by Lauren Canan
Chance expected to greet only Wade, but the sprawling office and reception area was filled with people. Applause broke out as soon as he walked through the door. Chance understood they were heralding one of their soldiers’ return home from the battlefield, but he could have done without the attention. He shook hands and received gentle pats on the back as he made his way to where his eldest brother stood as the employees who’d welcomed him filed out the door.
When they all had departed, Wade lost no time getting down to business. Literally. For the next five hours Chance was given a thorough glimpse into Masters Corporation, Ltd. It was impressive. Wade had done an excellent job and Chance lost no time telling him so. The plans for future expansion in key areas were brilliant. Wade was made for this and he handled it beautifully. Cole proudly gave Chance a bird’s-eye view of the books: where they had been, where they were now and where they expected to be in the next two years.
“Where are the figures on the ranch?”
He caught a quick glance pass from Cole to Wade. Suddenly the feeling of camaraderie in the room shifted to one of nervous tension. It was the same sensation Chance felt on missions when they had been given wrong intel and rather than a simple reconnaissance his team found themselves in the middle of an all-out skirmish. There was always a moment of realization that they’d been set up just before shit hit the fan and bullets started to fly, not unlike what he was feeling right now. The hair on the back of his neck stood at attention. Chance stepped back from the conference table and waited.
“The fact is,” Cole said, meeting Chance’s eyes, “the ranch is not profitable. It hasn’t been for the past five or six years. Beef prices fluctuate but the cost to maintain it steadily goes up.”
“There is a lot more to it than that. Have you taken an in-depth look at the figures?”
“Yes. And no.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means we’ve decided to get out of the cattle business. There is a lot more money to be made in other areas of the corporation. Frankly, we are not ranchers. We’ve tried several times to bring in someone to manage a turnaround. Nothing they tried worked. It’s just not worth the money and time to try to fix whatever might be wrong—if there is a fix—when that time could be better spent working on financially sound investment opportunities.”
“The ranch was Mom’s dream.”
Wade nodded. “Yes, it was. But she’s gone. And times have changed. The land itself is worth more divided into parcels and sold for development than it is as a feeding trough for cattle. Plus, the entire west end of the property runs parallel to the rail system, which triples its worth.”
Chance clenched his jaw, determined to keep that sickening twist in his gut from spilling out in a completely different form, all directed at his brothers. He clenched his fists as fury battled desperation. In all the covert missions, he’d never felt such a strong sense of pending disaster. There was always a plan B. There was always hope. But this was a dagger right to the heart. And he had only himself to blame. He was the one who’d chosen to walk away, leaving Wade and Cole to handle it all. As it stood, he had no right to say anything. He’d long ago made choices, and those choices took him out of the game. But that didn’t stop the bile from rising in his throat.
From the home office, they were driven to the original Masters mansion in North Dallas, where dinner would be served and they would spend the night. Their grandfather had built the original structure back in the 1940s. Their father had doubled its size, and the entire building had been updated just before he died. Complete with turrets, it had always reminded Chance of something out of the Middle Ages. This was where Wade and Cole had lived the first few years of their life and, when business brought them to Dallas, this was home. Their mother had not been raised in a city and longed for the wide-open spaces, so to appease her, the gigantic log-and-stone house at the ranch had been built. That was the only home Chance could remember.
While Wade and Cole kept up a lively conversation between courses, Chance’s mind wavered between the loss of the ranch and Holly. Somehow he saw both in the same light. In a matter of weeks, he would lose them both. He would head back to his world, and life would continue as it had for the past twelve years. He couldn’t help but surmise what would happen to her business if Wade sold the land. Could a veterinarian clinic survive amidst the housing developments and commercial ventures? He supposed it could happen. Maybe she would be better off. Maybe Cole would help her relocate. Whatever happened, Holly would survive. She was a fighter. Always had been.
Chance shouldn’t have kissed her. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t touch her. But damn. He was glad he had even if it was wrong. She’d felt amazing in his arms. Her skin was velvety soft and smooth. She’d melted against him until it felt as if the two had merged into one. He’d never felt that close to any woman, even during sex. The silky sweetness of her mouth had been almost more than he could handle without taking her fully. And he’d wanted to. The way she’d opened to him, offering more... Her soft moans telling him of her need. Holding himself back had taken more strength and determination than a lot of the missions he faced as a SEAL.
She had a baby. A baby not a lot older than the one he’d let die. He’d been in plenty of situations he would label uncomfortable. Being around her baby was another one. He couldn’t tell Holly he no longer wanted to be around her because she had a kid. And he wanted to see her again. Whether it was right or wrong, whatever this thing was between them had changed from childhood friendship to adult desire, and it gripped him hard and heavy. He’d felt the very real, very hot flames of it when he’d kissed her. When she’d responded.
His brothers’ laughter brought him back to the present.
“That sound okay with you, Chance?”
“I’m sorry?”
