by Stacey Kayne
“Be happy to.” His arm closed around her shoulders and Cora was overcome by a sense of relief.
She’d made it.
The moon was well up in the night sky by the time Chance put out the lamps in the barn and headed to the house. He’d opted to clean up in the bunkhouse while the others had their supper. After the long ride to the ranch and fighting an attraction he had no business feeling, he wasn’t up to sitting across the table from Cora Mae.
He tugged up the collar of his jacket as a cold wind swirled around him on his way to the back porch. Cursing the misfortune of his day, he tugged off his boots and left them on the step before slipping inside.
Tucker glanced up from the small kitchen table. One of their account books lay open beneath the lamplight. “Wondered when you’d show up.”
“What are you doing to my ledgers?” The last time Tuck had offered to help with the books it had taken Chance a week to get everything back in proper order.
“Just checking our numbers, making sure we’re on schedule for filling our contracts.”
His brother’s frown wasn’t reassuring. “How’s it look?”
“Tight. All the trouble with the Lazy J is costing us time. We’ll be lucky to bring in our band of wilds and have them broke in time for the first drive. The number of mavericks increases every time our fencing goes down, some of our best horses. We don’t have time to chase them to hell and back before the first drive to the stockyards.”
Chance gave a nod of agreement. “We’ll start rounding up the mustangs tomorrow and get a solid count. If need be, we’ll pay a visit to the Lazy J, see if they’re being neighborly again by rounding up our strays.”
Tucker’s lips tipped in a wry grin. “More likely they’ve driven them out to the badlands just for spite. Where’ve you been all evening?”
“Catching up on chores.”
Tucker’s smile widened. “And here I thought you were avoiding Cora Mae.”
Chance thought the reason they’d settled at the back end of nowhere was so they wouldn’t have to avoid anyone, but decided to leave that unsaid as he opened the breadbox on the counter. He found half a loaf of Skylar’s bread and took it to the table.
“She mentioned you weren’t too happy to see her,” Tucker added, closing the ledger as Chance sat across from him.
He shrugged and bit into the bread. “I brought her out here, didn’t I?”
“All in one piece. I am impressed.”
“I was polite.”
“Must be why she frowns at the mention of your name.”
He tore off another bite of bread, annoyed by the notion that he’d somehow behaved inappropriately. “Have you forgotten who we’re talking about? Winifred’s daughter shows up unannounced and I’m supposed to just welcome her with open arms?”
“There was a time when you’d have crossed two enemy lines to do just that.”
“That was a lifetime ago. A lifetime she’s spent under the influence of a witch. What’s more, I think she’s lying about Winifred.”
“You have a suspicious mind, Chance.”
He grunted. “I’m blessed that way.”
“Why would she lie?”
“Why do most women lie? To get something. What do you want to bet Winifred’s finally squandered all she stole from our family and is looking for a new source of pay dirt?”
Tucker shook his head. “Cora’s nothing like her mama, and you know it.”
“You could tell that in one evening?”
“I could tell that when I met her at age seven. She’s already proven to be helpful in the kitchen, and Skylar happens to think she’s a pure delight.”
“I’m glad it’s all worked out, then.”
Tucker stared at him for a moment before releasing a sigh and looking away, obviously not seeing the sincere joy he’d hoped to find on Chance’s face.
How the hell was he supposed to react to Cora Mae turning up in Slippery Gulch?
“How’d it go down at the miners’ camp?”
“Just dandy. I gave Wyatt his colt and told him I’d be sending a bill for it and any others that died because of his ignorance.”
“Why am I thinkin’ there’s more to that account than what you’re telling?”
Chance shrugged and ate the last of the bread. “Might have tossed in a punch before giving him Starlet. No less than he deserved.”
“I sure wish you’d told me before you lit off into that valley.”
Chance wished he had, too. Then Tuck could have endured Cora Mae’s bright smiles and excited jiggles. The memory of how quickly he’d squelched that excitement tugged at his conscience.
