Chance blinked, as if just recalling and his gaze drifted off in the distance. “How did you know?”
“Grandpa always posted you a letter for your birthday.”
Chance gazed down at the package he held. “He did at that.”
“Would you like to open it?”
“Let me go get my shirt and—”
She set a stopping hand on his upper arm. “No, no. Don’t get your shirt,” she said.
His gaze traveled to her hand. Lizzie, too, focused on the thick cord of muscle underneath her fingertips. A forceful jolt flowed through her slight frame, making her dizzy. Her heart was working hard not to pound straight out of her chest.
“J-just go on and open it. I’m…I’m anxious to see what you think.” Her hand fell from his arm.
His eyes narrowed at her request before he nodded. She watched as he untied the string and pulled out the indigo three-button shirt she’d been working on for two full nights. He stared at the garment in his hand. “You made this?”
“Yes.”
He held it up to the light to admire her work. “It’s nice. Real nice,” he said and from the sincere tone of his voice, she believed him.
Carefully, he pulled it on over his head. Lizzie watched him fit his powerful arms through the sleeves and tuck the lower end of the material into his trousers. He straightened his shoulders and the fabric stretched across his chest.
“It fits.” Lizzie couldn’t contain her smile. She was immensely pleased.
“It does,” he said. He ran his hands up and down the front of the shirt. “Feels real good, too. Thank you, Lizzie,” he said and stepped closer, taking her face in the palms of his hands. With the slightest pressure he lifted her face to meet his eyes. “Means a lot.” With the gentlest touch, he brushed a kiss to her mouth.
The touch of his lips on hers stunned her so, she backed away from the sheer wondrous shock. She’d dreamed about him kissing her again. Dreamed of him touching her and making those sweet hot swirls in her belly turn into a full-out twister.
Instantly, she closed the gap between their bodies to circle her arms around his neck. She lifted her eyes to his. “Happy birthday, Chance.”
She brought her mouth closer and gave him a true kiss, one filled with every single heartaching emotion she felt for him. A kiss that eased the pain of her recent loneliness and told him without a doubt that he was someone special in her life.
She’d been fighting it for too long. Maybe because he’d never given her a reason to believe he’d ever want a woman like her and maybe because she’d been unsure of what she’d really been feeling. But now, without any doubt, Lizzie knew in the pit of her stomach and from the very depth of her spirit, that she loved Chance Worth.
She loved him so much, she nearly burst with joy. She poured everything she had inside into her kiss. Oh, how she’d missed being near him and breathing in his scent, tasting from his mouth and feeling his body harden with need.
Heat and moisture pooled between her legs. She relished the sensation, no longer afraid of what she was feeling. No longer timid about the changes her body went through when she was with Chance.
His tongue stroked hers now. She couldn’t name the exact moment when Chance took over the kiss, but she fell into it and let him take the lead. Chance grabbed her around the waist and drew her smack up against him. Their hips met and she felt the extent of his desire against her thighs, the pressing of his manhood a thrill that shut down her mind to all rational thought.
* * *
Chance breathed heavily against her mouth, the temptation that constantly surprised him hard to contain. His voice rasped over her lips. “I could take you right now.”
Hope registered on Lizzie’s face, an expression that any man would take pride in noting on a woman he was ready to seduce.
Except that Chance couldn’t seduce Lizzie. He’d regretted the words the second he’d uttered them. He spoke aloud what he’d been thinking and that had always gotten him into trouble. Truth was, he longed for Lizzie in the worst possible way. He was keenly aware of her, every minute of every day and he’d been doing his darnedest to keep his distance from her.
Edward Mitchell would approve of Hayden Finch for his granddaughter. Lizzie and her friend were becoming close again. It was the way it should be. Hayden was smitten with Lizzie. He was the better choice…the only choice for her. Clearly, he could provide for Lizzie and give her a secure life with no worries or struggles.
But lately, none of that seemed to matter to him. He’d come to admire Lizzie’s unflinching spirit. When he fully expected her to wallow in grief, she’d shown strength and put all her efforts into building the ranch again. Her days were filled with hard work and during the nights, her lamps were lit into the late hours as she created her dolls. He’d seen her at her best and at her worst. Lord knew, she was surly and disagreeable at times, but now as he gazed into her beautiful eyes shadowed with lust, Chance couldn’t talk himself out of wanting her.
He couldn’t talk himself out of the fierce emotions roiling around in his gut, either. Though she acted contrary and annoyed him almost daily, he couldn’t deny that she was sweet in her own way. She’d remembered his birthday, something Chance was happy to forget. His birth didn’t amount to a hill of beans, except to Lizzie.
Her gift touched something deep and solemn inside.
