Maverick Wild. Stacey Kayne
be wed by now. “You’ve not married?”
Chance gave a short, humorless laugh. “Marriage is not for me. Not in this lifetime.”
She found an odd sense of comfort in that response and rather agreed with his outlook.
“Miss Cora,” Garret said, reining in beside her. He leaned over and dropped a large coat over her shoulders, enveloping her in a warm lamb’s wool lining. “No sense in you shivering all the way to the ranch.”
“Thank you.” She pulled the thick coat tight and breathed in a musky, masculine scent.
“Chance can’t use it. You might as well stay warm.”
Chance noticed the sudden stiffness of her spine. She paused in the midst of securing the top button at her throat. After blindsiding him with all that sentimental talk about being her best friend, he didn’t see why she should be repulsed by wearing his coat.
“Do you mind?” she asked, meeting his gaze with clear reluctance.
“Why should I?” he said, unsure of how he felt about anything at the moment. He only wished he’d thought of it sooner. The heavy brown leather enveloped her from her chin to her knees. Keeping her covered up was a definite improvement.
“I have a layer of mud to keep me warm. Your lips are practically blue.”
“See you at the ranch,” Garret said as he set off ahead of them.
The wagon lurched forward. Cora resumed her hold on the seat as her exhausted muscles prepared for another jarring ride.
“Sure hope you got more sensible clothing in that trunk.”
“I have.” Indeed, there was nothing but sensible clothing in her trunk. Not that it mattered. Chance’s reception had made it painfully obviously she would not have been well received, no matter what she’d worn. Thankfully she’d ignored her mother’s order to throw out her maid attire.
She owed her mother nothing. Her life was her own.
Descending the hillside at hair-raising speed, she sucked in a deep breath of crisp Wyoming air, and tasted freedom.
Hours later the warm hues of sunset streaked the sky as they rode into a green valley with a horse ranch at its center. Snow-capped mountains rose up on either side. Cora gazed out in amazement at all Chance and Tucker had accomplished. A maze of fencing and outbuildings surrounded a massive two-story house. Horses milled about in the various pens and dotted the distant pastures.
As they neared the house, they captured the attention of men on horseback and others inside fences. Garret stood in the yard near a large barn. He held a little boy with the same pale shade of white-blond hair.
The moment they stopped, Cora shrugged Chance’s coat from her shoulders and jumped from the cart, ready to have her feet on the blessed unmoving ground.
“Unco ’ance!” The little boy, no older than two, ran toward them.
“Hey, Joshua.” Chance stepped beside Cora and crouched down to catch the child at midleap into his arms. He lifted him high, initiating wild giggles before he set him down on his little booted feet. It was the wide smile on Chance’s face that stole Cora’s attention, the pure joy that lit his eyes as he looked at Joshua. “You been good for your mama?”
Cotton-white curls flipped in the wind as he bobbled his head enthusiastically.
“Go tell Uncle Garret to give you your treat.”
Joshua glanced past his uncle, his big blue eyes taking Cora in before he turned and ran back to Garret.
Chance stepped around her, not bothering to introduce her to his nephew.
“Chance Morgan!” shouted a woman’s hostile voice.
He looked toward the house, his broad shoulders blocking Cora’s view. “Don’t worry. I plan to go around back and clean up before stepping foot in the house.”
“I should hope so!”
Cora eased around her rude host to see the tall woman standing on the porch. Her loose blond hair and blue dress whipped in the wind, the midsection of her dress strapped tight over her protruding belly. She appeared dreadfully overdue for giving birth. Her brilliant blue eyes surged wide as she spotted Cora.
“Oh! I didn’t realize we had company.”
Chance put his hand on Cora’s lower back and ushered her forward. “Skylar, this is Miss Cora Mae Tindale, my, uh…stepsister.”
Skylar gaped at her from the top of the stairs. “Truly?”
Cora struggled to smile as she shuffled up the steps. “I am sorry to arrive unannounced.”
“Nonsense. Tucker will be so excited. He’s mentioned you on several occasions. Isn’t this wonderful, Chance?”
He stood at the base of the steps, stiff as a stone statue, her carpetbag in one hand. “It is.”
“Where have you traveled from?” asked Skylar.
“Del-uhum, Massachusetts,” she corrected, catching her slip and the sudden scrutiny in Chance’s gaze. He knew full well her mother’s family resided in Delaware.
“Del—um, Massachusetts.” He held up her valise. “Can’t say I’ve heard of it.”
She snatched her luggage. “Yes, well, it’s…small.” Goodness gracious. This was going to be a very short visit.
“You came all that way alone?”
Cora turned to Skylar, anxious to escape the intensity of Chance’s green eyes, unnerved by the flutters in her belly. “I was able to travel by rail for much of the journey. The past week on the stage was a bit unsettling at times.”
“I can imagine. The stage line—” Skylar’s words broke off, her startled gaze looking past Cora. “Joshua, what’s in your mouth?”
Clutching his uncle’s big hand, he smiled a red toothy grin. “Canny.”
Skylar sighed before casting a disapproving glance at Chance. “You’re going to rot his teeth.”
Chance grinned as he ruffled the child’s white hair. “Baby teeth fall out anyhow, don’t they, cowboy?” He turned away, his nephew in tow. “I’ll bring the trunk in after I finish with the horses and wash up.”
“No more candy,” Skylar called after them.
“Fine.”
Skylar took Cora by the arm. “Let’s get out of this wind. You must be chilled to the bone.”
Cora stepped into a great room lined with honey-colored polished pine from the floor to the high ceiling. Instantly enveloped by heat, it felt like walking into pure sunshine. A fire crackled in the massive stone fireplace to her left. Across the room, a banister staircase led to an open second story. She was quite taken aback by the grandeur of it all, yet everything in the room spoke of simplicity.
Four oversize chairs covered in cowhide, a single rocking chair and a few wooden footstools were spaced around the fireplace and what appeared to be a sheepskin rug. To her left, in the immediate parlor area, a tapestry sofa and wing back chair complemented a bare coffee table.
“What a beautiful home.”
Skylar beamed. “Thank you. The kitchen is straight back.” She led her through the formal dining room. Oil lamps glowed from a circular chandelier above a long table already set with at least a dozen place settings. “I’m just finishing up with supper preparations.”
The scent of fresh bread wafted from the kitchen—another tidy room polished to a shine from floor to ceiling.
“Please, sit.” Skylar motioned to one of the six chairs.
“Thank you.” Cora set her bag beside