Gabe ran his hand through his hair. "Look, I can see where you're going with this reasoning, but I'm not like Jack. He gives single-mindedness a bad name."

"Okay." She held out his hat.

He took it and crammed it on his head. "I mean, maybe I've gone a little overboard when it comes to you, but that's understandable, too."

"Is it?"

"Sure. You're so much my type it's scary. You're like an all-you-can-eat buffet of my favorite foods."

That made her smile. "I guess that describes how I feel about you, too."

"Yeah?" He liked knowing that.

"Mmm. You're a true banquet, Gabriel Archibald Chance. An endless feast." She got that look in her eye, the one that made him forget everything except taking her back to bed.

He shoved back the brim of his hat. "You know, Morgan, it's not all that late. We could take a little time to head on down the buffet table again and load up our plates."

"No."

"No? But you just said-"

"I know what I just said." She looked into his eyes.

"You may not be like Jack, but I am. And tonight I'm going to practice moderation, even if it kills me. Go home, Gabe."

15.

SENDING Gabe home was one of the toughest things Morgan had done in a while. Driving out to see Sarah Chance the next morning came in a close second. Morgan wasn't guilty of the cra.s.s opportunism Jack had accused her of, but she was guilty of turning down Gabe's marriage proposal, or what had pa.s.sed for one.

All the way down the long dirt road, she tried to convince herself that it hadn't been an actual proposal. Gabe had only said they could have kids and she'd be a great mother. That wasn't the same as pledging his undying love and begging for her hand.

Come to think of it, the word love hadn't been part of the discussion. Gabe had been honest about his unremitting case of l.u.s.t, but the other L-word hadn't been mentioned. Sarah had said she wanted Gabe to find someone he loved pa.s.sionately and who loved him back with equal pa.s.sion.

Okay, then. Morgan didn't need to feel as if she'd stomped all over Sarah's dream of having her as the newest daughter-in-law candidate. Sarah wouldn't want any wedding plans that didn't come with buckets of love. Gabe didn't love her and she didn't love him.

She couldn't possibly love him. That would be totally illogical, against the laws of nature. They'd known each other for six months in high school and had only reconnected two days ago. Love took longer than that to develop. Everyone knew that.

But...she couldn't deny she'd had a major crush on Gabe in high school, or that she'd thought about him many times since then. She hadn't moved to Jackson Hole specifically because of Gabe Chance, but once she'd arrived in the area, she'd checked on his marital status.

Ever since coming to Shoshone, she'd hoped to catch a glimpse of him. She'd given up after discovering that he spent his summers out of town partic.i.p.ating in cutting-horse compet.i.tions. But if she wanted to be brutally honest with herself, she'd known that he'd returned at the end of June, and she had hoped they'd run into each other during the town's Fourth of July activities.

If a person could be poised to fall in love, then she was in that category. And Gabe had proved to be gallant, funny, a good sport, a great dancer and a dynamite lover. Every time he popped into her mind, which was embarra.s.singly often, her heart fluttered. Every time they met, her heart raced. And when they were naked together, her heartbeat went totally off the charts.

Oh, h.e.l.l. She was in love with him. How had that happened? And how could she make sure that n.o.body found out, especially Sarah, but most especially Gabe himself?

How embarra.s.sing if he should figure out that she was in love with him, when all he felt was l.u.s.t. How pathetic would that make her? Well, he wouldn't find out.

By the time she was eight years old, she'd perfected the art of pretending not to care. When her parents had repeatedly yanked her away from a place soon after she got comfy there, she'd learned to act as if it didn't matter. She'd use that skill to keep her secret.

The Last Chance was one gorgeous place, and since this might be the last time she drove out here, she took the time to admire the house as she approached. The gravel drive that circled around in front created an island of greenery anch.o.r.ed by two blue spruce trees. Their velvety branches swooped gracefully, as if gesturing toward the ma.s.sive front door.

Judging from the height of the trees, which were taller than the house, Morgan guessed that Gabe's grandparents had planted them. This was a home built to welcome and house loving couples. No wonder that's what Sarah wanted for all her sons.

