Claimed by Vicki Lewis Thompson
Chapter Two
Jack chose to wait for Josie beside her dark green Bronco. As he leaned against the fender, cool night air blew most of the cobwebs from his brain and left him with a clear and present truth. He’d behaved like an ass tonight.
He’d been behaving like an ass quite a bit lately, but tonight could qualify as his most spectacular display of assholeness in his entire thirty-two years. If they gave out medals for being a complete loser, he would win the gold, hands down.
As his punishment, he would accept this ride home from Josie, because he didn’t have a lot of choice. Rousting Gabe out of Morgan’s bed and demanding the keys to Gabe’s truck would only add to Jack’s list of transgressions. Sure, he could walk home, but that would take a good hour, maybe closer to two. And besides, everyone knew cowboys didn’t walk.
So instead he waited for Josie and stared up at the unlit sign of a cowboy on a bucking bronco, with Spirits and Spurs lettered underneath. The bar used to be called The Rusty Spur, but Josie had changed the name when she’d bought the place three years ago. Newcomers to Shoshone assumed the Spirits part referred to alcohol. A person had to stick around awhile to find out that Josie considered the bar haunted. Many locals played along and called the after-hours visitors Ghost Drinkers in the Bar.
Jack didn’t believe in ghosts. More specifically, he didn’t want to believe in ghosts. All he needed was to have his father come back from the dead and tell him he was screwing up the management of the ranch.
He probably was screwing it up. Everyone complained that he worked them too hard, that he worked himself too hard. But he was in charge of the whole operation, now, and he’d be damned if the Last Chance would go in the red on his watch.
Footsteps on gravel alerted him that Josie had arrived. He turned to watch her walk in his direction. Even in the dim light from the dusk-to-dawn lamp he could tell her expression was wary.
He ached for a return to the old days, when she’d greeted him with a smile brighter than a summer morning. Those days were gone, and if he’d had any idea of recapturing them, he’d ruined that possibility by attacking her brother and making a fool of himself in the process.
“An apology seems pretty lame under the circumstances,” he said. “But I’m offering one, anyway. I’m sorry I tried to punch out your brother.”
Her wary expression changed and she began to laugh. “Tried being the operative word. I’ve never seen you so uncoordinated, Jack.”
Her laughter helped ease the tension. “Good thing I wasn’t at my best, then. You’d be a lot more pissed at me if I’d rearranged his face.”
“He also would have rearranged yours. He might be a city boy, but he’s no slouch when it comes to a fight.”
Jack admired her loyal streak. Ten months ago he’d been entitled to her loyalty, too. “I don’t doubt it. He’s your brother.”
That seemed to sit well with her, and she smiled. “And he’s more protective than I remembered. He told me to mention the possibility of cement overshoes.”
“In Wyoming?”
She shrugged.
“He needs to acclimate to the western way of doing things. Out here we bury people up to their necks in ant hills and pour honey on them.”
“Duly noted.” She pulled her keys out of her jeans pocket. “Ready to go?”
“Sure.” He would rather stand out here and talk until dawn the way they had the first time they’d realized their mutual attraction.
He’d never forget that spring night. He’d flirted with her at the bar and then stayed until closing. She’d walked him out to the parking lot and they’d talked until sunup. Before he’d driven away, he’d kissed her and promised that the next night they’d do more than talk. And boy howdy, had they. They’d burned up the sheets that first night, and many nights after that.
As he climbed into her Bronco, he realized he’d never been a passenger in her vehicle. They’d gone into Jackson a few times during the six months they’d been lovers, but he’d always driven. This reversal of roles felt weird. It threw him off his game.
When she got in, bringing with her the scent of peach schnapps, he braced himself for the tough part — being this close without touching her. They used to ride down the road with their hands entwined. A few times they’d parked somewhere secluded and made out because they couldn’t wait for the privacy of her apartment.
“Buckle up, cowboy.”
“Right.” He’d been caught staring at her and reminiscing. Not cool. He latched his seat belt and took a deep breath. “Thanks for driving me home.”
“No problem.” She started the engine. “Just where is your truck, anyway? I seriously doubt you walked into town.”
“I rode in with Gabe. We… had an errand over at Morgan’s.”
“Oh?” She pulled the Bronco onto the two-lane main road, which was deserted at this hour. “So where’s Gabe?”
“Still at Morgan’s, I’m sure.”
“Oh.” She caught the green at the town’s only stoplight and headed toward the edge of town. “So they’re back together?”
“Looks like.” Jack thought it was Gabe and Morgan’s business when they announced the engagement. Although the ending to the evening could stand improvement in his case, he was happy that those two had patched things up.
