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  “I am. Listen, thanks for letting us borrow a couple of horses.”

  “Don’t mention it. Patches and Ink Spot will give you a good ride.” He untied the brown and white Paint. “I figured Patches for you because she matches your hair and I know color coordination can be so important to a woman.”

  Trina laughed as she accepted the reins and mounted up. “Absolutely. Can’t imagine getting on a horse that clashes with my hair. It’s just not cool.”

  Hutch untied Ink Spot’s reins and swung into the saddle. “Thanks again, Jack.”

  “No problem. And don’t hurry back. It’s a beautiful morning for a ride. I’d go with you if I didn’t have sixty-eleven things to do. See you later.” With a wave, he returned to the barn.

  “What were your instructions?” Trina asked as they walked the horses toward a gate leading into a wide meadow.

  “I told Josie we needed a good hard ride.”

  “Excellent instructions.” She leaned over as they reached the gate. “I’ll get it.” Once they were both through, she turned back and latched it again, moving with the agility of a woman used to dealing with gates while on a horse.

  He glanced over at her. “You know, that hat makes you look about sixteen.”

  “That’s how old it is. Mom still had it in the closet.”

  “Does it have a string to hold it on?”

  “It does.” Lifting the hat, she let the cord fall out and tightened it under her chin. “How about yours?”

  “I’ll hold it on.”

  “You can race one-handed?”

  “Honey, I can race no-handed.”

  “Now that’s the Hutch I remember. First one to the trees wins!” And she was off.

  Hutch nudged Ink Spot into a gallop and chased her down. Once he caught up with her, he pulled back a little so they could race neck-and-neck toward the trees at the far side of the meadow. Judging from Ink Spot’s response, Jack had given him the faster horse. Jack was that kind of friend, always wanting his buddies to look good in front of the ladies.

  But Hutch had no desire to win this race. He was content to run beside Trina and watch her soaking up the thrill of the ride. She glanced over at him once and her smile was wide and happy, as if she’d forgotten everything but her love of riding full-out.

  She hadn’t looked very happy standing at the bottom of the stairs this morning. He hadn’t been particularly happy, either. His dad could have told him something, at least, some little hint that life was about to change in a major way. And now Hutch had to end this thing with Trina when it had only just begun.

  As they neared the tree line, he tightened the reins and let Trina win.

  She whirled Patches around and waited for him while her horse pranced and snorted. “You pulled up, didn’t you?”

  “Who, me?”

  “No fair.” But she was laughing, so she couldn’t be too upset.

  “Let’s walk them into the trees and grab some shade.”

  “Sounds good.” She led the way along a narrow trail through dappled sunlight. Now that they were in partial shade, she’d slipped off her hat and let it hang down her back by the cord.

  Sunbeams filtered through the trees and picked out the highlights in her glossy brown hair. Now he knew the joy of running his fingers through those soft strands. He knew the sweet smell of her hair, and how it felt sliding over his body while she…okay, maybe he’d better not think about that, because those moments were over.

  But even if he squashed those thoughts, his heart was still captured by the beauty of the scene, and the beauty of the woman riding ahead of him. Now that they’d found each other, he hated like hell to give her up.

  But he couldn’t have casual sex with her anymore, not with his dad and her mother aware of it. They’d expect marriage plans, and that was out of the question. As a videographer, he was constantly on the move. As a trainer of race horses, so was she. Neither of them should have to give up careers they loved so they could be together.

  He edged into the subject sideways, resisting the idea of hitting it head-on. “So are we about to become related?”

  She turned in the saddle. “Sort of, I guess. I should probably call Nash today and clue him in.”

  “Speaking of Nash, is there a chance we can keep him from finding out about last night?” If it would never happen again, no use getting his buddy riled up.

  “I don’t know. I won’t say anything, but I can’t guarantee the ‘rents won’t. They’ve become a couple of loose cannons.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Hutch, I’m getting a crick in my neck. Can we get down so we can have a proper discussion?”

  “Sure.” So this was it. He stopped his horse and she did the same. After they’d tied both sets of reins to a low-lying branch, he motioned to a fallen log. “Will that do?”

  “It will.” She sat down and patted the spot next to her.

  “Maybe I should stand.”

  She gazed up at him. “Why?”

  “Because the closer I get, the more I want to kiss you, and I think, under the circumstances, we need to…”

  “Call a halt?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. “Damn it, I don’t want to, but…yes. Our cover is blown. And if they’re really getting married, we’ll be seeing each other at family gatherings. You heard my dad. He doesn’t approve of casual sex.”

  “I doubt my mother does, either.”

  “And then there’s your brother. Technically Nash is fine with people having casual sex, but not if his little sister’s the one having it, especially if you’re having it with me. Am I right?”

  She nodded. “Sadly you are.”

  “But our lives are too complicated and far apart for it to be anything else.”

  “I know. Normally I don’t care what people think, but these people are our nearest and dearest. Carrying on an affair under their noses would seriously affect our relationship with them, so…” She sighed. “I guess we’re done.”

