Ambushed!. Vicki Thompson Lewis

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Ambushed! - Vicki Thompson Lewis


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He smiled at her. “Wouldn’t you like one, too? To commemorate winning the watermelon-eating contest?”

      “Maybe.” She thought about it. “But what would you be commemorating?”

      His gaze was open and his voice rang with sincerity. “Our first kiss.”

      A chorus of awww went up from the crowd.

      Morgan felt as if someone had poured warm syrup in the general area of her heart. She couldn’t remember any guy saying something that sweet to her. She studied Gabe to make sure he wasn’t poking fun, but she saw no evidence that he was.

      “I’ll be happy to get each of you copies,” Dominique said. “But how would you feel about me turning it into a gallery shot?”

      Gabe shrugged. “It’s okay with me.”

      Morgan wondered if he’d thought about potential consequences. “Maybe you should check with your family first.”

      Gabe didn’t hesitate. “It’s none of their business.”

      “That’s the spirit.” Nick pushed back his chair and accepted one of the wipe cloths Madge handed to each of the contestants. “Maintaining the Chance family reputation has been highly overrated, wouldn’t you say, little brother?”

      “That’s for sure, big brother.” From his tone of voice, Gabe seemed to be making more than a casual remark.

      Morgan recognized the kind of unspoken communication that happened between siblings. She and her brothers and sisters, all seven of them, shared certain truths that could only come from weathering a common past. From the look that passed between Nick and Gabe, she gathered that both of them had some problems with what had happened in that shared past. Well, join the club.

      “Sack races in fifteen minutes!” shouted someone from the door of the Shoshone Feed Store. “Come collect your sacks if you’re gonna be in it!”

      “That’s me,” Gabe said. “Morgan, are you up for this?”

      She grinned at him. “You couldn’t keep me away.”

      “I was hoping you’d say that. Nick? You racing?”

      “Yes, he is,” said Dominique. “I made him promise to be in everything so I could take pictures.”

      Nick groaned. “Pictures that will be used against me when we have kids.”

      “And grandkids!” Dominique said, laughing.

      Morgan listened without a smidgen of envy. As the oldest in a large family, she’d grown up taking care of her brothers and sisters and in many cases sacrificing her own needs to theirs. She wouldn’t mind hooking up with someone for fun and games, but she wanted to enjoy her freedom a while longer. The idea of having kids didn’t excite her at all.

      GABE HADN’T MINDED losing the watermelon-eating contest, but the sack race was going to be all his. When he crossed the finish line only a foot ahead of Morgan, he claimed a victory kiss. Games that ended in kissing Morgan were a good thing.

      Hanging out with Morgan, Nick and Dominique was a good thing, too. If Morgan hadn’t been there, Gabe might have felt like a fifth wheel tagging along after Nick and Dominique. A foursome was better, and they made up their own team for events like the spoon-and-egg relay.

      Gabe couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a pressure-free day. Sure, he played the games to win, but when he didn’t win, he could still dream up an excuse to kiss Morgan. Kissing Morgan beat winning all to hell.

      Late in the afternoon the four of them helped Josie, owner of Spirits and Spurs, carry her tables outside. Traditionally Shoshone’s Fourth of July ended with a street dance, and Josie was no fool. She’d figured out that serving food and drinks in the open air made a lot more sense than trying to coax people into the saloon.

      She rewarded the four of them with bottles of beer and a prime table next to the section of street where the dancing would take place. Once they were settled, Morgan and Dominique left to repair their hair and makeup in the saloon’s bathroom.

      That presented Gabe with his first chance to talk with Nick alone. He might not have another one, so he latched onto it. Taking a pull on his beer, he glanced over at Nick. “Jack’s getting out of hand.”

      “He’s been out of hand for a while now. Demanding that you stop competing is only the latest stunt in a long line of weirdness.”

      “I’m gonna find a way to compete so Top Drawer can make the Hall of Fame.”

      Nick picked at the label on his beer bottle. “I know you are. And you should.” He glanced up. “Of the three of us, you have the most right to be out there representing the family, and Top Drawer deserves his shot.”

      “Let’s not start that half-brother shit again. As far as I’m concerned, we’re all just brothers.” Gabe had never felt any differently, but convincing Jack and Nick was an uphill battle.

      Jack’s mother had left the ranch and her marriage when Jack was a toddler. Despite Sarah’s continued requests, Jack had never called her Mom, as if he felt obligated to make the distinction that he was her stepson.

      Nick and Gabe had both thought they were Sarah’s kids, but just recently Nick had found a document proving that Sarah wasn’t his biological mother, either. Instead he was the result of an affair his father had had prior to meeting Sarah. Nick’s mother had died, and Nick had come to the ranch as a baby. His father and Sarah had never told him the truth, and the community had helped keep their secret.

      That left Gabe as the only son born to Jonathan and Sarah. Three sons, three different mothers. It made no difference to Gabe. In fact, he was determined to hang on to a sense of unity, even though Jack was currently behaving like an ass. But Nick and Jack weren’t so dedicated to the concept. Jack was the most stubborn about it, but Nick had his moments. Like now.

      “Dad had a special feeling for you,” Nick said. “That’s why he encouraged you to get into the cutting-horse competition in the first place.”

      “He had a special feeling for all of us. You know damned well he didn’t play favorites. He was busting his buttons over you becoming a large-animal vet.”

      “Nah, that wasn’t the same. My degree isn’t exciting.

      You winning ribbons and trophies and then getting prize money on top of it—that’s exciting. He got a vicarious thrill out of you being out there.”

      Gabe considered that as he took another swig of his beer. “Is there any chance Jack is jealous of how Dad felt about me competing and that’s why he wants to shut me down?”

      Nick shook his head. “Don’t think so. Jack’s never seemed jealous of either of us. I think he’s always cherished his position as first-born. But, dear God, is he turning into an anal son of a bitch! All he thinks about is the bottom line, preserving the ranch exactly as Dad left it. He’s taking his responsibility way too seriously.”

      Gabe sighed. “Yeah, well, guilt is a powerful thing.”

      “And so stupid! That rollover was all Dad’s fault. He should have waited for better weather or until Jack was available to go fetch that horse.”

      “What horse?” Morgan asked as the women returned to the table and took their seats.

      “Nothing,” Gabe said. “You know cowboys. Always talking about some horse or other.”

      Morgan didn’t pursue it. Gabe liked that about her. She was interested in things without being nosy. He hadn’t had time to tell Nick about Jack’s treatment of Morgan, but maybe that should stay between him and Jack, anyway.

      Gabe didn’t know for sure where this new friendship with Morgan was headed, but every time he looked at her, he thought of mixing it up on some rumpled bedsheets. More important, he didn’t see white lace and promises, so


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