“I’m beginning to get the picture.” Josie increased the Bronco’s speed as they left the town limits. “You had nowhere else to go, so you came over to my place.”
“You make it sound like a last resort.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“No. I could have…” She had him there. He had some buddies in town, but he’d made himself scarce recently because of the ranch responsibilities. After blowing them off every time they’d asked him to meet them for a beer, he couldn’t very well show up in the middle of the night looking for a ride home or a place on the couch.
“Good old Josie.” Her good humor seemed to have faded some. “A guy can always count on her to take him in, right?”
“That’s not the way I was thinking.” Fact was, he hadn’t been thinking or he would have figured out an alternative. Worse came to worse, he could have gone to Grandma Judy’s. Technically she wasn’t his grandmother. She was his stepmother Sarah’s mom.
She would have taken him in, though. And then told Sarah all about it the next day. He could have weathered that, but he wasn’t about to get an eighty-six-year-old woman out of bed, especially one who’d had a hip replacement barely two months ago.
“To think I imagined you’d chosen to come over to my place,” Josie said. “Instead I was just handy.”
“You have it all wrong!” The more she voiced the truth, the harder he’d deny it.
“I don’t, either. Man up and admit it, Jack. I was the alternative to sleeping on a park bench, nothing more.”
“Is this why you offered to drive me home? So you could chew my ass all the way there?” Not that he blamed her.
“I offered because I’m a bartender, and I’m trained to recognize when someone is impaired and shouldn’t drive. I thought you had your truck and were about to get in it. I didn’t know you were stranded.”
“So if you’d known I didn’t have a truck to drive, you would have let me walk?”
She didn’t answer.
“You would have, wouldn’t you? Well, we can take care of that right now. Pull over.”
“No.”
“Pull over, damn it!”
“I said I’d drive you home and I will drive you home. I honor my commitments.”
“What do you mean by that crack?”
Her jaw tightened. “I think you know.”
She’d just pushed him too far. Jack Chance always honored his word. “We didn’t have a commitment.”
“Oh, good one, Jack! No woman ties you down, does she? You can spend every spare minute getting naked with her, but I guess it’s all about the sex, because when it comes to making a commitment, you just can’t see yourself doing that, can you?” Her voice sounded funny, sort of choked up.
He peered at her in the dim light of the dashboard. “Josie, are you crying?”
“No!” She swiped at her cheeks. “Got something in my eye.”
He didn’t buy it. She was crying, and that rattled him. In six months of being together, he’d never seen her cry. Of course, he’d broken up with her over the phone, and after delivering the message, he’d hung up rather quickly. He’d probably made her cry then, but he’d avoided thinking about that.
“Josie.”
“That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry for… everything.” He doubted a global apology would do much good, but he wasn’t experienced at apologizing.
She cleared her throat. “No reason to apologize, Jack. You’re just being you. I guess you got tired of the celibate life, huh?”
“What?”
“I know you haven’t been seeing anybody since we broke up. Everybody says you’ve become a workaholic. Stands to reason that given a free night in town with no truck available, you’d look up the woman you used to have sex with. Perfectly logical.”
“Damn it to hell! That’s not why I came to see you tonight!” But it was, in a way. He’d had some vague idea that she might be glad to see him after all this time. She hadn’t hooked up with anyone, either, or at least that’s what he’d thought until he’d seen a guy standing in her doorway.
“It’s okay, Jack.”
No, it wasn’t. Everything was a gold-plated mess. He’d followed Gabe’s suggestion in hopes that he’d be able to make up with Josie and return to an uncomplicated relationship built on laughter and sex. At least he’d always considered the relationship uncomplicated.
Clearly he’d been wrong.
He didn’t know what to say that would help the situation, and Josie seemed all talked out, so they drove in silence the rest of the way to the ranch. The long road from the highway to the ranch was unpaved because that’s how his father had wanted it. Jonathan Chance thought an unpaved road would discourage gawkers, while the true horsemen and women determined to see the registered Paints bred by the Last Chance wouldn’t be deterred by a little dirt and dust.
Jack wasn’t about to pave the road and go against tradition, but as Josie’s Bronco jolted over the ruts, he vowed to have it graded soon. Maybe he’d rent a grader and do it himself.
At last Josie eased to a stop in the circular gravel drive in front of the two-story ranch house. Constructed of logs by Jack’s grandfather Archie, the house had grown as the family had expanded. The right wing had been added when Jack’s father was born, and Jack’s father had built the left wing as his three boys grew older and needed more space.
Each wing was angled so that the house seemed to offer an embrace. Or a trap.
“This is a big place,” Josie said, breaking the silence.
