The Wildes of Wyoming: Chance

by Ruth Langan

  “You won’t get any argument out of me about that.” He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger.

  She stood perfectly still, wondering if he knew what his touch was doing to her. Heat curled like ribbons along her spine, twisting, turning, weakening her resolve.

  “Of course…” he smiled, that wicked, sinful smile that had the power to melt her bones “…as long as we’re both here, what’s the harm in having a little fun?”

  She slapped his hand away. “I may have only been in Wyoming a short time, but I’ve heard all about the Wilde brothers and their effect on the women around here.”

  He grinned. “It’s been a noose around our necks since we were no more than pups.”

  She fought back the smile that threatened. He was so damnably appealing, he was almost irresistible. Almost. But she was absolutely determined to keep this on a strictly businesslike level. “Let’s get something straight. I’m not one of those sweet, unsophisticated little girls who grew up in Prosperous, panting over one of the local legends. I’m not impressed by you or your family name or your empire. And I’m not interested in…anything you have to offer.”

  His smile grew. “You haven’t even heard my offer yet, Maggie.”

  “Whatever it is, I’m not interested. Find yourself another playmate.” She pushed past him and started across the room.

  He stayed where he was, enjoying the way she kept her spine stiff, her head high, as she marched through the doorway.

  He tucked his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. She was looking better with every minute. If there was one thing he’d always enjoyed it was a challenge. And Maggie Fuller was definitely the most challenging thing to come into his life in quite a while.

  He realized he’d been traveling around the world far too much lately, when what he really wanted was just to lead a quiet, uneventful life. There was no place he could think of that was more uneventful than right here in good old Prosperous, Wyoming. Eating good food. Watching his pretty new cook. And seeing just what twists and turns their lives might take.

  He smiled, realizing he suddenly had a hankering to spend a whole lot more time around the ranch. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could string two or three days together, without having to leave.

  Who’d have believed that he would be more interested in trying to figure out one little cook than in trying to land a few dozen multi-million-dollar contracts in far-flung countries? It just proved the power of a fascinating woman.

  Chapter 4

  Too agitated to settle down, Maggie prowled her room, pacing from the fireplace to the window, then back again.

  The cook’s quarters were no different from the rest of the ranch house. Oversize. Spacious. Comfortable. The bedroom had a big rustic bed constructed of logs, and the softest mattress she’d ever slept on. Besides the bed there was a tall wardrobe, a night table, and an overstuffed chair and ottoman. In the bathroom the shower was big enough for half a dozen people with room to spare. Off the bedroom was a sitting room with a fireplace, television and sofa and an antique rolltop desk and swivel chair. The windows looked out over the most magnificent land Maggie had ever seen. Rolling hills that seemed, in the gathering light of evening, to be black with cattle. In the distance were the snow-capped mountain peaks of the Bighorns, reaching up to touch a sky awash with millions of glittering stars.

  Restless, Maggie undressed and pulled on the flannel pajamas she’d bought in the This N That Shop in Prosperous. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and paused, thinking about the drawer filled with silk lingerie in her apartment in Chicago. Had it been pulled out and strewn around the bedroom? Had the mattress been slashed, the stuffing tossed about like so much snow?

  She shivered at the shocking, horrifying scene she’d come upon that last night in her apartment foyer. A hall table upended. A mirror shattered. Plants and containers of dirt littering the surface of the beautiful Oriental rug.

  That was all she’d been able to view before she’d been forced to run for her life. But she could imagine what the rest of the apartment must have looked like.

  What would happen to all her things when next month’s rent wasn’t paid? Would the landlord sell it at auction to pay the bills? She thought about the mirrored buffet, the expensive dining-room table big enough to seat twenty, where she’d gathered her sister and friends together on special occasions to enjoy her gourmet meals. With a sinking feeling she pictured the custom upholstered sofa, a long curve of mauve nubby silk that faced the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lights of Lakeshore Drive. Had it been ripped open and destroyed as well?

