“Thanks, Charlie. I’ll keep that in mind when the time comes and I’m ready to buy.”
“You talking about old man Stanton?” Kirk Brighton asked Charlie.
Charlie nodded. “That bull of Stanton’s is a fine specimen of cowhide and he’s got a herd of healthy heifers that make most other ranchers’ cows look sick.”
As the men worked on the new corral, they talked about ranching, filling Chance in on who had the better horses and where to buy the best feed. It didn’t take long for the conversation to turn to other things—the bar that had the best drinks in town, favorite baseball teams and the new motor that some guy named Dirk had dropped into his old Chevy.
Chance was surprised to discover himself enjoying the male conversation. One of the negatives of always traveling was the lack of any real companionship.
Even as a young man, Chance had been reluctant to form any real or lasting friendships with other guys. Friends spent time at your house, and Chance had never wanted to expose anyone to his volatile father.
The aura of camaraderie that now surrounded him reminded him of his happy days on the Colton ranch. For that year of his life he’d felt a part of something bigger than himself. He’d been part of a community, a family.
He frowned, remembering what Maya and Lana had said about Meredith Colton. It shouldn’t surprise him. He’d always believed in his heart that good things didn’t last, that happiness wasn’t forever.
He’d had a brief period of happiness when his mother had been alive, but when she’d died, she’d taken everything good in his life with her. And Meredith Colton had turned into a mean, hateful woman. Good things didn’t last.
They’d been working on the corral for about two hours when Chance saw Lana approach from the house. Clad in a bright pink dress and with her hair streaming like a curtain of silk down her back, she carried a huge pitcher and several large paper cups.
Chance had never before noticed how sensually her hips undulated when she walked and how her silky curtain of hair swayed in tantalizing rhythm.
The press of her breasts were evident against the dress bodice and Chance’s hands itched with a sudden need to touch her.
He knew he’d awakened in her a well of passion, and he found her an intriguing and exciting bundle of shyness and boldness in bed.
A strange thrill of possession swept through him along with an unexpected pride as he watched the other ranch hands stand and eye her approach with obvious approval.
“I thought you all might like something cold to drink,” she said, that familiar shy smile lighting her features.
“That sounds mighty good, ma’am,” Clayton Croft, the youngest of the group, said as he quickly swept his hat from his head.
Chance had the feeling that if Lana had offered to serve hot beer to the young man, he’d have jumped at the opportunity to please her.
“Oh, please, I’m not a ma’am, I’m just Lana,” she said as she poured the young cowboy a tall glass of lemonade.
“Thank you, ma’am, uh, Lana.” Clayton took the cup from her, the color in his cheeks heightening as he offered her a shy smile. Clayton watched her every move with mooning eyes, and amusement filled Chance.
She poured the cold drink for the others, then started back to the house. Chance quickly fell in step with her. “That was a real thoughtful thing to do,” he said.
She smiled at him and shrugged. “It’s hot and dusty. I figured you could all use something cold to drink.”
They stopped walking at the porch. “I think you made a conquest.” Chance shot an amused glance toward Clayton.
“Don’t be silly. I didn’t do anything,” she protested with a laugh.
Chance eyed her objectively and realized there was something different about her, a subtle something that hadn’t been there on the day he’d married her.
An awareness of herself as a woman, a pride in the tilt of her head, a knowing gleam that lit her dark eyes. She was a woman who was desired…and knew it.
“How would you like to go out to dinner this evening?” he asked, suddenly wanting to go into town, let the people of Prosperino see his wife on his arm.
“Really?” she asked. “But I have a ham in the oven.”
“Take it out and put it in the refrigerator. We’ll eat it tomorrow night,” he said firmly. “We haven’t left this ranch together since our wedding day and it’s high time I take my wife out for a meal.”
She smiled up at him, her beautiful eyes lit with sparks of pleasure. “Oh, Chance, I’d like that.”
