miserable man who spent your whole life making me miserable.”
“Chance?”
He whirled around at the low, female voice, angry at the intrusion.
He relaxed a bit as he saw Lana Ramirez approach, her long black skirt fluttering around her ankles as the early autumn breeze played with the material.
“Are you all right?” she asked as she reached where he stood on the edge of the old family cemetery.
Although Chance and Lana had seen each other on the day he’d arrived back into town, that moment had been brief and Chance had immediately had to deal with funeral arrangements for his father.
“Sure, I’m fine.” He willed away any lingering emotion that had momentarily gripped him. There was no way he’d show anyone the feelings that had possessed him since coming back to this ranch.
She moved closer, near enough that he caught the scent of her, a wild floral fragrance that stirred old memories. She’d worn that particular perfume years ago, when he’d first met her at the Colton ranch, where Chance had lived for a year when he’d been sixteen and Lana had been thirteen.
Someplace in the back of his mind he registered that she had grown up to be a lovely woman. Her Mexican heritage was evident in the raven-black of her hair and the darkness of her eyes. It was a quiet, understated beauty she didn’t try to emphasize with an abundance of makeup.
Chance once again focused on the mound of dirt before them. “How did you put up with him?” he asked, then looked at her again.
Her full lips curved just a bit into a half smile. “I’m a nurse, Chance. I’m accustomed to dealing with difficult patients.”
“If I know my father, he was worse than difficult.”
She nodded, not denying his words. “Yes, there were days he was worse than difficult, but most of the time he was too ill to be much of a bother to anyone.” She placed a slender hand on his arm. “I heard about the will.”
He looked at her in surprise. He’d only learned about the terms of his father’s will no more than half an hour ago. It was what had driven him out of the house and here, to his father’s side to curse the man who had given him life.
“Walter Bishop might be a fine lawyer, but he sometimes talks too much,” she said, referring to the man who had been one of Tom Reilly’s few friends and the family lawyer. “But don’t worry,” she hurriedly added. “As far as I know, he only talked to me. He assumed I already knew what Tom had done in the will.”
“I didn’t want this place anyway,” Chance said, anger welling up once again as he recognized the partial lie in his own words. “Hell, it would take months of work to repair everything and get it back into good shape.”
He hadn’t wanted to live on the ranch ever again. Too many bad memories resided here. But he’d assumed he’d inherit the ranch, then fix it up and sell it and finally start a business of his own.
Lana dropped her hand from his arm. “But your father’s will doesn’t preclude you from inheriting it.”
“According to the will, I have to be married in order to inherit. Here’s a news flash for you, Lana— I’m not married. I never intend to be married, so it looks like this place will go to charity instead of to me.”
He swept a hand through his hair and drew a deep breath. “What about you? What are you going to do now that my father is gone?”
“I need to pack up some things that are still here, then I’ll go back to my apartment in town and wait for another job.”
Lana had been living on the Reilly ranch for the past six months, ever since Tom suffered the first of a series of strokes. “If you need references, you know I’ll be glad to write you up something,” he said.
She nodded and he noticed a strand of her thick, black hair had escaped from the bun at the nape of her neck. It looked silky soft as it blew across the side of her face. “What are you going to do now?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Go back to the life I’ve been living.” Before this moment, he thought he loved his life.
Selling farm equipment around the country, he traveled most of the time, never calling any one place home. He’d become adept at finding the best food, the nicest rooms in the small towns he traveled to, and never had a problem finding a warm, willing woman for a night’s pleasure.
At the moment he felt nothing but weariness as he thought of going back to that particular lifestyle. “How’s your family?” he asked, stalling the moment he’d have to return to the house and all the memories that resided within those four walls. “It was nice of your parents to come today. Are they still working for the Coltons?”
“Yes, I can’t imagine them doing anything else. Mama and Dad love the Colton family.” A tiny frown appeared in the center of her forehead.
“But…?”
She shook her head as if to dismiss whatever thought had caused the wrinkle to appear. “Maya got married. She married Drake Colton.”
“Really?” The news surprised Chance.
“Yes, and they have a beautiful six-month-old baby girl.”
“So that makes you an aunt,” he said.
“Yes, it does.” She smiled, as if being an aunt pleased her immensely.
The mention of marriage once again stirred his anger. He turned toward the house. “Guess I’d better get back inside.” He took several steps, but paused as she once again placed a hand on his arm.
“Wait,” she said. He turned and faced her expectantly, surprised to see a faint blush of color on her cheeks. “Your father’s will…it just says you have to be married to inherit. It doesn’t say anything about you having to stay married, right?”
“Yeah, so all I need is a temporary wife. You know anyone who might want to apply for the job?” he asked sarcastically.
The pink of her cheeks deepened. “Me.”
Surprise swept through him and he stared at her wordlessly for a long moment. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he finally scoffed and started to walk again.
She quickly fell in beside him, her long legs almost matching his stride. “Why is it ridiculous?” she asked. “This ranch should be yours, Chance. I’ll do it, I’ll be your temporary wife so you can inherit.”
He stopped walking and turned to her once again, utterly bewildered by her offer. “And why would you do something like that? What do you get out of the bargain?”
Maybe she figured to marry him then when he sold the ranch she’d get half the profit, he thought. What other possible reason could she have for suggesting such a crazy scheme?
She drew a deep breath and he was suddenly aware of the press of her shapely breasts against the silk material of her white blouse. “A baby.”
“A baby?” he echoed with shock. “My God, Lana, if that’s what you want,
