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“So this is your first parade?”
She smiled. “Yep. I’m a parade virgin.”
“Then we need to change your status today.” And if their discussion had sexual overtones, he didn’t mind a bit. She’d started it.
Still smiling, she shook her head. “I’ll bet your horse is worth a gazillion dollars.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Gabe thought Jack might say it mattered a lot, but Top Drawer was Gabe’s horse and he could loan out the roan paint if he wanted to. That meant Gabe would be riding an Appaloosa instead of one of the Last Chance paints, and Jack might not like that, either. The ranch used the parade to showcase their registered horses, so in the past their entry had been all paints, all the time. But Gabe wasn’t in the mood to please Jack right now.
“No, really, Gabe. If anything were to happen to him, or to someone in the parade while I’m riding him, I’d never forgive myself.”
“Nothing will happen.” Gabe gestured toward his horse. Top Drawer hadn’t moved since Gabe had dropped the reins to the ground. “He’s trained within an inch of his life. You won’t have a single problem, but if you’re worried, you can ride next to me.”
Eagerness gleamed in her eyes for a moment before she looked away. “I really appreciate the offer. You don’t know how much.” She glanced back at him. “But it wouldn’t be right.”
“Why not?”
“I’d be horning in on your parade entry, interrupting your family event, insinuating myself into a situation that isn’t my—”
“Aw, hell, Morgan. You know you want to do it, so just get on my horse and make it snappy or we’ll both be late.”
She hesitated another second and then grinned. “Okay, Gabe. You’re right. I really do want to be in this parade. I’ve been thinking about it ever since … well, since I was sixteen, I guess.”
Thank God he’d offered. “Then let’s do it.”
“I’ll be forever in your debt.”
“Yeah? That sounds promising.”
She laughed. “Don’t get all excited. Opening a business has sucked up most of my capital. But I might be able to swing dinner at Spirits and Spurs if you avoid the steak.” She walked over to Top Drawer and scrambled aboard. The fourth snap on her shirt popped open again.
Instantly Gabe thought of another way she could show her gratitude, and immediately felt like a jerk. He was doing a good deed and expected nothing in return. Absolutely nothing.
“Damnation.” She pulled the shirt together and snapped it.
Doing his level best not to stare, Gabe led the Appaloosa over so he could hold on to the wayward horse while he adjusted her stirrups. No doubt being turned on by a glimpse of her spectacular cleavage reflected poorly on his character.
But there you had it. He was superficial and immature enough to wish that snap would stay open.
“Oh, would you please get my little purse?” she asked. “I left it tied around the saddle horn, and I doubt you’ll want to ride in the parade with it hanging there in full view.”
“That would be a negative.” He fetched the small leather purse, no bigger than a wallet, and handed it up to her.
As she reached for it, the snap popped again. “This is getting annoying.”
“Maybe you should give up and leave it undone.” He figured every guy along the parade route would be grateful.
She looped the purse strap over the saddle horn and snapped her shirt together again. “Now you sound like my mother—if you’ve got it, flaunt it.”
“Your mom said that?” Gabe couldn’t imagine that sentence ever crossing his mother’s lips, especially in relation to one of her kids.
“She’s Italian,” Morgan said, as if that explained everything.
Gabe thought about that as he lengthened his stirrups and mounted up. Kids tended to take after their parents, and obviously Morgan had inherited her red hair and blue-green eyes from her Irish dad, a guy he’d met once at some school function her parents had attended. What had she inherited from her hot-blooded, dark-haired Italian mother? A passionate nature?
In high school he’d been unavailable, but it happened that he was fancy-free at the moment. Even though he expected nothing in return for this good deed, he wasn’t about to refuse if Morgan wanted to renew their friendship. This horse trade might turn out to be one of his better moves.
2
EVEN A dedicated optimist like Morgan couldn’t have predicted that renting that stubborn horse Geronimo would have an upside—a rather spectacular upside, in fact. Although she was a little nervous about busting in on the Chance family’s event, she’d been invited by one of the crown princes to do exactly that. She thought of the Chances as Shoshone’s royal family.
Gabe certainly carried himself like royalty, his posture relaxed and easy in the saddle as he rode beside her to the parade staging area. Morgan had never known one of the Chance boys to look nervous, and why should they? They all had a strong sense of self, a trait she was working hard to make part of her personality.
She’d admired Gabe from the day she’d arrived at JHHS twelve years ago. No, admired was too tame a word. She’d had a crush the size of the Teton Mountain Range. Of course, she’d had no shot back then. As president of the junior class and star running back, Gabe Chance could have had almost any girl in school. He’d been going steady with somebody named Jennifer.
