Page 11 of Chance (Wild River Ranch #3)

J oy awoke, realizing she had died and gone to heaven. The light surrounding her was too bright for anything else. She hadn’t been certain heaven was real, but now she guessed it was. It kind of shocked her she’d made the cut to get in, though.

Her eyes felt scratchy, as if she had slept in sand. A throbbing pain pulsated through her head, and her ears felt like they were submerged underwater. She opened her mouth as wide as she could in an attempt to pop them and nearly screamed.

She tried to scream, actually, but no sound came out. It was like she was the victim in every horror movie she’d ever watched. She would have tried again if it weren’t for the razor blades shredding the inside of her throat. Swallowing her saliva hurt. Breathing hurt.

She whimpered, but that made her throat hurt even worse. Tears stung her eyes. She wanted to move, to escape the pain, but her body felt like it was made of lead. Moving required too much effort. She didn’t have the energy.

She couldn’t be in heaven and hurt this badly.

So, where was she? Turning her head to the side, she realized she was lying in a bed large enough to hold her and five other people.

She blinked her eyes a few times to bring the bedroom into focus.

A bedroom that wasn’t hers. Bit by bit, things began to come back to her.

Things like how Chance had picked her up and brought her to the ranch.

The wooden walls gleamed in the sunlight.

From the faint scent of Christmas in the room, she guessed they were cedar.

A window occupied almost the entire wall on her left, which explained the brightness.

The clear blue sky she’d come to expect from Wyoming filled the window, showcasing the snow-capped peaks of the Rockies in the distance.

Even with an aching throat and extreme weakness, she couldn’t help but be glad she was here.

When she didn't feel so awful, she’d worry about whose room she was in. And why. Like she didn’t already know. No, this room screamed grumpy, controlling cowboy. Once her immune system wasn’t trying to kill her, no doubt she’d be more appreciative of her surroundings.

Slowly, since any movement of her head made the room spin and the last thing she wanted was to vomit in the middle of the bed, she turned to study the seating area near the window and froze.

Chance Daniels lay on the bed next to her, eyes closed and breathing steadily. Every sexy, muscled inch of him. How could something between her thighs pulse when she felt so bad?

“Holy hotness on a cloud,” she said, unable to keep the words inside.

A new memory, one of him holding her as she fought the pain and fever until she drifted off to sleep, formed in her mind. Would a mean, grumpy cowboy do that? Probably not.

“Good morning to you, too, gypsy,” he said without opening his eyes. “How’re you feelin’?”

His voice was raspy and delicious. It made her want to lick him. Instead of doing that, she focused on returning his greeting, wishing him good morning, too.

But what came out was “I need to pee.”

Oh sure. Now her voice worked. Sort of. And when it did, that was what came out of her mouth. At least she was still whispering. Maybe he didn’t hear her.

Even though she willed him to go back to sleep, he opened his eyes, allowing her to study them. As a photographer, she had seen a lot of eyes. But she’d never seen anyone with eyes the same deep, vivid blue. The color of the sky at sunset. His pupils had a darker ring around the outer rim.

He smiled, and her throat stopped hurting quite so badly. She thought he’d worked some sort of magic until spots floated before her eyes, and she realized she’d stopped breathing. Gasping for air, she fought back the dizziness and tried to throw back the covers.

Instantly, he was on his feet. “Be still, and I’ll come around to your side of the bed and help you.”

How did he move so fast? Weren’t giants supposed to be lumbering?

Even with his help, it drained most of her energy to swing her legs off the side of the bed once he moved the covers. When he pointed to the bathroom door, she almost cried. It was only across the room, but it might as well have been a thousand miles away.

Placing one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, he lifted her off the bed. “I’ve got you, babygirl. Just let me take care of you.”

Even while he did all the work, the room swayed as he carried her to the bathroom. He shushed her when she whimpered as he took her all the way to the toilet, pulled down her panties, and helped her sit. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed, little one. Everyone needs help from time to time.”

Too embarrassed for words, she just sat there, unable to even get started. Just when she had given up, he turned on the water in the sink. That did the trick, and she was finally able to pee.