Chance looked at his watch. “It’s almost four now. I’ll knock off work about five and we’ll head out of here at six, okay?”
“I’ll be ready.” She turned and lightly ran up the steps to the door.
Chance watched until she disappeared into the house, then he walked back to the men.
“You’re one lucky man, Chance Reilly,” Charlie said. “That’s a real pretty wife you’ve got, and she comes from good stock. You won’t find better people than Inez and Marco Ramirez.”
Chance nodded and together the men got back to work. You’re a lucky man. As Chance hammered nails and carried wood, Charlie’s words played and replayed in his mind.
Yeah, he was lucky all right. He had a wife who cleaned his house, cooked him sumptuous meals, washed and ironed his clothes and met him with passion each night. And he didn’t have to pretend to love her or worry about promises of forever.
In the next couple of months he had every intention of walking away from her. He should be happy about it. He was living every single man’s dream. But, as Charlie’s words continued to echo in his head, he didn’t feel particularly happy. He felt as if he just might be more than a little bit stupid.
“It’s high time I take my wife out for a meal.”
Chance’s words swirled in Lana’s head as she changed her clothes and prepared for an evening out on the town. She wasn’t sure why, but the thought of going out to dinner with Chance filled her with nervous anxiety.
It somehow made the marriage seem more real than it was, and Lana knew she couldn’t fall into the fantasy of believing this was anything but a temporary business arrangement.
Even though she knew Chance liked making love to her, that didn’t mean he loved her. She’d been a virgin, but she certainly had listened to enough girl talk to know that men were able to separate love and sex quite easily.
She frowned at her reflection, wondering if perhaps she’d overdone it with the makeup. She rarely wore it, but had wanted to look nice, to look special for their night out.
She pulled a tissue from the box and quickly swiped it over her cheeks to take off some of the blush she’d just applied. Checking her reflection, she pronounced herself ready.
The dress she’d chosen was nicer than her daily wear things. The scarlet dress hugged her figure to the waist, then flared out in a skirt that showed off her long legs. She’d used the curling iron on her hair, giving the length a touch of curl at the ends. She sprayed on a final spritz of her perfume, then left the bedroom.
As she walked down the hall, she heard Chance dressing in the bathroom. It was funny, they shared a bed every night. Three times that week he’d made love to her by candlelight, allowing her to see every inch of his body and him to view hers, yet when they dressed, he went into the bathroom and left her the privacy of the bedroom.
Once in the living room, she sat on the sofa and tried to still her nerves. It was ridiculous to be so anxious about a simple dinner out. They would eat, visit with people they knew, pretend to be happy in their marriage, then come home and return to their life for the time being.
She rubbed a hand across her abdomen, wondering if it had already happened. Had they already made a baby? Her heart thrilled at the very idea of carrying a tiny life inside her. At the same time, she hoped it didn’t happen too soon. Once she was pregnant, there would be no more reason for Chance to kiss her, to hold her, to make love to her.
“Wow!�
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She looked up to see Chance standing at the end of the hallway, his gaze focused intently on her. He was dressed in a pair of charcoal-gray slacks and a striped dress shirt, but she suddenly feared she’d over-dressed. Perhaps he had meant a simple meal at the café. She stood and ran her hands down the sides of her skirt. “Too much?” she asked worriedly.
“No, not at all.” He approached her, his intense gaze sweeping over her, taking her in from head to toe. Her body warmed at every point where his gaze lingered. “It’s just that you look…you look beautiful.”
Heat rose to her cheeks, a sweet heat of pleasure. “Thank you.” She averted her gaze from his, afraid that if she continued to look into the flames in his green eyes, she’d fall right into him and they’d never make it to dinner. “Are you ready?” she asked softly.
“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea how ready I am.”
The fire in her cheeks intensified. “I was talking about going to dinner,” she said dryly.
He swept a finger across her lower lip, the touch achingly sensual. “Okay, but after dinner, when we get back here, I intend to take you where I’m ready to go.”