  Just thinking about the destruction had the pain starting behind her eyes.

  It didn’t matter, she consoled herself. They were just things. And things could be replaced. Her life was more important. And life, she was learning, could be lived without an accumulation of possessions. A person could, when pushed to the wall, get by with a bed, a change of clothes and a job that occupied the mind as well as the hands.

  But for how long? How long could she go on wondering about all that she’d left behind?

  What about her friends? What were they thinking now? Were they believing the lies being spread about her? And what of the authorities? Were they looking for her? Had someone on the bus recognized her and notified the Chicago police?

  Ray Collier had warned her that she would pay. What better way to seek revenge than by systematically destroying her? First by ruining her reputation, and then by taking away everything that had ever mattered to her. Her sister. Her friends. Her livelihood. Her sense of safety. Especially that sense of safety.

  Never again would she be able to take her freedom for granted. No matter where she was, she would be forced to look over her shoulder, wondering if strangers recognized her.

  Even though she’d escaped with her life, she wasn’t free. Without meaning to, she’d played right into Ray Collier’s hand. And now he was holding all the cards. He had rigged the evidence in his own favor, making her look like the guilty party. What’s more, he was an authority figure. A man people trusted. While she was nothing more than a woman with no credibility whatsoever. A woman on the run. A woman many would believe was a criminal.

  She closed her eyes, waiting for the moment of panic to pass. With her fingers gripping the edge of the desk she took in deep breaths, filling her lungs, struggling to empty her mind. She couldn’t allow these thoughts to continue. If she did, she’d go mad.

  She resolutely crossed the room and switched on the television. What she needed was a mindless old movie.

  When she found what she was searching for, she took an afghan from the foot of the bed and wrapped herself in it, then settled into the comfortable chair, grateful that Cody had laid in a supply of firewood, and had taken the time to lay a fire that now burned cozily.

  It should have been the perfect balm for her soul. Stars gleaming in a midnight sky. The comforting smell of woodsmoke on the hearth. Nothing more challenging than an old black-and-white comedy. But try as she might, she couldn’t concentrate on the zany antics of the characters on the screen. Instead, she closed her eyes and found herself thinking again about that scene in the kitchen with Chance.

  What was she going to do about him? He was getting to her. With that heart-stopping smile and that bad-boy image, he was hard to resist. That could prove to be dangerous. She had no business letting anyone get too close. Especially a man like Chance Wilde. If he even suspected how much trouble she was in, she’d be cut loose and sent packing without a second glance. And right now, she needed this job. Needed the safe haven of this secluded ranch.

  If this had been another time, another place, a man like Chance Wilde would have seemed like a gift from heaven. But the timing was all wrong.

  The trick was to keep him at arm’s length. Otherwise, she was bound to get burned. But how was she going to hold at bay a man who behaved like a steamroller? She thought again about the kiss they’d shared. Being struck
by lightning would have been less potent. The man kissed the way he ate. The way he lived. With all his senses fully engaged. The problem was, he’d engaged her senses as well.

  That was something not many men could claim. Not that a few of them hadn’t tried. But she’d always managed to put her ambitions for her career ahead of her personal life. And the truth was, most of the men she’d known had been pursuing their own careers as well.

  Chance was different. A man completely at ease with himself and his life. From what she’d seen, the Wilde brothers weren’t concerned with success or failure. What they relished was action. Whether it was the latest deal, or a friendly game of poker, they were completely engaged in the moment.

  She opened her eyes. Stared at the ceiling. Chance Wilde would be a fabulous lover. And he would demand that his partner be as thoroughly involved as he was. There would be nothing passive in a relationship with a man like that.

  She bit her lip, annoyed at the direction her thoughts were taking. It was dangerous to even fantasize about a man like Chance.

  She’d always been able to keep her goals clearly in sight. And for now, her only goal should be survival. Still, it couldn’t be denied. Despite the trouble she was in, she was intrigued. With one kiss, Chance Wilde had practically devoured her. Equally amazing was her response. The moment he’d touched her, she’d forgotten every rule she’d ever set for herself and had responded in the same careless way.

