken a lot of work for the boys to be able to ride as effortlessly as they did now. “You all did,” she added. And then Chloe looked around at all four of their faces. The light dawned on her. “Oh, I see what you’re doing.”

  The face Ryan turned toward her was one of complete innocence. “What are we doing?”

  Like he didn’t know. “You’re trying to get me so caught up in what you’re telling me that I forget all about not wanting to get up on a horse and riding it. That horse,” she amended, seeing the saddled dapple gray mare that Chance was leading toward her.

  “Will you?” Jonah asked.

  “We meant what we said. Jonah and I won’t let Mirabel run off with you—not that she ever would,” Ryan quickly added. “I’m just saying what you’re thinking.”

  “So now I’ve turned you all into mind readers, huh? I guess the sessions are going better than I thought they were,” she told the boys with a grin. She was feeling rather proud of her accomplishments when it came to the teens. Which just reinforced her determination not to look like an inept fool around them.

  “Now you’re doing it,” Ryan told her, shooting her a shrewd look.

  She looked at him innocently. “Doing what?”

  “You’re trying to distract us,” Ryan told her. “You’re getting us to talk about something else so we forget about giving you that riding lesson.”

  It was like being faced with four tenacious pit bulls. Once they sank their teeth into her, they were holding on for dear life. Well, she could play that game, as well. “I don’t need a riding lesson,” she protested.

  Chance brought his horse closer to her. “I thought those sessions of yours were all about always telling the truth,” he said.

  They were really ganging up on her, she thought. But she was determined to stand her ground. “They are.”

  “Well?” he asked, looking at her pointedly. She didn’t have to look at the boys; she felt their stares. They were all thinking the same thing, that she wasn’t owning up to her shortcoming.

  And then it occurred to her how to answer them. “I don’t need a riding lesson because I don’t want to know how to ride. Now if you boys—” she deliberately looked at all of them, including Chance “—will excuse me, I really do have work to do. But good job, all of you,” she told them again enthusiastically.

  With that, Chloe made her way back to the main house, keenly aware that she was being watched by five sets of eyes as she walked.

  She really did have work to catch up on, she thought defensively. It just wasn’t as pressing as she made it sound.

  What was pressing was her need to get away. Now.

  * * *

  Chloe wasn’t sure if she imagined the knock on her door that evening until she heard it a second time. There was definitely someone at her door.

  It was after dinner and rather than linger at the big house with Graham and his family the way she had done on several occasions now, Chloe had left the table early and retreated to her quarters in the guesthouse. She wanted a little time to herself to regroup.

  She was still feeling somewhat uncomfortable about this afternoon and the fact that she’d had trouble owning up to not being able to ride.

  She had to remember that it was okay not to be perfect, she told herself. It was just that she was trying really hard to present a strong front before these boys.

  Maybe, she thought, it was one of them at the door. Perhaps one of them wanted to talk to her about this afternoon. Probably to give her more of a pep talk, she surmised.

  Chloe smiled to herself. They were all rather sweet in their own way, and she appreciated that they were trying to be supportive of her.

  Maybe she’d just forget about being nervous and throw herself into learning how to ride. It seemed like practically everyone in the state did it, she reasoned. How hard could it be?

  It was definitely something to think about.

  Tomorrow.

  Psyching herself up, Chloe swung open the door. The cheery “Hi” she was about to utter never made an appearance when she saw it wasn’t any of the boys standing on her doorstep.

  It was Chance.

  Ever since she’d lost Donnie, her first thoughts always seemed to entertain a dark explanation. “Is something wrong?” Chloe asked, her heart already lodged in her throat.

  Chance’s answer was annoyingly vague. “That depends on your point of view.”

  Damn it, for a plainspoken man he could be maddeningly unclear. “Meaning?” she demanded.

  He crossed the threshold, but made no effort to come any farther into her quarters than that. “Meaning that you tried to lie to those boys.”

  He was referring to her initial pretense of knowing how to ride. She didn’t care for his accusation, especially in light of the way things turned out. “Well, they wound up hearing the truth so it’s not really lying, is it?”

  His eyes pinned hers, making her want to squirm. “What would you call it?”

  She could tell him exactly what she would call it. “I’d call it not wanting them to think any less of me.”

  That didn’t make any sense to Chance. “Because you can’t ride?” he asked incredulously. Why would they think any less of her for that? “Why? You never told them you traveled with the rodeo as a trick rider.”

