Ambushed!. Vicki Thompson LewisЧитать онлайн книгу.
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.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever met Jack.”
“You may not have. He’d finished high school by then, and that was about the time my dad was getting out of the cattle business and switching over to selling paint horses. He needed Jack to help during the transition.”
She had her opening and she took it. “I was so sorry to hear about your dad.”
“Yeah, it was unexpected.”
“I’m sure.” Last fall she’d been working for a broker in Jackson when she’d heard Jonathan Chance had been killed in a rollover. By that time the funeral was over and she probably wouldn’t have gone, anyway. She hadn’t ever met Jonathan and wasn’t sure if Gabe or Nick would remember her.
Within a month of the accident, Morgan’s broker had gone down to Shoshone to leave his card in case Jonathan’s widow decided to sell the ranch. Morgan had been happy to hear that wasn’t going to happen, both for the family’s sake and for hers. When she moved to Shoshone, she wanted the community to be just as she remembered it, which included having the Chances still in residence.
Thinking about that now, she realized the parade would be the first one since Jonathan’s death. “Gabe, I’m a little slow on the uptake, but this isn’t the time for you to bring a stranger into a family event. You probably have enough to deal with.”
His glance was warm. “That’s considerate of you, Morgan, but in the first place, you’re not a stranger. You’re a friend from high school. In the second place, I think you’re exactly what we need to keep from getting bogged down in nostalgia.”
“Well, okay, but if anybody’s unhappy about it, we can still switch horses and the parade can go on without me.”
“That won’t be happening.” Gabe headed for the cluster of horses and riders near the Last Chance wagon. “Right this way, Miss O’Connelli. Let me introduce you.”
Morgan took a deep breath, but not too deep. That damned snap was going to stay fastened or else. She should have used a safety pin, but the shirt was satin and would show pin holes.
Riding along with Gabe was one thing. She knew him, at least a little bit. But facing the entire family was a daunting experience. Still, she was good at daunting experiences. Being tossed from pillar to post as a kid meant she’d had to learn how to adjust to whatever circumstances she found herself in.
Her first line of defense was her smile, so she trotted out a happy grin once they were close enough for Gabe’s family to notice.
Gabe started the introductions with a trim woman wearing a red Stetson, a Western shirt with red fringe, black jeans and red boots. Sleek white hair peeked out from under her hat but her eyes were covered by sunglasses.
“Mom,” Gabe said, “I’d like you to meet an old friend from high school. This is Morgan O’Connelli. Morgan, this is my mother, Sarah.”
Morgan kept her smile in place as she murmured a greeting.
Sarah returned the smile, but she seemed to be making an effort. “Nice to meet you, Morgan. You must be the new real estate agent in town.”
“That’s right.” Judging from the way Sarah said the words real estate agent, Morgan had the distinct impression that wasn’t a good thing. Maybe her broker hadn’t been the only one knocking on Sarah’s door after her husband’s death. “Have you had problems with agents bothering you?”
“You have no idea.”
Morgan cringed inwardly. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It hasn’t been fun.”
“Just so you know, I have no interest in your property.”
Sarah nodded without comment, and Morgan felt dismissed. Her usual charm wasn’t working at all with this woman, but she could understand why. This had to be a tough day for Sarah, and she couldn’t be happy having a rider in the group who was advertising a real estate agency on the back of her shirt.
“Hey, Morgan!” Nick, mounted on a butterscotch paint decked out in a silver-studded saddle, called over from his spot beside the wagon. “I wondered if that was you when the office opened.”
“It’s me!” Morgan was grateful for Nick’s friendliness.
He tilted his head toward a woman sitting in the wagon. “This is my good friend Dominique Jeffries from Indiana.”
Dominique’s short, dark hair peeked out from under a wide-brimmed straw hat and she had an expensive-looking camera on a strap around her neck. She waved at Morgan, her expression cheerful. “Hi! Looks like you two traded horses.”
Morgan started to explain but Gabe got there ahead of her.
“We had to,” he said. “Otherwise Morgan wouldn’t have been in the parade.” Then he introduced the other woman in the wagon—Mary Lou Simms, the ranch cook—and the driver—Emmett Sterling, the ranch foreman. Mary Lou was in charge of throwing candy to the kids along the route.
Both Mary Lou and Emmett gave her a pleasant but reserved greeting. Morgan told herself that was natural, under the circumstances. But so far, only Nick and the woman who was probably his girlfriend had been truly friendly.
Finally Gabe looked over at a dark-haired cowboy on the far side of the wagon. He wore all black, and was