Page 16 of Spilling the Tea

She lowered her head, and when she did, she swore she heard her husband’s voice saying, “You will do what you’ve always done, Fee. The right thing.”

***

Chance couldn’t sleep and knew what was bothering him. Zoey Pritchard. How had he allowed her to get next to him? Today, he had done something he’d never done other than to one of his relatives. Namely, invite a woman to his home. A logical explanation would be because of her circumstances, which were the most bizarre he’d ever heard.

Knowing her situation was true and not a fabrication of her imagination, he pulled himself up in bed. Reaching over, he switched on the lamp on his nightstand, bringing light into the room. Why did a surge of sensations swamp him whenever he thought of her? Like now. Like ever since she’d left his ranch earlier. When his men returned to update him on today’s activities, his mind had drifted. It had been years since any womanhad caused that to happen. He’d believed he’d grown way beyond such madness. Obviously not.

He would call her first thing in the morning and renege on the invitation if he had any sense. He would tell her he would be busy the remainder of this week and the rest of the next. He would be amenable to doing that if he didn’t remember the last smile she’d given him. It had been filled with so much appreciation and gratitude; there was no way he could deny her the one thing she now needed more than anything. A chance to discover a past she desperately needed to know about.

Chance would try calling his great-grandmother again in the morning, too. He’d called earlier, and she hadn’t picked up. That was unusual. She loved it when her grands or great-grands called to check on her. The old gal must have been busy and gone to bed early. That shouldn’t surprise him since today had been Bingo Day at the senior citizen center. There was no way she would have missed going to that.

Reaching over to turn off the lamp, he intended to get some sleep tonight, no matter what. Closing his eyes, he tried to settle into a comfortable position. Suddenly, his eyes flew open, and he sat up when he remembered why Zoey’s features were familiar. Turning back on the lamp, he got out of bed and slipped into the pair of pajama bottoms he kept nearby.

Dismissing from his mind that what he was looking for could wait until morning, he negotiated down the darkened hallway to the stairs that led to his attic. He muttered a curse when one of his toes came into contact with the bottom of a broken baluster. He’d forgotten the damn thing needed fixing since he barely had reason to go into his attic. He was certain he hadn’t been up there more than a few times since buying the house.

Opening the door to the attic, he switched on the light, knowing exactly what he was looking for. This room contained what he’d considered junk that the previous owners hadleft. The stuff he’d intended to get rid of but hadn’t found the time to do so.

Moving several items around, he saw the huge portrait in the corner covered in cloth to protect it from dust and other elements. He recalled uncovering it one day, looking at it, recovering it, and not giving it another thought until tonight.

He quickly uncovered the portrait and stood stunned at what he’d revealed. It was that of a woman who had to have been no more than twenty-one at the time, and she bore a striking resemblance to Zoey. Or, more precisely, Zoey bore a striking resemblance to her. She was standing by that huge tree in his front yard, and the ranch house was captured in the background. He could tell the painting had been commissioned work.

He doubted the woman was Zoey’s mother since the painting had to have been done over fifty years ago. This had to be Zoey’s grandmother, whose last name was Martin. Something else suddenly caught his eye. The necklace the woman wore was the same one Zoey was wearing.

Chance had to tell Zoey about what he’d discovered. He couldn’t wait to see her happiness when he showed it to her on Thursday. It then occurred to him that he wouldn’t be showing it to her since he’d made plans to be away from the ranch that day. Knowing this might be a missing piece in reclaiming her memory, he didn’t want to delay letting her know. That meant he would call and tell her tomorrow.

Tomorrow…

Rubbing a hand down his face, he drew in a deep breath. He would only ask for trouble if he reached out to her tomorrow. She would want to see it immediately. That meant coming to his ranch, and they would be alone. The thought of him being close to her curvy body, staring into her beautiful face, and inhaling her arousing scent was way too much to take on.

Why? He’d been attracted to women before, and when the time came, he had no problem backing away. Another questionhe should ask was why he kept having this same conversation with himself. He should admit that deep down, although he didn’t know everything there was to know about her, he had a feeling Dr. Zoey Pritchard was getting under his skin. He would admit it and then come up with a solution to deal with it.

One that readily came to mind was introducing her to one of his cousins. Plenty of single ones would appreciate getting involved with her while she was in town. Corbin readily came to mind. His cousin wouldn’t have to worry about Mama Laverne’s involvement since Chance would introduce them. Also, he knew for certain she didn’t know Mama Laverne. She did not know his last name because he hadn’t told her.

Satisfied with his solution, he decided to call Zoey in the morning and suggest she come to the ranch around eleven. Glancing at his watch, he saw it wasn’t quite midnight, so he would call Corbin and tell him what he needed to know and make sure he agreed to be here tomorrow before Zoey arrived.

Upon returning to his bedroom, he called Corbin who answered immediately. “What’s wrong, Chance? What the hell happened?!”

Chance heard the depth of panic in Corbin’s voice. “What makes you think something is wrong?”

After a few expletives that almost burned Chance’s ears, Corbin said. “Because you rarely call anyone, especially not at this time of night.”

“Nothing is wrong. However, I need a favor.”

There was a pause before Corbin asked, “What kind of favor?”

He then spent the next twenty minutes telling Corbin Zoey’s story. It would have taken less time if his cousin hadn’t interrupted by asking so many questions.

“Wow, that’s sad about her parents, and her memory loss sucks,” Corbin said between yawns.

“I know,” Chance agreed.

“And you swear she’s a looker?”

“I wouldn’t say she was if she wasn’t,” was Chance’s response.

“I’m taking your word for it, so you better not lie.”

“Whatever. You agree to be here no later than eleven in the morning?”

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