Authors: Cathy Gillen Thacker
Thank goodness for focus groups, Madison thought. “I’m glad.”
Ursula studied Madison. “What does Chance Cartwright think about what you did for him?”
Madison shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She plucked at the fabric of her loose-fitting linen shift. “He doesn’t know yet.”
Ursula flipped through her Filofax. Finding the date she wanted, she made a small notation next to it. “When are you going to tell him?”
Madison shrugged. The answer to that wasn’t simple. “The next time I talk to him, I suppose.”
“Which will be—”
“I’m not sure.”
Ursula’s gaze turned sympathetic. “I was engaged once a long time ago,” she said softly.
“What happened?”
Ursula closed her Filofax with a decisive snap. “I kept putting my career first—to the point my relationship almost ceased to exist. Needless to say—” she lifted her shoulders in a small, elegant shrug “—my fiancé saw the light, gave me an ultimatum, which I politely but firmly refused to accept, and ended our engagement.”
Madison studied the older woman. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“That men like Chance Cartwright don’t come along very often in any woman’s life,” Ursula replied softly. “I didn’t have a child to consider. You do.”
Mustering every bit of composure she had, Madison pretended her heart was still intact. “It’s better this way,” she said, not sure who she was trying to convince, Ursula or herself.
“The two of you not in contact?” Ursula’s expression became skeptical. “I don’t see how.”
Madison’s hand went to her stomach, resting there protectively. She tried not to think about how much she already missed Chance, and it had only been a few days. “We’d just end up hurting each other.”
Her expression said Ursula was not as sure about that. “You still have a baby—”
“We’ll do right by him or her,” Madison assured her blithely. “You’ll see. We just need some time to get to the point where it isn’t quite so awkward to talk to each other.”
Where it doesn’t hurt quite so much.
Ursula was silent.
Shawna Somersby came in with papers for Madison to go over and the phone on Madison’s desk began to blink, signaling she had two calls waiting.
Ursula rose gracefully. “You’re at a crucial point in your life, Madison.” She paused, her glance kind but direct. “Just make sure whatever decision you make is one you’re going to be able to live with the rest of your life.”
* * *
“S
O THE FEE STRUCTURE
is not going to change,” Chance surmised after Ed Connelly finished going over the numbers with him.
“Right.” Ed sipped the coffee Chance had made for them. “You’ll still be able to give the Lost Springs Ranch for Boys the same amount of money. The only difference is you won’t be asked to participate in any of the trade shows or any publicity for the Ranchero. You’ll be pictured in the ads—along with the truck—and that’s it. Any trade show appearances will be made by Rona Fitzgerald, and she’ll be doing the voice-overs for the TV and radio ads, too. We’re still in negotiations, but it looks like Rona is going to feature the new truck in an episode of her TV show. Her character will get a new Ranchero as part of the story line. In return, the AMV Corporation will supply them with Ranchero trucks to use on the set, and one for Rona’s personal use, too.”
“That’ll make Rona happy. She really liked the Ranchero AMV gave me.”
“That’s what Madison said.” Ed took one of the store-bought cookies Chance offered. “That’s where she got the idea to approach Rona about being the pitch person for the new truck.”
Chance knew how much Rona enjoyed doing commercials and being the center of attention—both on and off the set of her TV show. She was already planning to buy another horse or two from him with her earnings. “Seems like it’s worked out for everyone, then,” Chance said. He stared out at his ranch. The end of summer was a beautiful time of year in Wyoming, but this year he could hardly enjoy the temperate sunny days and crisp cool nights. Pushing his loneliness aside, he turned to Ed and gave him a rueful grin. “You don’t know how happy it makes me to be able to remain relatively anonymous, after all’s said and done, and not be turned into some instant celebrity.”
“I have an inkling.” Ed sat back in his chair and ran a hand over his balding head. “Although I’m not sure I’d feel the same way in your shoes. You had the opportunity to be the next Diet Cola man.”
Chance recalled those commercials. The previously unknown male model had played a construction worker who stripped off his shirt every day at a certain time to drink a diet cola, while a group of female office workers ogled him from above. Instant fame, money and celebrity had followed. The guy had become a huge sex symbol almost overnight. “That’s not how or why I want my fifteen minutes in the spotlight,” Chance said dryly. He’d rather be known as a loving husband and father.
