Читать книгу Feels Like Home - Vicki Thompson Lewis - Страница 9

MEG FROWNED AT HER REFLECTION in the mirror. She’d tried on every pair of earrings she’d brought to Wyoming, plus the long and dramatic ones in turquoise and silver that she’d bought during a shopping trip in Jackson with Olivia. She’d also changed clothes three times.

This was not like her, and she was angry with herself because she knew the cause of it all. She wanted to look stunning for Rafe Locke when she came down to dinner. What a ridiculous goal that was.

One glance had told her that he dated skinny women in designer dresses and up-to-the-minute hairstyles who had exotic jobs in the art district. That was so not her.

She’d never been skinny or willing to shell out for designer clothes or an expensive salon cut. She was a brainy engineer who worked for the City of Pittsburgh designing traffic-control systems in areas of urban growth. She had her hair cut at the same Pittsburgh salon where her BFF Olivia had worked until a year ago, when she’d moved to Wyoming.

But Rafe had snagged her attention. He claimed not to be interested in ranch life, but she sensed he was more wary than uninterested and possibly afraid of looking foolish doing something he wasn’t good at. His apparent reluctance to step out of his comfort zone posed an irresistible challenge to her.

She knew from personal experience that breaking through self-imposed boundaries created a life full of excitement. Rafe’s attitude implied that the Last Chance would be a blip on his ultrasophisticated radar, a place to tolerate until he could satisfy his duties as best man and return to the rarified, and possibly stifling, air of his San Francisco existence. Shaking him out of that self-satisfied rut would be good for him and tons of fun for her.

His well-toned body tempted her, too. Those broad shoulders and narrow hips would look great in cowboy gear. She could picture his dark eyes shadowed by a tilted Stetson. Oh, yeah.

At least once during their meeting this afternoon she’d caught a flash of interest in his expression. Building on his initial interest might be a way to lure him into tasting cowboy life. He really did look like a younger version of Jack Chance, and almost every woman in Shoshone agreed that Jack was sexier than hell. He was also taken.

Rafe was not, and he had the makings of a hero. After all, he was Wyatt’s twin and Jack’s half brother, so a cowboy’s soul could be hiding under that urban exterior and just waiting to be turned loose. Meg figured she had first crack at him, at least for the week of the wedding. Wasn’t that the prerogative of the maid of honor when the best man was single? If it wasn’t in the wedding party rules, it should be.

This dithering had made her late, though. She’d heard Olivia and Wyatt arrive at least twenty minutes ago and the sound of laughter and the clink of glasses from downstairs told her that drinks were being served in the living room. In late August the weather was nippy enough for a fire in the evenings and she could smell cedar smoke. All the Chance family would gather tonight because welcoming Wyatt’s twin, who was also Jack’s half brother, was a big deal.

Rafe would be down there trying to keep everyone in the family straight in his mind. Meg felt a little sorry for him having to deal with it after a day of traveling. And he didn’t fit into this ranch crowd at all, which wouldn’t help.

Meg felt totally comfortable here and had a good memory for names and faces. Even so, she always mentally reviewed the players before jumping into a large gathering. Jack, the oldest Chance son, was married to Josie, who owned the local tavern Spirits and Spurs. Their baby son was named Archie after his great-grandfather.

Next oldest was Nick, a large-animal vet who’d married Dominique, a talented photographer. They were plowing through the paperwork to adopt Lester, a thirteen-year-old boy in foster care who’d been part of a work program for disadvantaged youth held at the ranch for the first time this summer. Nick and Dominique, along with everyone at the ranch, had fallen in love with Lester and had decided they’d be more than happy to start their family with him.

The youngest son, Gabe, was married to Morgan, a redhead. Meg and Morgan had bonded over the joys and problems of having red hair. Morgan and Gabe’s little toddler, Sarah Bianca, had inherited the red hair, so Meg felt right at home with those two.

The sixtysomething ranch foreman, Emmett Sterling, would probably be at the gathering because he’d worked at the ranch for years and was considered part of the family. He actually might become part of the family if he and Pam Mulholland, who ran a nearby bed-and-breakfast, ever got married. Pam was Nick Chance’s aunt, and she’d be there, too.