He wouldn’t steal her innocence.
She deserved better than that. Better than him.
The realization dawned on him, that he wasn’t making this sacrifice for Edward’s sake anymore. He was doing this for Lizzie. Because he truly cared about her.
With deep regret, he unlocked his hold on her and stepped back. “Forget I said anything.”
Lizzie stood frozen, as if she was still in his embrace. Her eyes opened and a look of utter befuddlement dawned on her face. She blinked several times, comprehending what had just happened. Then she shivered in disbelief.
He expected her to rant and give him a good chewing out, but she only stood there, with her chin up, her head held high to look past him toward the lake waters. The lips that gave to him so generously a moment ago were pinched tight but her words slipped out quietly despite the firm lock. “There’s a barn dance at Petey Donavan’s ranch in two weeks. It’s ladies’ choice.”
Her head moved the inch it took to face him directly. Sad blue eyes beseeched him with the slightest flicker. He knew what she was asking. Knew what she wanted to hear. He’d already injured Lizzie enough for ten lifetimes. A shudder ran through him, knowing in his gut that his next words would seal his fate forever. This time though, she would never forgive him. “Ask Hayden.”
Her eyes shone with accusation and Chance died a little bit inside. He’d never intended to cause her such pain or make those pretty eyes turn hard with hurt.
She nodded with little quick bobs of her head that told him she’d expected no less.
She’d expected him to disappoint her.
The notion was like a knife gutting him.
She turned from him, her skirts swishing against the ground as she left the clearing by the lake and marched off.
“Wait, Lizzie!”
But she didn’t wait. She kept on going and Chance could only let her go, because he had nothing to say that would make her happy.
“Damn it,” he muttered, staring at her retreating form until she was out of sight.
His body ached in need of her.
He glanced at the lake and the glistening waters that beckoned him. Within seconds, he’d chucked his clothes and took the long strides to find his way back into the water. Once he was chest deep, he dove under, hoping to ease the lust of his body and wash away the pain surrounding his heart.
He wasn’t sure the dunking would do much good.
The hell of it was, he wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
Chapter Fourteen
L
izzie hadn’t had a female influence in her life for a long time. She didn’t have the benefit of motherly advice. As a result, she’d managed to do things her own way, whether it was proper or not and without too much thought if her way was acceptable. She’d had no choice in the matter and often she’d wonder what it would be like to have her mama here to primp her, help her dress and fuss over her hair for a barn dance that Lizzie wasn’t even sure she wanted to attend.
She had procrastinated in asking Hayden to the dance. Her heart simply wasn’t in it, but Mrs. Finch told her flat-out, he was looking forward to going with her. He’d made polite excuses to Haddie Jones and Abigail Westhaven while waiting for Lizzie’s invitation. She’d felt obligated after hearing that. She wouldn’t disappoint Hayden for the world, though he’d been giving her long looks that made her feel a bit uncomfortable lately. Sometimes, he’d put a hand on her arm, or brush his fingers over hers. As hard as it was for her to believe, Hayden might be interested in her as a woman. But she wouldn’t dwell on that at the moment. She’d had enough perplexing thoughts, thinking about Chance these past few weeks.
If she was excited about one thing regarding the barn dance, it was that she’d be wearing a new dress.
It was the first gown she’d ever made for herself. She’d chosen a striking blue material made of imported silk that glimmered under the light. She’d put delicate lace around the sleeves and made several tucks under a bodice that pushed her small breasts up, giving her a womanly shape. At the waist, the gown flared out in folds that reached the ground. She wore no jewels, because she had none, but the rivulets of curls that fell onto her shoulders and caressed her upper chest added the adornment she’d needed.
“Goodness, Lizzie,” she said, taking a final look at her reflection in the bedroom mirror. She barely recognized herself.
She heard rustling outside, so she left her room to peer out the parlor window. Hayden’s two-seater buggy was hitched to the post in front of the house. It was just like Hayden to be early. He’d been so eager about this dance; he’d gone on and on about it when she was with him.
She took a deep breath and made a vow to have fun today. She hadn’t danced in years, but Hayden knew how and he’d promised to teach her.
She opened the door and found Hayden there, smiling, holding a batch of soft pink lilies in one hand. His gaze flowed over her with admiration. “You’re…you’re.” He took a swallow and began again. “Lizzie, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so beautiful.”
Lizzie flashed a true and genuine smile, happy to receive a compliment. “I’m glad you like the dress. I’ve been working on it after supper all week long.”
“I do,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “But it’s not the dress, Lizzie. It’s the woman wearing it.”
“Thank you, Hayden. I don’t know what I’d do without your kind words.” He was truly a blessing in her life.