Speaking of Sarah, she sat on the porch in a rocker with another woman about her age. Although Sarah had chosen to leave her silken bob its natural white color, the other woman had opted for golden blond. Both women were dressed in jeans and checkered Western shirts.

Morgan was surprised to see someone else there. She'd expected Sarah would want to keep the discussion confidential.

If Morgan had to guess, she'd say the blonde with the curvy figure was Pam Mulholland from the Bunk and Grub. Both women stood when Morgan got out of her Grand Vitara and walked toward the front steps.

Sarah smiled as if greeting an old friend. "Hey, Morgan! Pam stopped by to see how our egg supply was holding out and I asked her to stay and meet you since last night didn't work out."

"I'm the egg lady," Pam said. "I've always wanted to keep chickens, and now, with the B and B, I can."

"And she's kindly agreed to sell her surplus to us. Did you bring business cards, Morgan?"

"I...uh, sure. I have some." Morgan never left home without her business-card holder, but she hadn't expected to haul it out this morning. She fished it from her purse as she mounted the porch steps.

"I guess a formal introduction isn't necessary," Sarah said. "Tell me, Pam, do you notice any horns growing out of Morgan's head?"

Morgan blinked. Apparently they were going to cut to the chase.

Pam didn't seem the least surprised by Sarah's direct comment. "No horns. But that's a beautiful shade of red hair, Morgan. I a.s.sume that came from the Irish side of O'Connelli."

"My looks are from my dad's O'Conner relatives and my personality is more from the Spinelli side." She handed Pam all the cards she was carrying and shifted into professional mode. "Thanks for taking these and recommending me. Do you like wine?"

"I'm a big fan of chardonnay. Why?"

"If you refer someone to me and they tell me so, I like to show my appreciation."

Pam nodded. "Sounds like an excellent business practice." She looked closely at Morgan. "So I take it Jack thinks you're a real estate shark trying to sell the ranch out from under him?"

Sarah rolled her eyes.

"I guess Jack thinks that," Morgan said. "But I'm not-"

"Oh, we all know that," Sarah said. "Gabe is a good judge of character, and besides, yesterday before you came I called all my friends in town to find out what they knew about you. Everyone was extremely complimentary and a.s.sured me you weren't a greedy businesswoman."

"That's nice to hear."

Sarah nodded. "I was relieved, to say the least. In any case, I had to call this meeting so Jack will be convinced I've done due diligence on this issue."

"So you're not worried about my influence on Gabe?"

"My only concern is whether you and Gabe will figure out that you're madly in love with each other, or if you'll diddle around and screw it up."

Morgan's breath caught, but then she slipped into nonchalance like a suit of armor. "Goodness, we couldn't be in love. It's been all of two days."

"Sometimes that's enough. You weren't there last night to hear how Gabe stuck up for you when Jack wanted you tarred and feathered."

"I appreciate his doing that." Admittedly that gave Morgan a warm feeling, but she didn't dare attribute too much importance to it. Jack was on the outs with Gabe, anyway.

"I was in love with Jonathan after three days of intense dating," Sarah continued. "And you can't deny there's a certain...intensity between you two." She smiled knowingly.

Pam sighed. "I wish I could borrow a little of that and sprinkle it over Emmett. If I weren't so crazy about him, I'd want to hit him upside the head with a two-by-four. But that's another whole subject."

"We can talk about that, too." Sarah motioned to the empty rocker beside her. "Come sit with us and enjoy the view, Morgan. We'll dish about men."

"I thought you wanted to hear my philosophy of real estate sales. Gabe said-"

"I'm sure he gave you pointers on what to discuss in order to make the right impression, but really, all I needed to see was your reaction to the baby pictures yesterday."

Morgan flushed. "I'm sure anyone would have thought they were cute."

"Maybe, but you lingered. And I watched your face. I'm a mother. I know these things. You're in love with him."

Feeling disoriented, Morgan managed a faint "I see."

