Ambushed!

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Gabe watched Morgan to make sure she didn’t use this interruption to sneak out, but she hurried back to her chair beside him.

  Once Nick sat down, Gabe leaned toward him. “Does Mom know about this?”

  “Yeah, and Jack and Emmett and Mary Lou. You would’ve, too, but you were over dealing with the Appaloosa.”

  “Must’ve been a pretty quiet announcement. I didn’t hear any commotion over there.”

  “It was a quietly emotional announcement, not a wild and crazy one. Mom’s feeling kind of teary today, anyway, and this started up the waterworks again. You know how Jack gets when she cries.”

  Gabe’s gut tightened. “Speaking of Jack, I—”

  “Here are your watermelon wedges, ladies and gents.” Edgar came over with two plates and Madge followed with two more. On each plate sat a quarter of a melon sliced lengthwise. The process was repeated until all ten contestants had watermelon.

  “We’ll talk,” Nick said. “But not now.”

  “Nope, not now.” Gabe tucked his Stetson under his chair before giving Nick and then Morgan the evil eye.

  “I hope you both know you’re going down.”

  Excitement sparkled in Morgan’s blue-green gaze. “We’ll just see about that, Gabe Chance.” Pulling a scrunchie out of her pocket, she tied back her hair. “I intend to chomp my way to victory.”

  Now that was the Morgan he liked to see—full of piss and vinegar. He thought again about that Italian mother of hers. This could be a very interesting day, and quite possibly a more interesting night.

  4

  WHEN MORGAN had heard about the watermelon-eating contest a week ago, she’d decided to sign up for it, as well as any other activity going on during the celebration. She’d always enjoyed contests, but her parents frowned on competition. Besides, their wanderlust had pretty much guaranteed Morgan wouldn’t be playing organized sports.

  Watermelon-eating wasn’t exactly a sport, but she would take what she could get, although she hadn’t expected to be squaring off against the Chance brothers. Somewhere she’d heard that a woman had to be careful of a man’s ego and not beat him at games. Forget that noise. As long as she was here, she planned to whip everyone at this table, including the gorgeous Gabe Chance.

  Edgar Perkins raised his hand. “The rules are that you may not hold on to the plate. You can touch it to pull it closer, but you may not hold on. Anyone caught holding the plate will be disqualified. We’ll start on my signal.”

  Morgan’s blood was up. After her set-to with Jack she’d headed to town ready to show everyone this girl knew how to have a good time. She’d changed her shirt because it was a pain in the ass having to worry about that snap, but otherwise, she intended to enjoy herself fully.

  Then Gabe had appeared, and her bravado had disappeared. His family didn’t like her, so she’d decided she didn’t like them, either, and that had to include Gabe. No doubt he’d choose pleasing his family over pleasing her, so why bother with him? She’d only set herself up for heartbreak.

  Madge Perkins hadn’t made it easy to duck out, though, and now Morgan had recommitted herself to the contest and to a day of fun. Gabe’s mother and his oldest brother weren’t around, so if he wanted to share that day with her, she wouldn’t push him away. It was a free country—which was what they were celebrating—after all.

  “On my signal,” said Edgar. “Ready, set, go!”

  Morgan dove in. She ate without stopping, swallowing pieces whole and biting off gigantic chunks of the sweet melon. She swallowed her share of seeds in the process.

  She might be sick after this, but she didn’t care. Watermelon juice coated her mouth and her chin. As she buried her face deep in the cool pulp, even her cheeks became slicked with pink slime.

  She paid no attention to Gabe, chomping away on his melon next to her. Focus was the name of the game. But even through her intense concentration she heard people starting to chant her name. Dominique was pulling for Nick, of course. All the other contestants, including Gabe, had cheering sections. But Morgan didn’t know many people, so if they were shouting her name, she must be ahead.

  She ate faster and realized Edgar was leaning close, watching her and Gabe intently. She was down to the white part when he sang out “winner!” Looking up, she discovered Edgar’s hand poised over her head. She’d done it. “Congratulations, champ.”

  She turned, her chin dripping with juice, to find Gabe in the same condition, and he was grinning at her.