Trying to block out the entire situation, she glanced down and realized she was wearing a man’s T-shirt.

Although she wasn’t short, when she stood up after finishing, the bottom of the T-shirt fell almost to her knees.

It was black and featured a large red barn across the chest. A sign reading The Red Barn hung over the building’s double doors.

Above and below the barn were the words “What Happens In The Barn - Stays In The Barn.”

Wait. Someone had undressed her. Had he undressed her? Peering down the neck of the T-shirt, she saw nothing but skin. She only thought she’d been embarrassed to pee. It was nothing compared to the thought of him seeing her naked.

She was in so much trouble. Again. And this time, it was all her fault.

She should have followed the plan Detective James had given her. Instead, she stopped checking in and tried to disappear. It would have been so much better for everyone to believe she was dead. Well, the joke was on her because she almost had been.

That was still a good plan. She needed to disappear again, only do a better job of it.

Even though Chance was a grumpy, gorgeous, probably Daddy man who had scared her and made her fall, she didn’t want him or his family hurt or exposed to any danger.

Especially since she now knew exactly how dangerous Eddie could be.

Her mother used to say she got a wild hair and acted the fool. A twinge of guilt pinched her chest. Guess that was something she’d never outgrow.

Of course, she couldn’t say any of that to Chance. He’d made it clear she was going to be right there for a few more days.

“Come on, Little gypsy, let’s get you back in bed.

” Within minutes, she was back in bed, sheets tucked in tight, cocooning her in warmth.

He picked up two large brown medicine bottles from the coffee table in the sitting area and brought them to her side of the bed.

He must have noticed something on her face because he asked, “Are you all right, babygirl?”

Joy smiled as best she could, even though it hurt her throat, and lied. “Yes,” she whispered.

He studied her, and a line formed between his eyebrows as they came together. “Rule number one. Do not lie. Ever.”

Rules? He was giving her rules? That was outrageous, right? So why did it send a pulse of excitement through her?

But now she felt trapped. She didn’t want to tell the truth. Yet, she was a good girl—well, as much as she could be—so she couldn’t lie. She chose option three and got angry.

“I didn’t lie,” she snapped, then winced.

His brows went up, and he leaned forward, resting his hands on the mattress to look her in the eye. “Come again?”

She nibbled her lip then studied her fingernails. “I said I didn’t lie,” she lied again.

“You’re pale as a ghost, and you sound like a frog.”

“Well, I’m better than I was.” Man, this lying thing was hard.

“You don’t sound better than you did at the Friendsgiving.”

“We will have to agree to disagree.”

Narrowing his eyes, he nodded slowly. “For now. But we’ll be revisiting this conversation when you’re better. Along with a few other things.”

After retrieving a spoon, he picked up the medicine and read the label. Liquid medicine. How had he known she struggled to swallow pills? And that was even without a sore throat. He poured a dose of thick amber liquid from the first bottle.

Yeah. She hoped he liked the taste because she wasn’t going to try a spoonful of something that reminded her of molasses. Just the thought of swallowing it sent a shiver of disgust down her spine.

He held out the spoon without spilling a drop. What would happen if she knocked the spoon from his hand? He couldn’t exactly make her lick it off the floor.

“I know what you’re thinkin’, naughty girl.

Your bottom will never survive cashing that check.

You have two options, and I don’t care which you choose.

You can swallow this medicine like a big girl and chase it down with a juice box.

Or I can roll you over onto your tummy and put the medicine in your bottom using the suppositories Doc Bradford left. ”

She gasped, tears welling in her eyes. “He did not!”

“Oh, he absolutely did. You are not the first stubborn Little patient he’s dealt with. He’s been a doctor here in Wilder for a long time. Now, which is it to be? This medicine is going in one end or the other.”

How had she come to this? “Why can’t I take a pill?” she demanded, her relief at not having to swallow one a thing of the past.

“First of all, your throat is too raw and swollen. Doc Bradford was worried you’d choke. Second, pills are not for Little girls like you.”