Amazingly, he now appeared to be unattached. With his all-American good looks, sandy hair and laughing blue eyes, she would have expected him to be off the market. Instead he’d asked her to ride with him in the parade, and that didn’t seem like the act of a man with a girlfriend.
He’d also been very interested in her tight shirt. She gave him points for not openly staring, though. She’d suffered through her share of ogling and crude remarks over the years. As a young teen she’d wished for smaller breasts, but eventually she’d learned to accept, even be grateful for the body she had.
Her generous measurements provided a terrific litmus test to see whether a guy had any class. Although she couldn’t expect men to ignore her double-Ds, she appreciated any effort at subtlety. Gabe had made that effort.
Come to think of it, he’d done the same back in high school, too. The afternoon of the prom he’d helped her inflate more than a hundred balloons and had never once made a comparison between the balloons and her girls. She’d fallen a little bit more in love with him that day.
She didn’t mind showing off her assets under certain circumstances, but riding in a family-oriented parade wasn’t one of them. When the embroidered shirt she’d ordered had arrived a size too small, she’d considered not wearing it, but then she’d have no way to advertise her business. Advertising was her excuse for riding, although it wasn’t the reason.
She’d dreamed about this parade and the festivities that followed from the moment she’d been denied the experience as a teenager. During the brief time she’d lived in this town, she’d felt a connection, as if this was where she was ultimately supposed to wind up. She’d hated to leave and had vowed to come back.
It had taken her some time to honor that vow, what with working her way through college and figuring out what she wanted to be when she grew up. Once she’d qualified for her real estate license, she’d worked in Jackson until she’d felt confident enough to open her own office in Shoshone two months ago.
Spending the Fourth of July here marked the beginning of her new life, a life where she would put down roots at last. And she’d be helping others to put down roots by selling houses. She was all about the concept of home.
Meeting Gabe Chance today was a bonus she hadn’t counted on, though. But then, once a girl set out to build the life she wanted, anything could happen. She could find herself riding down the street with the man of her dreams.
At least he had been the man of her dreams twelve years ago. She probably needed to find out a little bit more about him before she cast him in that role now. And at some point, she wanted to express her condolences. She knew he’d lost his dad the previous year.
She settled for a neutral conversational gambit. “So what have you been up to since high school?”
He glanced over at her. “Got a degree in business, but mostly I’ve concentrated on my riding. Top Drawer is one of two cutting horses I use in competition.”
She had no trouble picturing him out there in the ring, doing himself proud. “I’ll bet you’re good at it.”
“Top Drawer is good at it. I just try not to interfere.”
So he hadn’t developed a big head in the years since she’d first met him. He’d been a fierce competitor back then, but not a braggart. She was happy that hadn’t changed.
“And I’m sure you’re also promoting the Last Chance paints when you ride,” she said.
“I think so, and my dad used to think so, but Jack may take some convincing.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever met Jack.”
“You may not have. He’d finished high school by then, and that was about the time my dad was getting out of the cattle business and switching over to selling paint horses. He needed Jack to help during the transition.”
She had her opening and she took it. “I was so sorry to hear about your dad.”
“Yeah, it was unexpected.”
“I’m sure.” Last fall she’d been working for a broker in Jackson when she’d heard Jonathan Chance had been killed in a rollover. By that time the funeral was over and she probably wouldn’t have gone, anyway. She hadn’t ever met Jonathan and wasn’t sure if Gabe or Nick would remember her.
Within a month of the accident, Morgan’s broker had gone down to Shoshone to leave his card in case Jonathan’s widow decided to sell the ranch. Morgan had been happy to hear that wasn’t going to happen, both for the family’s sake and for hers. When she moved to Shoshone, she wanted the community to be just as she remembered it, which included having the Chances still in residence.
Thinking about that now, she realized the parade would be the first one since Jonathan’s death. “Gabe, I’m a little slow on the uptake, but this isn’t the time for you to bring a stranger into a family event. You probably have enough to deal with.”
His glance was warm. “That’s considerate of you, Morgan, but in the first place, you’re not a stranger. You’re a friend from high school. In the second place, I think you’re exactly what we need to keep from getting bogged down in nostalgia.”
“Well, okay, but if anybody’s unhappy about it, we can still switch horses and the parade can go on without me.”
“That won’t be happening.” Gabe headed for the cluster of horses and riders near the Last Chance wagon. “Right this way, Miss O’Connelli. Let me introduce you.”
Morgan took a deep breath, but not too deep. That damned snap was going to stay fastened or else. She should have used a safety pin, but the shirt was satin and would show pin holes.
Riding along with Gabe was one thing. She knew him, at least a little bit. But facing the entire family was a daunting experience. Still, she was good at daunting experiences. Being tossed from pillar to post as a kid meant she’d had to learn how to adjust to whatever circumstances she found herself in.
