Clint holding up?” Lynn liked Clint. The hard-working cattleman sometimes looked at a loss for the things his wife came up with, but there was always a glowing admiration and love in his eyes…even though she’d seen a time or two when he was exasperated. Lacy tended to do that to people though. She got so caught up in what she envisioned for couples that she often acted before thinking things through. Despite that, he loved her…or actually, from what Lynn observed, he loved her because of it. Lynn wouldn’t know what that was like. In her marriage she’d learned, slowly, not to voice her opinion, much less make an impulsive move. It had happened over time, practically sneaking up on her. The mental abuse started long before the beatings had occurred.
“Lynn, so you aren’t going to bid?”
Lacy’s words pelted through the fog of memory like buckshot. “No. I’m not.” She braced herself for Lacy to jump on the bandwagon.
“Too bad. I’ve been praying God would lead the right man to town for you and your boys.” Lacy rubbed her extended belly and took a long breath.
“Lacy, you look really tired,” Lynn said, concerned.
“Why don’t you call it a night?” Norma Sue called out. “You’re standing on your feet too much.”
Lacy gave a smile—not her normally exuberant one but a smile nonetheless. “You’ve been talking to Sheri! I sit down when I need to—”
“Ha!” Sheri exclaimed from her perch on a ladder across the room. She cocked her spiky brown head to the side and looked down from where she’d been tacking up red-and-blue bandanna decorations. “You lie, Lacy Matlock! You don’t sit down nearly as much as you should. If it were up to me I’d hog-tie you to a couch and make you stay there till our baby comes.”
Lacy laughed. “Okay, okay, I get it. I’ve promised Clint that I’m going to start taking it easy so y’all relax and let me talk to Lynn.” Lacy’s eyes twinkled like they usually did when she was inspired. “You should bid on Chance. If not for yourself then for him. The man could use some distraction, I think. And you and your sweet boys might just be what the doc upstairs has in mind for him.”
Inwardly Lynn groaned as all eyes returned to her. Lacy, the sneak, was trying to turn the tables on her. “I’m not bidding on Chance or anyone else…”
Chance pulled into a parking space in front of Sam’s Diner and got out of the truck. There was no way he could come home and not drop by for breakfast at Sam’s. His cousins’ trucks were lined up along the plank sidewalk and he knew he was running late. Hurrying, he pushed open the diner’s heavy swinging door to find Lynn Perry standing on the other side. She was carrying a stack of carryout boxes and coffee in a paper cup. When she saw him she stopped in her tracks.
For a little while the day before, he’d rolled over their meeting in his head, and for the life of him he couldn’t stop thinking about her. There was something about her that had edged under his collar and wouldn’t let go. She was pretty, with her dark hair and shimmering midnight eyes, but he’d sensed a tough girl underneath her soft image. A tough girl determined to make it for herself and her boys. He liked that.
But she had a keep-your-distance wall erected around her and it was firmly in place right now, even though she was smiling at him.
He tipped his hat and gave her his best smile. “How are you this morning?”
“Great. How are you? I hope you didn’t have any lingering aches and pains from yesterday. The boys really didn’t mean to lay you out like that.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I’ve been thrown from horses and bulls that make being taken out by two pint-sized four-year-olds a piece of cake.”
She flinched prettily. “It still had to hurt, but I’m glad to see you aren’t limping.”
“Like I said before, only my pride was hurt.”
“Yes, well, that’s good—I mean it’s good that’s all that was hurt.”
She sidestepped him to go out the door. “Here, let me,” he said, pressing his back to the swinging door and opening it. She edged past him and he got the sweet scent of chocolate as she passed. He couldn’t help but lean her way—just his luck, she turned and caught him. “You, ahhh—” What? “You smell good. Is that choc o late?” Slick, Turner. Way to stick a boot in your mouth.
She colored rose-pink and he could tell he’d flustered her. He’d flustered himself! He could flirt with the best of them but it had been a while since he’d done it. He was about as rusty as a bucket of wet nails.
“I’ve been mixing chocolate bars since seven.”
“Sweet. I mean, sweet job.”
He figured she was probably ready to toss her coffee on him but she chuckled instead and walked off without another word. She probably thought he was a lost cause. Come to think of it, maybe he was. He watched her cross the street and push open the door to the candy store.
“You jest gonna stand thar and stare all day or ya gonna come in and have a bite to eat?”
He should have known Applegate Thornton would be sitting at his usual seat by the window. The old coot’s booming voice probably could be heard across the street at the candy store. But at least it had Chance moving back inside and not standing halfway out on the side walk.
Ignoring the laughter from the table in the center of the room where his cousins were sitting, he strode to the window table to see App and his buddy Stanley Orr. “It’s good to see you two are still holding down the fort. How’s it going?”
Applegate grinned. “We ain’t doin’ nearly as good as you, son. Lynn was lookin’ mighty sweet at you. Stanley, you ever seen Lynn lookin’ at anybody like that?”
Stanley was slightly balding, plump and about the easiest-going man Chance had ever been around. “Nope, can’t say I have. You got a ticket to the steak dinner tomorrow night?”
“Yes, he has a ticket,” Cole called from the table where he, Wyatt and Seth were watching Chance like hawks.
“I didn’t buy a ticket.”
“The ranch bought it for you,” Seth said.
He took the fourth cane-backed chair at the table and sank into it. “I don’t remember saying I wanted to at tend a steak dinner.”
“It’s for a good cause,” Seth said, taking a drink of his coffee, just as Sam, the owner of the diner, came striding toward their table with coffeepot in hand.
Small and wiry, with a quick step, Sam gave a hearty smile. “It’s good ta see ya, son!” He set a coffee mug in front of Chance then shook his hand fiercely. “I was sure sorry ta hear about that bull rider. A cry’n shame is what that was.” Shaking his head he poured coffee into the mug.
Chance wrapped his hands around the warm cup and felt the stab of deep regret. “Yeah, it was.” All eyes were on him right now. He didn’t want to discuss this.
“All you could be was there fer them if they needed you.”
Chance met Sam’s wise, gray eyes.
