the tub. After undressing and filling the tub, she turned off the tap, settled back into the hot water and let her mind drift. It immediately went to Chance. He’d changed, but then didn’t everybody in twelve years? Cole had told her a couple of months ago that Chance had been wounded during a mission. She’d felt her blood turn cold as the shocking news had set in. No further information had been forthcoming, and all Holly could do was cling to the old belief that no news was good news. When Chance hadn’t appeared at his dad’s funeral, she’d just known something horrible had happened. She’d carried that fear for days, refusing to bother Cole or Wade during their time of grieving. If they got any news—good or bad—surely they would tell her. Then tonight when Chance walked into the clinic, the relief had been so overwhelming all she had been able to do was hold on to him and sob like a baby. He must’ve thought she’d turned into a total and complete dork.
Bath over, she pulled on an old blue T-shirt, checked on Emma once more and fell into bed. She smiled in the darkness. Chance had finally come home. That thought ran through her mind over and over again as though daring her to believe it. She’d almost reconciled herself to the idea he might never return. In a way, he hadn’t. At least not the old Chance she’d known all her life. When she’d hugged him, it was like hugging a warm pillar of marble. The small scar on his jaw added to his intensity. There was a fierceness in his eyes. His face denoted wisdom far beyond his years. Cole had once mentioned Chance was thriving in the navy, moving up in rank much more quickly than others. Once he set his mind to do it, she wasn’t surprised.
The rabble-rouser he’d been in his youth, the solitary bad boy, had been reshaped into a soldier: the best this country had to offer. He was big and dangerous and no doubt very capable. But while they may have redirected his spirit, no one would ever control it. It was that streak of wildness that made him who he was. His brothers didn’t have it. Just as their brown eyes would never be a hot icy-blue like Chance’s, their spirit would also never rival his. Chance had always been different, always found his own road. He’d found his place in life, a place he was meant to be. Unfortunately, it required him to put his life on the line each and every day, and that was something Holly wouldn’t let herself think about.
For the first time, she knew why the older girls had gone a little crazy those dozen or so years ago. It was not something Chance did purposely. It was just part of who he was. It was in his stride, his voice, his touch—in the way he presented himself. It was the way he looked at a woman, making her very much aware of her own femininity and what he could do with it.
Just being in his presence for a few amazing moments, she’d felt that silent challenge to come to him. If she did, instinct told her she would never be the same again. Before, she’d been a child and sexual attraction wasn’t even in the picture. Chance had seen her as a little sister. Now, as an adult, the look of male want in his eyes reinforced the fact that she was a woman in every sense of the word and he knew it. And her body had responded accordingly.
With a moan she rolled over onto her side. Despite the years of dreaming he would someday come back and she would be the one in his life, she couldn’t imagine this was her wish coming true. Reality had long since become her guide. Chance was home because he’d been wounded and needed a place to recuperate. Then he would once again be gone. Twelve years and her life had gone on. She needed to let go of the little-girl fantasies. The world had changed and so had they. It was sad in a way, but the happy memories from her childhood, made even better with the passage of time, would always remain close to her heart.
She couldn’t help but wonder if Chance would still enjoy working with new colts and riding out to check the fences or rounding up the calves for annual inoculations and electronic branding. Horses used to be his passion. More than likely he hadn’t had that opportunity in a long while.
He had also loved the river that ran for miles through the ranch land. Before Emma, she would often ride out to the place he loved the most, sit on the boulder that jutted out over the rushing water and try to imagine where he was and what he was doing. As the years rolled past, like fallen leaves carried out of sight by the waters in the stream, she’d had to accept she might never see Chance Masters again.
But he was here. She would see him. Tomorrow. She wouldn’t think any further into the future than that. She absolutely would not, on the day of his arrival, consider how hard it would be when he left yet again. He is here. She could touch him, talk to him face-to-face and have an opportunity to make some new memories.
She had to wonder how he was doing up in the big house. Suddenly being thrust into the lap of luxury probably wasn’t comfortable to him. While some dreamed of having even a tenth of the wealth of the Masters family, Chance had always shrugged it off, never wanting to talk about it. Holly imagined that the living accommodations he’d had for the past few years were vastly different from the mansion. Was he sleeping? Was the fact he was at the ranch making him restless? Or maybe he normally kept different hours, awake at night and asleep during the day.
If she didn’t get to sleep pretty soon, she might go down to the barn. Anything beat tossing and turning in this bed. And if Chance Masters couldn’t sleep, the barn was where he would be.
“I’m not saying you have to leave the SEALs and transition into the corporation,” Wade defended himself. “I’m just saying I think that’s what Dad would have wanted.”
How in hell could Chance argue about something neither he nor his older brother could prove or deny? His father had said nothing about time frames the day he’d told Chance he was washing his hands of his youngest son and his outrageous behavior. He’d strongly suggested Chance join a branch of the military before he ended up in prison. So he’d enlisted in the SEAL program. He very much doubted his dad cared if he ever laid eyes on his youngest son again—and he never did—let alone expected him to slide into an executive position in the billion-dollar conglomerate upon his death. Apparently Wade hadn’t been told everything that had gone down that day in their father’s office. And tonight at least, Chance wasn’t about to enlighten him.
Wade had taken to the role of CEO in the corporation as easily as downing the first cold beer after working the cattle chutes on a hundred-and-ten-degree day. As chief financial officer, Cole had pretty much had the same experience. But corporate America had never appealed to Chance. Not when he was younger. And damn sure not now.
“It’s always been a family business,” Wade continued. “When his brother died, Dad carried on by himself. And he did pretty damn good. I think it was always his intention that his sons would join him.”
The kitchen staff entered to remove the empty dinner plates, inquire about dessert and offer more coffee. Chance nodded and pushed the twenty-two-carat gold-rimmed cup toward the man standing to his left. He knew the family saga. He didn’t have to hear it again. It was painfully ironic to him that their dad had devoted his entire life to building a dynasty for a family he’d all but ignored for the sake of building it. Wade could call it what he wanted, but that was screwed up. And from what Chance could see, Wade was going to be just like their father. He just hadn’t as yet met a woman who would put up with it. It was a bit disconcerting to think of the type of woman who would.
“Why don’t you take a day and fly into Dallas with us while you’re here.” It didn’t sound like a request to Chance, but he let it go. “Take a look at some facts and figures and get an idea of what Masters Corporation, Ltd., is about. What we do. What we are trying to achieve.”
Wade seemed impervious to the fact that Chance already had a company. It was the US Navy. And for the life of him, Chance didn’t know how to get that across without an out-and-out clash that might leave one, or both, wounded inside. Now was definitely not the time to go there.
“No problem,” Chance agreed and stood up from his chair, ready to get out of this room and check out something that did interest him: the ranch. “Name the day and let’s do it.”
It wasn’t that he had no concern or curiosity for the business. He would be glad to have an inside look at what had provided income for all the Masterses exceedingly well