Noticing some breadcrumbs on the table, he brushed them into his hand.
“Wyatt could have had others with him.”
“I had the kid along.” Chance stood and emptied his palm into the sink basin. “We took care of it.”
“Did Wyatt admit to damming the river?”
“He didn’t have to.” Chance leaned back against the countertop. “We knew it was him.”
“What makes you so certain he wasn’t following orders?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He works for Widow Jameson.”
“Wyatt’s the one who controls her crew. What cause would Salina have to dam the river? She told me she didn’t have a problem with our use of wire fencing.”
“Yeah, but what a woman says and how a woman feels are two different things. Especially when you become personally involved with her.”
Chance groaned. “We’re not personally involved.”
His brother arched an eyebrow. “Not the way I heard it.”
“That was nearly two months back, and I didn’t do anything!” She had latched on to him in front of half their crew before he’d known what had hit him. For a tiny slip of a thing, she had the grip of a grizzly and the kiss of a skilled temptress.
“One kiss does not make us ‘personally involved.’”
“I can hardly ride out without finding her and her black buggy pulled up right beside you.”
“She won’t leave me alone,” he argued, frustrated and downright peeved by the amount of gossip she’d created. “I have more sense than to sow my wild oats in my own backyard.” Since they’d put down stakes, his oats hadn’t been getting sown at all! An inconvenience he hadn’t foreseen before settling in this valley. It was one thing to spend a few hours with a willing woman when he was just passing through—quite another to bed a woman close enough to start conjuring expectations.
“We were having trouble with the crew from the Lazy J long before Salina mauled me—that’s why we took to using the wire.”
“Nothing like the trouble we’ve been having in the past two months. Zeke took some heavy hits by whoever jumped him out on the north pasture last week. I wasn’t sure he was gonna make it. If he hadn’t—”
“There’d have been a hanging,” Chance finished for him. He would have been the first one on the Lazy J. If Skylar and Zeke’s wife hadn’t barred the stable holding shotguns, he and a few others would have ridden to the Lazy J and beat the identity of the coward who’d attacked Zeke out of their whole crew of worthless cowpokes.
Damn women. Always interfering!
“The old man can still barely walk,” Tucker continued. “Our boys are getting sick of fixing cut wire and having to look over their shoulder the whole time. You sure Wyatt isn’t her latest bed warmer?”
“How the hell should I know? So what if he is? I’ve never proclaimed an interest in Salina. I don’t know why she’s suddenly stuck on me!”
“Clearly you’re the victor,” Tuck said in a droll tone.
“Well I forfeit!”
“Good luck with that. In the meantime, her crew’s creating a powerful hostility among the men. We’re a stone’s throw away from an all-out range war.”
“Why do you think I rode down into that valley?”
“I just hope you targeted the right source.” Tuck pic
ked up the ledger and stood.
“Are you saying I should have ridden to the Lazy J and punched out Salina?”
Tuck chuckled and turned away. “I’m going to bed. We can talk more tomorrow. By the way, I put Cora Mae two doors down from you.”
Chance beat him to the doorway and blocked his path. “Why is she on my side of the house?”
“Why do you think? Skylar could go into labor any day now. Our only spare room is between Josh and the nursery. Garret has the only room down here. You better be nice to her,” Tuck said, wagging a finger at him. “It won’t kill you to show a little politeness.”
“I don’t trust her.”
Tucker’s laughter tightened the anger twisting inside him. “You don’t trust anyone. I’m not asking you to like her. Just be nice.” Tucker moved past him, heading for the stairs in the front room.
Chance glanced at the stairwell at the end of the kitchen leading to his section of the house. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she was in Wyoming. Grumbling to himself, he put out the lamp and climbed the stairs. His footsteps slowed as he reached the light spilling out from beneath her door.
He remembered a time when they’d snuck into each other’s rooms on a regular basis and would talk for hours or climb out of the window for a late-night venture to the river. They’d also been caught on occasion and, though Cora Mae hadn’t gotten off unscathed, it was him and Tuck who’d lost strips off their hide.
