Second Chance Cowboy (15 page)

“
They did seem pretty
lucky.” She chuckled yet it sounded more along the lines of a
gurgle because his tongue buried deep inside, ending rational
thought. “Mmm, Chance. Your tongue is magical.” Her body released
into spasm after spasm and she moaned his name. He backed away and
she sat up, pushing his chest lightly. She fumbled with the waist
of his pants until his erection was free and stretched toward her.
He was ready and she climbed across his lap. “Let’s face it, you
find me irresistible.” Her smile beamed self-assurance.

“
What makes you think
that?” His words were close to a growl.

She wriggled her hips against his
shaft, dipping the very tip of him inside her dewy satin before
withdrawing. He sucked in a harsh breath. “What do you want,
Chance?” she whispered against his warm cheek.

Chance spread his hands up her thighs
and around her hips to grasp her bottom in his large palms. He
pulled her forward and thrust upward, sinking himself into her. She
wrapped around him and clenched. She secured her knees on either
side of his hips. She took on a slow rhythm of a cowgirl riding her
bull, hanging on to his shoulders and squeezing her
thighs.

When she reached climax, she swung her
head back, arched her body, thrusting her breasts out. Chance
reached up, palmed the pale mounds, and flicked her nipples with
the tips of his thumbs. She buried her face against his shoulder,
her body jerked in sweet awareness. He wrapped his arms around her,
securely.

Night fell and the air grew chilly.
They dressed in contented silence. Instead of pulling on her damp
bra and the useless panties, she dressed in Chance’s shirt. It
covered her body and reached an inch above her knee.

“
You should wear my clothes
more often,” he teased, enclosing her with his arms and pulling her
close.

“
You should wear me more
often,” she said brazenly. She had never been ashamed or
embarrassed to say what was on her mind to him. They had a
comfortable relationship with the freedom to vocalize their
desires.

They reached the clearing to the
house. Both of them saw a shadow. It was too dark to see who paced
the porch until they got closer and the tall, broad shouldered man
with cowboy hat could only be one person. Duke.

Closer, Carly saw the look of death
that had washed his tan white.

Chance spoke first. “You look like
you’ve seen a ghost, Duke.”

Duke’s eyes went from Chance to Carly
in an expression of compassion and sorrow. He shoved his hands deep
into his pockets.

She stopped in her tracks, never
seeing Duke so solemn before and it scared her. “What is it,
Duke?”

He hesitated before glancing at Chance
with silent turmoil. “Chance, can I speak to you a
minute?”

Chance glimpsed at Carly and told her,
“Why don’t you go on into the house. I’ll be in
shortly.”

She glanced from Chance to Duke.
Uneasiness climbed her spine. She stayed near Chance’s side. “I’ll
stay.”

Chance and Duke passed a look of
concern. “Okay. Duke, you can speak to me in front of
Carly.”

Duke swallowed with noticeable
difficulty before he stated, “I’m sorry, Carly.” His voice broke
off. He appeared to gain his composure. “Dr. Maxwell called asking
if I had seen you. There was an emergency. He said your father fell
ill a few hours ago and passed away.”

Carly’s body went stiff and she
dropped the towel from her hand. Chance’s hand on her shoulder
squeezed and he said something, but her brain wouldn’t lend a hand.
Frozen on the words “your father fell ill and he passed away,” her
mind and body screamed in shock. “It can’t be true. He had his
physical a few months back and the doctor had given him a clean
bill of health. Anyone who knew Harry McAllister realized he was
healthy.”

“
Where? At the McAllister?”
Chance asked Duke.

Duke nodded, a barely audible movement
with his wide brimmed Stetson lowered over his eyes.

Carly looked at Chance, tears welled
in her eyes. She said in a whispered breath, “I’m going to see him
one last time.”

Carly didn’t wait for a response from
Chance, she raced upstairs, changed and they were on their way to
the McAllister all in record speed.

Carly walked up the wide steps of the
large house, immediately feeling the loss.

Inside, she moved past the entry table
in the foyer and glanced over the picture of her mother while she
was pregnant with Carly. It was her favorite. The next was of Carly
at the age of ten and she sat atop her favorite horse, Cranberry.
The photos usually compared to a gentle caress of a wonderful
memory, but nothing could surpass the pain in her chest.

She found Dr. Maxwell sitting in the
Italian leather chair beside the stone fireplace in the living
room.

Maxwell looked up in silent greeting.
His wrinkled face appeared frail as his gray eyes settled on her.
“What happened?” she asked.

“
Your father wasn’t feeling
well this afternoon and had asked me to stop by on my way home from
the office. When I got here, I found him hunched over his
desk.”

Carly wrapped her arms around her
midsection “What? How?”

“
I’m sorry, Carly. My best
guess is a heart attack,” he answered with a shake of his
head.

“
I want to see him.” She
glanced in the direction of the office.

“
Carly, that’s not
necessary,” Maxwell warned. “He had everything in order and I’ve
made the arrangements. Howler’s Funeral Home will be here soon to
pick him up. I also gave Rock Snider a call and he’s on his
way.”

Carly looked at him. Had she heard
right? “Rock? His attorney? Why?”

“
Not anything unusual for a
man of your father’s wealth. He wants to make sure everything
dealing with the McAllister is clear cut.”

“
I’m going in and seeing
him,” she stated again. She heard Maxwell say her name. She paid
him no attention as she brushed past Chance, eyeing him
inquisitively. Would he try to stop her, too?

Chance made no move to talk her out of
it. He only looked at her with understanding, sympathy and
support.