  She found herself wondering what it would be like to just give in to the passion of the moment. To let herself be caught up in a wild, volatile explosion of feelings with a man known to be reckless.

  Shocked at the direction her thoughts had taken, she chided herself. She’d better be prepared to dig in and keep her feet squarely planted, or this man just might sweep her away.

  Irritated, she switched channels until she found a raucous game show. Then she forced herself to play along with the contestants until at last she gave in to the need to sleep. But it offered no haven. Even in sleep she had to keep running to stay one step ahead of her demons, who were always in pursuit. Not just the menace that had sent her running from everything that was familiar to her. Now there was another, perhaps more perilous one, as well. A man who, with one touch, could start a fire that threatened to melt the shield she’d erected around her heart.

  “Is that French toast?” Ace was the first one downstairs. This morning he was dressed in a suit and tie. All that remained of the lean, casual cowboy of the previous night were the highly polished tips of the Western boots on his feet.

  He leaned over Maggie’s shoulder and stared hungrily at the griddle.

  “I hope you approve. I call it banana-stuffed French toast. With Scottish farmhouse eggs.” Maggie turned perfectly browned sausages onto a heated tray.

  Hazard paused in the doorway, his cheeks ruddy from morning chores in the barn. “If it’s food, Ace approves.”

  “Especially,” Chance added as he strolled in from the other end of the house, “when he’s been out half the night carousing.”

  Ace shot his brother a look. “I wasn’t carousing. I had a couple of beers at Clancy’s, and beat Milt Ranson out of fifty bucks in a game of nine-ball.”

  “Poor old Milt.” Hazard shook his head. “When will he learn he can’t drink and gamble?”

  “I hope he doesn’t learn too soon.” Ace picked up one of the glasses of juice Maggie had lined up on the counter and downed it in one long swallow. “I agreed to a rematch next week, and I’m already looking forward to cleaning his clock.”

  The three brothers shared a smile.

  “The last time you said that,” Hazard pointed out with a chuckle, “I believe it cost you four hundred.”

  “That’s because I was coming down with the flu. I could hardly hold the cue stick.”

  “It might have had something to do with the pretty girl Milt brought along to dazzle you.”

  “I wasn’t dazzled.”

  “As I recall, you spent so much time looking at her you didn’t even notice that Milt was winning until he demanded another hundred.”

  “Okay. So maybe I got a little distracted. But I’ve learned my lesson. And so has Milt. Lesson number one. Never chase your money. Poor Milt was lost the minute he handed over his first twenty-dollar bill. Then it started eating at him, and he lost forty more chasing after it.”

  Ace started to laugh. “Speaking of eating, that’s rule number two at Clancy’s. Never eat the tomato paste on cardboard they call pizza. Or the burnt beef they have the nerve to call a charburger. I was up half the night paying for that mistake.”

  His brothers joined in the laughter.

  Hazard eyed him speculatively. “You never used to have such rotten things to say about Clancy’s food, as I recall.”

  “Well, maybe not. But that was before I tasted real cooking. Maggie’s cooking.” Ace breathed in the perfume of cinnamon and rich, strong coffee. “Now, that’s real food.”

  “Breakfast is ready, gentlemen.” Maggie set a platter of eggs and sausage and French toast on the table and began filling coffee cups. “You can dig in.”

  While his brothers eagerly took their places at the table, Chance crossed the room and poured himself a glass of water and took his time drinking it. When she returned the coffeepot to the counter he leaned against the sink watching her.

  Like Ace, he was dressed for business. The suit was custom-tailored, the tie silk.

  He kept his tone low enough for her ears only. “How’d you sleep, Maggie?”

  “Fine.” She avoided his eyes. “And you?”

