The Wildes of Wyoming: Chance

by Ruth Langan

  It occurred to Maggie that her romance with Chance was just about the worst-kept secret at the Double W.

  “Maggie Fuller.”

  At Thelma’s scratchy voice, several customers in the E.Z. Diner turned to stare at the woman in the doorway.

  “I was beginning to think you were never going to leave the Double W and come back for a visit.”

  “Hi, Thelma.” Maggie hurried forward to hug the woman who had first hired her when she’d stepped off a bus from Chicago. “You look…” She couldn’t help staring at Thelma’s bright orange hair and green lipstick and matching nail polish. “…very colorful today.”

  “Thanks, honey.” Thelma’s throaty laugh was a cross between a growl and a wheeze. “Park it, and I’ll pour you a cup.”

  Maggie sat at the counter and watched as Thelma planted a cup of coffee in front of her.

  “So. How’d you finally get a day in town?”

  “Hazard was coming in for supplies, and I thought I’d come along.”

  “About time. Well?” The older woman leaned a hip against the counter. “How’s it working out with the Wilde boys?”

  “It’s fine. Just fine.”

  “Fine?” Thelma’s already arched brows shot up like exclamation points. “Is that all you can say about it?”

  “Okay. It’s a wonderful place to work. Thelma, I had no idea how big it was. I guess I was expecting an ordinary ranch house. But it’s huge. There’s so much space to just wander around and get lost. And the working conditions are the best. I’m free to cook whatever I want.”

  “How about Agnes? How are you getting along with the old grouch?”

  “Shh. Thelma.” Maggie glanced around, hoping nobody had overheard. “She’s not an old grouch. She and I are getting along just fine.”

  “Well, that’s some kind of record. You mean to tell me the two of you aren’t at each other’s throats?”

  Maggie grinned. “She wasn’t very fond of me at first.”

  “Fond of?” Thelma snorted. “Come on, Maggie. This is me, Thel. No need to use fancy words.”

  “Okay. She didn’t like me at all, at first. But I think that’s changing. Now that she’s stopped seeing me as a competitor, she’s actually starting to come around. I think, in time, we might even become friends.”

  “Will wonders never cease? That old woman hasn’t liked anyone in the entire state of Wyoming, except the Wilde brothers, since her husband died.”

  “Maybe she’s just lonesome.”

  Thelma shook her head. “Okay. Tell me about working for the Wildes.”

  “They seem really happy with my cooking. At least, so far there have been no complaints.”

  “Didn’t I tell you?” Thelma’s voice lowered. “And didn’t I tell you they were great guys?”

  “Yes. You did.” Maggie stirred cream into her coffee. “I’m really grateful, Thelma. For everything.”

  “Uh-huh.” The older woman brushed a speck of imaginary lint from the lacy handkerchief pinned to her pocket. It was plain that she was uncomfortable with any expression of gratitude. “I didn’t do anything. You’re the one with the talent. I just steered you their way when I knew I was going to have to make room for Slocum to come back to work.”

  “I understand.”

  Maggie glanced at the man busy working at the grill. Thelma followed her glance.

  “I know,” the older woman said under her breath. “He’s not much to look at. And not very dependable. But he’s good to me. And he keeps my bed warm on cold winter nights.”

  Maggie couldn’t help chuckling at her honesty.

  “How about your bed?” Thelma studied her more closely. “You’re not looking nearly as scared as when I first met you. In fact, you’re looking downright satisfied.”

  Maggie was relieved when two customers chose that moment to walk in, causing a distraction.

  Thelma pulled the pencil from behind her ear and made her way to their table. Minutes later she returned, shouting the orders to her cook. A short time later, after serving them, she sidled up beside Maggie.

  “Don’t think I haven’t forgotten where we left off.” She leaned close. “So. Which brother snagged your interest?”

  “Thelma!” Maggie tried to look indignant, but the older woman wasn’t fooled.

  “Save that for somebody else, honey. Now tell me why you’re looking so good. Is it Ace?” She gave an exaggerated sigh. “He’s my little sweetheart. If I was twenty years younger.” She paused. “If I was thirty years younger.” She winked. “Okay. If I was forty years younger, I’d make a play for that one.”