Sarah Chance, the matriarch of the group, had finally found a new love after the untimely death of her husband several years ago. Peter Beckett, her fiancé, would be in attendance. A philanthropist, he’d funded the ranch’s summer program for young teens.

It was a lot to take in and, unlike Wyatt, Rafe didn’t seem eager to embrace the Chance family. That would throw extra tension into a situation already filled with drama.

Meg liked and admired the Chance family, but her personal obligation was to Olivia and Olivia’s sweetheart, Wyatt. By extension, Meg felt some loyalty to Rafe, and he’d have a much easier time of it if he’d get that burr out from under his saddle, as they said out here in the West.

“Meg?” Olivia’s voice floated down the hall. “I’ve been sent up to check on you.”

“I’m in here.” Meg shook her head and made the silver-and-turquoise earrings dance. They went well with the black dress she’d settled on, the simple little black dress that every woman was supposed to have hanging in her closet. Knowing her limitations in the fashion department, Meg had clung to that advice.

Olivia, looking radiant in a dark green dress, appeared in the doorway of what was still referred to as “Roni’s room.” The Chances had taken Roni in when she was a runaway teen. Now she worked as a mechanic on the NASCAR circuit and had married a guy on her racing team.

The decor hadn’t been updated since the days when Roni had been obsessed with NASCAR. But it was the only upstairs bedroom with an attached bath, so it was usually assigned to any single female guest. Meg qualified and was grateful for the privacy.

“Oh, Meg, those earrings are spectacular with that dress.” Olivia beamed at her.

“And you look terrific, as always.” Meg glanced lovingly at her friend. Olivia constantly experimented with her hair, and recently she’d colored it in various shades of red and blonde. For tonight’s event she’d created an arrangement of upswept curls and dangling ringlets that inspired Meg’s awe.

“Thank you.” Olivia smiled. “Being crazy in love helps.”

“I don’t have that going for me, unfortunately. I wish I’d asked you to come early and do my hair. It just sits there, a curly red blob.”

“Is that what’s keeping you?” Olivia crossed to the dressing table, picked up a tube of gel and squeezed some into her palm. “I can fix that in a jiffy.”

“The hair, the dress, the makeup, the jewelry. I’ve been a mass of writhing indecision.” Meg’s anxiety level dropped significantly as Olivia massaged hair gel into her misbehaving curls.

“Sounds serious.” Olivia finished with the gel and picked up a brush and a hair dryer. “You’re usually the calmest one of the bunch.”

“I think it’s having Rafe here.”

“He does change the dynamics.” She turned the dryer on low and began to work. “He’s a different kind of guy and he doesn’t quite fit in at the moment, but I’m counting on the fact he’s Wyatt’s twin. He’ll be fine. It’ll all work out.”

“I hope so. He seems sort of …” Meg hesitated to label him and risk offending his future sister-in-law.

“So you’ve met him?”

“I introduced myself this afternoon. He thinks I tried to run him down while I was on Spilled Milk.”

Olivia met Meg’s gaze in the mirror and laughed. “So did you?”

“No! Of course not!”

“Just wondering, because speaking for myself, I have the strongest urge to mess with him.”

Meg grinned, relieved she could be honest. “Livy, he’s ridiculously uptight. He told me he has ‘no interest’ in participating in the activities of the ranch. Won’t dress in jeans and boots until forced to. Plans to spend the week checking in to work on his iPad. How crazy is that?”

Olivia nodded. “That’s what he said just now, too. He seems to be holding the ranch and the Chance family at arm’s length. Poor Wyatt doesn’t know what to do.”

“Well, that sucks. For Wyatt and you, but for Rafe, too. He has no idea what he’s missing. It’s a crime to come to this beautiful ranch and stay cooped up with an iPad.”

“I agree.” Olivia used the brush and hair dryer to arrange Meg’s hair in soft, layered curls that framed her face. “There, how’s that?”

“Incredible.” Meg turned her head to view the results. The earrings swung rhythmically as she moved. “Now I feel gorgeous enough to take on Rafe Locke.”

Olivia smiled. “And do what with him?”

“You know, I think, deep down, he might want to loosen up, but he’s afraid to. He needs some help.”