“You’ll never have a need to find out.” Then he remembered the flowers. “These are for you. For the drive over to the Donavans’.”
He handed her the flowers and she put them to her nose. A slightly sweet scent wafted up her nostrils. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Hayden. And I must say, you look very handsome today.”
He wore a tan vest underneath a dark suit that fit his frame perfectly. He looked worldly, dressed much like Governor Tritle, who’d once visited Red Ridge on his way to an inaugural ceremony in Phoenix. Sometimes when Lizzie looked at Hayden now, she had to remind herself of the boy he’d once been, who’d tug at her braids and cackle with laughter, then run away so she would chase him.
“Are you ready to go?” There was boyish eagerness in his eyes.
“Yes.”
With a sweep of his hand, he gestured for her to walk out first, then he reached back to close the door. They’d made it to the buggy when Lizzie remembered something. “Hayden, I almost forgot. There’s one hook at the back I couldn’t reach. I swear I was a fool to sew it in.” She tilted her head to the side, giving him access to her exposed shoulders. “Could you? It’s the top one.”
He blinked his eyes and hesitated. Lizzie wondered if she’d embarrassed him by asking the favor. “If you don’t want to, maybe I can ask—”
“No, Lizzie,” he said, his voice a bit shaky. “I’d be happy to.”
He walked behind her and fumbled a bit with the material.
Chance turned the corner of the barn then, coming forward with a stack of fresh-cut wood in his arms. Immediately, he took note of the buggy. And when he spotted her with Hayden standing close behind, fiddling with her dress, he stopped dead in his tracks. His mouth dropped open.
His gaze traveled over the full length of her, from her upswept hair to the very hem of her fancy gown, but he did a double take at the heart-shaped bodice. Her chest swelled from the unabashed blaze in his eyes.
Hot tremors ricocheted through her body. Her breath caught, causing a little gasp to escape.
“Sorry, Lizzie. My hands are clumsy,” Hayden said, mistaking the sound she made as impatience.
“It’s okay,” she said quietly, watching Chance.
With a flick of his eyes, Chance turned his attention to Hayden. The look he shot him was so fierce, so hard, that Lizzie shivered noticeably, yet Hayden was unaware of his presence.
“There, finally got it,” he said triumphantly, giving her shoulders a little pat.
By the time Hayden lifted his head, Chance had already turned away, dumping the logs into the wood pile and striding off.
Lizzie was completely shaken. Chance had wanted this. He’d been hard-nosed and stubborn, hurting her pride for the very last time. He’d told her to ask Hayden to the dance. But judging from the look on Chance’s face and the glint of steel in his eyes, he seemed to want anything but. Lizzie had never been the object of a man’s jealousy before. But Chance had no one to blame but himself. He’d been pushing her away, denying her any credence, since the day they’d met.
“Are you ready?” Hayden asked, coming to stand in front of her.
She nodded. “Yes, I’m ready. I can’t wait to dance until my feet ache.”
He grinned wide and helped her up onto the buggy. “I think I can surely oblige.”
Lizzie tamped down her ill ease and smiled at her best friend. If anyone could make her forget her heartache, it was Hayden Finch.
* * *
Chance chopped wood.
He chopped wood until his arms ached, his shoulders went stiff and his mouth became parched. Then he chopped wood some more. A tick worked at his jaw with each blow of the ax, with each damn splintering of lumber.
No matter the strain to his muscles or the pain to his back, the vision of Lizzie looking beautiful in that silky gown refused to be forced away. The notion that he couldn’t dismiss her any longer plagued him until he thought he’d go crazy.
After an hour, he ceased his chopping and leaned heavily on the ax handle. He’d been thunderstruck seeing Hayden’s hands on Lizzie today, seeing the way he touched her as he fixed her dress.
His mouth twisted in disgust.
He’d never been jealous of a man in his life.
Chance put down the ax and sat on a haystack. He reached for the bottle of whiskey he’d brought from the bunkhouse, stretched his legs and leaned back so that his head rested against the barn wall. It wasn’t too dang comfortable, but in a few minutes, he wouldn’t know the difference.
He wasn’t going to chop any more firewood or mend another broken-down fence. He wasn’t going to muck the horse stalls or pitch another bale of hay. Nope, his workday was officially over. He raised the liquor to his lips and drank, pouring whiskey down his gullet in a big gulp.
I wonder if a man would ever drink, because of me.
A wry chuckle escaped his throat.
He’d told Lizzie one day she’d make some man crazy enough. It must have been a premonition, because he was going a little loco right now.
The sun dipped toward the western horizon. Lizzie had been gone for hours now, probably turning young male heads and making poor old Hayden Finch sweat.
