by Finch, Carol
For three days Chance had stood at the bunkhouse window, itching to add his two cents’ worth while Alexa and Zack played catch. He was trying very hard not to intrude, to remain outside the circle of this family, to mind his own damn business. But the woman and her kid were getting to him. He wanted to ease Alexa’s burden for a few minutes out of each day.
So here he was, offering his skills as a carpenter so she could quit early to keep her promise to Zack.
“All right, Chester, let’s build a wall.”
And like the shoemaker’s elves, he and Chester attacked their tasks, while Alexa baked the cookies she had promised her son.
Chapter Two
Astonished, Alexa stared at the two newly erected walls in the barn loft.
Merciful heavens! Even nursing his burn leg Chance had made more progress in half an afternoon than she had all day.
And why had he even bothered? she wondered. None of the other temporary hired hands had lifted a finger to assist her while she cleaned and swept the old cedar barn. They had spent their spare time sprawled on chairs in front of the TV in the bunkhouse, tossing down the contents of longnecks.
Never once had Alexa asked for Chance’s assistance—wouldn’t even have considered asking. Never once had she given the slightest indication that she regarded him as anything except Howard’s hired hand.
And what did he expect in return for his magnanimous help?
Alexa frowned suspiciously. Was this some new kind of a come-on? The usual ones she received from cowboys—when Howard wasn’t looking—came in the form of comehither glances and effusive flattery. To date, she had ignored all the come-ons. But maybe the long-legged cowboy who hailed from Montana was trying a different approach, still expecting payment in some intimate form.
That would be the day frogs flew! Alexa had half a mind to march down to the bunkhouse and set Chance Butler straight. Since it was Friday night, she would direct him to the nearest honky-tonk bar in Willowvale. There were plenty of urban cowgirls eager and willing to show a ruggedly handsome man a good time. A subtle hint might assure Chance that he wasn’t to expect anything but homecooked meals and thank-yous from Alexa.
While Howard was showing Zack the scrapbook of Dan’s rodeo career—for the umpteenth time—Alexa aimed herself toward the bunkhouse. When she rapped on the door, no one answered. Resolutely, she tried again.
“Hold on a sec!” came that deep baritone voice that had such a pleasing effect on her ears—and certain feminine parts of her body
Tapping her foot impatiently, Alexa waited for Chance to appear. When he did she stepped back a pace, startled to see his wet hair tumbling down his forehead and water droplets glistening on the dark hair on his bare chest. Apparently, she had caught him fresh from the shower. She found herself staring at a magnificent chest that was nicked by scars—souvenirs of being hooked by horns during steer wrestling events, no doubt. Scarred or not, that was USDA Prime Choice chest—all rippling muscle, vibrant masculinity and bronzed flesh.
Exasperated by her betraying gaze, and the potent effect his brawny male body had on her, Alexa barged into the bunkhouse. When Chance tried to close the door, Alexa whirled to face him.
“Leave it open. I don’t want Zack or Howard getting the wrong impression,” she said in a rush.
He waggled his thick eyebrows suggestively. “Then I guess you don’t mind if I get the wrong impression.”
It was the wrong thing to say. The fact that Alexa found his playful smile utterly appealing and disarming only irritated her further. She had tried to be the Queen of Cool in Chance’s presence, but there was nothing cool about her response to the man, damn it.
“Put on a shirt, cowboy,” she demanded in a no-nonsense tone. “I came here to discuss your chest—I mean the barn project.”
When Chance burst out laughing, Alexa’s face turned so red that she was afraid it would explode in flames. “I’m trying to be serious here,” she snapped, angry, embarrassed. “This is not a social call, Butler.”
“Why would I think that?” Chance asked between snickers. “I’ve nearly suffered frostbite from you since I got here. I’ve been wondering what I could possibly have done to offend you. Do I talk too much? Not enough? What’s the problem here?”
“Are you going to put on a shirt or not?” Alexa muttered, staring everywhere except at his appealing chest.