  “Great. Just great.” A lie. One he’d never admit to her. He had tossed and turned half the night thinking about the way she’d felt in his arms. The way she’d tasted. It wasn’t like him to let someone get under his skin like this. It bothered him. She bothered him. Having her around was driving him crazy.

  “How are your rooms?” He inhaled her perfume, then cursed himself for more foolishness. He was behaving like an adolescent. “Are they comfortable enough?”

  “They’re fine. Very comfortable.”

  “Big enough for all your belongings?”

  “Of course. I told you, they’re fine.” She hoped he never discovered that she’d arrived with little more than the clothes on her back.

  She’d bought a few essentials in town, but they weren’t enough to fill a duffel bag.

  He shrugged. “I hate to admit it, but I haven’t both ered to even look in that part of the house in years. We had the suites added about fifteen years ago when we were finally able to afford to hire someone to come in and cook and clean for us. I hope they haven’t gotten shabby from neglect.”

  “Not at all. Don’t worry about it. They’re spotless. Agnes does a wonderful job of keeping them clean. The rooms suit my needs perfectly.”

  Ace looked over. “Hey. Are you two going to join us? Or are you leaving all this food for us?”

  Chance trailed Maggie to the table.

  As she took her seat, Ace helped himself to another piece of French toast and slathered it with syrup. “I saw Thelma last night. She wanted to know how things were working out, Maggie.”

  He winked. “I told her we’d have to chain you up and hold you prisoner if you tried to leave. And now that I’ve tasted this French toast, that goes double. You’d better not think about leaving us any time soon.”

  Maggie couldn’t help laughing. “Careful, Ace. All this flattery will go right to my head.” She could feel herself blushing as Chance turned to look at her. “And then I just might demand a raise.”

  Hazard picked up his cup and drained it. “With coffee this good, you’d be worth any price. So if you’re smart, you’ll ask for that raise right away. We’re already hooked on your cooking.” As he held out his cup for a refill he added, “I’m going into town today, Maggie. Would you like to go along and load up on some supplies?”

  She shook her head. “I’d rather stay here. But if you don’t mind, I’ll make
out a list of things I’d like.”

  “That’s fine. Any time you find yourself in need of groceries, you can always phone Kit Korson over at Korson’s Grain and Feed, and he’ll be happy to truck it out to you.”

  She paused. “Korson’s Grain and Feed?”

  At her puzzled look, the three brothers shared a laugh.

  “I guess to an outsider, that must sound strange,” Ace said. “But we’re so used to it, we never even question it. In our father’s day, it was strictly a grain storage. But as the town grew, so did the business. More and more people were moving in, with no place to buy decent food. So Korson’s became a place where a rancher could stock up on all his needs, for his herd or himself. Kit’s got everything from oats to oatmeal.”

  “That’s really one-stop shopping,” Maggie muttered as she circled the table filling their cups.

  “And then there’s Wanda’s Bait and Party Shoppe,” Hazard said, bringing another round of laughter.

  She looked over at him. “Is there really such a place?”

  “You bet.” He winked. “I guess that tells you the kind of parties they have in Prosperous.” Hazard drained his cup, then shoved away from the table and pulled on his parka. “Maggie, I’ll be back to pick up your list after I’ve taken care of a few things in the barn. And if I get too busy, I’ll send Cody around for it.”

  “All right.” She gave him a smile. “I’ll have my list ready.”

  By the time Hazard let himself out she was already checking the supplies in the freezer and cupboards.

  Minutes later Ace sauntered to the door, briefcase in hand. “I’m heading over to WildeMining. Don’t know if I’ll be back in time for dinner. I’ll have Cass phone later and let you know, Maggie.”

  “Cass?” Maggie gave him a blank look.

  “Cassidy Kellerman, my secretary.”

  “Your secretary?” Maggie suppressed a smile. It was hard for her to imagine this irreverent cowboy operating his own mining company and having a secretary. But then, she reminded herself, the fact that she was cooking on a ranch in Wyoming meant that anything was possible.