Ed helped himself to another cookie. “That’s what Madison indicated when she helped convince Ursula—who helped convince the Ranchero people—that the truck should be the real star of the commercial, not the cowboy driving it around his ranch or the TV star pitching it.”
Chance plucked a chocolate chip cookie from the cellophane package. “You don’t agree?”
Ed shook his head. “I saw the commercial the way it was originally put together—before Rona was on board to introduce the truck and do the voice-overs. If Madison had kept the campaign the way it was, with the emphasis equally on you and the Ranchero, she would have been as famous as you would’ve been. Instead, she changed it to protect you and then insisted she could no longer work with you personally. Knowing that doing so—blatantly putting her personal feelings above the needs of the client—would cost her the vice presidency of Connelly and Associates.”
This was news. “Why would she do that?” Chance asked, not sure how he felt about it or what it really meant.
Ed shrugged. “I’ve been asking myself the very same question. For as long as I’ve known her, Madison has been after just this sort of recognition. And now that she finally had it within her grasp—” Ed shook his head, looking completely baffled “—she just walked away.”
* * *
“I
CAN’T BELIEVE
you’re leaving before I am,” Shawna said as Madison set the cardboard box on her desk and began emptying her middle desk drawer.
“Cheer up.” Madison smiled at the intern. “The summer’s almost over. You’ll be headed back to college before you know it.”
“I’d feel a lot better about it if you weren’t quitting because of all the stuff that went wrong on the Ranchero account.” Shawna’s eyes filled with regret. “I mean—I know I made some mistakes, too, when I was helping you on that. Like giving Chance Cartwright that trade show schedule when he wasn’t supposed to have it yet. I know that’s one of the things he got so mad about, even before he threw everyone off his ranch.”
Madison stopped Shawna’s apology with a gentle look. “Your mistakes—and let’s be honest, Shawna, there was really only one of any consequence—have nothing to do with my resigning.”
Shawna blinked in confusion. “Then what does?” she persisted.
“I’d like the answer to that myself,” a familiar voice said.
Madison turned to see Chance framed in the doorway to her office. He was dressed in a white cotton shirt, jeans, tweed sport coat, boots and Stetson. He looked more ruggedly handsome than ever, and at the sight of him so near, her breath caught in her chest. “Chance.”
Chance looked at Shawna. He lifted his brow. “Maybe you’d like to give us some time alone?”
Shawna beamed. “Absolutely!”
Apparently unable to help herself, she leaned over and murmured in Madison’s ear just loud enough for her to hear, “You go, girl!”
Madison’s cheeks filled with warmth as Shawna dashed out of the office, stopping only long enough to shut the door quietly behind her.
Chance and Madison squared off. “So why are you quitting?” he asked with a studied casualness that sent her heart slamming against her ribs.
Deciding it was cowardly to continue hiding behind her desk, Madison stood and circled it to face him. She lifted her chin and, clinging to what little was left of her pride, confided matter-of-factly, “I decided you were right—this job and our baby aren’t compatible. The hours are too long and there is definitely too much stress and pressure, too many decisions out of my control.” She paused to wet her lips, not sure what he’d think of her plan, only knowing she still cared deeply about his opinion despite everything that had happened between them. Taking a deep breath, she plunged on. “I’ve decided to become a consultant and work out of my home.”
Chance’s lips curved in approval. “Sounds perfect for you,” he said huskily, although he gave her the impression he wouldn’t have cared what she had decided, one way or another.
Madison gulped. “I think it will be.”
Chance took her hand between his own and squeezed it warmly. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” Knowing if they stood like that even one second longer she’d burst into tears, Madison swiftly withdrew her hand from his and went back to boxing up her things. “What are you doing here?” she asked over her shoulder.
Chance circled to stand in front of her, one shoulder braced against the wall. “Ed told me what you’d done in terms of retooling the Ranchero ads to keep me out of the spotlight while at the same time insuring that I would be able to earn some money from them to donate to the Lost Springs Ranch for Boys. I wanted to thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Madison continued filling the boxes with the awards she had taken down from the walls.