“Sure, if you think I’m too distracting the way I am.”
Now how was she supposed to reply to that? This ornery cowboy had backed her into the proverbial corner. If she kept insisting on the shirt, then she might as well come right out and announce that she found him appealing and distracting. But if he didn’t cover his chest, she wasn’t sure she could keep her traitorous gaze from wandering all over him while she fumbled to put her thoughts into words.
All right, she did find him exceptionally attractive, she admitted begrudgingly. And she was going to feel considerably more at ease if he covered himself.
While Alexa stood there fighting down her blush and wrestling with betraying thoughts, Chance let her off the hook. Thank goodness!
“Give me a minute, Al, and I’ll get dressed. Does this conversation require boots or is barefoot acceptable?”
Her respect for him elevated a notch when he didn’t press his advantage or come on to her. “Barefoot is fine.”
“What about a belt? Shirt tucked in?” he teased as he limped toward the closet.
Alexa felt a reluctant smile working its way across her lips. The man was as exasperating as he was amusing and attractive. He had a knack of lightening up her serious moods, of teasing her without offending her. He seemed to be a good and decent man, despite his chosen profession.
Too bad she had a general dislike for men of his chosen profession.
Modestly, Chance kept his back to her while he thrust his arms into his shirt, fastened the buttons hastily, then pivoted around. “If you don’t prefer to sit down, I hope you don’t mind if I do, Al. The leg is beginning to throb something fierce.”
Alexa felt guilty about the extra work he’d done in the barn. He had placed unnecessary strain on his leg—on her behalf. The man had done her a tremendous favor, and the least she could do was thank him properly, though she wanted to make it clear that she didn’t repay favors in an intimate fashion.
“First off, thank you for working in the barn. You and Chester made amazing progress while I was baking cookies.”
“You’re welcome. Any woman who is willing to lug around a nail gun and build her own bed-and-breakfast deserves a helping hand. You’re the strongest, most self-reliant woman I’ve ever met. You impress me, Al. I wanted to show you that I approve of you and admire your work ethic.”
Never in all the years of her marriage had Dan bothered to acknowledge, or even notice, how hard she worked. Alexa was inordinately pleased that Chance admired her, respected her abilities. Hard as she tried to dislike this man, he kept chipping away her barriers of defense. Not to mention the vivid effect his physical appeal and sense of humor had on her, she tacked on silently.
“I’m aware that Howard doesn’t approve of my refurbishing project,” she said, anxious to put space between herself and her traitorous thoughts of attraction. “But the agricultural industry is still in a state of depression. I’m convinced the B-and-B will be profitable once I open for business.”
“With you at the helm I don’t doubt it,” Chance said with firm conviction. “You’ve got more energy than a high-strung Thoroughbred, and I’ve never seen you sit down long enough to gather dust.”
“I appreciate your vote of confidence, but that isn’t why I stopped by.”
Chance grinned. “I didn’t think so.”
He was curious as hell to know what had prompted Alexa’s first official visit to his living quarters. For the most part, she seemed to be annoyed with him for just standing there breathing. She had given him such a wide berth since he arrived that he also wondered if he was contagious—or
at the very least, had a serious case of bad breath.
Chance was surprised and delighted by Alexa’s reaction to seeing him freshly scrubbed from a shower. It did wonders for his male ego. With his noticeable limp, Chance had been feeling less of a man, more vulnerable. It wasn’t a feeling that he was comfortable with.
Yet despite these humbling feelings he was experiencing because of his injury, he wanted to get to know Alexa.
On one hand, he was hesitant to cross the line that Howard and Alexa had established for him. On the other hand, this woman’s remarkable strength of character, personality and arresting good looks were hopeless lures. Though she wore no makeup, didn’t fuss with that tangled mass of curly auburn hair and dressed down her feminine assets, she still appealed to everything male in him.
