Chapter Two
Chapter Two
C hance returned to the house after visiting with his men in the bunkhouse. He had eight men in total. The three who made Teakwood Ridge their home—Purdy, Amos, and Larry—had private sleeping quarters.
Before going into the house, he turned to gaze over his land. It was an awesome view from where he stood on his back porch. He didn’t know of anything more spectacular. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the face of the woman from yesterday flashed across his mind.
Chance would admit there had been something about her that was unforgettable, although he was trying hard to forget. Hell, he would admit thoughts of her had consumed his mind when he’d drifted off to sleep last night. Knowing how he felt about reporters, he couldn’t understand how such a thing happened.
He couldn’t rightly say he disliked all reporters because there were two in the Madaris family. His cousins Victoria and Christy. Because of them, he wouldn’t say all reporters were bad.
Chance drew in a deep breath when he realized what he was doing, namely, trying to find an acceptable excuse for the occupation of the woman he’d seen yesterday. He was well aware that everybody had to work for a living, but when someone’s occupation deliberately invaded the privacy of others, he had a problem with that.
It baffled the hell out of him as to why he was still thinking about her. He’d met attractive women before. But there had been something about her that he couldn’t explain, although he had been in her presence less than five minutes. However, that’s all the time it had taken for him to be captivated. His lips tightened at the thought since he was not a man easily dazzled.
Had it been her smile? Those damn dimples? The way her hair had touched her shoulders at a seemingly perfect angle. The way her jeans had hugged those luscious-looking hips of hers?
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and squinted in the morning sun. At least the sun was out, which hopefully meant today would be a better day than before. The weekend was three days away, and he would make it a point to visit downtown Houston—specifically, Vance’s Tavern. You could usually meet a willing woman there, and it was time to take care of his sexual needs. It had been six months since he’d shared a bed with a woman, and he was horny as hell.
Considering how intense his attraction had been to that woman yesterday, which hadn’t been typical for him, it was a good thing he knew nothing about her. Their paths wouldn’t likely cross again—end of story.
And speaking of story…he had alerted his uncle she was in the area. Jake thanked him for the information. However, Chance knew Whispering Pines was like a fortress. No one got on its lands unless invited by Jake and Diamond. That meant if the woman was determined enough to tell a story, she might bother the neighbors. If she did so, she would soon discover that, like the men who worked for Jake, his neighbors were just as loyal and kept their mouths shut.
Chance checked his watch. It was close to nine. His housekeeper and cook, Ms. Cate, was a timely person. She would have breakfast ready at nine, and unless it was roundup time or an emergency on the ranch that needed his attention, she expected him to be sitting at the kitchen table and eating by nine-fifteen.
Ms. Cate hadn’t just come highly recommended; his great-grandmother practically installed her there. Trying to convince Mama Laverne he didn’t need a housekeeper, or a cook had been a waste of time after she’d unexpectedly visited him one day. She hadn’t liked his housekeeping, or how his freezers were stocked with microwave dinners. She took offense to the latter since she had required all her grands and great-grands to attend her cooking classes when they’d turned sixteen. She’d felt there was no reason for microwave dinners to be in his freezer when he was a perfectly good cook. She knew because she’d taught him herself.
Cate Neville was an older, grandmotherly woman who had been the childhood best friend of his grandaunt Bessie, who was married to Nolan Sr. She arrived at eight and left at five on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Since he spent most of his time on the range, they didn’t get in each other’s way. He’d gotten used to having his home nice and neat and a delicious meal prepared for him, with enough leftovers for the days she didn’t come.
Drawing in a deep breath, he inhaled the scent of fried bacon and knew there would be mouth-watering pancakes or biscuits to go along with it. Turning, he went inside to wash up for breakfast.
***
Zoey took a deep breath when she brought her car to a stop at the entrance of the huge wooden marker that read Teakwood Ridge. The address beside the sign indicated this was the place. The home that her mother had once owned. The ranch that her aunt Paulina had sold on Zoey’s ninth birthday.
Already, there was a tingling sensation in the bottom of her stomach. Not only had she chased her dream, but she was finally about to face it. Had her parents deliberately led her here for a reason? Was this her mother’s way of reaching out to her, allowing her to discover another part of her past? Namely, the one Aunt Paulina refused to tell her anything about?
Lucky had called this morning wanting details of her agenda for today. She’d suggested that Zoey reinstall the tracking app the two of them shared as a security measure while in college, since they were two single women living alone in New York.
It took Zoey a good thirty minutes between brushing her teeth, washing her face, and blow-drying her hair to convince Lucky that such a thing was unnecessary. Best friend or not, she preferred Lucky not know her every single move. When she told Lucky this, her friend had laughingly accused Zoey of living a double life. Zoey had found the accusation hilarious, given she didn’t know everything about the one life she had. However, to appease her best friend, she promised Lucky that she would provide periodic updates throughout the day.
