A Baby by Chance (24 page)

Chance looked away a long moment and shook his head. He was no fool. Never had been. Yet the way she still had him wanting to believe was damn near amazing. Or maybe just downright foolish, he thought self-effacingly.

“This is your account,” Chance pointed out evenly. “That memo Shawna gave me had your name on it. How did that happen if you had nothing to do with it?”

“I don’t know,” Madison returned evenly, still holding her ground. “But I’m going to find out.”

Chance grimaced and turned away. “You do that.”

Madison dashed after him, stumbling on the uneven ground.

He reached out to steady her. As always, he liked the feel of her soft, feminine form in his hands a little too much for his own good.

“Chance, I’m not going back until we’ve worked this out,” she insisted stubbornly, leaning into, instead of away from, his touch.

Reluctantly, he let her go. “Like heck you’re not,” he growled, and strode toward the cab. He reached in, got the ignition keys and pocketed them. Then he picked up the cell phone on the dash and handed it to her. “Call someone and have them come here and get you,” he ordered gruffly, knowing if he stayed much longer he was going to end up kissing her. That had been their downfall from the start.

She gaped at him. “You’re not going to leave me stranded!” Her posture was stiff and defensive.

“I’m not going to let you follow me off-road, either,” Chance replied roughly as he gave her one last quelling look. “It’s too dangerous for you and the baby. Meanwhile, I need some time alone.” And whether she liked it or not, he was taking it.

Madison swallowed. “How much?” Her eyes were awash with regret and frustration.

As much as he damn well needed, Chance thought. Ignoring her beseeching look, he pivoted away from her. “I’ll let you know.”

CHAPTER NINE

“I
DON’T UNDERSTAND
how this happened,” Madison said, holding the crumpled papers Chance had given her.

“It’s my fault,” Shawna said, trying not to cry. “The day you got sick? The publicist from AMV called, wanting to talk to you. She’d been unable to get ahold of Kit in Dallas—I guess Kit had the afternoon off to do something with her sons. Anyway, the publicist said she had lined everything up, and they wanted to make sure that you and Chance had plenty of time to plan for the scheduled events. I told her that I’d make sure you and Chance both got a copy of the schedule as soon as she sent it to us. So when it came in this morning’s mail pouch, I just took it right over to Chance.” The young intern’s lower lip trembled. “I didn’t know he didn’t know yet. I thought—the way you two were getting along—that everything was fine! It was all arranged.” Shawna twisted her hands. “Nobody told me there was a problem.”

“It’s okay, Shawna,” Madison said gently, putting a hand up to stop the flow of distressed words. “I know you didn’t mean to do anything wrong. But from now on, please, clear everything with me first before you ask Chance anything.”

“I will. I promise.” Shawna wiped her eyes with a tissue. “I really am sorry.”

“I know you are.” Having made her own share of mistakes at the intern level, Madison patted Shawna’s shoulder gently as more tears splashed down the young woman’s face. “It’s okay. It will work out.”

Ed and Ursula, seeing Madison, walked over. Ed looked straight at Shawna, murmured a word of comfort to the young intern, then sent her on her way before he turned to Madison. “Get everything straightened out with Chance?”

Madison drew a deep breath. “I’m working on it.”

Ursula, who was no doubt thinking about what this was costing the AMV Corporation, compressed her lips disapprovingly. “I expected you to bring Chance back with you.”

So had Madison. She met Ursula’s gaze equably. “He needed some time to think.”

“How much time?” Ursula bit the words out.

Madison gulped. With the whole crew standing around waiting, she couldn’t afford to fudge. “I don’t know.” She turned and looked at Ed beseechingly. “Maybe we should talk to Vince and get some more film of the ranch and the horses without Chance while we’re waiting.”

“This is a complete waste of time,” Ursula fumed, looking angrier by the second. “And on my company’s dollar!”

“Connelly and Associates will absorb the expenses if the day turns out to be fruitless. I don’t think it will,” Ed said smoothly.

“After all,” Madison improvised, “we don’t have Chance but we still have the pastures and the house and the stables and all those beautiful new Ranchero trucks. We can shoot plenty of film of the trucks today. And without Chance here to get in the way, it might even go better than usual.”

