Chapter Three
Chapter Three
C hance glared at the woman who, like yesterday, was gorgeous. And like yesterday, he couldn’t help but home in on everything about her, especially the way her wind-blown hair gave her a sexy appeal and how good she looked in a pair of jeans and a yellow shirt. Yes, she was a beauty. And why was her scent more arousing than yesterday?
It was hard to believe their paths had crossed again. He would never have thought that would occur in a million years. Now she was here, on his property, invading his space, and he didn’t like it.
Forcing his gaze off her, he studied the business card.
ZOEY MICHELLE PRITCHARD
Orthopedic Surgeon
Johns Hopkins Hospital
(410) 111-1112 (bus.)
(410) 100-1001 (mobile)
Chance blinked several times at the card containing both her business and mobile phone numbers before switching his gaze to her driver’s license. There was no doubt she was the same woman in the photo. She was twenty-eight? She didn’t look it. Yesterday, he’d thought she was no older than twenty-four. All he had to say was that she wore her age well.
He glanced back at her. She wasn’t smiling, but those gorgeous dimples were showing nonetheless, making something rock all through him.
“You’re a medical doctor?” he asked, surprised.
She lifted her chin, and he saw a hint of fire flash in the depths of those gorgeous brown eyes. “Yes.”
“An orthopedic surgeon?”
“That’s what my business card says, doesn’t it?”
Chance lifted a brow at her smart response. Apparently, it didn’t take much to get her hackles raised. She had a backbone and a part of him liked it. In fact, he liked a lot more than her attitude, he thought, staring at her. His gaze seemed drawn to her like a magnet. Because of his injuries from being in combat, he’d seen numerous orthopedic surgeons in his day, but none were gorgeous like her. Her first name was Zoey. He didn’t know another Zoey, but for some reason, he thought the name suited her.
He returned both her driver’s license and business card. Okay, she wasn’t who he thought she was, but still…
“Why are you here, Doctor Pritchard? You’re a long way from Baltimore. The only doctors in these parts who make house calls are veterinarians.”
For a minute, Chance saw the semblance of a smile appear with those dimples, and then she frowned again. “Like I said earlier, I’d like to ask a few questions.”
Now he was back to crossing his arms over his chest. “Why? Doctors don’t normally go around knocking on doors asking questions,” he said, his words laced with sarcasm.
He saw the flash of fire in her eyes again. Why did seeing it do things to him? Like making him want to see more fire within her. The kind that naked bodies rolling between sheets could ignite. “There is a reason for me doing so, and I would like to explain it to the ranch owners if I may,” she said while glaring at him.
It was on the tip of his tongue to say, no, she may not. He wasn’t sociable and rarely got visitors unless they were family members. Some considered him the unfriendly Madaris, and for that reason, most people kept their distance.
Chance studied her again and had to admit she had him curious.
He then recalled what she’d said about wanting to talk to the ranch owners. Well, he had news for her. “I am the owner.”
She seemed surprised. “You are?”
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
Okay, he’d deliberately given her a smart-ass response like she’d done to him earlier. Although she tried not to, her lips twitched at the corners in a smile again, and he thought her dimples would be the death of him. He wished he could kiss them right off her face. Of course, such a thing wasn’t possible, but he would love to try anyway.
He dropped his hands by his sides, not liking how his thoughts were going. His resolve had never been weakened by an intense attraction to a woman, and he was determined it wouldn’t do so now. “Okay, I’ll give you five minutes, Doctor Pritchard, and that’s all. This is a working ranch, and I’m busy.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Chance moved aside, and she entered. He watched her scan his living room intently and wondered why. Although his home was neat and clean, he couldn’t see her wanting any decorating ideas.
He was about to tell her she was down to four minutes when he suddenly saw her sway on her feet like she was about to faint. Rushing to her, he ignored the flash of desire he felt the moment he wrapped his arms around her waist to lead her to the sofa. “Are you alright?”
When she didn’t answer quickly enough to suit him, he called out frantically. “Ms. Cate, come quick.”
His housekeeper rushed into the room. “What’s wrong, Chancellor?”
“She almost fainted,” he said, easing Zoey down into a sitting position on the sofa.
Cate nearly knocked him out of the way when she reached them. “Miss, are you alright?”
“I felt lightheaded for a second.”
Cate nodded and said, “I’ll get you a glass of sweet tea.” And then she was gone, rushing into the kitchen.
Chance watched Dr. Pritchard and saw how she continued to look around the room as if in a daze. What in the world was wrong with her? He was about to ask when Cate reappeared with the glass of tea and handed it to her. The woman took a large sip, smiled up at Cate and then said in a soft voice, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Miss…” Cate gazed at Chance for a name. He shrugged and said, “She’s Dr. Pritchard.”
“Oh,” his housekeeper said. Turning back to Zoey, Cate said. “You’re welcome, Doctor Pritchard. That sweet tea should relieve the dizziness. I know it happens sometimes.”
Chance rolled his eyes as Cate left the room. Knowing Ms. Cate, she probably assumed the woman was a veterinarian. There was no other reason for a doctor to make house calls in the area. And she probably thought the woman had gotten dizzy because of him. Cate would often tease him and his male cousins and say that a Madaris man was known to make women swoon since the beginning of time.