Chance wasn’t a complete fool, though. He knew he was asking for trouble if he appeared the least bit interested in developing a relationship with Alexa. But hell, what man wouldn’t want to try? He’d have to be dead a week not to react to a stunningly lovely woman like Alexa Tipton.
In hopes of reassuring this leery female that he wasn’t the slightest threat to her, Chance had quickly nicknamed her Al. He had tried to send a subtle message that he wasn’t coming on to her—though the man in him strongly objected to the tactic.
If nothing else, Chance wanted to leave Rocking T with Al’s respect and friendship, even if she was the one woman he found himself wishing—in his weaker moments—that he could share a good deal more than conversation with.
When Alexa squirmed awkwardly on the sofa, then stared at the air over his right shoulder, Chance frowned curiously. He reckoned he was about to learn the reason for this unexpected visit.
“Since you are new in the area, I thought I would direct you toward the local watering hole in Willowvale. Bud’s Tavern caters to the cowboys who like to kick up their heels and listen to country and western music. Bud hires live entertainment on weekends, and unattached females frequent the place.”
Chance’s frown deepened. Just what was going on here? Why was Alexa so anxious to send him off to the local honky-tonk?
His gaze drifted to the door that Alexa insisted he leave wide open. Could it be that Alexa had taken an unwanted liking to him?
Well, he’d taken a reluctant liking to her, too, and Chance was as hesitant as she was to complicate the situation. Hesitant but unable to ignore Alexa’s magnetic appeal. Hell, every time he made the mistake of staring at those lush lips—like now—he felt the stirring of hungry need.
Yet he kept thinking there had to be some flaw in this all-too-perfect female. Why had Dan Tipton tripped the light fantastic, every chance he got, with the rodeo groupies on the circuit? For sure, Alexa wasn’t the type of woman who came on aggressively to other men. Her insistence on an open door, to prevent wrong impressions, signified that she possessed strong Midwestern values.
Didn’t sex appeal to her? he wondered. Strong and independent as she was, maybe she didn’t like any man, even her husband, being in control of any given situation....
“Well? Are you interested in a night on the town?” Alexa prompted when he dillydallied too long in thought.
“Are you asking me out on a date?” Chance popped off before he could stop himself.
“No! Certainly not!” she denied adamantly.
Fascinated, he watched a blush work its way up her neck to splatter her creamy cheeks. “Fact is that I don’t drink,” he confided.
His comment caught her by surprise, he noted.
“You don’t? I thought all cowboys—”
“My dad is a reformed alcoholic,” he cut in. “I lived through hell with that man before he reformed. Believe it or not, you could even call him respectable now, though I have difficulty forgetting what he was like in his wilder days.”
For the life of him Chance didn’t know why he had imparted that confidential information. He was in the habit of keeping his background to himself, refusing to reveal hellish memories from childhood. But he found himself sharing that part of his unpleasant past with Alexa. Maybe he wanted her to know that he wasn’t just another cowboy who’d landed on her doorstep. Maybe he wanted her to realize he was different, and that he wanted to earn her respect.
“Now, if you were to accompany me to the honky-tonk for a cola and dancing I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” he blurted out of the blue.
“Are you asking me out on a date?” she croaked, frogeyed.
Fool that he was, Chance had opened his big mouth and put her on defense with that comment about a date. Geez, sometimes he ought to try engaging his brain before he unleashed his tongue.
“Guess I am,” Chance admitted, chuckling. “I like you, admire you. Can’t hang a man for that, can you?”
Now she was really starting to squirm. Chance knew he had made a mistake by being too open and straightforward with this overly cautious woman. He could see her retreating behind that wall of cool reserve she’d built around herself.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept,” she insisted. “I have my son to consider. He is my first priority.”
“What about your wants and needs, Al?” he couldn’t help but ask. “Aren’t you supposed to have a life, too?”