Her first line of defense was her smile, so she trotted out a happy grin once they were close enough for Gabe’s family to notice.
Gabe started the introductions with a trim woman wearing a red Stetson, a Western shirt with red fringe, black jeans and red boots. Sleek white hair peeked out from under her hat but her eyes were covered by sunglasses.
“Mom,” Gabe said, “I’d like you to meet an old friend from high school. This is Morgan O’Connelli. Morgan, this is my mother, Sarah.”
Morgan kept her smile in place as she murmured a greeting.
Sarah returned the smile, but she seemed to be making an effort. “Nice to meet you, Morgan. You must be the new real estate agent in town.”
“That’s right.” Judging from the way Sarah said the words real estate agent, Morgan had the distinct impression that wasn’t a good thing. Maybe her broker hadn’t been the only one knocking on Sarah’s door after her husband’s death. “Have you had problems with agents bothering you?”
“You have no idea.”
Morgan cringed inwardly. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It hasn’t been fun.”
“Just so you know, I have no interest in your property.”
Sarah nodded without comment, and Morgan felt dismissed. Her usual charm wasn’t working at all with this woman, but she could understand why. This had to be a tough day for Sarah, and she couldn’t be happy having a rider in the group who was advertising a real estate agency on the back of her shirt.
“Hey, Morgan!” Nick, mounted on a butterscotch paint decked out in a silver-studded saddle, called over from his spot beside the wagon. “I wondered if that was you when the office opened.”
“It’s me!” Morgan was grateful for Nick’s friendliness.
He tilted his head toward a woman sitting in the wagon. “This is my good friend Dominique Jeffries from Indiana.”
Dominique’s short, dark hair peeked out from under a wide-brimmed straw hat and she had an expensive-looking camera on a strap around her neck. She waved at Morgan, her expression cheerful. “Hi! Looks like you two traded horses.”
Morgan started to explain but Gabe got there ahead of her.
“We had to,” he said. “Otherwise Morgan wouldn’t have been in the parade.” Then he introduced the other woman in the wagon—Mary Lou Simms, the ranch cook—and the driver—Emmett Sterling, the ranch foreman. Mary Lou was in charge of throwing candy to the kids along the route.
Both Mary Lou and Emmett gave her a pleasant but reserved greeting. Morgan told herself that was natural, under the circumstances. But so far, only Nick and the woman who was probably his girlfriend had been truly friendly.
Finally Gabe looked over at a dark-haired cowboy on the far side of the wagon. He wore all black, and was mounted on a striking black-and-white paint.
Morgan had no doubt this was Jack, who was now the head of the Chance clan.
Gabe confirmed what she already knew as he introduced them. “Jack, meet Morgan. I’ve invited her to ride in the parade with us today.”
Jack’s eyes narrowed, but then he touched the brim of his hat. “Glad to have you, ma’am.”
Morgan heard the words of welcome but didn’t believe them for a second. Once Gabe had announced that she’d be riding with them, a decided chill had settled over the group. She kept her smile firmly in place. Maybe there was still time for her to return Gabe’s horse and call the stables to fetch Geronimo.
“Time to move out!” Jack raised his hand like an old-fashioned trail boss.
So much for that. She’d have to see this through, hold her head high and keep her shirt snaps together.
“MORGAN AND I will follow Nick,” Gabe said as the group started lining up behind Jack. That wasn’t the order they’d planned on, but Gabe thought it was for the best.
When they’d talked about this the night before, his family had settled on having Jack lead, followed by their mother. Gabe was supposed to ride behind her, with the wagon next, and Nick at the end on Gold Rush as a sentimental tribute to their dad, who’d always been the entry’s grand finale. But Gabe didn’t want to be sandwiched in between his mother and the wagon in case Geronimo acted up or Morgan had any problems. He’d rather be at the end where there was a little room to maneuver before the next group came along.
Jack hesitated. “I don’t …” Then he paused and shrugged. “Whatever. We need to go. Ready, Sarah?”
“Yes.” She guided her roan paint, very similar to
Gabe’s in color if not in markings, onto the parade route.
Next Emmett slapped the reins against the rumps of the two matched bay paints pulling the wagon, and it started off with a creak and a groan.
Nick glanced over at Gabe. “You’re sure you want to be last in line?”
“Yep.”
“All righty, then.” Nick gave Gold Rush a nudge with his heels and the butterscotch paint, silver saddle winking in the sunlight, started after the wagon.
“Just stay on my right,” Gabe said to Morgan. “We’re going to be fine.”
“You changed the order, didn’t you?”
“A little.”
Morgan kept her voice down. “This was a mistake.”
