Tyler agreed that character was more important than outward appearance, but she couldn’t see anything wrong with being a worthwhile person who happened to be well dressed and well groomed. In the first place her job demanded it, and in the second place, looking good didn’t mean she was shallow and materialistic.
Once she’d left home—or rather, the wildly painted van that had been a home on wheels for her entire childhood—she’d vowed to find a profession that allowed her to buy pretty clothes and patronize a good salon. And travel well. She adored seeing new places and having new experiences, but she never wanted to camp out again as long as she lived.
The cruise business was a perfect fit for her, with the tiny exception of having no room for a man in her packed schedule. Alex had quickly uncovered the one disadvantage to her chosen lifestyle. That might be another reason the night with him in the hayloft sparkled so brilliantly in her memory. She hadn’t had many such experiences since taking a job with the cruise company.
She’d have to figure out how to fill that lack, but now wasn’t the time to worry about it. She was one world cruise away from nailing the job she’d coveted from the beginning—cruise director. Sure, it would be more responsibility, but she had tons of ideas and the job would give her the authority to act on them.
Tossing her dress on the bed and taking off her sandals, she put on the snug jeans and formfitting yellow T-shirt with the scoop neck. She hadn’t brought anything baggy to wear because baggy wasn’t her style. As a kid she’d been forced to wear clothes that didn’t quite fit, so now she chose outfits that showed off her figure.
Alex might think she did that to attract a man, but that wasn’t really her goal. She bought the outfits to please herself. She’d spent too much time as a child hating the shabby girl she saw every day in the mirror.
Once she’d put on socks and running shoes, she took a deep breath. Then she opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the hall. Alex leaned against the opposite wall, arms crossed as he waited for her, long legs stretched out, a tooled belt that drew attention to his narrow hips, and a chambray shirt that emphasized his broad chest and wide shoulders. Her heart rate kicked up. She couldn’t help that automatic reaction, but she didn’t have to give in to its power.
Male appreciation flickered in his gaze before he pushed himself away from the wall. His expression became a careful mask. “Ready?”
“Show me what you’ve got.”
He laughed. “You might want to rephrase that.”
“Is everything between us going to turn into a sexual joke? Because that won’t work.”
He started toward the stairs. “I’ll try to do better if you’ll try to avoid saying things like show me what you’ve got. You have to admit that line begged to be turned into something suggestive.”
“I was referring to your … oh, never mind.” She descended the winding staircase beside him, her palm sliding down a banister smoothed by countless other hands, and possibly a few fannies, too. The house and its history fascinated her. That kind of permanence and connection between generations was foreign, almost exotic, and she’d learned to appreciate exotic experiences during her travels.
She glanced down into the living room with its leather furniture grouped around the massive fireplace, and remembered that Alex was missing two of his three canopies for the open house. “Were you planning to make use of this space tomorrow?”
“I hadn’t thought I would. This area seems more private. I’ve called the event an open house, but I wasn’t really figuring on opening the actual house, just the grounds and the barn.”
“If it rains, you might not have that luxury. How would Sarah feel about extending the event into the living room and possibly the dining room?”
“I don’t know, but let’s see if there are alternatives before we ask her. She might agree, but I doubt if the Chance brothers would like it. They’re protective about this house.”
Tyler paused at the foot of the stairs to glance around. “I can understand that. I—”
She was interrupted as the front door opened. A blast of cool air was followed by a broad-shouldered cowboy sporting a sandy-colored mustache. Until he took off his hat, Tyler didn’t recognize that he was her brother-in-law, Gabe. She hadn’t seen him since the wedding last August, and apparently he’d decided to grow a mustache over the winter months.
“Tyler!” He pulled her into a quick hug scented with horse and dust. “Thanks for coming. Morgan sounded so excited when I talked to her. I know it means the world to her that you made the effort.”
“I’m glad it worked out.” She stepped back and smiled at him. “I can tell you’re treating her right. She’s really happy.”