Something inside Alexa snapped—emotions half-buried, but still a little raw, grated on her. She knew Dan had been unfaithful to her—or rather she’d suspected it after she found traces of makeup and whiffs of strong perfume on the shirts she laundered after his trips. Dan had led a double life, and she presumed Chance was also accustomed to living in the fast lane. She had a definite aversion to men who slept their way from one rodeo to the next, keeping track of feminine conquests like a gunslinger notching his sixshooter.
Alexa would never allow herself to become any man’s casual conquest. She didn’t need a man in her life. The one she had married had never been there for her. And sex, as she had learned the hard way, wasn’t necessarily fulfilling. Dan’s idea of lovemaking consumed about as much time as his eight-second rides on saddle broncs....
Alexa fought down the blush that accompanied that thought, then focused her attention on Chance’s question about having a life of her own. “When you have the responsibility of raising a child, you make a commitment to your child and you put his wants and needs before your own. Children aren’t something you take or leave on selfish whims.”
“Try telling that to my parents,” Chance said, half under his breath.
Although Alexa was curious about his mumbled comment, she was determined to drive home her point. “It is my duty to get this floundering ranch back on its feet. I need to make this bed-and-breakfast prosper. As it is, I have enough trouble finding extra minutes in the day to ensure Zack doesn’t feel slighted. My dad never had time for me and my sister, and Zack’s dad didn’t make time for him. I’ll be damned if my son is going to suffer in any way!”
“Mom! Are we going to play catch tonight?”
In Alexa’s opinion, Zack’s timing couldn’t have been better. He had reinforced the point she was trying to make.
“I’m on my way, champ.” Her gaze drilled into Chance as she called back to her son. Alexa came to her feet, nodding curtly. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to catch the next Greg Maddux, the Cy Young Award-winning pitcher for the Atlanta Braves.”
Although Chance was impressed that Alexa appeared well informed on sports celebrities, he couldn’t keep his trap shut. “Zack throws like a girl, and you do, too. I’d be happy to give Zack some pointers so he won’t end up on the sidelines for the rest of his life.”
Her chin came up to a defiant angle. “We’ll muddle through the best we can, thank you very much. You won’t be here long enough to follow Zack’s sports career, after all.”
On that parting shot, Alexa strode through the door. Chance sank back in the chair, propped up his lame leg and stared at the blank TV screen.
Such a proud, stubborn, defensive woman, he mused. She wasn’t accustomed to accepting help, unless she paid for it
. She didn’t know how to handle offered assistance gracefully, because she wasn’t accustomed to being on the receiving end. From what Chance had seen, Alexa did most of the giving on this ranch and none of the taking.
Wasn’t accustomed to accepting help, unless she paid for it...
The thought rolled back to Chance, making him frown ponderously. His feelings of frustration evaporated when he gave the matter further consideration. Paybacks. Was that the hidden agenda in Alexa’s visit?
Knowing Alexa as he did—and he had become amazingly perceptive where she was concerned—he was beginning to realize that she didn’t want folks doing favors for her unless she could repay them properly. She had a very strong sense of fair play and she didn’t expect to get something for nothing.
Chance wondered if Alexa’s attempt to steer him to the local tavern and the available females looking for a good time, was her way of assuring him that he wasn’t to expect favors of an intimate nature from her, just because he’d framed up a wall in the barn.
A slow, wicked smile worked its way across his lips. He should place a few calls tonight to some friends who owed him favors. This weekend was open—in preparation for the high-dollar rodeo held at the fairgrounds in Tulsa. Alexa would be in a full-fledged tizzy if Chance gathered a workforce to frame her bed-and-breakfast. She’d be so flustered by his generosity, and that of his friends, that she wouldn’t know what to do with herself, what to say, how to react.
Well, too bad. She needed to learn how to accept a helping hand graciously, needed to know that she didn’t have to depend entirely on herself, one hundred percent of the time.
Out of pure orneriness, and the compelling need to help that strong-willed woman, Chance reached for the phone. He didn’t understand his driving need to prove to that wary, defensive woman that he had integrity, that he didn’t fit into the mold. But he did. It was high time to redeem the lowly status of rodeo cowboys.
