Second Chances

by Denise Belinda McDonald

Jacob shuddered again. He couldn’t imagine being shackled for so many years.

  “What?” A wry smile tipped the corner of her mouth. “You’re not a fan of marriage?”

  “Hardly.”

  “Why? A woman do you wrong?” Zan crossed her arms over her chest and turned toward him.

  All of them so far, he wanted to say, but didn’t. Instead, he went with the first. “Yeah, my mother.”

  Zan’s mouth rounded, but she didn’t speak.

  “She ran out on me and my dad when I was ten. Haven’t heard from her since. She didn’t take those marriage vows too seriously.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yeah, well, we learned to live with it.” Jacob paused then said, “So, you going trick-or-treating tonight?” He wanted to change the subject off his life.

  Zan scrunched her forehead then laughed. “No, I think I’ll pass.” Zan’s stomach growled. “Excuse me. I missed dinner tonight. Right before we closed, we had an emergency come in. It was dark by the time I got out and I didn’t want to be headed out here too late.” Zan’s face pinkened.

  “You skipped dinner to come talk to me?” The funny gut thing swirled in Jacob. She’d hurried…to come see him. “I can cook you something. It’s the least I can do since I made you miss dinner.” He stood and held out his hand to her.

  She took his hand and followed him into the kitchen. “You can cook?”

  “Of course I can. A boy has to eat doesn’t he?”

  “A boy?” She snorted.

  He ignored her un-ladylike laughter, although it was darn cute. “Going on cattle drives is limiting for ‘dine in’ eating.”

  “What else do you do beside ranching and cooking?” she asked with a wry smile on her lips.

  Jacob didn’t answer. He rummaged through a pantry and pulled out ingredients for spaghetti. Pots clanged on the stove and he kept his back to her.

  “Are you going to answer my question?” she prodded.

  “I sing,” he said so low he knew she couldn’t hear him.

  “What’s that?” She stepped closer and he could smell her vanilla and sugar scent.

  “I sing,” he said louder and finally turned to look at her. The men on the cattle drives knew he sang. Each night, the men sat around the campfire and Jacob would regale them with old western songs. Hank always accompanied him on the harmonica as the men used the time to wind down.

  “Really? I’d like to hear something.”

  “Uh…no.” It came out harsher than he meant it to. “I don’t think so.” He had never sung for a woman before. Never.

  “Oh, okay.” Zan’s smile faltered. The disappointment on her face ate away at him.

  He’d never opened up that part of himself to any woman before. He didn’t think he ever could. It was selfish, but he couldn’t help it.

  For some reason when he sang for the men on the cattle drives that was okay, but he had always felt like he gave away too much of himself to let someone else hear him.

  Zan looked at her watch then backed up without full eye contact with Jacob. “Whoa, look at the time. Thanks for offering to cook dinner for me, but I really should be getting back. It’s late.” She turned and headed out of the kitchen.

  Jacob just stood staring at the food on the counter. He had handled that swell. With a quick shake of his head, he said, “Hang on, Zan. I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Chapter Seven

  A loud clap of thunder jolted Zan upright in her chair. The rain fell steady all day and by the evening her dampened spirit matched the earth outside. Nearly two weeks passed and she hadn’t heard a word from Jacob.

  Not that she’d tried to call him either. But still…

  The bell above the front door of the clinic clanged, drawing her eyes. The darkened sky outside threw the room into deep shadows where the industrial florescent lights missed. At first Zan couldn’t tell who was removing their raincoat, but then the broad shoulders moved and she instantly recognized the man. Jacob. He shook water from his Stetson. Then he looked up at her. When he pinned her with his gaze, her stomach flipped and left her lightheaded.

  “Hi.” He smiled and walked to the counter.

  “Hi. What are you doing out on such a nasty day?” Zan stood so his height didn’t completely tower over her.

  “I wanted to see you.”

  That flipping in her stomach increased. Her knees wobbled, but she managed to stay vertical. “O…okay.”