“I hope so.” Gabe turned and hooked his hat on a rack standing beside the front door. “We didn’t plan for her to get pregnant this quick, but …” He shrugged.
“She doesn’t seem to mind a bit.”
Gabe scrubbed a hand through his hair, which bore the imprint of his hat. “No, she really doesn’t, and I can’t tell you how relieved I am about that. When we first got together she wasn’t sure she ever wanted kids.” He glanced over at Alex. “Looks like the two of you were headed outside.”
“That was the plan,” Alex said.
“Then you’d better get going. The clouds are moving in.”
“We’ll go fast,” Tyler said. “I just want a quick overview.”
Gabe looked puzzled. “Of what?”
“She’s going to save my ass,” Alex said. “Some of my plans for tomorrow have fallen through, but as luck would have it, an activities director from a major cruise line just showed up and offered to help me put on this shindig.”
“That’s the Chance luck working for you,” Gabe said.
“But I’m not a Chance.”
Gabe clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re part of the family, so that makes you an honorary Chance. As such, you might as well learn the family motto handed down from Grandpa Archie.”
“Which is?”
“Chance men are lucky when it counts.”
Alex sent the briefest glance toward Tyler. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Tyler waited until they were out the door and standing on the covered porch before she commented. “I saw that look.”
“What look?” Alex had grabbed a gray-felt cowboy hat from the same rack Gabe had used. Holding it by the crown, he settled it on his head with practiced ease.
“The look you gave me when Gabe told you about the family motto. Just to be clear, the motto is ‘Chance men are lucky,’ not ‘Chance men get lucky.’” But, oh, man, he’d increased his odds exponentially by adding the hat. She couldn’t say what it was about a guy in a Stetson, but wearing one sure did multiply the sexy factor.
Alex laughed. “What made you think I had any such thoughts?”
“Are you saying you didn’t?”
He gazed at her for a moment before answering with a brief smile. Then he turned to study the darkening sky. A tug on the brim of his hat brought it lower over his eyes. “We need to take that tour of the ranch ASAP before the storm hits.”
Tyler’s breath caught. The hat was a sexy addition, but when Alex took hold of the brim and pulled it down, she melted. One little innocent gesture created a soulstirring image of courage and purpose, of protecting the weak, and shoot-outs in the middle of a dusty street at high noon.
That simple movement made Alex seem more focused and intense, even a little bit dangerous. No doubt about it, there was something compelling about a guy wearing a cowboy hat. For a gorgeous specimen like Alex, it was almost overkill.
She took a deep breath of air that already smelled of rain. “Lead on.” She followed him down the porch steps.
Once they moved away from the shelter of the two-story ranch house, the wind cut through the light cotton of her T-shirt.
“The hands set up bleachers over by the largest corral.” Alex pointed to a spot where a small set of metal bleachers had been erected. “I’d planned to protect the guests with a canopy, but now I only have one, and the food and beverages should be under cover, either for shade or rain protection.”
“Let’s check out the barn.” She started toward the large hip-roofed structure that was the biggest building on the property outside of the main house. “There should be places in there where people can get in out of the rain.”
“At least it’s clean as a whistle. The hands have been working on it all day. They’ll go through again first thing in the morning, but they’ve put down fresh straw everywhere and set out some fresh hay bales which can be used for seating.”
“I can smell the hay from here.” And the scent turned her on. She still had a three-inch piece of it she’d plucked from the mounds scattered in the hayloft. It sat on a shelf along with her collection of souvenirs from her travels, and every once in a while she’d pick it up and sniff it. The aroma was fading, but her memories of Alex never had.
Last August as she and Alex had gathered up their clothes in preparation for leaving, Alex had explained that the ranch had outgrown the capacity of the hayloft and it was now strictly ornamental. A hay barn held the bales that supplied the ranch animals. But the old barn was the only structure left of the original ranch buildings, and so the Chance brothers threw some loose hay up in the loft every spring because their father had liked the picturesque way it looked.