“Ah, hell.” Much as he tried, he couldn’t stop imagining Lizzie dancing in Hayden’s arms, laughing, her blue eyes sparkling like two bright gems.
Feeling prickly, Chance rose abruptly. The alcohol hadn’t numbed him sufficiently. He was too restless to wallow in pity anyway. What he needed was a long hard ride. He grabbed his gun belt and fastened it as he strode over to the barn to retrieve his saddle. The barn was dry from the day’s heat and the scent of animal droppings, straw and packed earth rose up to greet him. They were familiar smells that on any other day would bring him comfort. Today, nothing much was helping.
At the corral, he set his saddle down and with a sharp eye spotted Joyful at the farthest fence. He gave her a whistle. The mare trotted over. He had his hand on the gate, when he heard footsteps approaching. The sound of hysterical crying reached his ears at the same time he swiveled around to find Lizzie racing toward the house. He had to blink his eyes twice, making sure he wasn’t seeing things. Her dress was torn at the shoulders, her upswept hair was in a shambles and her dirt-smeared face looked as if she’d been through a dust storm.
“Lizzie!” he called out.
Without giving him a glance, she climbed the porch steps and pushed through the door. “Leave me alone, Chance Worth!” The door slammed shut behind her.
“What the hell.” Chance ate the distance to the house in long strides then yanked the door open and entered the house.
Lizzie whirled around, her eyes red and swollen. She’d been crying a long time.
His pulse pounded in his throat seeing the look of misery on her face. “Go away, Chance.”
“Not until you tell me what happened.”
“This is all your fault!”
“My fault? What are you talking about?” He approached her slowly. She wasn’t making any sense. “Why are you crying?”
Tears continued to spill down her face. “It’s…Hayden.”
Hayden? He rocked back on his heels. Chance took another look at her dress, almost in tatters now and falling off her shoulders. Dirt smudged her face. “Hayden did this to you?” Chance put a hand on his gun. He’d only known this kind of fury when that bastard Quinn Martin had taken Lizzie into the brush. If that mama’s boy Hayden Finch dared to hurt Lizzie, he’d make sure he’d never come near her again. Chance took her arms, holding her firmly, and searched her eyes for the truth. Protective instincts poked at his nerves. “What did he do?”
Lizzie’s face wrinkled tight. “He…he…”
Chance had murder on his mind, as he coaxed the truth from her. “Go on, darlin’.”
“He…” She bit down on her lower lip. The tender skin there puckered. More tears fell.
She was torturing him. “Lizzie, tell me.”
She glared at him, her face once again filled with accusation aimed at him. “He…kissed me.”
Chance blinked and let that sink into his skull for a minute. Newfound jealousy burned in his gut. For her sake, he kept his voice steady. “Is that all he did?”
“No, t-that’s not all!” Her bluster overtook her misery. “Look at me.” She stepped back for him to see her, gesturing with a sweep of her hands over her dress. “I’m a mess! And I feel like a fool.”
He had a fierce need to protect her. “If he abused you he’ll answer to me. Where is he?”
“No! It’s not Hayden’s fault.”
“Lizzie, you’re not making a lick of sense.” Chance’s patience was at its limit. He’d been in a sour mood before she came home, but seeing Lizzie so distraught now made him want to pound his fist into a wall—or into Hayden’s face.
“This is all your fault, Chance. Don’t go blaming Hayden.” Blue fury sparked in her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. “Hayden k-kissed me and I was so…surprised. Lately, he’d started looking at me as a woman and it…it confused me. But I never once thought he was coming home for
me.
He loves me, Chance. He wants to marry me!”
She squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head fiercely as if reliving something awful. “I hurt him. I hurt him so bad. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes when I pushed him away. When I told him it felt strange kissing him. When I told him… I couldn’t marry him.”
“So he attacked you?”
“No! He didn’t touch me after that. He… His face sort of crumpled. He was so very hurt, pleading with me to change my mind. But I couldn’t, Chance, and I told him so. That’s when he… He told me we couldn’t be friends anymore. That he loved me too much to be my friend. I ran all the way home from the Donavans. I fell a few times, ripping my dress, but I kept going fast as I could trying to erase the wounded look in his eyes from my mind. It was like…like I’d betrayed him.”
“You didn’t betray him,” Chance said, greatly relieved he didn’t have to knock the stuffing out of Hayden.
Again she lifted swollen tear-weary eyes to him. “His touch never put flutters in my belly or made my heart pound so hard it felt like it’s gonna burst clear through my chest.” She shook her head, her admission guileless. “It isn’t like when you touch me, Chance. Not like when you kiss me. Nothing’s ever felt so good in my life and…and—”
“Lizzie.” Her name escaped his throat.
“I know you’re gonna tell me to—”