Chance eased down in the chair across from her. He figured it would be rude at this point to let her know she didn’t have any more minutes left. Due to what just happened, he would display some degree of empathy.
After she’d taken another sip of her tea and after giving her another few minutes to pull herself together, he felt she had been in his home long enough. “What was it that you wanted to explain, Doctor Pritchard?”
***
Zoey took another sip of her tea and studied the man who had yet to introduce himself. However, she did recall the lady who’d come into the room had called him Chancellor.
“That was kind of her to bring me a glass of sweet tea.”
He said nothing as he extended his long legs out before him without responding to what she’d said. When the silence stretched between them, she then said, “She called you Chancellor.”
“That’s my name.” He’d said the words through clenched teeth. It didn’t take much to get him testy, she thought.
She was about to give him a smart comeback and inquire if he didn’t have a last name as well when he said, “Doctor Pritchard, I don’t have the time to—”
“Zoey,” she interrupted. “Please call me Zoey, and I hope I can call you Chancellor.”
He didn’t say if she could or not. Instead, he said, “I am busy and don’t have much time. You were going to explain why you are here.”
Yes, she was. He had let her inside his home, and she’d almost fainted in the middle of the floor, so she owed him that much. Besides, she needed to be honest if she wanted to see more of the house and land. The moment she’d entered his home and looked around, she knew. She wasn’t sure how long he’d lived here, but he had retained some of the original furniture. She could see why. The oak furnishings added warmth to the huge living room.
Drawing in a deep breath, Zoey said, “It’s about this house. I might have spent a lot of time here growing up.”
“Don’t you know if you did?” he asked, frowning.
She shook her head. “I don’t. I have very little memory of my life before I was eight.” What she should have said was that she had no memory of it.
Now he appeared perplexed, so she quickly added, “I think I need to start from the beginning.”
She began telling him her story, starting with the accident that killed her parents, with her being the lone survivor and the loss of her memory. She watched his eyes go from disbelief to amazement and then to acceptance that she was telling the truth. She felt relief when she’d detected the latter.
“To this day, the doctors don’t know how I survived with so many broken bones.” She paused, remembering that time. At least her aunt Paulina had made sure she got the best medical care. She’d always been grateful for that.
“For almost a year after the accident, I couldn’t walk and I wore braces on both my legs until I was eleven.” She paused a minute and then added, “The physical therapy I endured to learn to walk again was painful.”
He nodded as if he understood. There was no way that he could. Someone who’d never experienced anything like it really couldn’t. That was the only part of her childhood she remembered. Specifically, what she’d gone through medically to have as much of a normal life as she could.
“Is that why you chose to become an orthopedic surgeon? To help others the way your doctors helped you?” he asked her. She’d noticed his tone had lost some of its frostiness.
“That’s part of the reason. The main reason was that both my parents had been orthopedic surgeons. They worked at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston, and I wanted to follow in their footsteps.”
“You remember them working there?”
Zoey shook her head. “No. I have no memory of my childhood before that accident.”
He lifted a brow. “None?”
“None.”
“But how do you know about this place?” he asked, seemingly confused. “Earlier, you said that you thought you’d spent time here. That would have been before the accident, right?”
“Yes.” She took another sip of her tea and said, “A little over a year ago, I began having dreams, which were always about the same thing. My parents and I are spending time on a ranch.”
Zoey couldn’t help the smile that spread across her lips. “I recall there were cows, horses, and the big red barn they were kept in. Other dreams were about picnics we had near a lake on the ranch.”
When he didn’t confirm whether there was a lake on his property, she pressed on by saying. “There are some nights the dreams appear so vivid and real. Then there are other times when they are like several snapshots focusing only on certain things at the ranch.”
He was staring at her with an intense look on his face, one filled with questions, but obviously, he was willing to let her tell her story. She was grateful for that.
“I told my aunt, who raised me after my parents’ deaths, about my dreams. I was hoping it was a sign my memory was returning. However, she insisted that my parents never owned or visited a ranch. That left me assuming my mind was just coming up with dreams of my own making. Wishful dreams, you might say.”
He nodded. “But that wasn’t the case?”
“No, that was not the case.” She figured by now he detected the anger in her voice that was at odds with the smile plastered on her lips. “A month ago, my aunt died of a heart attack. Then, while going through her belongings, I found a bill of sale. My mother had inherited a ranch house from her parents—this must have been before she married since the deed was in her maiden name. The date on the sales document indicated my aunt sold the ranch less than a year after I went to live with her, which had to be around twenty years ago.”
He didn’t say anything, and neither did she. She was letting him draw his conclusions about what she’d said. It didn’t take long before he stated them out loud. “That means your aunt lied about your parents owning a ranch. Why?”
She shrugged. “I have no idea.” And she honestly didn’t.
At first, she’d thought her aunt might have needed the money for Zoey’s medical care, which must have been expensive. However, Zoey had discovered that wasn’t the case when she’d visited her aunt’s attorney a week before she’d left for Boston.
