SOMEHOW they all survived the meal, although Gabe had trouble eating with the knot of anger tightening in his gut. It was bad enough that Jack had accused him of trying to sell off part of the ranch without hauling Morgan’s name into it. She was completely innocent, but Jack was determined to make her into some greedy opportunist.
Talk centered mostly on the house that Nick wanted to build and where the best site for it would be. Jack participated in the discussion with enthusiasm and never missed a chance to shoot a disdainful glance in Gabe’s direction. The implication was clear—while Gabe was trying to carve a chunk out of the ranch, his brother Nick planned to increase its value by building a home for himself and his new bride.
After dessert and coffee, which Gabe thought dragged on far too long, Nick announced that he was taking Dominique for a moonlit walk to discuss house plans. After they excused themselves, Pam expressed interest in seeing how Calamity Jane’s foal Calamity Sam was doing, so Emmett offered to take her down to the barn and show off the ranch’s newest resident. Before Emmett left, he leaned down and murmured something to Sarah.
She nodded before facing Gabe and Jack over a table scattered with the remains of their meal. “Emmett said I should holler if I needed any help with you two, but I trust that won’t be necessary.” She pushed back her chair and stood. “I want both of you to join me in Dad’s office.”
As she led the way down the hall, Gabe followed. Jack, obviously not wanting to bring up the rear, walked alongside him. Gabe sneaked a glance at him, but his brother was staring straight ahead, so he did the same. The walk to the office had an eerie Green Mile feel to it.
Gabe thought the choice of venue was a brilliant move on his mother’s part. The office was relatively small and had become a sanctuary ever since his dad’s death. Nobody would dare start a fist fight in there.
For one thing, it would be disrespectful. For another, there was too much chance of breaking something, like the green antique banker’s lamp his mother had found for his dad several years ago, or the framed picture of all five of them taken at Jonathan Chance’s sixtieth birthday bash at Spirits and Spurs.
Hard to believe that was only four years ago—before Jack became involved with Josie, before the fateful day of the rollover, before Nick found out Sarah wasn’t his biological mother and that their neighbor Pam was his aunt. Now they’d lost one member of the family and were about to add another—Dominique.
Gabe was sorry Dominique had been there to hear the argument between him and Jack, but she probably needed to be aware that everything wasn’t roses around the Last Chance these days. She should know what she was getting into. From what he’d seen of Dominique, she’d be able to handle a little strife without whining.
He didn’t want to think about Morgan right now, but she popped into his mind, anyway. That woman wasn’t a whiner, either. He’d figured that out back in high school when she’d accepted her parents’ lifestyle without complaint. But she was no pushover. Moving here and setting up a business had taken guts. He admired that.
His mother sat down in his dad’s oak swivel chair, positioned behind the desk, and motioned for Gabe and Jack to take the two chairs in front of it. She folded her hands on top of the old battle-scarred antique that had belonged to Archie Chance before it became Jonathan’s.
Then she studied each of them in turn. “When your dad was alive, he was fond of taking whoever was fighting out to an empty corral and letting them go at it. I’m tempted to do that now because I’m so frustrated with both of you.”
“Fine with me.” Jack started to get up.
“Not so fast, Jonathan.”
Gabe blinked. Nobody ever called Jack by that name, but it was his name, although he had a Junior attached. Their mother seldom did things for no reason, so Gabe decided she’d used that name on purpose to remind Jack whose boots he was standing in.
Jack sat down again.
Sarah cleared her throat. “I never thought beating each other to a bloody pulp proved anything except who’d been working out on the weight bench. Personally, Jack, I think you might want to reconsider challenging your little brother. He’s bulked up a lot since you last whipped his ass.”
Gabe started to laugh and thought better of it.
“The thing is, your dad is not here,” his mother continued. “And although I miss him every day, I’m glad he wasn’t here tonight. If he’d heard that kind of yelling from his boys at the dinner table, he would have taken you both on himself.”
“You’re right,” Jack said. “I apologize for that.”
Gabe nodded. “I apologize, too.”
“But I won’t take back what I said,” Jack added. “I wish you’d been there when Gabe came in from his ride with that real estate agent. I wish you’d heard firsthand what he said.”