  Why did she think he would understand her motivation? The cowboy had probably never known an insecure moment in his life. He was perfect at everything he did, and he knew it.

  “Let’s just drop it, all right?” she said shortly.

  “Sure,” he agreed, then added one condition. “As soon as you come out with me.”
Just to ensure that she would, Chance caught her hand in his and began to lead her outside.

  Not wanting to cause a scene, she went along reluctantly. “Just where are we going?” she wanted to know.

  “Don’t look so spooked,” he said with a short laugh. “I’m not kidnapping you.”

  Damn it, was he laughing at her? She was not going to be his source of amusement just because she didn’t measure up to Annie Oakley in his eyes.

  “I know you’re not kidnapping me and I’m not spooked,” she said between gritted teeth. Chloe tried to dig in her heels and found that it was a totally futile act. “But I do want to know where you’re taking me.”

  Chance spared her a glance over his shoulder. “It’s not what you think,” he assured her calmly, wanting her to know that he had no intentions of getting physical with her in any way.

  The problem was, it was the first thing that came to her mind. She instinctively knew that Chance was an honorable man, that he wouldn’t just drag her off somewhere in order to have his way with her. He just wasn’t that sort of person. But even so, she could feel her cheeks getting flushed, heating up and turning a deep shade of red that by no stretch of the imagination was her natural shade.

  “Okay,” Chloe retorted. “Then you tell me what to think.”

  She didn’t expect him to laugh at that, but he did. “Oh, I doubt very much that there’s a man alive who could do that, Chloe.”

  Maybe she was a woman who couldn’t be told what to think, but if she was as independent as Chance was giving her credit for, she would have never allowed him to drag her out of her quarters in the first place.

  Fueled by that thought, she demanded again, “Where are you taking me?”

  “Some place where you can get rid of your inhibitions,” he told her simply as he continued to pull her along behind him.

  Okay, he was beginning to make her nervous. Was he taking her somewhere so that he could—that they could—damn it, how could she be so wrong about a person?

  Nervous, incensed, she finally did manage to dig her heels into the ground, making him come to an abrupt stop. When he turned to look at her quizzically, she informed him in no uncertain terms, “I don’t want to get rid of my ‘inhibitions.’”

  “Sure you do,” he contradicted. She was about to yank her hand out of his and make a run for the main house when he went on to say, “No self-respecting Texan wants people to think that they can’t ride.”

  “Can’t ride?” she echoed. Panic and anger evaporated instantly. “This is about riding?” she questioned.

  “Not exactly,” he amended. “This is about teaching you the fundamentals of riding and ultimately getting you on the back of a horse. If that goes well,” he continued, a hint of a smile curving his lips, “then we’ll let Mirabel move a little with you on her back and we can call it ‘riding’ if anyone asks.”

  He led her to the stables, and when they entered, Chance let go of her hand. There was no need to continue pulling her in his wake. Turning around to face her, he told Chloe honestly, “And if you’re going to ask me why I’m doing this, it’s because I saw the look on your face earlier.”

  She didn’t know what he was talking about. “What look?”

  “The one that you had when you admitted to the boys that you didn’t know how to ride. I figured it really bothered you more than you were willing to say. And when something winds up bothering you that much,” he told her, bringing her over to Mirabel’s stall, “you’ve got to do something about it or it’ll just wind up haunting you.” His eyes met hers for a moment. “I know all about things haunting a person,” he told her. “Trust me, it’s not a good thing.”

  He cleared his throat, as if that was enough to chase away the emotion that he had accidentally unearthed. He’d gotten very good at blocking out unwanted feelings—except in the middle of the night, when he had no control over them.

  He forced himself to focus on Chloe. “Now, take it from me. There’s no more peaceful place in the whole world than on the back of a horse, and the sooner you find that out for yourself, the better you’re going to feel about the whole experience,” he promised.

  She was surprised to see that the mare was saddled, as if she was about to be taken out for a ride. Had Chance been that sure that he was going to get her to come here at this hour?

  “And we have to do this now?” she asked him.

  In response, he offered her that easygoing, sexy smile that transformed his uncompromising expression into a very compelling one. “No time like the present,” he told her.

  “Oh, I can think of plenty of other times,” she assured Chance. She was doing her very best to hide her nervousness.

