Ambushed!

“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.”