"Anyway," Sarah continued, "I've asked Mary Lou to come out and bring coffee and her famous sticky buns. We may not be able to solve all the male-related problems around here, but if the four of us put our heads together, we might figure out what the h.e.l.l to do about our biggest problem child, and that's Jack."

As Morgan struggled to regain her composure, Mary Lou arrived with a pot of coffee and her homemade sticky buns. Fortifying themselves with food and drink, the women proceeded to dissect Jack's behavior over the past nine months since his dad's death. Everyone agreed he needed to ditch the guilt and rejoin the human race.

Morgan quickly lost her self-consciousness among these wise and friendly women. She hadn't laughed so much in ages. For the first time since she'd moved to Shoshone, she truly felt a part of life here. Everyone else had been nice enough, but these three women accepted her in a way she hadn't experienced before.

She knew why that was, too. Sarah had given her the Chance stamp of approval. She had decided that Morgan and her son were in love with each other and it was only a matter of time before they figured that out and tied the knot. Morgan saw a million pitfalls in that scenario, but she wasn't going to spoil the mood on this beautiful morning.

Pam turned to Sarah. "Did Nick and Dominique settle on a site for the house before she left?"

"They're considering the spot where they first met. It's a rocky meadow, but they could use the rocks to build a beautiful fireplace. It's also far enough away that they'll have some privacy."

"And close enough that we'll get to spoil the grandkids," Mary Lou said.

"Yeah." Sarah's expression grew dreamy. "Nick will make a great father. So will all the boys, in fact. Even surly Jack, once he finds the right woman."

Morgan would have loved to throw Josie's name into the conversation. She thought Josie had the backbone to deal with a guy like Jack. But Morgan wasn't about to launch a grenade into the middle of this cozy group. Besides, the topic of kids was a sensitive one for her.

Like it or not, any further relationship with Gabe was problematic. Granted, his s.e.xual interest might eventually blossom into love. But she would be foolish to hope for that, because sooner or later the issue of children would become a bone of contention. Gabe would want them. His mother would long for them.

But Morgan just...didn't have any enthusiasm for the project. She especially didn't relish the idea of having babies while their father traipsed off to ride in cutting events. She wouldn't want to be the nag who insisted he stay home, but she wouldn't want to be the drudge left behind, either.

Better to end her a.s.sociation with Gabe and hope she could keep the friendship with Sarah, a woman she really liked. If Morgan planned to stay in Shoshone, she shouldn't get involved with Gabe unless she was prepared to go the whole nine yards, including babies. She wasn't willing to make that sacrifice.

But she'd rather not be the bearer of bad news. Gabe could tell his mother that Morgan was a great person but they weren't destined to be together. Sarah would take it better from her son, and perhaps Morgan could establish a relationship with Sarah the way she had with the mothers of other guys she hadn't married. This could work out.

If the thought of giving up a man she'd come to love drove a spike through her heart, she'd get over it. She'd grow and flourish in this town she'd chosen with or without Gabe Chance. Whatever else she was, she was a survivor.

GABE TOOK the ranch's single horse trailer to fetch Hornswaggled, the brown-and-white goat Doozie had been so attached to. Of course Bennington had insisted on a ridiculous price because he'd known Gabe needed this goat and not some generic model to calm Doozie. If Gabe had been able to use any old goat, he would have bought one in Jackson, which would have been cheaper and a whole lot less trouble.

The long drive to Colorado and back had given him time to think, though, and to miss Morgan. Missing Morgan was pretty much what he did all the way there and all the way back. He noted with interest that he missed that woman more than riding in compet.i.tion. A startling discovery.

Whatever radio stations he managed to tune in were playing, as fate would have it, sentimental love songs. Gabe usually liked his music fast and loud, but on this trip sentimental worked for him.

Love songs could get a guy to consider that his attraction to a woman might be about more than s.e.x. He might start realizing that a certain woman, aka Morgan O'Connelli, possessed the honesty and loyalty to go the distance in a relationship. A guy could begin to appreciate a woman's generosity and pluck. A woman who knew how to deal with life's ups and downs.