Checking her watch, she now saw it was almost ten thirty. Deciding not to waste any more time and hoping that the person who currently owned the house would be kind and understanding, she pulled onto the horseshoe driveway. After driving thirty feet, she saw the enormous ranch-style house in the distance. The tingling sensation in her stomach increased. Bringing the car to a stop, she gazed around.
There was something familiar about that tall oak tree she saw, whose branches seemed to stretch the perimeter of the front yard. Had she tried climbing it once? She beamed broadly, imagining doing so. Just because such a thing hadn’t been in her dreams didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.
Moving the car forward again, she finally stopped in front of the huge house. In addition to the tingling sensation, she felt a shiver begin washing over her as she stared at the wide wraparound porch with a swing. There was no doubt in her mind she had been here before. That swing seemed familiar.
Not far away, she saw a huge red barn, and beside it was another enormous structure. There was so much land, and it amazed her to think that, at one time, her mother owned all of it. She could imagine her mother growing up here as a child. Suddenly, Zoey felt a connection to this place that would have been hers had her aunt not sold it.
As she got out of the car, she wondered if anyone was home. There weren’t any cars parked out front, but there was a detached six-car garage. Did that mean a large family lived here? Would they believe her story about why she would show up on their doorstep asking to look around? Well, there was only one way to find out, she thought as she moved up the steps to the door.
It turned out to be a gorgeous day after such a torrential downpour the day before. Texas’s weather was different from Maryland’s, but she liked it more after two days.
After knocking on the door, she glanced around again. In the distance, she saw a herd of cows being moved toward an open range by several cowboys. That made her remember the cowboy she had seen yesterday. Did he work at one of the ranches in the area? Possibly even here?
“What the hell are you doing here?”
The angry male voice made her jump, and in stunned silence she turned and stared at the person who’d opened the door. The cowboy from yesterday—the same one she’d just been thinking about—was standing before her and looking just as tall, hot, and handsome as he had yesterday. And it was apparent that he was very angry. Why? Since he’d opened the door, she could only assume he lived here. She guessed his age to be in his early thirties. Was he the son of the owners? Why was he frowning at her like that? Surely, he remembered her after he’d stopped and offered help the day prior. What had him so riled today?
“I asked what the hell are you doing here?” he said again in a harsher tone. “If you’re here to ask questions, don’t bother. I won’t be telling you a damn thing.”
Zoey swallowed. How had he known she wanted to ask him questions? The only person who knew why she was here was Lucky. Finding her voice, she said, “Surely you can answer a few of my inquiries.”
He placed his arms across his chest, and his frown deepened. Why did his menacing stance make him appear even sexier? And why on earth was she noticing that? “I won’t answer anything,” he snapped. “Nor will any of the other neighbors. So, I guess you’ll have to write your article without our input.”
Now she was the one frowning while looking up at him. “What article?”
“The kind reporters write. And to give you a warning, the last tabloid that thought of doing so found out the hard way what can happen when they publish lies.”
Tabloid? What on earth was this man talking about? “You think I’m a reporter?” she asked incredulously.
“Aren’t you?”
“No.”
“And you want me to believe that?” he asked, chuckling derisively.
Zoey mimicked his stance and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t see why not.”
She wasn’t sure how it was possible, but his frown deepened even more. “Look, lady, I can tell you why I don’t believe you. I saw your camera and the equipment you took out of the trunk of your car yesterday. Secondly, you’re here to ask questions. That’s what reporters do.”
She stared at him. Now it all made sense. She recalled that when she’d taken that stuff from her trunk, his entire demeanor had changed, and he’d quickly left like a bunch of hounds were on his heel. That meant his attitude, then and now, was because he assumed she was a reporter. Although she had no idea why a reporter would come here, she could see why he thought she was one.
“Photography is a hobby of mine, and my camera and equipment usually go wherever I do,” she said, refusing to be intimidated by the likes of the man standing in front of her. However, she wished that would somehow extend to her attraction to him.
She momentarily broke eye contact with him by glancing down at the doormat beneath her feet. It was either do that or risk a heart rate and blood pressure increase. His sexual magnetism should be outlawed. She met his eyes again when she felt better in control of her senses. “Maybe I should introduce myself,” she said in a calmer, less defensive voice.
“Don’t bother.”
“I honestly think that I should bother under the circumstances. If for no other reason than to prove I am not a reporter,” she said, opening her cross-body purse and pulling out her business card. Just in case he assumed it was a phony business card, she also took out her driver’s license. She handed both to him, but for a minute, she thought he wouldn’t take them.
Then he did.