  “You did it.” He didn’t sound upset. He even seemed happy that she’d won. Then he did the most amazing thing. He put his hand behind her head, pulled her close, and kissed her, watermelon juice and all.

  A cheer went up from the crowd.

  Morgan was too shocked to react at first. Gabe was kissing her? In public? When they were both totally slimed with watermelon juice?

  Then the heat of his kiss began to register. He was using his tongue. And so was she. Watermelon juice made for one sexy kissing session.

  She forgot where they were. She forgot to breathe. She forgot her name. Whistling and stomping noises caused her to realize vaguely that their behavior wasn’t particularly appropriate for this venue. Even so, she had the urge to pull Gabe under the table and continue the kiss a long time.

  Mercifully, he drew back before she did something really embarrassing. A low chuckle rich with implications told her that he’d been a little surprised by the intensity, too. “We might want to try that again sometime,” he murmured.

  She lifted heavy-lidded eyes to his. “I’m game.”

  “So I gathered.”

  Edgar approached with the prize, which was a gift certificate for two lunches at the Shoshone Diner. “Well, Gabe, you are sure a good loser. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a good loser in my life.”

  “No kidding,” Nick said. “Good thing I didn’t win. I don’t think I could have handled playing tonsil hockey with my brother.”

  Dominique walked forward. “Wanna see the pics?”

  “You took pictures?” Morgan wasn’t so sure about that.

  “Get used to it,” Nick said. “Dominique takes pictures of everything. Don’t be surprised if this ends up in a gallery in Jackson, although I promise she’ll ask first.”

  “Don’t worry,” Dominique said. “Just say the word and I’ll delete it. But I hope you don’t tell me to, because I think it’s great.” She turned the camera so that Morgan could see the shot on the back screen.

  There she was, kissing Gabe for all she was worth. Good thing he was kissing her for all he was worth, too, or she’d have been mortified. As it was, she was sort of…fascinated. She’d never seen a picture of herself kissing anyone, let alone a hottie like Gabe Chance. She couldn’t look away. The photo captured exactly what she’d been feeling—wonder, passion, discovery.

  “I want a copy,” Gabe said.

  She stared at him. “You do?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled at her. “Wouldn’t you like one, too? To commemorate winning the watermelon-eating contest?”

  “Maybe.” She thought about it. “But what would you be commemorating?”

  His gaze was open and his voice rang with sincerity. “Our first kiss.”

  A chorus of awww went up from the crowd.

  Morgan felt as if someone had poured warm syrup in the general area of her heart. She couldn’t remember any guy saying something that sweet to her. She studied Gabe to make sure he wasn’t poking fun, but she saw no evidence that he was.

  “I’ll be happy to get each of you copies,” Dominique said. “But how would you feel about me turning it into a gallery shot?”

  Gabe shrugged. “It’s okay with me.”

  Morgan wondered if he’d thought about potential consequences. “Maybe you should check with your family first.”

  Gabe didn’t hesitate. “It’s none of their business.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Nick pushed back his chair and accepted one of the wipe cloths Madge
handed to each of the contestants. “Maintaining the Chance family reputation has been highly overrated, wouldn’t you say, little brother?”

  “That’s for sure, big brother.” From his tone of voice, Gabe seemed to be making more than a casual remark.

  Morgan recognized the kind of unspoken communication that happened between siblings. She and her brothers and sisters, all seven of them, shared certain truths that could only come from weathering a common past. From the look that passed between Nick and Gabe, she gathered that both of them had some problems with what had happened in that shared past. Well, join the club.

  “Sack races in fifteen minutes!” shouted someone from the door of the Shoshone Feed Store. “Come collect your sacks if you’re gonna be in it!”

  “That’s me,” Gabe said. “Morgan, are you up for this?”

  She grinned at him. “You couldn’t keep me away.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. Nick? You racing?”

  “Yes, he is,” said Dominique. “I made him promise to be in everything so I could take pictures.”

  Nick groaned. “Pictures that will be used against me when we have kids.”

  “And grandkids!” Dominique said, laughing.