As they left the house and got into his car, Lana wondered how it was possible he could make her feel so breathless, so wonderfully alive. A simple touch, a certain look in his eyes, and she was weak-kneed and dizzy with burning want.
Was it this way with all couples? Somehow, she didn’t think so. There was a strong physical attraction at work between Chance and her, but she’d be a fool to mistake it for anything more. She’d be a fool to mistake it for love.
Still, as he drove toward town, she basked in his nearness. Despite their lovemaking, they rarely spent any real time together. They shared the evening meal, but most evenings Chance was tired and withdrawn and any conversation between them was strained and uncomfortable.
She sensed something different in Chance tonight. He seemed invigorated rather than drained from the day’s work. As music from the radio filled the car, his thumbs thumped in rhythm on the steering wheel and he hummed beneath his breath.
Perhaps he was invigorated by the idea of getting off the ranch he professed to hate. Maybe it was the idea of being surrounded by people and not just in her company that had him in high spirits.
“You and the men are getting a lot accomplished in a short amount of time,” she said to break the silence between them.
He turned the radio down just a touch. “They’re a good bunch of workers. We should finish up the corral this week and then next week start on some of the pasture fencing.”
“I made a list of things you might want to think about fixing in the house,” she said. He looked at her in surprise and she smiled. “You’ve been focused in on fixing all the things that will make a man want to buy the ranch, but the real person you need to please is a buyer’s wife.”
“You think so?” he asked, obviously intrigued by the idea.
“I’m certain. With that in mind, I walked through each room this morning and pretended to be a prospective buyer looking at the place as if it was going to be my home for the next fifty years or so.” What she didn’t tell him was that it was far too easy for her to imagine living there for the next fifty years…with him.
“And what did you find?” he asked.
“The leaky faucet in the kitchen needs to be replaced. The bathroom door lock is broken. One burner on the stove doesn’t work, and there’s a dent in the Sheetrock in the spare room.” She ticked off the items one after another, and felt a sudden tension rolling off Chance. “What?” She frowned worriedly. “What did I say that’s upset you?”
He cast her a swift look of surprise. “What makes you think you’ve upset me?”
She shrugged. “I can feel it. Besides, you’re suddenly grabbing the steering wheel too tightly and your jaw is clenched.”
His fingers loosened around the wheel and he released a deep sigh. “I’ll fix the faucet and we’ll buy a new burner for the stove, but I won’t replace the Sheetrock or the bathroom door lock.”
It was her turn to look at him in surprise. “Why not?”
He frowned, his features looking hard in the glow from the dashboard lights. “I won’t clean up his messes. Faucets and burners wear out, but door locks and Sheetrock get broken through violence.”
Lana felt the pain beneath the anger in his voice. “I’m sorry, Chance.” She reached out and placed a hand on his thigh in an effort to comfort. “I’m sorry you didn’t have a father like mine, one who would support you and love you, one who never raised his voice or his fists in anger.”
He dropped a hand from the steering wheel and covered hers with it. “I always envied you your relationship with your parents. And for that year that I lived on the Colton ranch, I tried to pretend I wasn’t Chance Reilly, but instead was Chance Colton.”
“I was lucky by birth,” she said softly, warmed by the touch of his hand against hers. “You’ll just have to find happiness and be lucky in the choices you make and the direction you choose for your life.” She turned her hand over so her fingers could entwine with his. “Maybe in fixing the wall and the lock, you’ll heal some of the pain, get rid of some of the anger inside you.”
He pulled his hand away and returned it to the steering wheel. “I’ve got no pain inside me, and the anger will go away when I sell that place and spend his money for my pleasure.”
He might think he had no pain from his childhood, but Lana knew otherwise and she wondered if he was spending his life running from his pain, the end result a lifestyle of no ties and no commitments to anything and anyone.
