“But at the Last Chance, there’s Sarah, Mary Lou, Emmett, the other cowhands, Pam, Nick and Dominique, even Jack the hard-ass. Around here, a kid’s feet will never touch the ground!”
“You’re right.” For the first time since leaving Morgan’s house, Gabe saw a glimmer of hope. “You think she’ll buy that?”
“One way to find out.” Jack stood. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“To Morgan’s house. You drive. I’ve had a few.”
MORGAN SAT UP in bed, pounded the pillow into shape and flopped down again. She had two appointments in the morning and another one in the afternoon. If she didn’t get to sleep soon, she’d have a tough time being perky.
That would be bad. She counted on perky. It was one of her selling tools. But this whole miserable situation with Gabe had sucked out all her perky.
Not her adrenaline, though. When the doorbell rang, she leaped out of bed as if she’d been shot from a cannon and stood in the middle of her dark bedroom gulping for air.
It had to be Gabe, but she simply couldn’t face him again. Opening that door would send her right back into his arms, and she wasn’t going there. She was tough, but not that tough.
Of course Gabe wasn’t the kind to give up, so the doorbell kept ringing…and ringing…
Finally she couldn’t take it anymore. She walked into the living room but didn’t turn on any lights. Consequently she stubbed her toe on the leg of the sofa as she made her way to a double-hung window at the front of the house. She swore under her breath as she hobbled to the window, which she’d left partway open with the security latch on.
Crouching down, she pulled aside the curtains and called out through the opening at the bottom of the window. “Go away!”
“Morgan, it’s Jack.”
Jack? She raced to unlock the door. “Is Gabe okay?” Then she saw both of them standing on her small porch. She’d have to be dead not to appreciate the sight they presented in their boots, bun-hugging jeans, fitted shirts and Stetsons cocked at a jaunty angle.
Still, she had her priorities. “You scared me half to death. Now go away.” She started to close the door.
“I think you have termites,” Jack said.
“What?”
“Termites.” He elbowed Gabe in the ribs.
Morgan sighed. “I get it. You’re making stuff up to keep me from closing the door. Goodnight, boys.”
“No, seriously! Feels spongy.” Jack jumped up and down and the boards squeaked. “Hear that?” He elbowed Gabe a second time.
“Look, I don’t know what you’re up to, but—”
“For God’s sake, Gabe!” Jack shoved him forward.
“Say it!”
Gabe swallowed. “Morgan, I love you.”
That cowboy sure knew how to deliver a sucker punch. She got chills followed by a warm, sweet feeling spreading through her like rivers of hot fudge. She still couldn’t marry him, but she’d never forget this moment.
She took a shaky breath. “That’s…that’s nice to hear.”
Jack clapped his brother on the shoulder. “But that’s not all, is it, Gabe?”
“No, it’s not.” Gabe focused those blue eyes directly on her. “I should have told you that first, before I brought up the whole marriage-and-babies subject, before I said you were my Doozie. I—”
“Hold it.” Jack hooked an arm around Gabe’s shoulders and drew him aside. “This enterprise is running off the rails. Doozie? What in hell does your lame horse have to do with anything?”
“We belong together, just like Doozie and Hornswaggled, except I didn’t think Morgan would want to be compared to a goat, plus she’s a woman, and Doozie’s a mare, so—”
“Good night, Irene.” Jack glanced over at Morgan.
“Could you excuse us for a sec?”
“Sure.” Morgan watched as the two brothers put their heads together, their voices hushed but intense. Meanwhile her resolve was melting faster than an ice cube in a microwave. How was she supposed to resist a campaign like this, where Gabe’s earnest but slightly goofy appeal was being coached by his older brother? She’d never seen anything so endearing in her life.
But if she caved, could she be the wife Gabe needed? That was the sticking point. Yet how she loved the man. She loved him even more for stumbling through this when he probably expected total rejection. He’d made himself so vulnerable.
He and Jack must have settled on a strategy, because they came out of their huddle and walked toward her again. Gabe took off his hat and mopped his forehead with his sleeve. If she’d ever doubted that he was fully engaged in this struggle, she doubted it no longer.
He put on his hat and stood before her, his legs spread a little as if he were bracing for what might come. “About the kid thing.”
“It’s still an issue, Gabe.” She owed him the truth.
“I know, but—”
“Uncle Jack, standing by.” Jack balanced on his toes and waved at her.
Gabe turned to him. “I’m handling it, Jack.”
“Just making sure you stay on track, bro.”
“I know what to say, so butt out.” Gabe faced her again. “I’m not putting pressure on you, Morgan.”
She nodded. “Good.” Because the least little pressure would send her into his arms.
“But I want you to consider something. When you were responsible for all those kids, you had no other relatives to lighten the load.”
“No. We were always on the move.”
“Exactly. But as Jack pointed out to me, our kid would have tons of people—my mom, Mary Lou, Nick and Dominique, Emmett, Pam and Jack, believe it or not. Even the cowhands would want to take a turn. You’d have babysitters coming out your ears.”
“The kid’s feet will never touch the ground!” Jack chortled.
“Our kid.” Morgan said it softly, almost afraid to imagine it, but…suddenly the idea wasn’t some abstract concept that she could easily reject. He was discussing a baby who would have his hair and eyes, or her hair and eyes, or his hair and her eyes. Their kid.
“You probably need some time to think about it.” His gaze was tender, filled with the love he’d so recently declared.
“Don’t give her time to think, idiot!” Jack waved both arms in the air. “Can’t you see she’s waffling? Close the deal!”
Morgan stepped forward. “I’ll close the deal. I love you, Gabriel Archibald Chance. Let’s get married and have a baby who will torture Uncle Jack.”
Gabe’s smile lit up the darkness. “Yeah, let’s.” He pulled her into his arms. “I vote we celebrate that decision.”
“Hey!” Jack called out. “Don’t forget about me! I need to go home, y’know. And I shouldn’t be driving.”
“Then go knock on Josie’s door,” Gabe said.
Morgan had no idea how Jack responded to that suggestion, because Gabe had maneuvered her into the house by then and had started on the buttons of her teddy-bear flannels.
“Did I tell you how much I love teddy bears?” he murmured in her ear.
“No.” She tugged him into her bedroom.
“Not nearly as much as I love you.” And with that, they tumbled onto the mattress.
After a lifetime of wandering, Morgan finally knew where she belonged—here in Gabe’s arms. Someday, when the time was right, their lovemaking would create a Last Chance baby. And the kid’s feet would never touch the ground.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6000-3
AMBUSHED!
Copyright © 2010 by Vicki Lewis Thompson.
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Ambushed! Page 17
