Ambushed!

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “That’s okay, Gabe. Truly. All either of us wanted was a romp, and that’s exactly what we’ve had. No regrets.” Or none that she’d admit to while he was around.

  “We need to get back to the ranch or they’ll wonder what’s happened to us.” She nudged Top Drawer into a walk.

  “Mom will still want you to stay for dinner.” He brought Finicky alongside her.

  “Thanks, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. For one thing, I’m a mess.” For another, she wouldn’t be able to eat a thing, knowing that he would soon confront Jack. If he succeeded in getting what he wanted, he’d be gone for the rest of the summer.

  Although she might kid herself that they’d reconnect in the fall, she doubted it. Once he’d labeled her a distraction from his chosen path, he wouldn’t want to risk hooking up with her again.

  “Damn it, Morgan. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Oh, you didn’t!” She plastered on a smile to prove it. “I’m a lot tougher than that. I’d rather not stay for dinner, all things considered, but I’ll take the brownies, if that’s okay.”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot all about the brownies and coffee.”

  “I wonder why.” She turned and winked at him, to further make the point that she was still the same wild and crazy girl who could tease him about the sex they’d shared. It would take more than this to break her heart, yessiree.

  GABE HATED the way he’d had to leave things with Morgan. She’d taken the brownies, but she hadn’t wanted a tour of the barn. He could hardly blame her under the circumstances.

  As he’d helped her off Top Drawer and held her for that brief moment before her feet touched the ground, he’d wondered what the hell he was doing sending her off like this. She was his fantasy come true. He’d never had it so good.

  And that was the problem. He could easily see himself filling the rest of the summer with hot sex. How could a guy complain when he had a willing Morgan in his arms?

  So he’d loaf all summer, doing odd jobs around the ranch and spending his spare time with Morgan. Gradually he’d lose his will to compete. Cozy winter nights with her could convince him not to train quite so hard. By next summer, if Jack continued to complain about the expensive entry fees, Gabe would probably give up competing altogether. After all, he’d have Morgan to comfort him.

  While part of him longed for that, mostly the part below his belt, his brain and heart would always wonder if he’d sold out, if he’d let his big brother determine his future instead of taking the reins himself. He wouldn’t have to wonder that now, though. As he unsaddled the horses and brushed them down before putting them back in their stalls, Jack walked out of the barn. Showtime.

  Jack propped his hip against the hitching post and took off his black Stetson. He pretended to examine his hatband. “How did Morgan like her tour of the ranch?”

  “Okay. But I have something else I need to discuss with you.” Gabe finished up and tossed the brush into the plastic caddy they used for the grooming tools. He turned to Jack. “I’m going to assume that Doozie will be fine by the end of the month. I plan to enter Top Drawer in every cutting event I can find in August, to make up for the layoff.”

  Jack put on his hat and adjusted the brim. “It’s a waste of money, Gabe. I did a little research, and we’ve only had one sale this summer as a direct result of your contacts on the circuit.”

  “You can’t judge it like that.” Gabe held on to his temper, determined to take the high road. “If Top Drawer makes the Hall of Fame, that’ll be huge for the Last Chance horses. I might still have time to do it this year.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. I don’t think it’s a good use of ranch resources.”

  Tightness traveled from Gabe’s jaw through his temples and down the back of his neck. He flexed his fingers. “Are you saying you won’t approve the expenditure?”

  “That’s what I’m saying. It’s not in the budget.”

  Although Gabe desperately wanted to tell Jack where he could shove his precious budget, he kept his voice level. He wanted to stay cool as he delivered the next part. “Then we may have to get the lawyer involved.”

  Jack met his gaze. A dark and dangerous light flashed in his eyes. “The lawyer?” he asked quietly.

  “Yeah, Jack, the lawyer. The guy who drew up Dad’s will and then read it to us while we all sat in Dad’s office the day after the funeral.”

  Jack pushed away from the hitching post. “Are you challenging my right to run the ranch the way I see fit? Because the will clearly states that Dad gave me that job.”

  “He also gave each of us an equal share of the ranch—you, me, Nick and Mom. I plan to use my one-fourth share to finance Top Drawer’s entry fees.”