Chance pitched in to help. “So how you’ve been?” he asked quietly, with the considerateness of an old friend.
Sad. Lonely. Missing you more than I ever could have imagined possible.
“Okay.” Madison swallowed around the increasing knot of emotion in her throat. “How’ve you been?”
Chance shrugged aimlessly. “Okay. Busy.”
Silence fell between them. Chance edged closer. “How’s the baby?”
Madison straightened and smiled. “Growing like a weed, according to my obstetrician.”
Chance’s eyes sparkled with happiness, and his glance fell to her expanding belly. “Good.”
Madison blushed. There was so much she wanted to say. So much she was afraid to say. But she knew she had to start somewhere or spend an entire lifetime regretting it. “Chance—”
He put a finger against her lips. An arm about her waist. The next thing she knew she was in his arms. And he was tilting her face to his. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Madison’s heart took a trembling leap as the love she felt for him—would always feel—bubbled up inside her. “For what?”
“For giving you ultimatums.” Chance ran his hands warmly up and down her back. Soothing. Seducing. “For demanding everything ASAP. For being a jerk,” he murmured hoarsely. “And not understanding how much your career meant to you.”
Tears stung her eyes. “I’m sorry, too,” Madison whispered thickly, as the tears streamed down her face. “For running out on you when I did.”
Chance held her all the tighter. “Is that what you were doing?” he murmured, studying her upturned face. “Running?”
Madison nodded, knowing she needed to tell him this. She slipped her hands beneath his sport coat and splayed her fingertips across the hardness of his chest. “I felt so much for you, so fast, it scared me.” She shook her head. “I didn’t want to put everything I had, heart and soul, into making us a couple and the three of us a family. I—I wanted everything to stay the same in my life and yours so that if things didn’t work out we could easily just slip back into our old lives, almost as if none of it had ever happened.” She paused to take a breath, and at the same time searched his eyes. “Am I making sense?”
Chance inhaled deeply. He let his breath out slowly. “More than you know.”
“But then I realized that couldn’t happen,” she said softly, feeling for the first time in a long time that things were going to be all right. “I realized that if we were going to be together, I had to make some choices. And some changes. I realized I had to stop holding part of myself back and start taking risks—the kind that would put my heart on the line.”
Chance stroked a hand through her hair. “And that’s why you quit your job here,” he guessed tenderly.
Madison nodded. “Because I wanted to be with you. And if that wasn’t possible, at least make it so you could be with our baby as much as you wanted. That’s why I’m moving to Wyoming and opening my consulting business there.”
The pure joy she had expected to see on his face never came. Instead, his expression went from joyous to wary. “Madison, you don’t have to do all this,” he said seriously. “I could just as easily sell my ranch and move my horse training business down here.”
Madison paused, stunned. She knew how much the ranch meant to him—it was everything. “You’d do that for me?” she demanded hoarsely.
Chance nodded. “I’d do anything to make you happy,” he vowed seriously. He touched his index finger to her lips. “There’s only one condition.”
Madison tensed, hoping like heck these were terms she could meet, because she didn’t want to lose him again, not ever. “And that is?” she asked tremulously.
“Marry me, Madison,” Chance said, lifting her lips to his. “Not because of the baby.” He paused to give her a long, sexy kiss. “Although that’s a darn good reason in and of itself. But because—” he paused to kiss her again “—we belong together. Today, tomorrow and for all time.”
* * *
C
HANCE SPREAD
THE
blueprints across the kitchen table. “So what do you think?” he asked Madison after she’d had time to study the proposed addition to his house.
“I think it’s perfect.” She laced her arms around his neck and gave him a heartfelt hug. “When it’s finished we’ll have two extra rooms upstairs. One for the baby—”
“And one for the baby’s brother or sister,” Chance cut in with a sly wink.
Madison grinned as she looked at the matching wedding rings they both wore. The thought that they might someday have two children—one planned, one not—delighted her, too.
“And downstairs I’ll have my office as well as a playroom and nursery right next door,” she continued enthusiastically as Chance sat in a chair and tugged her onto his lap.