The office was dark and smelled of
leather and spice cologne. She reached for the light, but thought
better of it. The sliver of light coming through the open window
was enough for her to see his slumped figure across the top of his
desk. His gold watch gleamed in the moon’s pale light and his
snuffed-out cigar lay in the ashtray.

She remembered when she was a child.
She had raced into his office in anticipation, shouting excitedly
that she had found the prettiest butterfly and he should come see
it. She had found him slumped over and in childlike terror, she had
pounded on his arm calling repeatedly, “Daddy! Daddy!”

Her nanny heard her screams and came
bustling in to tear her away.

Now, although not at the time, she
knew he had drunk himself into a stupor. When he awakened, the
nanny told him what happened and he came to her bedroom where she
lay in bed, blankets over her head, sobbing. He had made a promise
to her. He swore it would never happen again.

She wasn’t a kid any longer and her
father wasn’t in a drunken stupor. He was gone. Gone forever. She
could not hide in her bed and wait for him to come and comfort
her.

“
I had to move him slightly
to check for a pulse.”

She jumped at the sound of Maxwell’s
voice. Her trembling hands went to her mouth but the sob still
escaped her. A hand touched her shoulder and Chance’s warmth soaked
through skin. She twisted on her heel and rushed into his
outstretched arms.

He held her for the longest time.
Comforting her with soft words against her ear and a supportive
hand on her back.

Chapter
Fourteen

CHANCE HELD CARLY’S shaking body and
his eyes misted over with tears. When Devon died, she had pushed
him away, resisting his every attempt to comfort her.

He didn’t know how much time had
passed, but he would have held her forever.

They had moved to the living room when
Rock Snider arrived. Snider, a stocky, professional looking man
with stern eyes, shot Carly a contrite expression before saying
hello to Chance.

Chance and Rock were good friends in
high school and the friendship lasted through the years. Snider had
a reputation for being a shark in court and was a legal guru. There
was subtle surprise in his expression when he saw Chance and Carly
sitting next to one another, for obvious reasons. He handled the
divorce.

Snider didn’t ask any questions, but
quickly got down to business. Chance trusted the man, but the more
people who got wind of their reunion the more possibility people
would begin to talk. The small town could leak the news and send a
whirlwind of speculation and gossip. He wanted more than anything
to protect Carly, especially now, with the loss of her
father.

He wondered how long it would take
Chris Whitfield to hear the news. Chance guessed Whitfield was
still out of town and had no clue of the situation. Harry never did
tell Chance
how
he took care of the other man.

When he found out about Harry’s
passing, would Whitfield fly back from wherever he stayed and tell
Carly the truth? Without Harry to block Whitfield, how would Chance
keep the man away from Carly?

“
Carly, I’m sorry. Your
father was a noble man and he certainly was a legend in these
parts. He’ll be remembered with fondness.” Snider’s face shifted
from personal involvement to a mask of professionalism. “Your
father has a notarized statement in the event of his death that he
wished to have no funeral service.”

Carly’s head snapped up. “What does
that mean? No service?”

Snyder sat down in one of the
leather-cushioned chairs, dug into his briefcase and pulled out a
plain yellow folder. “He made the changes recently.” Snider opened
the file, retrieved a certified looking document, and handed it to
her.

Carly glanced over the document.
“Rock, this is legal mumbo-jumbo.” She tossed it back toward him.
“My father is dead and what I want is for you to tell me what he
requested, not show me some form document. I’m tired and I don’t
feel like I am ready to face the legalities when my father is still
in the next room.”

“
Okay.” He stuck the paper
into the folder and jammed it brusquely back into the bag. “I’m
sorry I have to do this now, but it’s protocol. He asked me to draw
up papers listing his wishes upon his death. He wanted to be
cremated and placed in the vault next to your mother’s body. He
wanted no funeral services, no viewing, only for me to give you
this.”

He reached back into the briefcase and
pulled out several pieces of paper before shoving them back into
place. When he found the envelope he searched for, he smiled
apologetically. “These changes were made so recently. I haven’t had
the opportunity to file them in with his other legal documents at
the office.”

Chance laid a supportive hand on
Carly’s knee. “Rock, is this necessary?”

“
I’m afraid it is,” he
answered.

Chance eyed Carly’s profile and his
gut clenched. She could lose it any minute.

* * * *

Carly deliberately kept her gaze from
landing on Chance. If she saw his considerate expression, she’d
break down into tears and fall into him again for consolation. She
wanted to lean into him, and allow him to soothe her, but right
now, she needed to be strong. Her father had attached amendments to
his burial wishes and she couldn’t understand why.

She stared down at the envelope with
her name written neatly across the front in her father’s
penmanship. “I don’t understand. Why did he make these changes?
Father never mentioned them to me.”

Snider rolled a shoulder and flicked a
wrist toward the envelope she held. “He gave me the envelope when
he signed the papers. He didn’t explain why, only that I should
give it to you if something should happen and to tell you you’ll
know the right time to open it.” Then Snider turned his gaze to
Chance and back to Carly. “To assure you’ll take complete ownership
rights of the McAllister I need you to sign some forms. Can you
call me in a few days and set up an appointment?”

Carly’s eyes shot above Snider’s
shoulder where movement caught her attention. The two
business-suited men left with her father’s body, carried on a
gurney and covered with a plain white sheet. She got up and went to
the doorway, watching the men gently roll him into the awaiting
hearse.

Chance stepped behind her and she said
somberly, “So this is what happens when we die? We are carried away
to be disposed of.”

She held on tight to the doorframe,
her knuckles grew white. She would never see her father
again.

“
Chance, can I speak to you
a moment?” Doc Maxwell asked.

Carly acknowledged Chance’s
apprehension. “It’s okay, Chance.”

“
I’ll only be a moment,” he
said, squeezing her shoulder.