He knew! How did he know? “I never said I was a Little.”

“Of course you did, sweetie. You told me the minute you showed up at the Friendsgiving celebration wearin’ bright pink, unicorn combat boots and pigtails in your hair.”

“They’re called angel wings, thank you very much.”

His lips twitched. “I beg your pardon. Angel wings.”

Wait. Had she just given herself away? Again?

She didn’t see that she had much choice. There was no way he was sticking anything in her bottom. Still, she couldn’t make it too easy for him.

“What kind of juice box?” As a stalling technique, it wasn’t the best. But it would have to do. She wasn’t about to swallow goopy medicine for just any flavored juice box. Even a girl with a super sore throat had standards .

Chance didn’t miss a beat. “Apple juice or white grape?”

In the snootiest tone a frog could manage, she said, “I find your terms acceptable. I’d like apple juice, please.”

Once he retrieved the juice from the kitchenette in his suite, he poured another spoonful of the yucky medicine. With the juice box in hand, she held her nose and opened her mouth.

It turned out that the medicine wasn’t very thick and tasted like lemon drops. She loved lemon drops. Still, she shuddered and made a face anyway, just so he wouldn’t know he was right.

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “See, not as bad as you thought. Let’s get you back under the covers. I can tell you’re getting tired. Doc Bradford said not to overdo it.”

She hadn’t fooled him at all. If he wasn’t a Daddy, he ought to be. She’d love a Daddy like Chance.

“I’m not tired. I just woke up.” Yeah, that would have been more effective if it hadn’t ended in a yawn.

“I know. Just humor me.”

Lucky for him, she was starting to feel lightheaded. And sleepy, although she’d never admit it. As he adjusted her covers, something struck her. “How did I get here?” she asked.

“When you passed out in my arms, I carried you to my truck and drove you to the lodge.”

“No.” She battled against sleep and tried once more. “I’m talking about this room. It belongs to you, right? How did I end up here?” The pain in her throat was excruciating but she really wanted to know.

“The same way I did, gypsy. Up the stairs. I brought you up here after the doctor left. You needed watchin’ over by someone, and I decided it was going to be me. I brought you to my room so I’d be right here if you need anything. As long as you’re on my ranch, I’m in charge.”

He stared down at her, all stern and Daddy-like, as if he expected her to object.

And maybe if she felt better, she would have.

But somehow, she didn’t think so. He just stepped up and took charge, but it was always for the good of those he considered his.

If he wanted her to be one of those people, even for a short time, she wasn’t about to say no.

There was just something about him. He could be gruff, but he was always good. From what the people at the Friendsgiving had said, he cared about the people. He’d keep her safe, and she hadn’t felt safe in a long time.

And he was so fun to tease. “Did you change my clothes, too?”

“Yep, but don’t you worry, babygirl. Daddy’s gonna take care of you. Besides, it ain’t nothin’ I haven’t seen before,” he answered, as if he did things like that all the time.

Maybe he did. Maybe he’d brought a lot of Littles up to his room and taken care of them. She probably wasn’t special at all.

She had never been special to anyone. She was used to it.

But it sure would have been nice to be special to Chance.

Chance watched over Joy as she drifted off to sleep. She could be quite the Little spitfire when she was under the weather, couldn’t she? He smiled. That was one Little girl who’d give her Daddy a run for his money.

No problem, he’d had plenty of practice dealing with spitfires thanks to Kenzie. Those two would be fast friends. Add in Tildi and there was no telling what they’d be up to. All the Daddies would have to stay sharp. But he could handle his Little gypsy just fine.

Except she wasn’t his. He was pretty sure she’d never want to be. Not when she really got to know him and everything he needed from her.

But she could be as sweet as a coltsfoot blossom in winter when she wanted to be. The way her face lit up when she was happy.

Someone needed to warn her about her smiles. She handed them out far too freely. Her kind of smile, the one that lit up her entire body, should be reserved for the people who meant the most to her.

Reserved just for him, that was. If he saw her smile at some other man that way, he might just have to kill him.