“You lived with your father until he died. Yes?” she asks.
Chance nods. “But we weren’t close.”
I can tell there’s more to that sentence, but he’s being diplomatic. I’m not sure if it’s out of kindness to my mom, or if he’s minimizing his past because it sucks.
“He divorced my mother when she was pregnant with me,” Miles tells her. “I understand that’s the same with you.”
Mom nods. “Yes, but…” She flicks her dark gaze at Chance and then looks away.
“Nothing you can say will hurt my feelings when it comes to my father,” Chance says. “Our father.”
She clears her throat. “We were both fairly young when we met. Me more than Jonathan. And like you said, Miles, he divorced me when I told him I was having a baby.”
I reach out and set my hand on her forearm. Give her a smile.
She offers one back and takes a shaky breath.
“He was sweet to me while we dated. And a short time into our marriage. Then he changed. Became mean. He didn’t want a child and was so angry at me for getting pregnant, as if it doesn’t take two people to make it happen.” She swallows. “I also learned that he was having affairs.”
Holy shit.
“He slept around?” I ask, although I shouldn’t be too surprised.
She nods. “Very young women. I was twenty-two, but he liked them even younger.”
“He did,” Chance agrees. “He told me I was a mistake. Never let me forget that. That the women he married messed everything up by getting pregnant.”
“Jesus, didn’t he know about condoms?” Miles asks, although we all know the answer to that. He glances at Mom and sheepishly adds, “Sorry, ma’am.”
She waves him off. “It’s been thirty-five years. I got the best thing out of the marriage right here. I’m sure your mothers think the same.”
Silence for a moment, until Chance speaks.
“He never married again, obviously. He didn’t date, either. I’d say he fucked his way through Western Montana. I didn’t keep track, but I agree that he had a thing for…barely legal women.”
Chance runs a hand over his face and my stomach sours. A rich old guy flashing his cash—and his dick—would definitely interest some women, no matter how young.
“Then why did you stay? I mean, you could have just up and left,” Miles says.
Chance pokes at a piece of chicken on the platter. “I never loved my dad. He was pretty much always an asshole. But I loved the land. Still do. Dealing with him was the sacrifice I made for what I wanted out of life.”
“To be a cowboy,” I say.
“Rancher.”
“If the big hat fits…” Miles points to the Stetson sitting on the counter.
Chance shrugs.
“Well, don’t let that man put you off your food,” Mom gestures to the bowls and platters before us. “Tell me about Carly.”
“I can do that,” I tell her, “but we should talk about Greg and our plan for getting the plane back in the air.”
I’d rather talk about the gorgeous brunette, but we’re here in Seattle for a reason. We only have a week and need to get on it. Fast.
“The way we figure, Austin will fly the routes,” Miles says. “I’ll work with you, Diana, on putting out a job posting and getting someone hired. Meanwhile, Chance can go beat the shi— crap out of this Greg guy.”
That lifts the mood and we all laugh.