Wade had that stupid knowing smile on his face again. “I was saying a welcome-home celebration was needed. It’ll give you the opportunity to meet some of the executive staff here in Dallas. We have some really good people and they’ve all been waiting to meet you. I think once you have a chance to talk with them, get to know them and feel comfortable, this whole corporation thing won’t seem so alien to you.”
Chance sat up in his chair. The last thing he wanted to do was become a G.I. Joe puppet on Wade’s center stage. Clearly this was another attempt by his brothers to bring him on board at the company, and after their earlier revelation about the ranch, he wanted nothing more than to tell them both to stick it. “And who else will be there?”
“Excuse me?”
“Other than your employees?”
Wade dropped the linen napkin on the table. “There might be some representatives from companies we do business with.”
“You see me as a salable, item and you’re not going to let the opportunity pass to draw interest to your latest project by introducing them to a SEAL. And the fact that it’s your own brother makes it more palatable. You never were one to give up an opportunity to grab for the brass ring. Just like Dad.”
Wade shrugged. “I’m not saying you’re right, but even if you are? So what?”
Chance looked at Cole, who had silently observed the exchange. “You want explain it to him?”
“Cole doesn’t have to explain anything to me,” Wade barked, his voice edged with aggravation and long-practiced intimidation.
Yeah. Good luck with that.
“I get that you want no part of this company, Chance. I think I can change your mind but you’ve got to give me an opportunity. What can it possibly hurt for you to put a little effort forward and meet some people? People who care a lot about you.”
“I don’t even know them. You said that yourself.”
This conversation had no end. He and his brother could keep arguing until the next full moon. No, it couldn’t hurt for Chance to agree to attend this fiasco,
but at the same time, it wouldn’t hurt for Wade to let it go.
Chance blew out a breath. “It seems ridiculous to me when I have no plans to stay. I’ll do it. But one evening is it. After that, no more.”
“Done,” Wade confirmed.
“If you gentlemen will excuse me, I think I’ll say good-night. I’ve had about all the happy news I can stomach for one evening.” Chance stood and looked around at where he’d been sitting. They’d used three chairs out of the forty that surrounded the elaborate table, the rich mahogany gleaming under the glow of three chandeliers. “Why don’t you put some effort toward getting a smaller table? Eventually somebody’s going to think there are a lot of guests who didn’t show up for dinner. Not good for the image.” He pursed his lips at the humor apparently only he could see. “Good night.”
As Chance’s long strides carried him down the hall to the elevator, he heard his brothers discussing what they had asked him to do. Cole wanted the party held here, in the center of Dallas, which would be easier on everybody. Except for the star attraction, aka the bait. In two days he had an appointment with the civilian doctor. Depending on his findings, Chance would be one step closer to getting back to his team.
* * *
The next morning, not willing to subject himself to the possibility of any belated plans Wade may have thought of overnight, he asked the chauffeur to take him to the heliport. Wade and Cole had meetings scheduled in Dallas over the next two days, so there was really no reason to stick around just to say goodbye. They knew where to reach him if need be, plus there was an abundance of choppers if anyone needed to make a fast trip back to the ranch or anywhere else.
Soon Chance was behind the controls, the rotors gaining speed as he lifted off, heading the chopper north. This was a toy compared with what he’d been trained to fly, but it handled well enough. When the sprawling ranch came into view, only then did he begin to relax.
He had just shut down the engine of the Bell 407GX and stepped away from the chopper when his cell began to ring. It was Holly.
“Hey, Holly.”
“How was your visit to Dallas?”
“Oh, wonderful.” He could hear the heavy sarcasm in his own voice. There were dogs barking in the background on her end so he didn’t hear her reply.
“Come to dinner. Tonight at seven. It’s meat loaf night.”
“Meat loaf, huh? How can I pass that up?”
She giggled. “Gotta go. See ya then.”
He couldn’t help but notice his steps were lighter than they’d been before she called. But as he reached the flagstone area around the pool, he remembered the baby who would no doubt be there tonight. How was he going to spend time in the presence of...what was her name? Emma? How could he carry on as though it was nothing? Every time he looked at Holly’s baby he saw the baby girl in Iraq. She’d been sitting on the ground innocently playing with a doll. Chance had heard the missile seconds before he saw the exhaust as it lined up trajectory to the target: a building directly behind where the child sat.
He’d hauled ass toward the baby, muscles straining as he pushed himself past his physical limits, determined to get there in time. The explosion had blown him back some thirty feet. He’d lost hearing in one ear for almost a month, and they’d pulled shrapnel from his head and shoulders, requiring several days in the infirmary. And when the dust settled, there was nothing of the baby that remained. Just one foot of the little doll. All he could do was lie in that hospital bed and relive the incident over and over. Three seconds. If he’d had three seconds more, he might have saved her.
It was a child Emma’s age who brought on the nightmares. Of all the things he’d witnessed during his time in the service, that had been the worst. It had brought the reality of just how innocent and fragile a little life was screaming to the surface. After that experience, he’d stayed well away from members of his platoon who incessantly talked about their families. He didn’t blame them. Not at all. But it was nothing he would ever be a part of, and he found reasons to leave the room before new baby pictures made the rounds. He was happy for Holly. She seemed to really love Emma and no doubt was a great mom. But it was none of his business and it needed to stay that way.