Ursula could not argue with that. “Fine,” she snapped, putting a hand to her perfectly coiffed jet black hair. “But if this happens again—” She looked at Madison warningly.

“It won’t,” Madison reassured her smoothly.

“See that it doesn’t. Because to my way of thinking, if you can’t handle the talent, you’ve got no business handling the account!” Ursula stalked off to speak to Vince.

Madison turned to her boss.

“I agree with her,” Ed said shortly. “You need to get this fixed. Pronto! Before the client walks.”

Ed stormed after Ursula. A trembling Shawna brought Madison a cup of fresh lemonade from the catering truck. “Are they very mad?” she asked nervously.

“Very. As they should be,” Madison said glumly. Feeling as if she were going to collapse if she didn’t sit down, she went on the porch and sat on the swing.

“Are you feeling fluish again?” Shawna asked.

Madison shook her head. Just sick at heart.

“I’m just frustrated, that’s all.” Madison sipped a little of the icy lemonade, all too aware of the gathering heat. Judging by the temperature and the amount of humidity in the air, it was going to be another scorcher.

Looking a little more composed, Shawna perched on the porch railing opposite her. “With Chance?” she asked.

“With everything.” Madison sighed as she looked at the activity going on in the yard. Vince was pointing and gesturing to the crew. The grips and technicians were positioning lights and Ranchero pickups in front of the stables.

“Can I ask you something?” Shawna asked after a moment.

Madison nodded.

“Is it always so, well, tense around here?”

Madison looked at Shawna, knowing she should be honest about what lay ahead of the industrious young intern if she chose this line of work. “Yeah, I’m afraid it is,” Madison said bluntly. “Advertising is a cutthroat business to begin with. And when you work for a big, important agency like Connelly and Associates, where large amounts of money are at stake, you have to be prepared to face a lot of pressure on a daily—hourly—basis from your bosses and your clients.”

Madison stretched her legs in front of her, knowing for the baby’s sake she had to take a fifteen-minute break in the shade or risk fainting again. “As for what happened this morning,” she continued, taking another sip of her drink, “Ed and Ursula were right to be peeved with me.” Madison scanned the horizon for any sight of Chance and Shiloh, but to her disappointment saw none.

She sighed. “I should have taken care of the trade show thing days ago.” And would have, she amended silently, if she hadn’t been pregnant with Chance’s baby. And attracted to him. And wary of rocking the boat. And distracted from her work. And so many other things. “But I didn’t, and—well...” Madison turned to Shawna with a self-deprecating shrug. “You can see what happened this morning as a result.”

“But that was my fault!” Shawna protested.

Not entirely, Madison thought grimly. “It could easily have come from someone else. I knew what was expected of me. In fact, I had a conversation with Kit about this a few days ago.” And then promptly forgot all about it. “The bottom line is I didn’t deliver.” And that was a first. In the past, Madison hadn’t let anything get in the way of her work. Because it was her work—and her success at it—that had sustained her. But now, without even realizing it, her priorities were shifting. Becoming more personal. Less business-oriented.

“But you’re still going to be the next vice president at the agency, aren’t you?” Shawna asked anxiously. She leaned forward and laid a hand across her heart. “I mean, my goof won’t prevent that from happening for you, will it?”

For one fleeting moment, Madison wasn’t even sure if she wanted the vice presidency. At least not the way she had before she’d gotten involved with Chance. Getting the position would mean devoting one hundred percent of her time to business, so that things like this did not occur. Being a VP would mean her life was going to be one long stress-filled day after another, Madison realized wearily, rubbing the tension headache starting in her temples. And so was her baby’s.

“Madison? Are you okay? Should I get you something else? Some orange juice, maybe, instead of lemonade? Or some aspirin?”

“I’m fine.” Madison said, holding up her hand. For her baby’s sake, she had to be. She just needed to stay on track, that was all.

Her priorities and her thinking straight once again, Madison stood. Chance might not be back yet, but she knew what she had to do, what she should have done all along. Her movements brisk and decisive, Madison turned to Shawna. “Would you do me a favor and ask Ed and Ursula to meet with me inside the ranch house ASAP? I’ve got something important I need to go over with them.”