  Maggie couldn’t help laughing. “Thelma, you’re outrageous.”

  “Okay. Forget Ace. Is it Hazard? That big, muscular rancher makes all the girls’ hearts flutter. But he’s a shy one. That’d probably appeal to you.”

  “Oh, Thelma.” Maggie shook her head. “I’m not interested in any of the Wilde brothers.”

  “Uh-huh.” Thelma studied her a moment, then said, “It’s not Ace, and it’s not Hazard. I guess that only leaves Chance.”

  Maggie schooled her features and held her silence.

  Thelma slapped her on the shoulder and gave a loud hoot. “Well, if you aren’t the coy one. And why not go for the oldest brother? He’s so sexy, I nearly swoon every time I look at him. But honey, you’ve got a tough bull by the horns with that one. I hope you’re up to it. He’s resisted every advance ever made on his hide. Why, every woman in Wyoming over the age of reason has tried and failed with Chance Wilde.”

  Maggie shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve got to run, Thelma.”

  “Yep. I know just what you’re saying, honey. That’s your story, and you’re sticking to it. But old Thel knows better.”

  Maggie could feel her cheeks growing hot. She stood, leaving half a cup of coffee. “Sorry I have to run. But I promised to meet Hazard and Cody over at the This N That Shop.”

  “Sure thing, honey. You run along.” Thelma winked. “And next time you stop by, you’d better be ready to fill me in. Or you might just find me parked on your doorstep out at the Double W looking for all the juicy details.”

  Maggie made a fast exit, grateful that she actually did have to make a couple of purchases at the This N That Shop, so that she wouldn’t feel like such a liar. The truth was, she just wasn’t ready to talk about her feelings where Chance was concerned. She was in way over her head. But there was too much going on in her life. Too much that could send her off and running without a moment’s notice. Until she could sort through the baggage she’d brought with her, she couldn’t possibly sort out what to do about her feelings for Chance.

  Mulling over her dilemma, she wandered through town, stopping at Wanda’s Bait and Party Shoppe, then moving on to the This N That Shop, where she made several hasty purchases.

  As she walked through the town, it occurred to her that it was the first time since she’d fled Chicago that she had felt safe walking alone. But, she reminded her self, this was Prosperous, Wyoming. Who could ever find her here?

  “Mr. Wilde.” The voice on the other end of the phone spoke in quick, staccato phrases, with a hint of Long Island roots.

  Chance sat a little straighter in the leather recliner of his jet. The trip to Dallas had gone smoothly, and the business had been concluded in two days. Now, as the plane crossed into Wyoming, he held the phone to his ear. “What did you find out, Thorpe?”

  “It didn’t take much digging. Most of it was common knowledge in Chicago. But I knew you’d want a thorough report, so I dug a little deeper.”

  As the voice droned on, Chance’s eyes narrowed. “Fax me that report. Now.”

  “Yes, sir. Right away. And as soon as I turn up more, I’ll get it to you. Besides the newspaper accounts, I think I’ll be able to get hold of the police report. I’ve got an old friend in the Chicago D.A.’s office.”

  “Good. And Thorpe—keep digging. As deep as you have to. I want it all.”


  After he hung up, Chance drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, waiting for the fax to come through. As soon as it did, he read every word, before looking up with a hiss of disgust. So much for his hope of a simple solution to Maggie’s problems. According to this, she was up to her eyebrows in trouble.

  “Oh, how I’ve missed you.” Maggie could barely get the words out as they tugged at each other’s clothes and rolled around on the bed.

  His hands and mouth were everywhere, burning a trail of fire across her naked flesh.

  “Not as much as I missed you.” He couldn’t believe the feelings that poured from him. Feelings he hadn’t even known he was capable of until he’d walked through the door and caught sight of her standing there at the table, just tidying up after dinner.

  One silent look at his brothers and they’d given him a wide berth, finding chores that suddenly required their immediate attention.