  “Impossible. The assets aren’t liquid. We’d have to sell…” Jack’s eyes narrowed. “This is that real estate agent’s idea, isn’t it?”

  “Morgan? This has nothing to do with her.”

  “The hell it doesn’t! You spend the afternoon traipsing around the ranch with her, and now you tell me that we have to sell off some of the acreage to finance entry fees. Any idiot would be able to put that together.”

  “You’re wrong. In fact, she’s bowing out of my life so that I can focus on making this Hall of Fame thing happen.”

  “Bullshit! She wants a piece of the action!”

  Gabe wanted to hit him. He could imagine how satisfying that would be, to knock that know-it-all expression off his face. “You are so full of it, Jack. I’m not even planning to see Morgan anytime soon.”

  “Tell that to someone who believes it. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger. All she has to do is wiggle her—”

  “Careful, Jack.” Gabe’s hands curled into fists. “Your mouth is about to get you into some serious trouble.”

  Jack went into a crouch and motioned with both hands. “Bring it on, baby brother. Bring it on.”

  Gabe mimicked Jack’s stance. The guy had taught him how to fight. Gabe was about to show his teacher how much he’d learned. “With pleasure.”

  “Hello, boys.” Emmett Sterling rode up and dismounted, not looking at them as he looped the reins around the hitching-post rail. “I figured you two might be inside getting ready for the big farewell dinner for Dominique.”

  Gabe glanced at Jack, who straightened and shrugged.

  “Gabe, if you’ll unsaddle my horse, I’d appreciate it,” Emmett said. “Jack, come on in the barn for a minute. I think we have some dry rot going on and I want your opinion as to whether we need to tackle it first thing in the morning. Then we all need to get up to the house before Mary Lou pitches a fit.”

  “Sure thing, Emmett.” Jack walked past Gabe, his thumbs shoved casually through his belt loops as if he didn’t have a thing on his mind except checking out dry rot.

  “Later,” Gabe said in a low voice.

  “Anytime, son,” Jack murmured. “Anytime.”

  12

  “WHERE’S MORGAN?” Gabe’s mother pounced on him the minute he appeared in the small family dining room adjacent to the one they used when they were feeding the hands or entertaining a big crowd.

  “She asked me to tell you how sorry she was to miss this.” Gabe made it up as he went along. “She’s not feeling well, and she decided to leave in case whatever she has is contagious.”

  Jack held the chair for Sarah. “I’d be willing to bet it’s contagious,” he said. “If I were you, Gabe, I’d monitor myself. You could be coming down with it, too.”

  Sarah glanced at Gabe in surprise. “It must have come on quick. She looked fine this afternoon.”

  “That was before she took a gander at the ranch,” Jack said as he sat down. “Gabe, maybe you should tell Sarah what you told me, about contacting the lawyer.”

  “It’s not a good time to discuss that.” Gabe glared at his brother. They had a score to settle, but they weren’t going to do it at the dinner table.

  Gabe’s mother sighed. “Jack, I really think, especially now, that y
ou could call me Mom instead of Sarah.”

  “Yeah, Jack.” Nick helped Dominique into her chair.

  “It’s time.”

  “I’ll add my vote.” Pam Mulholland was seated next to Emmett.

  Gabe hadn’t thought about it before, but he suspected his mother of matchmaking between Pam and Emmett, too. Come to think of it, they were about the same age. Pam looked as if she’d put extra effort into her appearance tonight. She’d done something different with her blond hair, sticking some fancy jewel things in it, and her light blue blouse showed off a bit of cleavage.

  Emmett had taken time to wash up and get in a quick shave. His ears turned pink every time he glanced over at Pam, and Pam looked at him as if he were the last piece of fudge on the plate. Gabe wondered how long this attraction had been going on.

  Emmett cleared his throat and looked across the table at Jack. “It would be a courtesy if you would do that for Sarah, son.”

  If Gabe hadn’t been so angry with Jack, he might have felt sorry for the guy. Jack wasn’t used to being chastised in front of the entire family. Well, it was his own fault.