Chance ran a hand over his face. He should listen to his own common sense. This wasn’t Iraq. There were no guided missiles. Holly’s baby was fine. He would be there an hour tops. He could do an hour. He wanted to see Holly again. If that’s the only way he could do it, he would get through it somehow.
* * *
“Come in!” Holly called upon hearing the knock on the door. Seeing Chance step into the room, she left the potatoes frying in the pan and hurried over to give him a welcome hug.
“Smells good,” he said and hugged her back.
“I hope you like it. It’s my granny’s recipe.” She hurried back to the stove. “There’s cold beer in the fridge and dinner is almost ready.”
This was the first time she’d ever cooked for Chance. She’d debated for two days what to fix. She wanted it to be something he couldn’t get anywhere else. That ruled out steak and baked potatoes. With her limited culinary skills, she’d settled on her Granny’s secret meat loaf recipe, homemade French fries, green beans from Miss Annie’s garden and cold beer or mint tea. Holly would have never been able to pick out or afford a good wine anyway.
Placing the food on the table, she told him to take a seat before hurrying from the room to get Emma. Chance’s body language changed when she carried the baby into the dining room. He appeared to withdraw. She had to wonder what that was about. Setting the high chair at the table between them, she seated Emma, then fixed her plate: noodles, some of the fries, green beans and applesauce. Finally, Holly sat down in the vacant chair across from Chance.
“Please, help yourself.”
Without uttering a word, Chance cut a sizable portion of the meat loaf and helped himself to the fries, green beans and a hot roll. He periodically glanced at Emma almost as though she made him nervous. Odd. He’d seemed fine with her at the Kite Festival at the park. Maybe he’d just had a bad day.
With Emma, it was sink or swim. She would either like you or she wouldn’t. It was her decision. If she took to Chance, he’d made a friend for life. Holly sat back, content to see what Emma would do.
It didn’t take long.
The baby was fascinated with the big man. She chewed a noodle and watched him fork a bite of meat into his mouth.
“This is great, Holly.” He glanced at Emma, who still sat staring at the new person in their house.
“Bea.” She pointed to the green beans on his plate. When Chance didn’t move she apparently thought he didn’t understand her command. She leaned over toward Chance, her hand almost touching his plate. “Bea.”
“Right. Bean.”
But he didn’t put any beans on his fork. He didn’t pick one up. He didn’t put any in his mouth. And Emma became more determined, staring as if trying to figure out why this person sitting at the table wasn’t eating his food.
Chance speared some fries. That seemed to appease her somewhat. She looked at her own plate and picked up a fry. As she chewed, she continued to stare at Chance. Holly had to wonder if Chance felt like a specimen under a microscope. It was then she noticed the beads of perspiration on his forehead. She stood from the table and walked to the thermostat on the wall, cranking it down a few degrees. When she returned to the table, Chance was wiping his face.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. This is really good.”
“So seriously, how’d it go in Dallas with your brothers?”
He shrugged. “Pretty much the way I expected.”
She saw the muscles in his jaw working overtime. He took a deep breath as though trying to gain control. Something unexpected had happened. Something he clearly didn’t want to talk about. She w
ouldn’t push him to tell her. If he wanted her to know, he would when he was ready.
“Fy.” Emma held out a French fry to Chance.
“Emma, here.” Holly put some applesauce in a spoon and held it to Emma’s mouth. “Take some applesauce. Mmm. Good.”
The baby took the bite, never taking her eyes off Chance. Holly sat mesmerized as Emma grabbed a noodle in her chubby hand and held it out to Chance. The baby leaned far out of her high chair in an attempt to feed Chance the noodle. Holly would swear the color drained from his face.
“She won’t give up until she sees you eating a green bean or a noodle. Those are her favorites.” Holly smiled in apology. “She’s like that. She tends to want to take care of people she likes.”
Chance nodded his head and speared a bean. “She doesn’t know me.”
“She knows enough.” Once Chance ate some of the green beans, Emma sat back in her chair, content. “Remember you telling me about that sixth sense you rely on? I’d have to say knowing which people she likes and doesn’t is something like that. I’ve seen her scream bloody murder if a person she doesn’t like tries to pick her up, even if it’s a grandmotherly type and innocent as can be. You’ve just witnessed what happens when the vibes are right.”
Chance cut a glance back at the baby. She sat quietly, watching him while she chewed on her bean. He picked up a French fry, broke it in two and gave her half. They both chewed their potato.
As the meal went on, Chance seemed to relax. A little. They shared green beans and more potatoes until finally Emma was full and wanted down to play.
“So where is your roommate this evening?”
“Roommate? Oh, you mean Amanda. She went home. Said she had errands to do. I think she had a date. She’ll be back eventually. She gets lonely sitting in her apartment by herself. She’s in between jobs right now.”