Maggie squeezed her eyes shut as the horrible truth dawned.
“Oh, no.” She swallowed once, twice, then opened her eyes and struggled to find her voice. “Don’t tell me you’re… You can’t possibly be—” her voice lowered to the merest whisper “—the other brother? The one who’s out of the country?”
Even as the question tumbled out, she knew. The same penetrating eyes and thick, dark hair. The same firm, jutting jaw. And though the face was twisted into a furious scowl, she could see the similarity between this man and the two who had hired her last night.
Those dark eyes were staring daggers through hers. “I already know who I am and why I’m here. But what business do you have in my kitchen, woman?”
The terror evaporated as quickly as it had begun, leaving in its wake a terrible feeling of weakness. Maggie was almost giddy with relief. She hadn’t been followed. He wasn’t here to see that she didn’t leave here alive….
Dear Reader,
It’s time to go wild with Intimate Moments. First, welcome historical star Ruth Langan back to contemporary times as she begins her new family-oriented trilogy. The Wildes of Wyoming—Chance is a slam-bang beginning that will leave you eager for the rest of the books in the miniseries. Then look for Wild Ways, the latest in Naomi Horton’s WILD HEARTS miniseries. The first book, Wild Blood, won a Romance Writers of America RITA Award for this talented author, and this book is every bit as terrific.
Stick around for the rest of our fabulous lineup, too. Merline Lovelace continues MEN OF THE BAR H with Mistaken Identity, full of suspense mixed with passion in that special recipe only Merline seems to know. Margaret Watson returns with Family on the Run, the story of a sham marriage that awakens surprisingly real emotions. Maggie Price’s On Dangerous Ground is a MEN IN BLUE title, and this book has a twist that will leave you breathless. Finally, welcome new author Nina Bruhns, whose dream of becoming a writer comes true this month with the publication of her first book, Catch Me If You Can.
You won’t want to miss a single page of excitement as only Intimate Moments can create it. And, of course, be sure to come back next month, when the passion and adventure continue in Silhouette Intimate Moments, where excitement and romance go hand in hand.
Enjoy!
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Senior Editor
THE WILDES OF WYOMING—CHANCE
RUTH LANGAN
For my own Wild Bunch.
Tom, Jr., this one’s for you. With love.
And, of course, for Tom. Always.
Books by Ruth Langan
Silhouette Intimate Moments
§The Wildes of Wyoming—
Chance #985
Silhouette Romance
Just Like Yesterday #121
Hidden Isle #224
No Gentle Love #303
Eden of Temptation #317
This Time Forever #371
Family Secrets #407
Mysteries of the Heart #458
The Proper Miss Porter #492
Silhouette Special Edition
Beloved Gambler #119
To Love a Dreamer #218
Star-Crossed #266
Whims of Fate #354
The Fortunes of Texas
“Snowbound Cinderella”
Harlequin Historicals
Mistress of the Seas #10
†Texas Heart #31
*Highland Barbarian #41
*Highland Heather #65
*Highland Fire #91
*Highland Heart #111
†Texas Healer #131
Christmas Miracle #147
†Texas Hero #180
Deception #196
*The Highlander #228
Angel #245
*Highland Heaven #269
‡Diamond #305
Dulcie’s Gift #324
‡Pearl #329
‡Jade #352
‡Ruby #384
Malachite #407
The Courtship of Izzy McCree #425
Blackthorne #435
Rory #457
Conor #468
Briana #480
One Christmas Night #487
Harlequin Books
Outlaw Brides
“Maverick Hearts”
Harlequin Historicals,
Christmas Stories 1990
“Christmas at Bitter Creek”
RUTH LANGAN
Award-winning and bestselling author Ruth Langan creates characters that Affaire de Coeur has called “so incredibly human, the reader will expect them to come over for tea.” Four of Ruth’s books have been finalists for the Romance Writers of America’s (RWA) RITA Award. Over the years, she has given dozens of print, radio and TV interviews, including Good Morning America and CNN News, and has been quoted in such diverse publications as The Wall Street Journal, Cosmopolitan and The Detroit Free Press. Married to her childhood sweetheart, she has raised five children and lives in Michigan, the state where she was born and raised.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Prologue
The sweeping grazing lands of Wyoming were ringed by towering mountain ranges already white with snow. The calendar said October, but the razor-sharp bite to the wind made it feel more like the dead of winter. The crowd that had gathered around the open grave huddled inside coats and parkas, hoping Reverend Young would spare them his usual long-winded eulogy and string of prayers, always offered in a monotone. Though their hearts went out to Wes Wilde’s three sons, they were eager to return to the warmth of their trucks. Besides, though Wes had made many friends in these parts since his arrival, he’d been a wild man. An outsider. Some said a crazy gambler. And his sons were just like him. The bad boys of Prosperous, Wyoming.
When the last prayer ended, the casket was lowered. The people watched in silence as each of the Wilde boys picked up a handful of dirt and tossed it on the lid of the casket. Then, though a few of the mourners stayed to whisper a word of comfort or to press a hand to the boys’ shoulders, the others drifted away, leaving the three to their grief.