  “I know I should have called first, but…” He looked down. Color stained his cheeks. “We’re heading out tomorrow for a while. And I wanted to see you.” He looked back up at her. His eyes looked hopeful. “Can you… That is, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

  Electricity zinged down her spine. She fought back a sigh of relief at his question. “I’d like that. Can you give me a few minutes to close up here?” Zan was already shutting down the computer.

  Moments later, she locked the front door to the clinic and they stood huddled under the awning. “We can drop your car at your house if you’d like,” Jacob suggested. “That way we don’t have to take two.”

  Zan nodded and they both dashed through the rain to their vehicles. She was giggling by the time she got in her car. Giggling. She couldn’t remember the last time she giggled.

  It took them no time to drop off her car. In the front seat of Jacob’s truck, still parked in front of her house, they sat in silence for a moment. “We look like a couple of drowned rats.” Zan pushed back the wet strands of hair that clung to her forehead. “Or at least I do. You have on a hat and a raincoat.”

  Her thoughts that morning had been of Jacob, knowing he would be gone for the next couple of weeks. Absent-minded and downright depressed, she’d neglected to check the weather. It took her several steps toward her car to realize it was raining and at that point, she might as well keep going. Now with water pouring off her, she wished she had gone back in for her slicker.

  Jacob eyed her for a minute then opened the door to the truck.

  Zan frowned. “What’re you doing?”

  He stepped out of the truck, tugged off his raincoat and hat then tossed them on the front seat.

  “Jacob.”

  He held his arms out and tipped his head back. The rain soaked and darkened the front of his denim shirt.

  “You’re insane. Get back in here.” Zan laughed so hard tears ran down her face.

  When he finally got back in the truck, water ran in streams off his hair. His eyes sparkled with mischief. “There. Now we’re even.” He leaned across the cab and captured her mouth.

  It was a damn good thing she was sitting down. She didn’t think her knees could have held her at that point. She leaned in and tried to deepen the kiss, but Jacob pulled back. He released her and looked into her eyes. When she expected him to grab her again, he righted himself in front of the steering column. “Ready to eat?”

  The about-face stunned her mute. Then she swallowed and found her voice, however inarticulate. “Uh, yeah.”

  Jacob started the truck and blasted the heater, but it did little to keep Zan from the shivers. She’d run in and change her sweater and grab a jacket, but she didn’t want to take the time to dry her hair. Jacob had pulled off his wet over shirt and sat in his tee and raincoat.

  By the time they reached the restaurant, which sat out on a lonely stretch of country road fifteen miles outside of Paintbrush, she’d warmed up a little. Despite her wet hair, and despite his abrupt departure from their kiss, she was happy being with Jacob.

  The water coming down in icy cold beads pelted their coats as they ran to the door of the restaurant. “Do you think we should go in looking like this?” Zan looked at the brick, brownstone building. She tried to do something with her hair, but it lay limp against her head. What was the caliber of patron who would eat at the place? The classy New York style building boded a dress code despite its incongruity sitting beside an old, ramshackle gas station out in the middle of Nowhere, Wyoming.r />
  Jacob laughed and took her hand to lead her into the restaurant. He didn’t even bother to answer her question. The door opened and a cacophony of laughter and loud music spilled out. A black-haired beauty greeted them just inside.

  “Jacob!” The woman came from behind the hostess podium. She threw her arms around Jacob’s neck and dislodged Zan’s hand from his. Instant irritation flared as the woman planted a noisy kiss square on his mouth.

  “Katie.” Jacob made no attempt to free himself from the woman.

  Zan shifted from foot to foot, watching the massive public display of affection.

  In her soaking wet chinos and white oxford she grew tired of waiting for the two to quit making goo-goo eyes at one another and cleared her throat.

  Jacob looked at her with an apologetic grin. A grin that widened when she raised an eyebrow in annoyance.

  “Katie Eubanks, I’d like you to meet Zan Walters. Zan this is my friend, Katie.”

  “I gathered as much,” she said dryly.

  A huge, huge burly man came up behind Katie and threw an arm over her shoulders before Zan could say anything else. “You making eyes at my woman again, Bowman?” The man scowled.