Gabe was determined to stay calm, for his mother’s sake. He turned to his brother. “Jack, you’re twisting it so it sounds like something else. And you’d better leave Morgan out of this, or—”
“How can I? You came up with this demand immediately after spending time with her. She obviously suggested that—”
“She did not!”
His mother slapped a metal paperweight down on the desk. “Stop that, both of you. Gabe, tell me what you said to Jack that has him so riled up.”
“I told him I was going back to my cutting-horse competition next month to give Top Drawer a chance at the Hall of Fame. Jack refused to pay for it. I said that we’d have to get the lawyer involved, because I have a quarter interest in the ranch, and I want to use my share to pay for entry fees and expenses.”
“Which means selling off acreage!” Jack shouted.
Sarah’s eyebrows rose. “Does it, really, Jack? Are we living that close to the edge?”
“It’s not the immediate expense of Gabe’s entry fees, or his per diem for another month.” Jack blew out a breath. “But I’m not convinced he’s helping us sell horses, and that means his competition is an unnecessary drain.”
Sarah studied the two of them before focusing on Gabe. “Did Morgan encourage you to pull out your equity in some way? Does she want to be the listing agent for some of our land?”
“No! This is totally my idea. I don’t see how Jack can stop me from competing when I have one-quarter interest in the ranch. I’m just asking for my share so I can continue what I’ve done for ten years. Personally, I think it’s a great advertisement for Last Chance paints and will be even better if Top Drawer is inducted into the Hall of Fame. But if Jack won’t back me on that, I have to figure out an alternative.”
Jack pointed a finger at him. “Don’t pretend Morgan didn’t put you up to it. You’re just trying to protect her.”
Gabe’s mother sighed. “You know, Jack, it doesn’t matter whether Morgan is involved or not. Gabe has the right to liquidate his share of the ranch if that’s what he chooses to do. We can either sell off enough to give him the cash, or we can buy him out. That’s how your father set it up.”
Jack clenched his hands in his lap. “So what about it, Sarah? Can you come up with your share of the money to buy Gabe out?”
“I suppose, if I borrowed against the value of the ranch.”
Jack turned to him. “You hear that? You’re asking your mother to go into debt to finance your ego-driven needs. How does that feel?”
“I’m not asking anyone to go into debt.” Gabe stared Jack down. “But I’m not going to give up a skill I’ve honed for ten years and deny Top Drawer his shot because you’re too damned focused on the bottom line. That’s not the way Dad ran the—”
“Don’t you dare throw that in my face.” Jack started out of his chair again.
“Stop it, both of you!” Sarah stood. “Jack, I’ve let you handle the books ever since Jonathan died because that’s the way he seemed to want it. But I plan to spend tomorrow going over our finances to see if we can afford Gabe’s entry fees and expenses.”
Gabe rose to his feet. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I could end up siding with Jack on this. If I do, we’ll have to call a family meeting and get Nick’s input. But I will not have this kind of infighting among you boys.”
Jack also came to his feet. “It started with the real estate agent.”
“She has nothing to do with this!”
His mother folded her arms, a sure sign she was finished with the discussion. “Gabe, please ask Morgan to come over tomorrow. Her name’s been bandied about all evening, and I won’t know the truth until I talk directly with her. I hope she can make it.”
Gabe wasn’t sure if he could deliver on that request, but he’d give it his best shot. “I’ll ask her.”
“And now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’m going to brew a cup of peppermint tea and take it into my room with a good book. Good night.” She smiled at each of them as she left the office.
Gabe looked over at Jack. “I think we’re done for now.”
“Oh, we’re far from being done.” Jack’s jaw twitched.
“But I love that woman, and I’m not going to cause her undue stress by cleaning your clock.”
“If you love her so much, why in God’s name can’t you call her Mom?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“If I tell you, will you leave me the hell alone about it?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I will.”
Jack’s face tightened as if bracing himself for a blow.
“Okay, then. When I was a little tyke, I learned how to say mama and dada, like every kid does. Dada worked out okay for me, but mama, not so much. The person I associated with that word cared so little about me that she ran off. For you, the word is loaded with warm fuzzies. For me, it’s the label you put on somebody who doesn’t give a damn. Why would I call Sarah by that name?”