  “Oh, never mind.” Gabe’s mother unfolded her napkin and put it in her lap. “I guess it’s not that important.”

  Nick glanced between the two of them. “I think it is. And I’m in a better position to understand than I used to be, Jack.”

  “I don’t think so,” Jack said quietly. “You grew up thinking Sarah was your mother, and just because you found out that wasn’t exactly true, it doesn’t really change anything. I grew up knowing that my mother is still out there somewhere.”

  Gabe couldn’t stand seeing the pain in his mother’s eyes. “No, she isn’t. Your mother is right there. Sarah Chance is the only person who’s ever loved you as a son. Her son. It’s only right that you—”

  “Are you lecturing me about what’s right?” Jack pushed back his chair. “Aren’t you the guy who brought a real estate agent on the property today?” He stood.

  “Jack.” Sarah put a hand on his arm. “Have a little faith in Gabe’s judgment. If he says Morgan’s not out to exploit her friendship with him, we should believe him. I want you to drop this prejudiced behavior.”

  Jack turned to her. “Then explain to me why, within minutes of her slinking away—”

  “She did not slink away!” Gabe shoved back his chair.

  “That’s enough.” Emmett stood. “If you two boys are determined to get into it, then you will take it outside.”

  “But we’re having dinner!” Sarah stood, too. “I demand to know what’s going on.”

  Jack threw down his napkin and left his seat. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. Gabe wants to sell off his share of the ranch.”

  “Damn it, I didn’t say that!”

  Jack pointed a finger at him. “You sure as hell did.”

  “Hey!” Nick leaped from his chair. “Cut it out! I wouldn’t blame Dominique if she changed her mind about marrying into this family, if we can’t get through a simple dinner without yelling at each other!”

  Jack protested his innocence and Gabe jumped in, determined not to let his brother spread any more lies. As they tried to outshout each other, a piercing whistle brought silence to the table.

  Sarah took her fingers from her mouth.

  Gabe hadn’t heard that whistle in years. He’d forgotten his mother knew how to do it, but hearing it now brought back memories of the times she’d used that whistle to bring order when her boys got out of line.

  Narrowing her eyes, she aimed a laserlike glance at each of her sons. “Jack. Nick. Gabe. Sit down.”

  Gabe sat, and he noticed that Nick and Jack did the same.

  “All right. I don’t know what is going on, and I don’t want to know now. We can deal with whatever the problem is after dinner, like civilized people. We’re celebrating an engagement tonight, and I expect all three of you to sit here and behave yourselves. Is that clear?”

  Gabe nodded, as did Jack and Nick.

  “Good.” His mother picked up her wineglass. “Let’s begin by toasting the happy couple. Here’s to Nick and Dominique. May you have a long and happy life together.”

  Gabe lifted his glass along with everyone else at the table. But as he drank, he looked over the rim of his goblet to find Jack staring right back at him. The message in his brother’s dark eyes was easy to read.

  This isn’t over.

  MORGAN THOUGHT about making a meal of brownies and a bottle of red wine she had in the cupboard, but in the end she didn’t feel like being alone. Drinking wine and thinking about Gabe would probably produce nothing more valuable than tears, and she didn’t feel like crying herself to sleep tonight.

  One thing she was good at—most likely a world champion at—was saying goodbye. After all those moves as a kid—she’d stopped counting at thirty—she could leave a situation like nobody’s business and soon be on to the next thing. The hollow ache she felt was probably hunger as much as sadness.

  So she took a long, hot shower, styled her hair and walked over to Spirits and Spurs. Once there, she chose to sit at the bar instead of a table, because she was hoping to talk with Josie about ghosts. They didn’t have to mention the Chance men. No point in wasting breath on those boys. Morgan was interested in ghosts.

  A few people greeted her on her way over to a stool, and one couple invited her to join their table. She was gratified that someone offered, but not surprised. She was used to going into a town and making friends, and already she was on speaking terms with most of the merchants in town and quite a few of the residents.