  Despite her efforts, he saw right through them. Instead of making him feel sorry for her, or stopping him from continuing, it just urged him on. “Which is why this is the best time,” he assured her.

  The cowboy’s reasoning completely mystified her. “How do you figure that?”

  “The sooner you get over being afraid of riding,” he explained patiently, “the sooner you’ll be able to actually ride. And in no time at all, you’ll find yourself wondering what the big deal was and what took you so long to get to it.”

  Chloe looked as if she was trying very hard not to be nervous, and he felt for her, but he also knew that what he’d just told her was true. She needed to meet this fear of hers head-on. He’d learned that firsthand. When he’d first returned to the States, all he’d wanted to do was go off into the wilderness and avoid people altogether. Separation, isolation—he realized that he just wanted to be alone to try and escape from the memories that plagued him of the death and devastation he’d seen. Loss of friends he’d served with, day in and day out had worn his soul to the breaking point—and yet he knew that logically he couldn’t completely withdraw from society. He’d compromised by taking ranching jobs but never staying in any one place too long.

  For his part, he couldn’t see being afraid of riding, but then, except when he was stationed overseas, horses had always been a part of his life. It was like being afraid of the family dog.

  “Give me your hand,” he told her.

  Instead of complying, she did just the opposite and pulled it behind her back.

  “Why?” she wanted to know.

  “Because I need a third hand,” he quipped. Then his expression softened a little. “Just give it to me,” he coaxed. “I promise this won’t hurt.”

  Letting out a shaky breath, Chloe hesitantly put out her hand. He took it, covering it with his own, and guided it up to softly stroke the mare’s muzzle.

  “See, nothing to it,” he told her, watching her expression. He was pleased to see her relax a little. Disengaging his hand from hers, Chance said, “Now you do it.”

  Holding her breath, Chloe did as he instructed, moving her fingertips lightly along the mare’s coat. When Mirabel unexpectedly shook her head from side to side, as if tossing her mane, Chloe suppressed a gasp as she pulled her hand back.

  “It’s okay,” Chance assured her. “Mirabel is a horse, not a statue. She’s bound to make a few unexpected movements every now and then. She’s not rejecting you. She’s probably just inhaled something that’s tickling her nose.”

  He paused a moment, allowing Chloe to regroup. “Now try it again,” he urged.

  It was meant as a suggestion, but to Chloe it sounded just like an order. Orders made her bristle. Still, she didn’t want to come across like a coward in his eyes, so she put her hand on the mare’s muzzle again and stroked it.

  This time, the mare held still.

  A smile lit up Chance’s penetrating eyes. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “No,” she admitted almost grudgingly, then added, “that was kind of nice.”

  She wasn’t prepared for his question. “Think you’d lik
e to get up on her?” he asked.

  Her eyes widened. “You mean like ride her?”

  Chance heard the nervousness in her voice and was quick to put her fears to rest. “No, I mean get up into her saddle and just sit still. We’re not going anywhere just yet,” he told her.

  Standing beside the mare, Chloe looked up, judging where she would be sitting. She felt her stomach tightening.

  “It’s awfully high up,” she said. “What if Mirabel decides to take off?”

  “Her days of crashing through stable walls are definitely behind her.” The second he assured her of that, he realized that Chloe thought he was being serious. “I’m kidding,” he told her. “She’s never crashed through a stable wall—or anything else for that matter. I’ll help you up,” he offered.

  Chloe really didn’t want to do this, but once she looked into Chance’s eyes, she had the unerring feeling that he would keep her safe—even high up on a horse. So, reluctantly, she said, “Okay,” and had him help.

  Chance talked her through it, physically guiding her when he had to. He had her put her foot into the stirrup, then coaxed her through the steps until she swung her leg up over the mare’s hind quarters, finally managing to get her other foot into the stirrup.

  “You’re doing fine,” he told her.

  “How come I don’t feel fine?” Chloe challenged.

  Probably because she looked stiff as a board, he thought.

  “I’ve got an idea,” he told her.

  “I can get off the horse now?” Chloe asked him hopefully.

  “No,” he told her.

  She didn’t have very long to wait to see what he was up to. He took hold of the reins and in one fluid movement pulled himself up onto the horse directly behind her.

  “What are you doing?” she cried, starting to turn in the saddle and then abruptly stopping because she was brushing up against Chance.

  “My best to make you feel safer,” he replied.

 

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