“Well, if anyone can help him overcome those fears, it’s you.” Olivia stood back. “Go get him, girl.”

RAFE WAS HOLDING UP, but just barely. The shock of seeing his doppelganger—Jack Chance—walk into the room had largely worn off, but keeping the names and faces of the Chance clan sorted out had taken its toll. Fortunately no one had asked him the million-dollar question—whether Diana was coming to the wedding.

Even if they had, he wouldn’t have been able to give them an answer. He realized his mother was taking rudeness to a new level by waiting this long to reply, but surely a family rift that had lasted thirty-two years gave her some dispensation from the Emily Post crowd. He didn’t condone her behavior, either now or thirty-two years ago, but he didn’t want to see her humiliated, either.

He was trying to figure out a way to ditch the whole dinner plan and head upstairs to bed when Meg walked down the curved staircase looking like a queen at her coronation. He stared, then caught himself and glanced away.

But the image stayed with him. She’d abandoned the cowgirl look for a slinky black dress that showed off cleavage he hadn’t imagined existed when she’d worn a T-shirt. Her curly red hair now fell in soft waves around her face, and dangling earrings caught the light as she moved.

Dressed like this, she could walk into any nightclub in San Francisco and turn heads. She was turning them here, even though every man in the place except Rafe was spoken for. After an hour in the company of these guys, Rafe knew they all adored their wives, or fiancée in Wyatt’s case. But a man would have to be dead not to notice Meg tonight.

The only male who dared say something was thirteen-year-old Lester, a foster kid who would eventually be a part of the Chance family when Nick and Dominique formally adopted him. Lester gazed up at Meg with reverence in his eyes. “Wow. You clean up real good.”

That brought a laugh from everyone, including Meg. “Thanks, Lester.” She touched the lapel of the boy’s new Western shirt. “You’re pretty stylin’ yourself.”

“This is new.” Lester stuck out his skinny chest to show off his shirt. “Boots are new, too. Ropers.”

“Very nice. I’ll bet you and Nick went shopping today.”

Rafe covertly watched the interchange and wished he’d had the presence of mind to compliment her instead of allowing Lester to take the lead. The boy was small for his age, but apparently he had a gift for working with horses. Of the eight boys who’d spent the summer months at the ranch, Lester had been the standout according to Sarah. Nick and Dominique couldn’t stop talking about how much they enjoyed having him as part of their family.

Gazing at Lester, Rafe thought about what Meg had said this afternoon about the Last Chance changing lives. Here was a perfect example and Rafe applauded the effort. The ranch was a lifeline for a boy like Lester, but Rafe didn’t happen to need saving.

Wyatt walked over to stand beside him. “I saw your reaction when Meg came down, bro.” He gestured in her direction with his beer bottle. “It’s the most animated you’ve been since you arrived.”

“She’s a good-looking woman.” Rafe took a sip of his red wine as he watched Meg fuss over Lester.

“She’s also really special to Olivia.”

Rafe glanced at Wyatt. In the two months since Rafe had last seen him, Wyatt had become a cowboy, both in dress and attitude. It suited him. “That sounded like a warning. Are you saying I should keep my hands off Meg?”

“That’s not my place. Meg is a big girl, and she makes her own decisions. I’ve come to respect that about her. I’m just saying that you shouldn’t … Hell, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“I do.” Rafe usually could tell what his twin was thinking, even if Wyatt couldn’t put it into words. “You’re telling me not to cause a problem for your fiancée’s best friend. I promise not to do that.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Wyatt squeezed Rafe’s shoulder. “Looks like Sarah’s herding us all into the dining room. I think you’ll enjoy the food.”

“I’m sure I will. The ranch is great, Wyatt.”

“Yeah, it is.” Relief shone in Wyatt’s gray eyes. “I’m glad you see that.”

Rafe felt like a first-class jerk. He’d known Wyatt desperately wanted his approval of the place and the family. That had been plain ever since Wyatt had announced his engagement. Yet Rafe had been reserving judgment, holding himself slightly apart. As his twin, Wyatt had sensed Rafe’s attitude and had been troubled by it.