  Adding Pam Mulholland from the Bunk and Grub as a contact would be nice, but she could manage that on her own without the help of Sarah Chance. She didn’t need Sarah, and she didn’t need her son, either. He’d been a pleasant diversion for a couple of days, nothing more.

  Picking an empty stool at the end of the bar near the cash register, Morgan climbed up on it and watched Josie work. Her long blond braid swung as she clinked ice into glasses, poured whatever combination had been ordered and then garnished the drink with a flourish. If the real estate business didn’t pan out, Morgan figured she should train as a bartender. She’d be good at bartending, which involved interacting with people as much as it did mixing drinks.

  “Hey, Morgan.” Josie placed a cocktail napkin in front of her. “What can I get for you?”

  “Something new and different.”

  “How about a jolly rancher martini?”

  “Uh, I don’t think so.” The thought of anything to do with ranching made her ill.

  Josie gazed at her with a knowing expression. “Then maybe a Pain Killer?”

  Morgan winced. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Not to everyone, I’m sure. I’m a bartender and I pick up on stuff. Plus I’m another woman who’s been run over by one of the Chance boys.”

  “That’s a good way to put it. Run over.”

  Josie sighed. “I’m sorry. You two looked happy yesterday.”

  “Yeah, well.” Morgan forced a smile and shrugged.

  “Easy come, easy go. And I swear I didn’t come in here to talk about it. I came in to talk to you about ghosts.”

  “Cool! We can totally do that. Let me mix you your drink. You’ll like it—dark rum, coconut rum, orange juice, pineapple juice.”

  Morgan nodded in approval. “Rum to help me forget and vitamin C to keep me healthy for when a new guy comes along. Sounds perfect.”

  “Something to eat along with that? You need to keep up your strength, you know.”

  “Spoken like a veteran of the Chance wars.”

  Josie rolled her eyes. “With the scars to prove it. How about a cheeseburger and fries? Comfort food works wonders at a time like this.”

  “Then I should probably have a chocolate shake to go with them.”

  Josie grinned and shook her head. “I’ve discovered the Pain Killer goes great with a cheeseburger and fries.” She patted the bar in front of Morgan. �
��Hang in there, girlfriend. I’ll be back in a flash with Dr. Josie’s prescription.”

  Girlfriend. It sounded nice. Morgan had made friends in town, but she hadn’t made what she’d call girlfriends, women she could hang out with, women with whom she shared secrets and beauty tips. That took time, and in a town this size, the cliques were pretty much formed in high school. Morgan hadn’t lived here long enough as a teenager to be accepted into a group.

  Josie’s show of female solidarity was most welcome. Morgan wondered if Josie had a group of girlfriends, and if not, whether she’d like to start one with Morgan.

  Within a couple of minutes, Josie set a sunny drink topped with a pineapple wedge on the cocktail napkin in front of Morgan. “Drink up. I put in your order for the burger and fries.”

  “Thanks, Josie.”

  “If you’ll excuse me for just a sec, I have to get a refill for the couple at the far end of the bar.”

  Morgan suddenly wondered if she looked pathetic and needy. “Hey, I’m fine. You have a job to do. You don’t have to babysit me.”

  “I thought you wanted to talk about ghosts?”

  “Oh! I do!”

  “Good.” Josie grinned and launched into a Schwarzenegger version of “I’ll be back” before hurrying to supply new drinks to the couple.

  Morgan sipped her Pain Killer, which tasted like something she should be drinking next to a pool or on the beach. That image was way better than whatever might surface while she downed a jolly rancher.

  Not that Gabe hadn’t been jolly. He’d been a regular laugh riot until the moment he’d decided she was an impediment to his riding career. Damn it, anyway. She hadn’t asked him to ride over and save her from Geronimo’s antics.

  In fact, she’d tried to talk him out of coming to her rescue. He’d been the one pursuing her until suddenly he stopped. To hell with him and the horse he rode in on. Literally.

  She’d been fine before Gabe had arrived on the scene and she’d be fine now that he was about to take himself off to win more championships and get his horse inducted into the frickin’ Hall of Fame. She didn’t want what he was selling, anyway. He might pretend not to want commitment, but he was a Chance, a man with a legacy to uphold.