Rage tightened over Chance’s body as old hatred welled up inside him. He couldn’t separate the good memories from the bad, and preferred not to think about the past at all.
Be nice.
He walked into his room thinking he was well beyond the age when niceness got him anywhere. He was tired of tripping over marriage-minded women and sick to death of being celibate! Unless a woman was interested in getting naked and getting lost, she could get the hell out of his way.
Did he go around shouting such things? No! He was polite, damn it! And hadn’t it been his idea to knock on Cora Mae’s window and invite her along that first time. Tucker had griped for days about a girl tagging along with them. Who was Tucker to tell him to be nice?
He found the matches on his night table and lit the lamp, spilling light across his room and the wooden box beside the glass kerosene globe. Slumping onto his bed, he flipped the lid up and took a small leather pouch from the clutter of coins, cuff links and pocket watches. Dipping his fingers inside, he pulled out the thin silken fabric.
Faded by time, the only color left in the frayed thing were smudges of dirt and dried blood. Just a stupid ribbon…that had brought him the slightest comfort in times when he’d desperately needed to believe there was more than pain and violence in this world. He’d think of Cora Mae, her smiles, her sweetness, her resilience.
He wasn’t sure why he still kept it. It had been too many years since they’d been informed that Winifred had sold their birthright and taken her daughter to Delaware to live in luxury at Tindale Manor.
He glanced at the lamp’s flame, so tempted to lower the ribbon into the bright light and be done with it.
What the hell good will it do now?
She was here, her big dark eyes full of sadness and shadows, tying him up in knots, just as they always had.
And he was supposed to be nice?
Chapter Three
I f a woman wanted something done right, she had to do it herself!
Salina Jameson snapped the reins, picking up speed as the Morgan house came into view. Her buggy wasn’t moving nearly fast enough. She knew it was close to suppertime, and their household was likely busy. Didn’t matter.
She wasn’t about to risk her claim on the man she’d been trying to seduce into her bed for the past year. Elusive devil he may be, but Chance Morgan was hers. The sooner he realized marrying her would end his troubles with the Lazy J, the sooner everything would work out best for all of them.
She’d listened to Wyatt’s account of Chance’s retaliation as he’d moaned about his bruised ribs for over an hour, all before he’d casually mentioned the woman.
Pretty young woman, he’d called her. Miss Tindale, he’d called her.
Seething with rage, she snapped the reins again. How could Wyatt not see this woman’s arrival as a threat to their plans? Perhaps she was becoming too relaxed with him. She’d clearly have to set her affair with Wyatt aside for now. She had to keep her eyes on the real prize. Merging with the Morgan Ranch.
The highwaymen calling themselves a cattle association were robbing her blind. By joining with the Morgans she would more than meet the land requirements to avoid their penalties. She’d save her ranch from ruin and gain a man worth having in a marriage bed. The mere thought sent a surge of arousal through her body as she guided her buggy into the yard. She paid no notice to the men stopping to glance at her from various corrals. She only wanted one man in her bed, for now.
As she reined in near the house, Skylar’s younger brother rode toward her. Not too young, she thought, admiring the strong build of the young man as he reined in beside her. A sixteen-year-old was fine for passing some time, but not what was required in a husband. She needed a man who could intimidate those overlording cattlemen. There wasn’t a man who didn’t step aside when the Morgan brothers moved through the railhead stockyard.
She needed Chance Morgan.
“Afternoon, Mrs. Jameson,” Garret said, the spark in his eyes and kick of his smile assuring her she’d chosen the right gown. Black didn’t have to be basic.
“Mr. Daines,” she said, giving him a coy smile. “Is your sister home?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’d take you in, but Tuck’s waiting on me. Skylar will answer the door.” His horse sidestepped away. “Good day to you.”
Not so far. She set the brake, stepped down from her buggy and strolled toward the two-story ranch house.