“Yeah.” Jack didn’t need to be reminded. Big place. Big responsibility.
“I know I’ve been out here before, but everything was… different.”
“My dad was still alive.”
“Right. But tonight, driving out here through Chance land, and then seeing the house and the outbuildings again… it’s made me realize what a job you inherited last October.” She gazed straight ahead, as if fixated on the house.
“I can handle it.” What else was he supposed to say? He wasn’t going to lay his troubles at her feet like some jerk looking for sympathy.
“I’m sure you can.” She glanced at him. “Take care of yourself, Jack.”
He recognized a kiss-off remark when he heard it. She was done with him. He shouldn’t be surprised. After ten months of silence he’d shown up slightly drunk, with no advance warning, and he’d laid into her brother.
Good thing he hadn’t counted on her welcoming him back. This had been an experiment, and it had failed spectacularly. With practiced ease, he closed off his heart.
“See you around.” It was a phrase he used a lot, but in this case it was especially inappropriate. He wouldn’t be seeing her around, not if he could help it. Not if she could help it, either, probably. He got out of the truck and walked toward the darkened house.
Behind him gravel crunched as she drove away. Well, that was over with. Completely over with.
* * *
As she drove back to Shoshone, Josie refused to let herself cry again. She’d already shed way too many tears over Jack Chance. But she couldn’t seem to do anything about the ache in her chest. She’d reopened a wound that had finally started to heal, and now she remembered what that pain had felt like.
When she’d imagined him coming back, and she’d imagined it far too often for her own good, she’d expected him to make some grand gesture, something worthy of a Chance man. Instead their reunion had been an afterthought, the by-product of whatever had happened with Morgan and Gabe. Man, that hurt.
She made the return trip to Shoshone in record time. Fortunately no cops were around to see her put the pedal to the metal and hurtle back down that two-lane road away from the Last Chance Ranch, away from Jack Chance and his half-assed apologies. It would be a cold day in hell before she ever gave that guy room in her heart.
This time she’d tamp down any remaining sparks of hope that they could rekindle the flame between them. Jack was a lost cause. She should have realized that a long time ago, but she realized it, now. Whether his issues arose from his mother leaving him when he was a toddler or his father dying in a rollover that Jack felt he could have prevented, the guy obviously wasn’t ready to deal with his demons.
She parked next to the Spirits and Spurs and climbed the stairs to her apartment. Although she loved her brother to distraction, she wanted to be alone right now. But she had to let him know she was home or he’d worry about her.
When she walked in, Alex was sitting on the couch reading the same news magazine he’d had earlier. He glanced up immediately. “Well?”
“It’s over for good this time.” She ignored the way her chest tightened when she said that.
“You don’t look happy, but it’s probably for the best. In the long run, I mean.”
“It is.” She took a shaky breath. “I thought he’d put some thought into coming over here. I even told myself he’d been drinking to bolster his courage to face me. But he only dropped by because his brother stranded him in town. He had nowhere else to go.”
“Aw, sis.” Alex stood and came toward her, as if he wanted to give her a hug.
She held up a hand. “Don’t be too sympathetic, or I might lose it, and I’m determined not to do that. The bastard doesn’t deserve my tears.”
“No, he doesn’t. But he deserves some grief from me. If you’ll point me in the direction of this ranch of his, I’d like to—”
“Thanks, but no thanks, Alex. I appreciate the sentiment. I really do. But you ending up in a physical confrontation with Jack isn’t going to help anything. Besides, he’s… he’s in really good shape.”
She’d tried to avoid thinking about that hard body of his the entire time they’d been cooped inside the Bronco together. She’d failed. The minute she’d breathed in his scent, a combination of leather, spice, and virile male, she’d experienced total recall of what that body could accomplish with a willing woman.
Had he touched her, she might have forgiven him everything. She was lucky he hadn’t tried.
“I’m in good shape, too,” Alex said quietly. “And it would give me great satisfaction to cause him some pain after what he’s put you through.”
She shook her head. “That would only stir the pot. The best way to handle Jack Chance is to ignore him completely. I intend to, and I’d like you to do the same.”
“But—”
“Please, Alex.”
“Okay.” He shrugged. “It’s your town.”
“Not really. If it’s anybody’s town, it belongs to the Chance family. They’re the reigning royalty around here.”
Alex crossed his arms and studied her. “I’ll bet there’s a quaint little bar for sale somewhere in downtown Chicago.”
“I wouldn’t give Jack the satisfaction of running me out. I love it here, and the bar’s doing very well. At this rate I’ll have the building paid for in five years. I’m staying.” She lifted her chin. “And Jack Chance can kiss my ass.”