  His jaw tightened in rebellion, but it seemed like the only way. “I guess we are.” He did his best to ignore the gaping hole of sadness threatening to swallow him at the realization that he would never make love to her again.

  “But our situation aside, I’m worried about you. Like I said before, I’ve had seven years to get over losing my dad, so this isn’t a huge shock to me. But for you it’s different. I can understand if you’re having a tough time with the idea of your dad taking a new wife.”

  “Yeah.” He stared at the pattern of leaves under his feet and thought about his mom. Then he remembered how lonely his dad had been for months. Lifting his head, he gazed at Trina. “You know what? I’m okay with Dad marrying Lucy, although it seriously messes us up. He needs someone, and she obviously adores him. But I’m mad as hell that he didn’t tell me what was going on.”

  “You have a right to be.” Trina stood and came over to put her arms around him. “I think he was worried you wouldn’t like it, but he should have told you. I’ll bet if you give him a chance to apologize, he will.”

  “Maybe so.” Once she nestled against him, he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping her up tight and laying his cheek on her silky hair. “You feel so good.”

  “You, too.”

  “I’m going to really hate seeing you from time to time and not being able to hold you like this.”

  “I know. I’ll hate it, too, but it’s for the best.”

  “There’ll be a big get-together at Christmas, I’ll bet.”

  “Probably.” She lifted her head and looked at him with dismay. “Do you think we’re all supposed to stay in your dad’s house? Including you, me and Nash?”

  “Now there’s an impossible situation. Sleeping down the hall from each other. Me, wanting you, and—”
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  “And me wanting you, yet we’re not willing to carry on a tacky affair during the visit.” Frustration creased her brow for many long seconds. Then, gradually, she began to smile. “There’s only one solution.”

  “I can’t imagine what. Trina, I’m not in a position to marry you and settle down, and I don’t see you being ready to do that, either.”

  “I’m not. But what if we’re not having an affair? What if we’ve committed to each other, but we don’t know what shape that commitment will take yet? Everyone knows our lifestyles don’t mesh, and we will acknowledge that, but we can tell them we’re working it out the best we can for now. It’s not a temporary affair. It’s not casual sex. It’s…a romance.”

  Hope flickered to life, easing his growing sense of despair. “I like the concept, but how can we work it out? For us, I mean, not the story we tell everyone.”

  “We’ll have to be creative and somewhat unconventional. You’ll be traveling and I’ll be traveling, but what if we figure out how to match up here and there? Surely our schedules could be flexible enough for us to find the time to rendezvous.”

  Slowly his bruised heart began to revive. “You’d be okay with that? Grabbing weekends, never knowing for sure how often we’d get together?”

  “If the alternative is swearing off you forever, I’d be more than okay with that. The thing is I seem to be falling in love with you, Langford Hutchinson.”

  That statement brought him so much happiness that he didn’t even care that she’d used his real first name. “What a coincidence.” He gazed into her eyes. “I seem to be falling in love with you, too, Katrina Bledsoe.”

  Smiling, she reached up to cup his face in both hands. “Then I think we should give ourselves a chance to explore that possibility, don’t you?”

  “Absolutely.” He lowered his head. “Starting now.” As he kissed her, he tasted the promise of all they would share in the coming months. If he had anything to say about it, they would fall so completely in love that time and distance would no longer matter. In fact, he could feel it happening already.

  * * * * *

  Turn the page to read an excerpt from

  Vicki Lewis Thompson’s next Sons of Chance novel,

  Long Road Home….

  Long Road Home

  1

  IF WYATT LOCK believed in omens, his return visit to the Last Chance Ranch had disaster written all over it. Rain drummed on the roof of his truck and sluiced over the windshield faster than the wipers could sweep it away. Every so often lightning would strike close enough to deafen him while providing a camera-flash view of the muddy road and the soggy Wyoming countryside.

  The storm had come on quickly, ambushing him after he’d already committed to the rutted dirt road leading to the ranch. The weight of his camper shell and the gear in the back helped keep him on the road, but trying to turn around now would almost guarantee he’d end up axle3 deep in mud. Going forward was his only option.

  He slowed the truck to a crawl and kept his headlights on, although they didn’t accomplish much. Still, he’d hate to run into something. A pair of taillights winked in the distance to let him know he wasn’t the only fool out here. But then the rain got serious again and reduced visibility to about fifteen feet in front of him.

  If his twin brother, Rafe, could see him struggling through this deluge, he’d laugh himself silly. Rafe had tried his best to talk Wyatt out of this harebrained scheme, but once Wyatt latched on to an idea, he couldn’t let it go. Jack Chance was his half brother, damn it, and they should get to know each other. Jack was Rafe’s half brother, too, but Rafe wasn’t interested in cementing any family ties.

  The rain let up for a second and there were the taillights again, several yards in front of him. Probably one of the ranch hands coming back from town. Could even be Jack.

  Wyatt’s gut tightened as he thought about his half brother. He probably should have alerted Jack that he was coming, but he knew exactly why he hadn’t. He’d been afraid Jack would tell him to stay away.