By the time Gabe was within twenty miles of home, he'd reached a few conclusions. Both the music and the situation with the goat had helped organize his thoughts.

He didn't know how Doozie and the goat had hooked up originally, but they were bonded now. When he'd found the goat, he'd been as miserable-looking as Doozie. The two of them needed each other. Hornswaggled wouldn't be content to bunk in with another horse, and Doozie wasn't sharing her stall with any goat off the street.

Whether Gabe liked it or not, he'd formed the same kind of bond with Morgan, although she might not appreciate being compared to a goat. So he'd be the goat and she could be the pretty bay mare. Didn't matter.

What mattered was the bonding concept. Whether they made it official with a preacher or simply hung out together until they were old and gray, he needed this particular woman. She was his chosen mate, and a subst.i.tute wasn't going to work for him.

He wasn't so sure about Morgan, though. She was more of a free spirit than he'd realized at first. He'd confused her yearning for a home of her own with a yearning for a husband and kids. She wasn't big on that option.

He knew that for sure, now, because she'd sent him a text message after meeting with his mother. Whenever he stopped for gas or to get something to eat, he looked at it again. He hadn't replied, because a message like that needed to be answered in person.

Saw yr mom. She deserves grandkids. U deserve kids. This is over.

No, it most certainly wasn't. Whether she realized it or not, she was his Doozie, the one he was destined to share a stall with for the rest of their natural lives. He'd figured this out by applying the No-Morgan test. He pictured his life without her in it, which was what she'd suggested in her text message. Totally unacceptable.

Then he pictured his life with Morgan, even if he had to give up the whole marriage-and-kids option, even if he had to scale way back on his riding, and...well, he'd do it. Morgan was more important than any of that.

The trip back from Boulder was eight-plus hours and Gabe got a late start because Bennington dithered around during the loading. So it was after dark when he drove the truck and trailer up next to the barn so he could unload Hornswaggled. He was looking forward to the happiness he would bring both horse and goat, but after he accomplished that reunion, he had one of his own in mind. He planned to unhook the trailer and drive his truck into town.

A single light burned inside the barn, and Gabe noticed that Pam's red Jeep was parked next to the building. He wasn't sure what that was all about. Leading Hornswaggled down the ramp, he headed toward the closed barn doors.

The two dogs, Butch and Sundance, would already be inside and bedded down for the night. Nick made sure of that so they wouldn't be tempted to tangle with the wolves that roamed the hills near the ranch. For the same reason, foals and dams were kept in the barn, and any other vulnerable creature such as Doozie, who was injured.

Holding Hornswaggled's lead rope in his left hand, Gabe approached the barn's double doors and swung open the one on his right. Somebody must have recently oiled the hinges because the door didn't squeak.

That explained why the two people engaged in a serious lip-lock didn't hear Gabe. He stared at Emmett and Pam executing an R-rated clinch. Emmett had both hands on the seat of Pam's jeans, his fingers spread as he aligned his hips with hers. Fortunately both of them still had all their clothes on, but the way they were glued together, that situation could change any second.

Gabe wasn't sure how to handle this. He needed to put Hornswaggled in Doozie's stall, but in order to do that, he'd have to walk past Emmett and Pam. They might not have noticed him yet, but if he paraded by them leading a goat, they'd notice. Or maybe not, considering the heavy breathing going on.

Hornswaggled took the decision out of his hands by bleating pitifully. Doozie answered with a whinny.

Emmett and Pam leaped apart as if they were both on fire. Which, in a manner of speaking, they were. They'd been consumed by the flames of pa.s.sion, and now the flames of embarra.s.sment licked at their red faces.

"Uh, sorry." Gabe ducked his head to hide a grin. His matchmaking mother would be tickled to hear about this.

Emmett cleared his throat. "I'd be much obliged if you'd keep this to yourself. It's my fault. I...I over-stepped." He glanced at Pam. "Please accept my apologies."

"I will not!" Pam placed her hands on her hips. "You can pretend to be sorry all you want, Emmett Sterling, but you were into it."