  “I didn’t believe it was possible to be this homesick in just two days.” He lingered over her mouth, loving the clean, fresh taste of her.

  “Has it been only two days?” She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her lips to the hollow of his throat, loving the way he sighed with pure pleasure. “It felt like weeks.”

  “I know. The first night in the hotel was the longest of my life. Last night wasn’t nearly as bad, because I knew the contracts would be signed this afternoon, and barring any delays, I’d be on my way home to you.” He paused. Lifted his head. “I like the sound of that. Home to you.”

  Maggie thought her heart might explode with happiness as he lowered his mouth to hers. And then, with soft sighs and whispered words of love, they melted into one another. The need for words was long past.

  “I’m relieved to have those contracts signed, sealed and delivered.” Chance handed Maggie a tulip glass filled with champagne, before settling himself in bed beside her.

  “Were there any problems?” She looked pleasantly sated, with her hair mussed and her skin flushed from lovemaking. She had pulled on his starched white shirt to cover her nakedness.

  He found himself thinking that a woman could look far better in white shirts than any man. The thought had him smiling as he shook his head. “No problems. This time it went without a hitch.”

  “I’m glad.” She handed him a crusty roll piled with thin slices of prime rib left over from dinner.

  He took a bite, then washed it down with champagne, before handing the glass back to her.

  “I wasn’t expecting any problems. The firm I hired boasts a ninety-five-percent success rate on all their cases.”

  “Cases?” Maggie looked up. “What sort of cases?”

  “Fraud. Theft. Corporate spying.”

  “You think Avery Simmons is involved in corporate spying?”

  “I think someone is. That contract didn’t just change itself. Before they’re through, Thorpe and Associates will know as much about my employees as they know about themselves. And someone in my employ is going to get more than he bargained for in his paycheck.”

  “A pink slip?”

  “More than that. A summons. I intend to sue the guilty party for fraud.”

  “Serves him right.” She sipped champagne and leaned back against the pillows. “I hate stealing.”

  He heard the venom in her tone and paused for a beat, hoping to give her as much time as she needed. “Thieves rarely just steal our money or possessions. They steal much more: our confidence. Whether it’s confidence in ourselves or in someone else. In my case, I’ve begun to mistrust all those employees who deal with the contracts. And that’s so unfair to them. They deserve better. They deserve my trust. But lately, I can’t trust any of them.”

  When she remained silent he turned to her. “How about you, Maggie? Any problems while I was gone?”

  She shook her head. “No problems. I had a visit with Thelma in town. Kit Korson had all the supplies I needed. Life’s good.”

  “Yeah.” He was staring at her in a way that always made her uncomfortable. As though studying her under a microscope. “It could be a whole lot better.”

  She felt a tiny flutter around her heart. “How?”

  “If you’d trust me.”

  Her smile slipped a notch. “I told you, Chance. I do trust you.”

  “But not enough to share any real secrets.”

  She flounced off the bed, unwilling to sit quietly under his scrutiny. “Maybe I just don’t have any secrets to share.”

  He watched as she stalked to the window and stared into the darkness. He could read her agitation—in the way her hands clenched into fists at her sides, in the way she held herself so rigidly as she stared pointedly out the window, refusing to look at him.

  “Don’t you?”

  “No.”

  His voice was ominously calm. “All right. I didn’t want to have to say this. But it’s time for some honesty.”

  He stared at her stiff spine, her jutting jaw, and wished he knew how to soften the blow.

  On a sigh, he said tiredly, “Maybe Maggie Fuller doesn’t have any secrets. But Margaret Mary Trainor has a closet-full.”

  Chapter 11

  Maggie’s head came up sharply.

  “You spied on me!” With a look of fury she turned so quickly the champagne sloshed over the rim of the glass and stained the front of the white shirt. She took no notice. All she could see was Chance’s eyes, narrowed on her.

  “That’s right. But only because I want to help you.”

  She was already shaking her head. “You can’t help me, Chance. Nobody can.”

