Chance Of A Lifetime

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Author’s Note

Dedication

Contact the Author

Author Bio

1874

Billows of soot filled the air, enveloping the yard. Daisy Thales put all her disappointment, hurt, and rage into the rug beater as she walloped the smoky taint of the fire from the clothes.

Whump
for Peter, her first sweetheart and loving husband, who had died from pneumonia just months before their child came into the world.

Whump
for everyone who looked at her palsied son in pity. Jamie’s hands and legs weren’t steady, but his heart more than made up for it. She would only have him for a short time—he wasn’t strong enough to live past childhood.

Whump
for their home in Hawk’s Fall, which burned to the ground a fortnight ago, leaving them with only the clothes she couldn’t wash until now, because they had nothing else to wear.

She and Jamie had made it through everything life hurled at them, and she’d make sure they kept on doing so. After Peter went to his eternal reward, she’d supported herself and her son by making delicate lace for fancy ladies. She had birthed Jamie alone in their house, the pains coming too quick to fetch help. When Jamie’s little legs jerked and twitched, she’d taken him to the doctor three towns over and learned her son had palsy and likely wouldn’t live past his first birthday without professional medical care. Her beautiful boy would be turning five come the fall. Every time she came up against a grief greater than she thought she could survive,

Daisy had plowed on ahead and made a life for herself and the son who was her one joy.

And I’ll do it again. Hattie took us in after the fire, but we cain’t live off her and Widow Hendrick’s generosity for long. It would be so easy to stay in the warm home with Hattie’s healing knowledge to help Jamie sleep through the night. But we’re nothing more than charity, no matter what Hattie says about me holping with the old healer
.

Daisy straightened her shoulders before whipping the clothes off the line and carrying them over to the soapy wash water.

Owin’ Hattie is one thing—she’s kin. But I’m even beholden to those Chance men—complete strangers, mind. If it weren’t for how Logan brung me that material to make new clothes, I couldn’t have washed the old ones. We barely escaped that fire with the clothes on our backs
.

She winced at the memories. Jamie had awakened her in the middle of the night, the hearth rug aflame and the fire greedily spreading to take away all they owned. She scooped him up and bolted for the door, not stopping until she was sure Jamie would be safe. Then she ran back for her lace-making basket, the only way she could eke out a living and take care of her son. She’d had the presence of mind to snatch Jamie’s favorite blanket, as well. By the time she made it out, the roof was collapsing behind her. It was still hard to breathe sometimes on account of the smoke she’d taken in that night.

The fumes of the lye soap stung her eyes, and she let a few tears fall before taking the clothes and plunging them into the cool, fresh rinse water. She wrung them out, then pinned them to the clothesline to dry.

Almost good as new
. Daisy nodded to herself.
And we will be, too
.

She finished the rest of the washing before going inside to start dinner. Hattie’d set out early in the morning to visit an ailing family and wouldn’t be back before supper. The Chance brothers had been hard at work all day, so Daisy reckoned they’d have a hollow leg apiece to fill.

“Ma! ‘Ook!” Jamie pushed his slate toward her, and she picked it up.

“That’s wonderful, Jamie!” He’d copied his name from Miz Willow’s spidery scrawl, and his big, wavering, loopy letters filled the slate. She handed it back to him. “Now practice it one more time.”

Jamie’s chalk rubbed slowly along the board while Daisy wondered whether or not to call Logan and Bryce to come in and wash up. She could still hear them sawing lumber outside while she sliced bread and put it on the table. She hastily put together a platter full of chicken sandwiches and cheese. She rang the dinner bell. That’d do. After dinner, she’d start a hearty pot roast with potatoes and carrots for supper. And as a special treat, she’d bake a fresh apple pie.

Logan and Bryce deserved it for working so hard on the new addition to Willow Hendrick’s house. The healer’s home already had an extra room to store medicines and such, but with Hattie and Logan fixin’ on marrying each other, they’d need a place of their own. Logan worked like a man with a fine reward waiting at the end of his labor, and his brother kept pace alongside him.

The two brothers walked into the cabin, and Daisy was once again struck by how much they could look so alike but be so different. Both were tall and well built, with blue eyes and brown hair. Logan, his easy smile and chin set like someone who usually got his way, stood a few inches shy of his older brother.