Chance, at seventeen, was the oldest. He’d been working this land with his father since he was big enough to mend fences and ride herd. He’d learned to drive heavy equipment as soon as he was tall enough to see over the steering wheel. Though he was only a senior in high school, he was already as muscular as most men.
He was the most like his father. Tough. Hot-tempered. Some would say bullheaded. A pure gambler. Willing to risk whatever it took to get what he wanted. And a fierce competitor. He’d been playing varsity football for his high school since he was a freshman. He was a natural. Not only because of his size, but because he enjoyed the brutal physical punishment. There was nothing he liked better than a good head-banging, bone-jarring fight.
He’d carried little Prosperous High’s football team to all-state victory, three years in a row. There was talk of recruiters coming to watch his final year with the hope of luring him to their colleges.
“Come on.” He turned away from the grave, knowing his brothers would follow his lead.
“Where’re we going, Chance?” Hazard, at fifteen, was as tall as his older brother and nearly as muscular. And though he played on the football team, he didn’t have the same hard-driving, competitive edge. He wanted to win, but not at any cost. There were some who thought he’d inherited more of his mother’s tr
aits. Soft-spoken. Gentlemanly. Slow to anger. But he would only be pushed so far. When his temper exploded, he was even more dangerous than Chance.
“Home.” Chance yanked open the door to the truck and slipped behind the wheel. In almost the same motion he tugged at his tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt.
It was the first time he and his brothers had ever worn suits and stiff, new shoes. He’d done so out of respect for his father. Now he couldn’t wait to get back into the comfort of jeans and boots.
“What about the ranch? Are we going to be able to keep it?” Ace, the youngest at twelve, crowded between his two brothers in the cab of the truck. Tall and rangy, with arms and legs that seemed too long for his body, he had a quick, easy grin and a reputation as a free spirit. He had once, on a dare from a friend, leaped from the roof of the barn into a moving hay wagon, just to prove that he wasn’t afraid.
“What do you mean?” Chance’s voice was almost a snarl.
Ace shrugged. “With Dad gone, will it still be our home?”
“You listen to me.” Chance’s fingers curled around his brother’s arm; he was surprised to feel the beginnings of muscle. “Nobody’s taking the land away from us. Nobody. You hear me?”
“Yeah. I hear you.” Ace pried his brother’s fingers loose and gave him a hard punch for good measure. “I just hope the bankers hear you, too.”
For that he was forced to endure two quick fists to the shoulder in retaliation.
He got in a couple more licks before Hazard physically moved him over and placed himself between his two ornery brothers until they could cool off.
Ace turned to stare out the window and fought back a trickle of fear. He had caught sight of the ferocious look in his oldest brother’s eyes. Like a wolf he’d seen once, cornered by a pack of dogs. Backed into a corner. Fighting for his life.
They drove in silence until they reached the main street of Prosperous. Chance parked in front of the E.Z. Diner and turned off the ignition.
“We’d better stop here and fill up on some of Thelma’s chili before we head home.” He turned to his brothers. “How much money you got?”
Hazard dug into his pocket and pulled out some bills and change. “Three dollars and seventy-six cents.” He handed it over.
Ace counted out a handful of quarters, dimes and nickles. “A buck twenty-five.”
“I’ve got…” Chance reached into his pocket, then froze as his fingers encountered his father’s money-clip. He’d forgotten all about it. He pulled the clip from his pocket and stared at it for long silent seconds, feeling an almost overwhelming sense of loss. Then he forced himself to count the money that had been on their father’s dresser until two days ago. “Twenty-seven dollars.” He shoved it back into his pocket and opened the door. “Come on. We’ll eat, then pick up some groceries before heading home.”
As the three walked into the diner, every person there turned to watch them. If the girls stared a little too hard and sighed just a bit, the Wilde brothers took no notice as they walked in that loose-limbed, sauntering way to the counter.
“Hey, boys.” Thelma Banks set down three glasses of soda before they even settled themselves on the stools. “Sorry about your pa. He was a good man.” Thelma was stick-thin, with short, blunt hair dyed the most peculiar shade of purple. She had penciled in half- moon eyebrows, giving her a wide-eyed, questioning look. Her voice, scratchy, tobacco-roughened, sounded like a duck with laryngitis.
“Yeah. Thanks, Thel.” The lump that settled in Chance’s throat caught him by surprise. He’d have to be more careful. At least for the next few weeks. It wouldn’t do to have his brothers see him make a spectacle of himself by allowing his grief to show. “We’ll have three bowls of your chili. And some fries.”
“Comin’ right up, honey.” Thelma turned and shouted their order to Slocum, her sometime-cook, who had just returned from his latest stay in the county jail for drunk and disorderly.
“Here you go, boys.” Within minutes she set down steaming bowls of chili and a plate of fries before refilling their sodas.
As they wolfed down the food, Chance realized he hadn’t eaten in more than two days. Not since he’d found his father slumped over a bale of hay in the barn, fighting for every breath.