  Wyatt had shocked the hell out of him the previous summer by dropping by the ranch to introduce himself. He’d shown up without warning that time, too, not sure until he’d knocked on the ranch house door that he’d go through with it. Realistically, he should have expected Jack’s chilly response.

  No doubt Jack hadn’t believed him at first. He would have believed Rafe right away because the two men looked so much alike, both having inherited their mother’s dark hair and eyes. But Wyatt and Rafe were fraternal as opposed to identical twins, and Wyatt had ended up with his dad’s sandy hair and gray eyes.

  Eventually Jack had seemed to accept that Wyatt was his half brother, but he’d remained suspicious, as if Wyatt might want to cash in on the financial success of the paint horse breeding operation at the Last Chance. No, and hell no. Wyatt had a profitable wilderness trekking company based in San Francisco and wasn’t the least bit interested in Chance money, but Jack couldn’t know that.

  The money issue wasn’t the biggest reason for Jack to be prickly, though. Finding out that the mother who’d abandoned him had subsequently married a successful businessman and raised two more kids couldn’t be an easy pill to swallow. Worse yet, she’d kept Jack’s existence a secret from her second family until last year when the divorce from Wyatt and Rafe’s father had apparently loosened her tongue.

  Hiding the fact she’d had a kid thirty-odd years ago was pretty radical, even for his mother. But it wasn’t totally out of character. Diana had always been evasive about her past, as if she was ashamed of it. She claimed that she’d been through hard times and nothing more needed to be said. Yeah, well, she’d put Wyatt and Rafe through some hard times as they tried to deal with a completely self-absorbed mother.

  The taillights disappeared again as the rain redoubled its effort to drown this part of the country. Wyatt had years of experience handling every kind of weather, and he’d be damned if he’d end up in a ditch this afternoon and have to call the ranch for help. That wouldn’t improve his rep any.

  And he wanted his rep to be solid, wanted Jack and everyone else on the ranch to think of him as a competent outdoorsman, even if he wasn’t a cowboy. Maybe he and Jack would have things in common other than the obvious connection of having the same mother. Wyatt liked the idea of being related to a rancher.

  He’d always felt out of place in the circles his parents preferred. Rafe, with his business degree and his talent for investing, fit right in. Not Wyatt. He’d taken up hiking and camping as a teenager to escape charity balls and gallery openings.

  Jackson Hole had some of that high society element going on, especially within the Jackson city limits. But the little town of Shoshone about ten miles from the ranch was definitely more Wyatt’s style. A collection of small businesses and a single traffic light at the only major intersection—that was urban enough for Wyatt.

  If he chose to, he could relocate his company here. Adventure Trekking could operate as well—or maybe even better—from the Jackson Hole area as it did out of San Francisco. If he lived here, he could spend time at the ranch and get to know the Chance family. He had a feeling he’d fit in with them better than he ever had with his own family.

  But before he made any drastic changes, he needed to find out if Jack had mellowed toward the idea of Wyatt’s and Rafe’s existence. Jack’s resentment could be a major obstacle to Wyatt’s plan. The guy had obviously been hurt when Diana had left him, but in Wyatt’s opinion, Jack might have been better off without her in his life. Wyatt had asked around town, and the guy seemed to be doing just fine.

  Sure, his father had died a while back, but he still had his stepmother, Sarah, and two half brothers, Nick and Gabe. They all owned a part of the ranch and, according to what Wyatt had heard, everyone got along great. Jack was happily married now and had a kid of his own.


  Wyatt planned to keep that last bit of info to himself. He wasn’t sure how Diana would react to finding out she was a grandmother, and Jack didn’t need to have her suddenly appear and claim her grandmotherly rights. She might not care a whole lot about the baby, but she loved being the center of a drama.

  If Jack had a baby, that made Wyatt an uncle. He smiled at the idea. It was kind of cool to think about. Maybe he should have brought something for the baby, especially because he was once again arriving unannounced. But he hadn’t—

  Lightning flashed, nearly blinding him with its intensity. For a split second the road was lit up like a movie set. A crack of thunder followed, loud enough to make his ears ring. But in that brief moment of full light, he’d seen a Jeep Cherokee off on the side of the road up ahead, its right wheels buried in mud, the taillights still on.

  He hadn’t been able to tell if the vehicle was occupied, but he guessed it was if the lights were on. Once he was alongside it, he stopped and lowered his passenger side window to get a better look.

  The driver’s window on the Jeep slid down, too, which gave him his answer even before he saw the pretty woman with the hopeful expression gazing over at him. Her shoulder-length hair was streaked with red and blond, obviously a salon job and not her natural color, but it looked good on her. The Cherokee’s taillights must have been the ones he’d followed down the road.

  “Seems like you’re stuck!” he called out over the sound of the rain.

  “Yep! I was about to phone the ranch. Maybe somebody can come get me.”

  “I’m headed that way, if you want a ride.” He knew what he was suggesting wasn’t a perfect solution. That salon hairdo would be dripping with water by the time she made it into his truck, and her shoes would be covered with mud. But she’d be in the same fix if someone drove out here to get her. Trying to hitch a tow chain to her Jeep in this downpour with lightning flashing all around wasn’t reasonable.