  Morgan listened without a smidgen of envy. As the oldest in a large family, she’d grown up taking care of her brothers and sisters and in many cases sacrificing her own needs to theirs. She wouldn’t mind hooking up with someone for fun and games, but she wanted to enjoy her freedom a while longer. The idea of having kids didn’t excite her at all.

  GABE HADN’T MINDED losing the watermelon-eating contest, but the sack race was going to be all his. When he crossed the finish line only a foot ahead of Morgan, he claimed a victory kiss. Games that ended in kissing Morgan were a good thing.

  Hanging out with Morgan, Nick and Dominique was a good thing, too. If Morgan hadn’t been there, Gabe might have felt like a fifth wheel tagging along after Nick and Dominique. A foursome was better, and they made up their own team for events like the spoon-and-egg relay.

  Gabe couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a pressure-free day. Sure, he played the games to win, but when he didn’t win, he could still dream up an excuse to kiss Morgan. Kissing Morgan beat winning all to hell.

  Late in the afternoon the four of them helped Josie, owner of Spirits and Spurs, carry her tables outside. Traditionally Shoshone’s Fourth of July ended with a street dance, and Josie was no fool. She’d figured out that serving food and drinks in the open air made a lot more sense than trying to coax people into the saloon.

  She rewarded the four of them with bottles of beer and a prime table next to the section of street where the dancing would take place. Once they were settled, Morgan and Dominique left to repair their hair and makeup in the saloon’s bathroom.

  That presented Gabe with his first chance to talk with Nick alone. He might not have another one, so he latched onto it. Taking a pull on his beer, he glanced over at Nick. “Jack’s getting out of hand.”

  “He’s been out of hand for a while now. Demanding that you stop competing is only the latest stunt in a long line of weirdness.”

  “I’m gonna find a way to compete so Top Drawer can make the Hall of Fame.”

  Nick picked at the label on his beer bottle. “I know you are. And you should.” He glanced up. “Of the three of us, you have the most right to be out there representing the family, and Top Drawer deserves his shot.”

  “Let’s not start that half-brother shit again. As far as I’m concerned, we’re all just brothers.” Gabe had never felt any differently, but convincing Jack and Nick was an uphill battle.

  Jack’s mother had left the ranch and her marriage when Jack was a toddler. Despite Sarah’s continued requests, Jack had never called her Mom, as if he felt obligated to make the distinction that he was her stepson.

  Nick and Gabe had both thought they were Sarah’s kids, but just recently Nick had found a document proving that Sarah wasn’t his biological mother, either. Instead he was the result of an affair his father had had prior to meeting Sarah. Nick’s mother had died, and Nick had come to the ranch as a baby. His father and Sarah had never told him the truth, and the community had helped keep their secret.

  That left Gabe as the only son born to Jonathan and Sarah. Three sons, three different mothers. It made no difference to Gabe. In fact, he was determined to hang on to a sense of unity, even though Jack was currently behaving like an ass. But Nick and Jack weren’t so dedicated to the concept. Jack was the most stubborn about it, but Nick had his moments. Like now.

  “Dad had a special feeling for you,” Nick said.

  “That’s why he encouraged you to get into the cutting-horse competition in the first place.”

  “He had a special feeling for all of us. You know damned well he didn’t play favorites. He was busting his buttons over you becoming a large-animal vet.”

  “Nah, that wasn’t the same. My degree isn’t exciting. You winning ribbons and trophies and then getting prize money on top of it—that’s exciting. He got a vicarious thrill out of you being out there.”

  Gabe considered that as he took another swig of his beer. “Is there any chance Jack is jealous of how Dad felt about me competing and that’s why he wants to shut me down?”

  Nick shook his head. “Don’t think so. Jack’s never seemed jealous of either of us. I think he’s always cherished his position as first-born. But, dear God, is he turning into an anal son of a bitch! All he thinks about is the bottom line, preserving the ranch exactly as Dad left it. He’s taking his responsibility way too seriously.”

  Gabe sighed. “Yeah, well, guilt is a powerful thing.”

  “And so stupid! That rollover was all Dad’s fault. He should have waited for better weather or until Jack was available to go fetch that horse.”