* * *

H
OURS LATER
, M
ADISON
was curled up on the porch swing, a light summer sweater thrown across her shoulders to ward off the evening chill, when she saw Chance ride across the pasture. Her heart beating rapidly, she pushed wearily to her feet and headed for the stables. By the time she got there, Chance was standing in the aisle, caring for Shiloh.

His back to her, he routinely went about the task of unsaddling his horse and putting him away for the night. “If you’re expecting me to say I’m wrong about the trade shows, you’re going to be waiting a long time,” he said gruffly, rubbing the big black stallion down before he led him into his stall. Chance added water and feed, then shut the door.

He turned to Madison, his hot glance skimming her face. He slipped his hands into the back pockets of his dusty jeans. He was sunburned and sweaty, but not nearly as exhausted as she would have been had she been out riding the range most of the day. “If you expect me to say I was wrong about taking off like that, in a fit of temper, you’d be right.” Chance grabbed the saddle, blanket, bridle, reins and saddlebag he’d hung over the stall door and headed for the tack room, where he routinely went about putting those away, too. “I should have stayed. But if I had, there’s no telling what I might have said, I was so ticked off. And that being the case, I decided to head out.”

Madison lounged in the doorway of the tack room, determined to finish this discussion, whether he wanted to or not. “I’m sorry.”

He looked at her, some of the anger gone, all his disappointment still intact.

“And you don’t have to worry about the trade shows anymore,” Madison continued, trying not to react to the simmering contempt she saw in his eyes. “I had a meeting with Ed and Ursula. They agreed to back off about that. Permanently.”

Finally, she’d said something that registered. “How did you manage that?” Chance washed up at the sink.

Madison watched as he blotted his sinewy forearms and hands with a towel, then hung it on the rack. “I told them it would be a lot more effective if they allowed you to be a gorgeous man of mystery in the commercials. The focus needs to be on the product, not you and your horses. Besides, when it comes to public speaking, it’s possible you could bomb at trade shows. It’d be so much better to have a public-relations professional do that for us.”

“And they agreed?”

“Once they thought about it? Absolutely.” Now she just had to come up with a dynamite pitch person that the AMV Corporation would love more than Chance—not an
easy task.

He swept off his hat, raked his hand through his hair and settled the hat on his head. “Thanks for taking care of that.”

I only wish I’d done it sooner,
Madison thought. Then they could have averted all this. “You’re welcome,” she said simply.

Without warning, Chance began to relax. “I’m sorry I blew up at you.” He shook his head and crossed to her side, took her elbow and switched off the light.

As he guided her toward the end of the stable, then into the dusky light, Madison realized with relief that everything was going to be all right. She’d made a mistake. He’d been ticked off at her, and justifiably so. She’d taken action to correct the situation. And now he’d forgiven her. And was—judging from the look on his face—willing to let it all go.

Knowing they had that in them—the potential to disagree heatedly without their relationship falling apart completely—was more comforting than she could have imagined.

“This whole business of having so many people constantly underfoot is beginning to get to me.” Chance’s voice was more relaxed as they crossed the yard to the front porch.

“I understand.” Madison sighed. Another gorgeous sunset of red, pink, lavender and purple streaked the smoky blue-gray of the evening sky. Birds sang. And the soft scent of sage hung in the air as a breeze whisked away what remained of the day’s heat and humidity. Madison shook her head. “When the whole crew is here, cell phones going off everywhere, Vince shouting directions that almost no one understands, everyone running to and fro and getting crabby as can be, it’s as if I brought Dallas with me.”

“You say that as if you don’t like Dallas.” Chance took her hand and led her up the steps.

Madison paused at the edge of the porch. She tilted her face to his as she confessed, “I have to admit I’ve liked working on the creative aspects of the project—which are always my favorite part, anyway—out here on the ranch in an environment of peace and quiet.”

“Have you ever thought of living and working anywhere but Dallas?” Chance asked. He settled on the porch railing. Taking her hands, he drew her to his side.

Madison perched on the railing, too. “After the day I had today, it has occurred to me to try and do something less stressful,” Madison quipped. But she also knew her work was a very big part of who she was. “Besides,” she said lightly, looking at their tightly twined fingers and trying to ignore the growing knot of emotion in her throat, “you wouldn’t find me anywhere near as attractive if I weren’t a successful career woman.”