Rafe would rather cut off his arm than hurt Wyatt, and his behavior was doing exactly that. “I’ve been thinking,” he said as they walked down a hallway lined with family photos. “Maybe I should take a shot at riding a horse while I’m here.”

Wyatt laughed. “You don’t have to do that, buddy. I know it’s not your thing.”

“That’s true.” He remembered what Meg had said this afternoon. “But when am I ever going to have a better setup than this?”

“That’s true. I’d take you out tomorrow, except Olivia and I are having a final meeting with the caterers in the morning, and we’re double-checking the flower order in the afternoon, but the next day I could probably—”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure there are a million people around here who could teach me the basics.” He immediately thought of Meg, but discarded the idea. She intrigued him far too much, and things could get messy. He’d just promised his brother not to create a problem.

Wyatt nodded. “You’re right. I’ll check with Emmett. He’ll know who has some spare time tomorrow.”

“Great. You know, this house is huge.”

“It is.” He gestured to the large room they’d entered. Although it held four round tables that could each seat eight, they weren’t set for dinner. “They use this area at lunch and all the hands eat here along with whatever family members are available.”

“Sounds like good PR.” On his right, through a set of double doors, was a smaller dining room furnished with one long table, the kind that could be expanded or contracted as needed. Gleaming silverware and faceted goblets sparkled in the light from a hammered metal chandelier.

“It’s more than PR,” Wyatt said. “It’s the way the Chance family does things. There’s not a bit of snobbery in them.”

Guilt pricked Rafe again. “I’m sure that appeals to you.”

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong. I love Mom. But she’s a terrible snob. And I hate to say it, but so is Dad.”

Rafe sighed. “He is, and damn it, I was acting like a snob when I first got here. I’m sorry about that. It’s just so … different from what I’m used to.”

“I know.” Wyatt grinned at him. “That’s why I like it here.”

Rafe could tell. He was happy for his twin, and he vowed he would do his best to fit in for the short time he was part of Wyatt’s new world. As they all filed into the dining room, he hesitated, unsure of where he was supposed to sit.

Sarah glanced his way. “Rafe, why don’t you—”

“He can sit here, Sarah.” Meg patted a chair next to her. “We’re the two who don’t have kids or spouses, so we might as well hang out together.”

Sarah looked pleased. “That works.”

Rafe took the offered chair. “Thanks.” Sitting next to her at dinner wasn’t the same as making a play for her, so he felt okay with it. He also thought a polite compliment was in order. “You look really nice.”

Her cheeks turned slightly pink. “Thank you. I don’t get dressed up very often.”

That made him wonder how she earned a living. “Where do you work?”

“I’m an engineer for the city. I specialize in traffic control.” She gazed at him steadily, as if to assess his reaction.

“Huh. I’ve never met someone who did that.” So she had brains, too. She intrigued the hell out of him, and he’d just promised Wyatt not to get involved.

“My job doesn’t usually make for fascinating dinner conversation.”

He laughed as he unfolded his napkin and laid it in his lap. “Mine, either.”

“So what shall we talk about?”

“Well …” He couldn’t resist telling her of his latest plan, especially after the way she’d goaded him earlier. “You’ll be happy to know I’m going to try riding tomorrow.”

Her green eyes grew wide. “You are?”

“Yep. I decided that you’re right. I’ll never have a better chance than now, so why not?”

Her smile dazzled him. “That’s fabulous. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I’ll probably fall off, but what the hell?”

“You won’t fall off.”

“I might. I don’t know the first thing about riding a horse.” He picked up his water glass and took a drink.

“It’s easy. What time do you want to start?”

He nearly choked on his water. “Start? What do you mean?”

“I mean, after challenging you to experience life on a ranch, I think it’s only fair that I be the one to teach you to ride. The hands are all busy and I’m relatively free. So what time?”

“I—” He cast around for a way out of this. He’d be terrible in the beginning, and he didn’t relish the idea of looking bad in front of her.

“I suggest eight-thirty. I’ll meet you down at the barn.” She smiled again. “You’re going to love this, Rafe.”

“If you say so.” He had plenty of misgivings about having her teach him to ride, but the plan had one positive side. Given his lack of experience with horses, the time spent together had zero chance of being romantic.