What A Rancher Wants. Sarah M. Anderson

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СКАЧАТЬ sure did appreciate her putting it in those terms, as opposed to mentioning that he was also the lead suspect in Alex’s disappearance.

      Not that she needed to. Rodrigo’s eyes blazed with an undisguised hatred at Chance’s name. “¿Qué está haciendo aquí?” he snarled as Gabriella went to stand next to her father. Chance felt Joaquin come up behind him; probably just close enough to grab Chance if he made a funny move.

      What was Chance doing here? Rodrigo must not be as perceptive as his daughter. Gabriella had assumed that Chance spoke Spanish, but Rodrigo had incorrectly assumed Chance did not. So he said, “Hola, Señor del Toro. Alex hablaba bien de usted.” Alex spoke well of you.

      Or at least, that’s what he hoped he’d said. Alex had always spoken in crisp English, much the way Gabriella did. Chance had never had private tutors, unless one counted the hired hands on the ranch—and they’d spent more time teaching him to cuss in Spanish than to make polite greetings.

      When this didn’t get him shot, he added in his most polite business voice that he had come to see Alex. And he made damn sure not to flinch in Joaquin’s direction when the big man huffed. This would be a bad time to show any sign of nerves or fear. So Chance kept his face calm and his gaze steady. He may be a cowboy, by God, but he was a McDaniel and no one—not even Rodrigo del Toro—was going to stare him down.

      Then he saw the corners of Gabriella’s mouth curve into a small smile. Even if Rodrigo hated his guts, at the very least, Chance had said what she’d wanted to hear.

      “You are not welcome in this house,” Rodrigo said, switching back to English. His accent was thicker, less crisp—but his words flowed easily.

      “Papa,” Gabriella said as she put a hand on his arm.

      “Gabriella,” he shot back. She pulled her hand away and cast her gaze to the ground. “You are not welcome in this house,” he repeated, his voice a notch louder.

      That did it. Chance could handle a man trying to bullshit him, but to speak to his daughter in such a callous manner? Nope. Not happening. “Last I heard, this was still Alex’s house and I’d bet dollars to doughnuts that I’ve spent more time here than you have. I’m welcome here until Alex says otherwise.” He saw the look of alarm on Gabriella’s face. “Señor,” he said in his most dismissive voice.

      Still, he wasn’t stupid. He’d worn out his welcome in a big way. Before Joaquin could grab him by the scruff of his neck, he snatched his hat off the side table. “Ms. del Toro, it was a pleasure to meet you.” He then turned to Joaquin and was unsurprised to see the man’s fists swinging by his sides. “Keep up the good work, Joaquin.”

      He heard footsteps behind him and tensed, expecting a blow of some kind. He was surprised, however, when Gabriella slipped past him to reach the door before him. She opened it and stood to the side with a confused look on her face. “I will tell Alejandro you stopped by,” she said.

      Chance glanced back over his shoulder. Joaquin was fewer than five feet away—for a big man, he could move like a cat when he wanted to, apparently. Rodrigo del Toro had not moved from the doorway, though. He stood there with his arms crossed, glaring as if he possessed laser vision or something. Chance couldn’t help himself. He tipped his hat to the older man, knowing it’d piss him off.

      Then he turned back to Gabriella. “I hope he won’t be too mad.” That got him a worried smile telling him exactly how bad Rodrigo would be after he left. “Call me for anything. The offer to ride stands.”

      She did not meet his gaze, but he saw the delicate pink that rushed to her cheeks.

      “Gabriella,” Rodrigo roared.

      “Goodbye, Mr. McDaniel.” She shut the door behind him.

      Chance walked out to his truck and then turned to look at Alex’s house. He didn’t see Alex’s face in any of the upper windows.

      He had a feeling he’d be hearing from Gabriella. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow—but soon. The way her eyes had lit up when he’d talked about riding the range? Yeah, she was going to call—especially if she was stuck in that house with a silent shadow of a bodyguard and a raging father. Not to mention a brother who didn’t remember her.

      He hoped Gabriella was as good as her word and told Alex that Chance had come by.

      That would make her better than her brother.

      Because as of now, his word meant nothing to Chance.

      Three

      It took four days before Chance’s cell phone rang. He’d just gotten back to the barn from checking on the ponds for the cattle. When his phone rang, it played Alex’s ringtone. For a moment Chance thought it was Alex; that he had his memory back, that he wanted to tell Chance about everything—which may or may not include his sister.

      He handed Ranger, his horse, to Marty and grabbed his phone out of its holster. “Hello?”

      “Ah, yes—Mr. McDaniel?”

      Gabriella’s soft voice flowed around him. Chance was simultaneously disappointed that it wasn’t Alex and thrilled that she’d called. “I told you to call me Chance, Gabriella.”

      There was something of an awkward pause. He could almost see her trying to decide if she was going to call him what he wanted her to. Because he sure as hell wanted to hear what her accent would do with his name.

      But it didn’t look as if it was going to happen right now, so he redirected the conversation. “Any change in Alex?”

      “No. He is still...resting.” She sounded not awesome, frankly. Tired and worried, but underneath that, he could hear frustration. She was doing a damn fine job hiding it, but he could still tell.

      “Is your father still mad at me?”

      “Papa is only concerned with Alejandro’s well-being.” Her answer came without hesitation. In fact, it almost sounded as though she’d rehearsed it.

      He grinned. That was a yes, loud and clear. “So, you need to get out of the house for a while? I’ve got a beauty of a quarter horse named Nightingale that’d love to ride you around.”

      She didn’t say anything at first, but he heard her sigh—a sound of relief. Oh, yeah—he had her.

      His mind hurried to put images with the sounds coming across his phone. He could see her full, red lips slightly parted as she exhaled, see her thick lashes fluttering at the thought of going for a ride with him.

      Then, because apparently he enjoyed torturing himself, his mind turned those images in a different direction—her smooth hair all mussed up against a pillow as he coaxed little noises out of her. As she rode him.

      He went hard in his jeans at the thought.

      “You said you had a mule for Joaquin?”

      “Yup.” Chance walked down the aisle of his barn and stopped in front of Beast’s stall. The animal was a giant mule that came from a donkey crossed with a draft horse. Beast’s mother had been a Belgian, which meant he was a solid seventeen hands high and built like a tank.

      Chance СКАЧАТЬ