Jed Thornsley had been her aunt’s attorney for years. He’d given Zoey papers to a bank account her aunt left for her that represented the proceeds from the sale of her parents’ Boston home. There was also a trust her parents had established for her to receive on her thirtieth birthday. Over the years, both had accumulated an extremely high amount of interest.
Mr. Thornsley knew nothing about the sale of a ranch house in Texas. When she’d shown him the documents, he’d seemed as baffled as she’d been. When she’d suggested that perhaps her aunt had sold the ranch to help pay Zoey’s medical bills, the older man assured her that was not the case. He stated that all her medical care had been taken care of by her parents’ life insurance proceeds, along with a medical policy her parents had on her.
It surprised Zoey that her aunt hadn’t used any of her funds. Although Aunt Paulina never said or insinuated that she had, Zoey always assumed she did, and that was the reason Zoey had felt indebted to her aunt all those years and had never made waves about anything.
“Am I to assume this is the house?” Chancellor asked, breaking into her thoughts.
“Yes. It’s the same address. Although that huge oak tree has never appeared in my dreams, something about it is familiar. The same thing with the swing on the porch. I doubted my parents lived here permanently since they worked and lived in Boston, but I imagined they came back here often to see my mother’s family.”
She drank the last of her tea and then said, “I felt lightheaded after entering your home because of this room. Some of the same furniture was in my dreams.”
He said nothing momentarily, then noted, “I bought the house already furnished except for new bedroom furniture for the master suite and appliances I had upgraded. The furniture was in good shape, and I saw no reason to replace it. The people who sold me the house felt the same way.”
He then asked, “What was your grandparents’ surname? The ones you believe left this house to your mother?”
“They were the Martins. I don’t remember their first names. The only reason I know that much is because my mother’s maiden name was Martin.”
“And your aunt never told you anything about your maternal history?”
Zoey paused a moment before answering. “No. She refused to tell me anything about my mother’s family. They’re deceased since Aunt Paulina was my only living relative.”
He became quiet, and she figured he was drawing his conclusions about what she wasn’t saying, and he was probably right in his assumptions. Time passed for a minute or two, and then he said, “I bought this property a few years ago from Henry and Rosalie Johnstone. I understand they had lived here for close to fifteen years. Did that bill of sale state who your aunt sold the property to?”
She shook her head. “It didn’t show a name—just a bank. The Houston National Bank,” she said.
“That would mean it was a private sale. That’s not unusual around these parts. It keeps developers from hounding you about selling your property.”
She nodded. “Did you know the Johnstones?”
“No. I never met them. I understand they were an older couple. I can only assume that caring for this spread became too much for them. They moved out months before I bought the place.”
She nodded again. “So, as you can see, Chancellor, this entire thing is a big mystery to me. I am not questioning the legitimacy of the sale of the house to you or anyone. The only reason I’m here is that I’m hoping that perhaps I’ll see something that will stimulate my memory. Do you know anyone I can speak with, who has lived in this area a long time and might have known my grandparents?”
He hesitated for a moment, and then he said, “Yes, there is someone. My great-grandmother. Our family spread, Whispering Pines, is less than thirty minutes from here and has been in our family for generations. Mama Laverne is in her nineties, but her memory is as sharp as a tack.”
“Do you think she’d be willing to talk to me?”
“I don’t see why not. Not today, though, since I don’t know where she is. She travels around quite a bit.”
“In her nineties?”
His lips twitched as if amused, and although it had been rather quick, seeing it had her pulse racing. “Yes. To my great-grandmother, age is nothing but a number. Give me that business card of yours again. I’ll contact you when a conversation can be arranged. How long will you be in the area?”
“For however long it takes to piece together my memory. I don’t have to return to the hospital I work at until September; I have the entire summer free. I plan to use that time to learn as much about my maternal family as possible.”
She took the business card from her purse and presented it to him again. “I would love to speak with your great-grandmother. Here is my business card,” she said, giving back the card he’d returned earlier.
It didn’t go unnoticed by Zoey that, although he now had her contact information, she didn’t have his. He hadn’t offered it to her. For all she knew, he might have a jealous girlfriend or something.
He slid her business card in the pocket of his shirt before standing. “Now, I’ll show you to the door.”
“You want me to leave?”
A scowl appeared on his face. “Any reason you think you should stay?”
“I was hoping I could look around.”
He seemed taken aback by her words, and his tone was rather frosty when he said, “I won’t have time to give you a tour, Zoey. Neither will Ms. Cate.”
In other words, he was letting her know that although he might believe her story, he had no intentions of letting her roam through his house alone. “I don’t recall asking you to do so, Chancellor.”
“Then what are you asking?”
He was glaring, so she glared back, refusing to let him intimidate her. “I understand that neither you nor your housekeeper have the time to give me a tour of your home. However, I would appreciate it if you allowed me to look outside. I promise not to get in your way, and I will be gone before you know it.”
He stared at her, and although his eyes hadn’t moved beyond her face, she felt the intensity of his gaze on every part of her body. She thought he would deny her request, but then, in that same frosty tone, he said, “Fine. Follow me.”