  “What horse?” Morgan asked as the women returned to the table and took their seats.

  “Nothing,” Gabe said. “You know cowboys. Always talking about some horse or other.”

  Morgan didn’t pursue it. Gabe liked that about her. She was interested in things without being nosy. He hadn’t had time to tell Nick about Jack’s treatment of Morgan, but maybe that should stay between him and Jack, anyway.

  Gabe didn’t know for sure where this new friendship with Morgan was headed, but every time he looked at her, he thought of mixing it up on some rumpled bedsheets. More important, he didn’t see white lace and promises, so whether Jack ever warmed to Morgan might not matter.

  What a great day they’d had, though. Night was settling in, soft and mild, and the mosquitoes hadn’t been bad at all. Gabe looked forward to dancing with Morgan and having a reason to hold her close. In the meantime, they’d drink beer and eat some of Josie’s food, probably hamburgers. It was that kind of night.

  “You know what?” Morgan’s eyes shone with excitement. “Dominique just told me about the ghosts that supposedly hang out in the bar. I want to help carry the furniture back in when Josie locks up so I can see if any come around tonight. Fourth of July seems like a prime time to me.”

  Gabe chuckled. “There’re no ghosts. Josie came up with a marketing angle and she’s playing it for all it’s worth, even renaming the place Spirits and Spurs. I gotta hand it to her.”

  “Aw.” Morgan looked disappointed. “I was all set to see some—what was the name you used, Dominique?”

  “Nick said they were called Ghost Drinkers in the Bar.”

  “Yeah.” Morgan grinned. “Like Ghost Riders in the Sky. I still want to help put everything away tonight. Josie might be making it up or she might not. How old is this place, anyway?”

  “Josie knows for sure,” Nick said. “But it’s seventy-five or eighty years old, at least. It was already here when Grandpa Archie and Grandma Nelsie moved to Shoshone, although it was called the Rusty Spur then.”

  “Our great-uncle Seth, Grandma Nelsie’s brother, married the woman who owned it,” Gabe added, “but later on they moved down to Arizo
na. Their kids and grandkids are still down there but they come up to the Last Chance once in a while.”

  “And the Chance family all stayed here,” Morgan said. “It must be cool to live in the same place where your grandparents settled.”

  “Well, it is,” Gabe said, “unless you get so stuck in the past and tradition that you can’t move forward.” He was thinking of Jack and wondered if Morgan would figure that out. She was a smart lady.

  “You’re right,” Nick said. “I’ll bet Grandpa Archie wasn’t a fan of rigid thinking when it came to the ranch. I’m pretty sure Dad told me that switching from cattle to horses was Archie’s idea, but he didn’t live to see it happen.”

  Morgan gazed at both of them. “Was your Grandpa Archie a drinking man?”

  Gabe nodded. “Not to excess, and I was pretty young when he died, but from what I’ve heard, he enjoyed a shot of whiskey now and then.”

  “Yes, definitely,” Nick said. “I remember Dad saying Archie took it neat.”

  “Would he have ordered whiskey in this bar?” Morgan pointed to the doorway.

  “I think so,” Gabe said. “Jack used to talk about Archie going to the Rusty Spur while Nelsie was shopping. Archie wasn’t big on shopping, so he had to fortify himself.”

  Nick raised his beer bottle in agreement. “I remember Jack saying that, too. For sure Grandpa would have come here for a drink back when his brother-in-law was part owner.” He looked at Morgan. “Why are you asking?”

  Morgan looked pleased with herself. “Because if he did, and Josie’s not making up the ghost part, then you two could go in there tonight and ask his opinion about the future of the ranch.”

  Gabe didn’t believe in ghosts, and no way did he want to spend the night in a deserted bar with his brother. But if Morgan was game, he was more than ready to play along. Hanging out with her in a darkened tavern wasn’t a bad idea at all. “There aren’t any ghosts,” he said, “but if you want to see for yourself, I’m in. I’ll bet Josie would give us the key and let us lock up after ourselves.”

  “There’s only one problem with the plan, bro.” Nick glanced over at Dominique. “We’re planning to take off about ten, and there’s no way Josie will close up that early.”