  “How do you know that, unless you give me a chance.” He shot her that silly, heart-stopping grin, hoping to diffuse the volatile situation. “After all, it is my name. Now, about yours…”

  His ploy worked. Defeated, she took a deep breath. “I’ve always been Maggie. I was christened Margaret Mary Trainor.”

  “And the Fuller?”

  She looked down at the glass in her hand. “Fuller was my mother’s maiden name. It was the first thing that came to mind when Thelma offered to hire me and asked my name.”

  “And you couldn’t use your own name.”

  “No.” She looked up. “I’m not very good at lying.”

  “So I’ve noticed.”

  “How much do you know?”

  He crossed the room and removed the fax from his suit-coat pocket then read aloud, “Margaret Mary Trainor, cook and co-owner of Feast, a four-star restaurant in Chicago, has been missing now for more than a month. After her disappearance it was learned that the restaurant’s bank account had been emptied and the books were missing. The authorities believe that she absconded with funds to thwart her business partner and brother-in-law, Ray Collier, who had arranged for the sale of their restaurant. The Chicago News reports that Detective Ray Collier, a much-decorated police officer with the Chicago force, had been married to Eve Trainor, late sister of the missing woman. Collier has stated that, despite the charges of embezzlement against Ms. Trainor, he will reserve judgment until she can be found and brought to trial. The restaurant will continue to operate under his management until such time.”

  He looked up. “Did the report miss anything?”

  She shook her head. “Not much.”

  He paused. “So?”

  Maggie shrugged. “It’s true that the funds are missing. By my account there was a hundred thousand in the bank to pay salaries and taxes. As for the books, I’m sure by now they’ve been destroyed, so there’s no way to determine just how much money has been stolen or misappropriated. But I give you my word, Chance. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “Okay.” Chance smoothed out the pages of the fax and handed them to Maggie.

  She accepted them without looking at them. She was too busy staring at him.

  She perched on the edge of the desk. “What do you mean okay?”

  “Okay. You didn’t do it. Was it your partner, Ray Collier?”

  She swallowed,
then nodded. “Yes. But I…didn’t expect someone like you to accept me at my word.”

  “Someone like me?”

  “You know what people say about you. You’re tough and shrewd and demanding in business. I’ve heard you admit as much.”

  “What’s that got to do with believing you?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “I just thought…” she gave a long, deep sigh. “I have no proof.”

  “That doesn’t matter, Maggie. I know you.” He took her hand and studied it, so small against his. “Now why don’t you tell me what really happened?”

  She took a deep breath. “I’ll try. I’ve never had the chance to say the words aloud until now.” She waited a moment, sorting her thoughts. “Ray Collier was married to my sister, Eve. At the time I was working as head chef at the Drake and dreaming about owning my own restaurant. It was Eve who got me to agree to be Ray’s partner in business. I think she thought it would bring us all closer together.”

  “So you agreed to go into business with him?”

  She nodded. “Eve and I each put up one hundred thousand dollars.”

  “That’s a lot of money.”

  “I know. It was part of the estate left us by our par ents. Along with the money, I pledged my time and talent in the kitchen, while Ray pledged to handle the business end of the partnership. He would hire and fire and deal with the ledgers before they went to the accountants. It seemed a fair division of time, money and talent.” She paused a moment and looked away. “Shortly after we got the business up and running, Eve died suddenly. An aneurysm, the doctor said. I was so stunned, I guess I walked around in a fog for weeks. I couldn’t have told you what was going on around me. All I did was show up for work, cook for hours and then fall into bed. And then I got hit with another blow. My kitchen manager had an argument with Ray and was fired. Before she left, she told me I’d be wise to open my eyes and take a good, hard look at what was going on with the business. When I did, I found dozens of unpaid bills for food and liquor orders. Some of the suppliers wouldn’t even deliver any longer, unless we were willing to pay cash. What was worse, I found my signature forged on documents. They weren’t even a good forgery. There was no attempt to make the signature look like my writing. So I decided, then and there, to start taking a closer look at the business end of the operation.” Her tone lowered. “I found that none of the figures Ray was giving to the accountant matched mine.”