The memory slammed into him and he shoved aside the half-emptied bowl.
“What’s the matter, honey?” Thelma leaned a hip against the counter. “Too spicy?”
“No. It’s fine, Thel. I guess I’m just not as hungry as I thought.” Chance watched as Hazard reached over and grabbed the bowl, dumping it into his own, before adding a mountain of crackers.
Ace polished off the last of the fries and downed his drink in one long, noisy swallow.
The high-school football coach ambled over to offer his condolences. Chance kept his features stiff and frozen as he absorbed another round of pain.
“I heard some news that might take the sting out of this day, Chance.” The coach turned to include Hazard and Ace. “A friend of mine covers sports for UPI, and says you’re a cinch to win high-school player of the year.” He slapped Chance on the back. “You’ll have your pick of ivy-league colleges, boy.”
“Thanks, coach.” Chance avoided his brothers’ eyes as he cleared his throat. “I was going to phone you later. I won’t be able to stay on the team. In fact, I won’t even make this Friday’s game.”
“What?” The coach blinked, then shook his head. “I don’t think you understand, Chance. This is what every high-school football player dreams of. We’re unbeaten this season. A couple more games and you’ll be able to call the shots. Every college with an eye on winning a bowl game will be chasing you.”
Chance stood a little taller, meeting the older man’s eyes. “I have a ranch to run now. I won’t have time for football.”
“Won’t have time for…? What about school?”
Chance shrugged. “I’m going to try to finish. But I made a promise to my old man. And I mean to keep it.”
The coach seemed about to argue until he caught the fierce look in this young man’s eyes.
He nodded. “I’m sorry, Chance. But I guess I’ll just have to understand.”
As he turned away it occurred to him that if he were a gambling man, he’d bet all the money he had on Chance Wilde succeeding at whatever he set his mind on.
Thelma, who’d been listening, paused beside the counter. “Where’re you boys staying tonight?”
Chance’s chin came up. “We’re heading home.”
“You got a grandmother or aunt or something, honey?”
Chance shook his head. “Dad didn’t have anybody. Just us.”
“You planning to stay at the ranch alone?”
“Yeah.” His eyes challenged. “We don’t need anybody. We’ll be fine.”
“I know you will. It’s just a lot to take on.” When he reached into his pocket and withdrew the money, she placed a hand over his to still his movements. “You’re not buying, honey. This one’s on me.”
“I can afford…”
“I know you can. But let me do this. For your pa.” Her tone softened. “You boys may not know this, but when I arrived in Prosperous nearly ten years ago, I was alone and scared, and running from a guy who’d been using me for a punching bag. It was your pa who loaned me the money to get a room. He talked old Oscar Stern, who owned this place, into hiring me. And it was your pa who loaned me the money to buy it when Oscar got sick and wanted to go live with his sister.” She patted Chance’s hand. “Your daddy was the finest man I’ve ever known. He never asked anything in return for his kindness. That’s not something you find every day.” She smiled. “And I have no doubt that his sons will grow up to be just like him.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then did the same to each of his brothers. “Now go on home and take care of each other. And if you ever need anything…anything,” she said with a catch in her voice, “you better call old Thelma, or I’ll skin you alive. You hear?”
Chance nodded, then turned and stormed out of the diner, with his brothers nearly running to keep up. The minute all three were settled in the truck he took off, the wheels spewing gravel.
“I thought we were stopping for groceries,” Ace said as they barrelled out of town.
“I changed my mind.”
The grief had caught him by surprise. He’d been doing fine until Thelma had reminded him of just how much they’d lost.
And then, as the truck ate up the miles that separated their ranch from the rest of civilization, Chance Wilde felt another, newer emotion. Fear. In his entire life, he’d never before been afraid. But how was one seventeen-year-old supposed to hold it all together? The ranch. The land. And most of all, the family.
He didn’t know. Right now, he was out of answers. But this much he knew. He’d give it all he had.
Hadn’t he promised his father?
Chapter 1
“Simmons.” Chance Wilde held the cell phone to his ear as he pushed away from the leather recliner that served as a seat in his private jet. With an economy of movement he strode toward the bedroom in the rear of the plane, shedding his jacket and tie as he did. After two weeks of non-stop negotiations with clients in Saudi Arabia, he’d had his fill of suits and ties. And razors. A quick glance in the mirror showed the stubble of a beard already beginning to darken his chin and cheeks. The years of hard work and struggle had etched craggy lines into his handsome face, giving him a rugged, dangerous appearance.
“How’d it go, Chance?” Avery Simmons was head of the financial department at WildeChem, a division of WildeOil. As always, his voice had a hollow sound because he insisted on using his speakerphone. “Did you clinch the deal?”
“Yeah.” Chance tossed his clothes on the king-size bed and rummaged through the closet for his favorite jeans and shirt. “Most of it.”
“So.” Simmons paused, and Chance knew he was pouring himself another cup of coffee. The man could run for hours on pure caffeine. “Would you like us to plan a little celebration for your homecoming?”
Chance Page 1