Quite grand, she thought, crossing the wide porch to the double polished-oak doors. Surely Chance would want his own home, away from his brother’s family? Her home wasn’t nearly as large, but it was quaint and she was settled. She rapped her knuckles three times against the wood. Tugging off her gloves, she decided she was very anxious for a visit with her future sister-in-law, and her guest.
The door opened and her gaze locked on an impossibly large belly.
“Salina. What a surprise.”
The poor dear! “Hello, Skylar. Aren’t you…”
“Huge,” Skylar supplied, patting her round stomach.
She couldn’t argue. She’d never seen a woman so heavy with child.
“Twins,” Skylar said.
Salina had always counted her inability to produce a child as a blessing—and was now twice as thankful.
“What can I do for you, Salina?”
“I heard there was another woman in the area, and I thought I’d pay a social call.”
Her neighbor stared down at her in clear surprise.
Salina couldn’t deny that she’d never been one to pay social calls in the past, at least not to women. But that was before they’d brought in a rival.
“We’re in the midst of preparing supper.”
“Oh, thank you, but I can’t stay to eat.” She stepped between the small gap of the door frame and Skylar’s belly and slipped into the house. “I just wanted to say hello and give a proper greeting.” She glanced around the large yet frightfully simple home. The bare tables and clunky furniture reminded her of a bunkhouse. The woman of the house clearly had no sense of fashion or style.
Movement beyond the dining hall caught her attention. A rather plain woman with reddish hair walked toward them, wiping her hands on a white apron tied at her waist.
This is my competition? Wyatt hadn’t mentioned the splash of freckles on the woman’s face or her sturdy build. Pleasantly plump, thought Salina. The woman’s drab gray smock and black dress were similar to that of Salina’s housekeeper’s.
“You must be Miss Tindale.” She hoped.
“Yes.”
“Cora, this is our neighbor, Mrs. Salina Jameson, owner of the Lazy J ranch, just beyond the east end of our valley.”
Salina flashed her best smile. “Charmed.”
“Likewise,” Cora replied.
“Cora is such a lovely name.”
“Thank you. My condolences on your loss,” she said, glancing at her diamond wedding ring.
“It was a shame,” she said, releasing a mournful sigh. Catching his wife at the peak of passion with a ranch hand had been too much for her late husband’s elderly heart. Had she realized such a scene would divest her of him so efficiently, she wouldn’t have waited four years before seducing Wyatt in the parlor.
“Shall we sit?” Salina asked, making her way toward the furniture.
Cora glanced at Skylar’s perplexed expression as Salina Jameson made herself at home. The young widow flounced onto one of the chairs. Light chiffon ruffles fluttered around her, the black mass emphasizing her tiny waist. The dress could hardly be referred to as widow’s weeds, the stiff bodice barely covered the ivory mounds being pressed toward the woman’s dainty chin. A black bonnet secured a bundle of cascading brown curls.
Cora followed Skylar to the adjacent sofa and offered her arm for support as Skylar leaned back. She felt a twinge of caution as she seated herself across from the woman watching her with calculating brown eyes. Salina sat on the edge of her chair, her hands folded in her lap, her posture impeccably straight, as though she might spring up at any moment.
“So,” Salina said, her voice dripping with sweetness, “how do you know the Morgans?”
“My mother was married to their father for a short time during our childhood.”
“Oh, so you’re related?”
“No blood relation, of course. Two years after our parents wed, their father perished in the war. Chance and Tucker have stayed dear to my heart.”
“And now you’ve come to Wyoming to settle close to your brothers—how lovely. I think you’ll find your chances of finding a husband greatly improved. Men around these parts aren’t so choosy.”
Cora looked into Salina’s perfect smiling face and felt as though she were back in her mother’s house. Skylar leaned forward in a rush, clearly picking up on the barb, but Cora knew this game all too well. “How reassuring,” she said, patting Skylar’s arm as she returned Salina’s fake smile.