“I didn’t mean to place a pall on things,” she finally said, then offered him a teasing smile. “After all, it isn’t every night my husband takes me out to dinner.”
“That’s right,” he agreed, returning her smile with one of his own. “But I do have a word of advice.”
“What?”
“If you don’t take your hand off my thigh, we’ll never make it through dinner. I’ll be wanting to carry you off to the nearest motel and have my way with you.” His eyes glittered with a fiery glow.
She quickly pulled her hand away, a deep blush warming her cheeks. “If you don’t stop looking at me that way, I’ll let you carry me off to the nearest motel and have your way with me.” Her blush deepened as she shocked herself with her own boldness. “And in a single week, you’ve made me utterly shameless,” she admitted.
She sobered slightly, her gaze lingering on him. “Is it wrong, Chance, for me to like sex so much? Am I…abnormal?”
He laughed and she felt the tension that had been in the air dissipate. “No, my sweet, innocent Lana. It isn’t wrong and it isn’t abnormal. We’re good together in bed. And it’s okay for you to be shameless just as long as it’s always with me.”
Always. The word teased the tip of her tongue, but she knew better than to speak it aloud. He was teasing her, but she wasn’t sure her answer would be in the same teasing tone. With every day that passed she was more confused about her feelings where Chance was concerned.
He wheeled into Medicino’s, a popular Italian restaurant. “How does Italian sound?”
“Wonderful,” she replied.
Within minutes they were seated at a table near the back of the place. The ambience in the restaurant promoted romance. Candles burned in the center of each small table and hanging plants provided an aura of privacy. The tables were set far enough apart to allow intimate conversations and the music that drifted lightly in the air was soft and slow.
They placed their orders, then Chance poured them each a glass of wine from the bottle he’d ordered. “Did I tell you that you look quite lovely tonight?”
“You mentioned it earlier,” she replied. He’d told her by the look in his eyes that he thought she looked good, but it was nice to hear the actual sentiment put into words once again.
“Then I’ll tell you again. You look beautiful.”
“You must drive those mi
dwestern women crazy with your sweet talk and handsome looks,” she returned lightly. She’d bet he had a girlfriend in every city, a warm female in every motel bed where he slept. She was surprised by how much this idea bothered her. She’d never had a jealous bone in her body, but the thought of Chance with other women caused a slight edge of jealousy to surge up inside her.
“Ah, finally we see the newlyweds out together.”
Lana and Chance looked up to see Angie and Harmon Graves approaching their table. Angie leaned down and kissed Lana on the cheek. “Congratulations, sweetie. I’m glad to see one of our hometown girls managed to grab this scalawag.”
“Thanks, Angie,” Lana replied, and fought down a dose of guilt at their deception.
“What are you two doing here?” Chance asked.
Harmon pointed a finger at his wife. “She’s quit cooking at home, so when she gets a night off, we eat out.”
“I cook all day for other people, on my nights off I want somebody else cooking what I put in my mouth,” Angie exclaimed.
“I’ve been meaning to call you and thank you for that beautiful apple pie you sent home with Chance. I’ve always said you make the best apple pies in California and we really enjoyed it,” Lana said.
“Don’t mention it,” Angie said with a pleased smile.
“Would you two like to join us?” Chance asked.
“Heavens no. You two are practically still on your honeymoon and we wouldn’t dream of intruding,” Angie exclaimed. “Enjoy your dinner,” she said, then grabbed her husband’s arm. “Come on, Harmon, I’m starving.”
Harmon nodded goodbye in his usual laconic fashion and the two disappeared.
“Angie is a sweetheart,” Lana said the moment they had left.
Chance nodded. “She and Harmon were my lifeline on more than one occasion.”
“What do you mean?”
“When things got too tough between me and my dad and I needed an escape, I’d often go to the café and hang out there. Angie was always very sympathetic and Harmon…” Chance laughed. “Harmon never said much, but when he did speak, he usually said something important.”
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