It was a long speech for Jack, and he appeared drained by it. Slapping his Stetson on his head, he turned and walked out of the office.
So that was it. Gabe wanted to call after him and beg him to confide all that to the woman he refused to call his mother. But Gabe had promised to leave Jack alone on the subject, and he would honor that promise. It would be tough, though.
Jack’s explanation also made it hard to be furious with the guy. Whether Jack realized it or not, he’d just admitted to having a gaping wound that had never healed. Gabe had never viewed Jack as vulnerable before. It put a whole new light on things.
BY NINE-THIRTY that night, Morgan felt sufficiently buoyed up that she could walk home and face sleeping in the bed she and Gabe had cavorted in not so long ago. She’d already changed the sheets that morning in anticipation of more cavorting tonight. She’d even added a vase of wildflowers to the bedroom and a few scented candles.
Grabbing her handy butane lighter, she lit the candles. A girl could have atmosphere even if the man of her dreams…cancel that…the louse who’d dumped her, wasn’t in residence.
A girl could have music, too. She flipped on the CD player, which she’d loaded earlier with mood music. The wail of a sax and the thump of a jazz piano filled her bedroom. That was more like it.
Undulating to the music, she danced over to her dresser, stripped off her clothes in time to the beat, and opened a drawer. There it was, a black silk negligée she’d bought in Jackson last year and had never worn. She’d been saving it for a special occasion.
This morning that special occasion had looked as if it would involve Gabe, but she’d guessed wrong on that score. So what? She’d wear it anyway. Taking it out of the drawer, she raised her arms and slid it over her head with a sigh of delight.
A twirl in front of the mirror attached to her closet door confirmed what she’d seen in the dressing room when she’d bought this number. The plunging neckline was made for a well-endowed chick, and the short skirt would tease a man to distraction. If Gabe could somehow know about the seductive possibilities he was missing, he’d eat his heart out. But he would never know.
The Pain Killers Josie had prescribed continued to sing in her blood, relaxing her to the point that she contemplated unpacking her vibrator and having a party all by herself. She was, after all, still on vacation until tomorrow morning.
The Fourth of July long weekend was the first one she’d taken off since she’d arrived in Shosone. She’d been working hard to jump-start her business. She’d combed the town for listings and had spent weekends at open houses. At night she’d updated her Web site and taken online courses on how to be a better saleswoman.
She’d focused so completely on her business that she still had a few unpacked boxes tucked in the hall closet, and her vibrator was in one of them. Time to dig out that little happy-making device now that Gabe Chance had flown the coop. She didn’t need him to have fun.
Naturally, the vibrator was in the bottom of the last box she went through. By the time she came up with it, she’d littered the hallway with old CDs, stuffed animals left over from her childhood, a Rubik’s cube, a Slinky, assorted flower vases, a few paperbacks and an old issue of Playgirl.
She flipped through the magazine and discovered none of the models made her quiver with lust the way Gabe did. Sure, they all had awesome equipment. A man couldn’t be in Playgirl without that. But none of them had Gabe’s cocky grin or brilliant blue eyes that could create sizzle in two seconds flat.
Oh, well. Tossing the magazine back into the box, she picked up the vibrator and switched it on to make sure the batteries still worked. She was thankful they did, because she doubted she had any spares.
Normally she’d put her junk back in the boxes instead of leaving it spread all over the hall floor. But that seemed a little anal considering she was holding a working vibrator and wearing a do-me-now negligée.
As she stood to walk back into her bedroom, her doorbell chimed. She paused as intuition kicked in. No one in town knew her well enough to show up at her door at ten o’clock at night.
But outside the town limits lived one person who might think he could get away with it. If so, he had another think coming. Vibrator in hand, she walked to the door and checked the peep hole just to be sure her hunch was correct. It was.
She threw open the door and stood there, her hip cocked as she tapped the vibrator against her bare thigh.
Speechless, Gabe stared at her. Taking a breath, he opened his mouth. Then he closed it again.
Two Pain Killers had awakened the smartass in her. “Hello, Gabriel. Looking for someone to blow your horn?”