  Zan stepped closer to Jacob.

  “Get a grip, Moose,” Jacob said with an even snarl. “And if I was, she’d be gone from you in a second.” He snapped his fingers.

  Zan’s eyes widened. Her throat tightened and her stomach clutched. “Jacob, I think…”

  “Jerk,” the large man said, but instead of his scowl, a smile broke across his face. Then he punched Jacob in the arm. “You old son of a gun. Where’ve you been?”

  Jacob rubbed his arm and smiled back. “Around. Kyle, I’d like you to meet Zan Walters. Zan this is my cousin Kyle Eubanks, otherwise known as Moose.”

  “Eubanks? As in…” she motioned to Katie before she took the man’s outstretched hand.

  “Yep. For some God unknown reason she married this lug instead of me.” He smiled again.

  Zan, however, wasn’t sure if he was teasing or not.

  “Moose’s also the owner of this fine establishment, which usually serves food. Can we get a table or do we have to wither away here by the door?”

  Kyle, a.k.a. Moose, rolled his eyes and waved a hand for them to follow him.

  They weaved through crowded tables, the din of the room threatened to pop Zan’s eardrums. When they paused to let a waiter by, Zan had to press her body up tightly to Jacob’s and put her mouth practically on his ear to ask a question. “So, why do they call him Moose? Because of his size?”

  He shivered against her, then he turned his mouth to her ear. “No. He used to watch Rocky and Bullwinkle to the point of obsession.”

  ———

  Once situated at a table, Moose left them. “Is this place okay with you?” He looked around the restaurant.

  “Yeah, it’s great. I can’t believe this place is out here. It looks like something from a big city.” Zan’s raised voice carried over the table to Jacob.

  Jacob smiled at her approval. He hadn’t realized he wanted to impress her so badly until they pulled up in front of Kyle’s. He had brought other dates here before, but never had he cared for their opinion.

  “I’m glad you like it,” he said with all honesty.

  She looked up from the menu. “What’s it called, by the way?”

  “Dominique’s. Moose and Katie met in New York City and supposedly fell in love in a restaurant similar to this. When they decided to open a place of their own, they had this built and named it after the owner from New York.”

  “How romantic.” A dreamy look crossed her face before she looked back at her menu.

  Jacob started to sneer and tell her romance didn’t exist, but the deep-seated emotions that normally tainted his feelings didn’t stir. It scared him. But now wasn’t the time or place to worry about it, though.

  “So you guys are going to round up the cows tomorrow?” Zan asked in a raised voice.

  “The herd you mean? Yeah. We’ll be gone for two weeks or so.”

  She nodded and looked away. Jacob watched her read the menu. His heart sped up a few beats when she took her lower lip between her teeth. He didn’t think she was even aware of what she was doing. The day she had come out to the ranch, he had watched her with Doc and noticed she did that when she concentrated. It was incredibly sexy. And distracting.

  She looked up and said something to him, but he couldn’t hear with all the noise around them. “Sorry, what was that?”

  Zan sat very still for a moment without a word, then got up and moved to the chair next to his. “It’s not very easy to talk across the table with all the noise in here. Is it always like this?”

  “Usually.”

  “Hmm. What I said was that sounds exciting, rounding up the cattle.”

  “It can be.” He found it difficult to think or speak with her so close. Twice her knee rubbed up against his, jolting him.

  “I always wanted to go on a round up.” Her voice had a wistful sound. “But my grandfather always said, ‘Zan, honey, it’s okay for a girl to ride, but when it comes to the work, that’s for the men.’ He was a wee bit sexist,” she added with a smile.

  “You know how to ride?”

  The waiter came and interrupted them before she could answer. They ordered from the menu that Moose referred to as American Cuisine. He had everything from Mexican to Italian to good old home cooking, which he said makes up America, so he’d put it all in. And who would argue with Moose?

  “You ride?” he asked again once the waiter left.

  “Of course I do. I grew up in Texas. It’s the law.” She stared at him for a moment then laughed. Lines crinkled the corners of her slate eyes. “Seriously, though. Not all Texans can ride, but my grandfather had a farm. Nothing big or fancy like the Cates’. But he taught us all how to ride. My nephew and I used to race across the pasture when Grandpa wasn’t looking.”