Daisy reckoned she’d pegged Logan Chance the first time she saw him—a good-natured, exuberant, polite young man who’d treat her sister-in-law well and give Hattie the love she deserved. Every person on earth wanted something, and Logan wanted Hattie, as well as to stay in Salt Lick Holler. By building this addition, he’d get both.

Bryce wasn’t so easy to figure out. His broad shoulders and quiet manner announced to the world that he was a man who stood firm in his decisions. His smile, though much harder won than that of his brother, would break across his face like a lightening bolt and shine with an intensity that startled her. There was a calm in his deep blue eyes that made Daisy wonder what he knew that she didn’t.

“Hey, buddy.” Bryce’s strong hands gently ruffled her son’s pale blond hair.

“Hi, Byce.” Jamie beamed up at the big man with all the adulation usually reserved for a boy’s father. But Jamie had no father, so it would do him good to be around Logan and Bryce for a while.

If only Peter had lived, everything would be so different. …

Daisy pushed away the wistful thought. “If only” had to be about as useless an idea as ever existed. Stuck in the here and now, longing for the past only made each day that much harder.

Bryce straightened up and mopped his brow. He and Logan had come a long way on the addition to the main cabin, but it would still take a lot of work to complete.

It took so much less time back in California at Chance Ranch where Gideon, Daniel, Titus, and Paul were on hand to help me and Logan. Now that Logan’s staying here in Salt Lick Holler, all six of us will never put our hands to the same project again
.

And recently, they’d worked on many projects like this one. The past five years had brought five brides—one for each of Bryce’s brothers. Before Logan came to the holler and met Hattie, they’d acquired four sisters-in-law back at the ranch. Miriam, the missionary’s daughter, came for her sister’s children and got Gideon. Alyssa, maid turned heiress, popped up mysteriously to snare Titus. Delilah, the gambler’s daughter, planted herself into Paul’s heart. Meanwhile, the three McPherson brothers who’d courted her simultaneously were persuaded to write back home for brides. So Eunice, Lois, and Temperance had arrived to wed Obie, Hezzy, and Mike. Lovejoy, Tempy’s older sister, shepherded them all to Reliable, won a hard-fought battle for the widower Daniel’s love, becoming his second wife and stepmother to Polly and Ginny Mae.

Yep
. Things had gotten pretty crowded and chaotic back home, and Bryce had noticed Logan itching for some adventure. When Bryce first suggested that Logan stretch his legs and see some of the world, he hadn’t planned on tagging along. All the same, he somehow got hitched to Logan’s wagon. The Chance vote approving Logan’s trip came with the condition that Bryce accompany his younger brother, so the two ended up in Salt Lick Holler, a tiny community carved into the Appalachian Mountains. Bryce had suggested visiting Lovejoy’s hometown, never suspecting that once it came time to return to California, he’d be leaving his closest brother behind.

The supper bell rang, so Bryce put away his tools and ambled into the cabin.
Something sure smells good
.

“‘Ook!” Jamie ordered, pushing a slate into Bryce’s hand.

Bryce held it up in the light and saw a row of
J–a–m–i–e
‘s squiggling down the board in the painstaking and still shaky hand of a young boy. He nodded seriously and handed it back to Jamie before taking a seat.

“You’re coming a long way, Jamie.” Bryce wasn’t one to scoop out handfuls of praise. He figured an honest assessment would go further than ebullience. Besides, Jamie deserved to be treated with the dignity befitting a man. Even if he was young, the boy had more inner strength than just about anyone Bryce had ever met. It looked like Jamie got that from his mama. She’d been through a lot of tough times—too many, to Bryce’s way of thinking—but she still had a smile for her son and anyone else who needed encouragement. Bryce admired them both.

He sneaked a surreptitious glance at Daisy as she poured fresh milk into her son’s cup. A petite woman, her generous curves and loving smile lent her an unconventional beauty—the beauty of a woman rather than the untested prettiness she undoubtedly possessed as a young girl. Her long, honey-colored hair hung past her waist. Not a single lock dared to break free. She braided her hair in an intricate pattern similar to the woven reins he used when training a horse. He wondered what she’d look like when it came unraveled, her hair shining in waves to frame her big brown eyes and the smattering of freckles across her sun-kissed nose.