  Jacob raised an eyebrow.

  “He didn’t like me to run the horses. Again—he’s a sexist. He thought a girl could get hurt.”

  “You still ride?” Jacob was fascinated watching her talk. Her face lit up when she spoke of her family.

  “No. He sold the farm about six years ago—he’s ninety-five now. And I haven’t had a chance since then.”

  “Come out to the ranch some time and we can go. I only have Stella—my horse. But I’m sure the Cates will let you ride one of theirs.”

  “You mean it?”

  The smile that spread across her face nearly knocked the wind out of him. He had never seen the look of pure delight on her before. All he knew was he wanted to see it again, and he wanted to be the one that put it there.

  “Sure, anytime.”

  The waiter brought their food, which halted his and Zan’s conversation. For a while they just ate, savoring the taste of the wonderful dinner.

  “I can’t believe this food. It’s fantastic.”

  “Well, maybe we could come here again.”

  Zan looked up from her plate of lasagna. “Maybe.” She smiled her hundred-watt smile again.

  He caught her eyeing the pot roast he ordered. “Yeah, I know. I could have gotten this at the diner, but I like the stuff.”

  “It’s not that, I just thought…it looks…good.”

  “Want a bite?”

  “Yes, please.” Her voice was breathy, almost sexual.

  Jacob chided himself for his overactive imagination, and libido, and forked some of the roast on his plate. As he held it up to Zan’s mouth, a smile crossed her face just before she took the bite. He watched her eyes close as she slid her lips from the fork and he instantly grew hard. He almost exploded when she moaned.

  “Oooh, this is wonderful.” Her husky voice arrested his pulse.

  Jacob had to force the breath in and out of his lungs. The desire that had raged in him when he’d kissed her reignited, only to burn twice as hot. He wanted her, in a bad way.

  “Zan,
I…” A harsh slap on the back stopped him before he finish his comment.

  “How’s the food, guys?” Moose asked as he plunked his heavy frame down in the chair across from Jacob.

  “It’s fantastic.”

  A smile broke across his cousin’s face. “Well, thank you.” Kyle openly appraised Jacob’s date, his gaze raked over her. Her now-dry hair spiked away from her ivory face. Her cheeks flushed with the warmth of the room. Full lips which begged to be kissed. She was beautiful. And Kyle looked smitten.

  A spark of possessiveness washed though Jacob. Kyle was married and Zan was his woman.

  His woman?

  His woman? Jacob, stunned by his thoughts, tried to take a mental step back. When had he gone from thinking of Zan as a friend, a date, to his woman? He barely knew her.

  Oh, but what he did know he liked.

  He liked her dedication to her job. He couldn’t keep track of how many people had commented on what a good assistant she made Doc. He liked the closeness she had with her family. She spoke often of her older brothers and their families.

  Most—or worst, depending on how he looked at it—of all, he craved the way she felt in his arms. It had yet to leave his waking or sleeping conscious. He remembered her lips on his. The warmth of her hand on his skin. And… He was a goner. No woman had ever touched him so profoundly.

  Again, that scared the hell out of him. His fear, like a bucket of ice water, cooled his emotions. Gave him the clarity he needed to think straight, rational. He needed to back off, let things cool down. He’d be gone for two weeks, enough time to clear his head, his system. The cattle round up would be the perfect way to put Zan Walters far enough out of reach to keep him from falling over the edge.

  ———

  Jacob scarcely said a word the entire ride back to Zan’s house. Fortunately, the rain had finally stopped and the clouds disappeared as if they had never been there. The dark, clear night enveloped them in an intimate embrace as they drove down the highway. A wasted intimacy for the silent, rigid man who sat next to her.

  A strange look had come over his face at the restaurant when his cousin had sat down with them after the meal. He hadn’t been the same since. She fought to think of some sort of small talk to engage him, but found none. Finally, she remembered the fall festival. “Will you be back in time for the Festival?”