Page 5 of Chance

She was already excited to get back to her cottage and set up her potter’s wheel. It’d been a while since she’d thrown clay, and she was itching to do it. The boxes had arrived the day before, and she was ready to get her studio unpacked and organized. Eventually, after she got the art shop going and hired some staff, she would set aside certain days just to create. That made her most excited. She would paint, make pottery, and search for things to sell. She loved finding unknown artists.

Yes, this would be an amazing time for her. The sale of the ranch had allowed her to live this life.

Once again, she was assaulted by doubt. Was she making the right decision? How come she couldn’t just feel settled in it? Why did it feel like something was missing?

It was insane, but Chance Cross’s face popped into her mind again.

She tried ignoring the thought, but she couldn’t resist the rush of memories. Kissing him for the last time before she’d left for London. Him promising he would wait for her.

Going to her grandma’s funeral a year ago and seeing him with someone else.

It was stupid, but it’d felt like a knife through her heart, even though anyone looking at this love story from the outside would say it was her own fault.

After a year in Oxford, she’d come back to the ranch and given Chance an ultimatum; he had to move to Oxford with her if they were to be together.

She still remembered the stricken look on his face that night.

No. No. No. She didn’t want to think about that look, but the memories kept flowing. Of course, Chance had insisted that he couldn’t leave Cross Creek. His family ranch was there, and his brothers and sister were the people he loved most. He wouldn’t leave them.

Her friend Marcy, who worked at a boutique in Cross Creek, had told her all about the recent developments with the Cross family. Porter had come home to take over the ranch and married Sadie. Colt had had his recent marriage to Sierra Shamrock. Crazy.

She’d read about something called the conquistador gold and how it had supposedly ended up in Wyoming. It was interesting that this town still had ties to Cross Creek, even though a recent article had reported a rumor that the gold was now in Alaska. Once again, she longed to reach out to Chance and get the full story, but she never would.

Marcy had also told her about a fire on the ranch. Kelly had asked about Chance, and she’d discovered that he and his girlfriend had broken up. Man, word got around. Kelly had been reticent to tell Marcy that she was moving back to the States. So she hadn’t. No one from Cross Creek needed to know. No one cared.

Again, she was transported back to her final goodbye to Chance years ago. Why was it still painful for her? She’d been the one who’d refused to stay. Ugh. Maybe it was because Chance had been so certain that he would marry her. Maybe it was because even though she’d left him all those years before, he’d never gone after her or begged her to come back.

But maybes wouldn’t pay the bills, as her grandmother had always told her. Maybes didn’t matter. Call it pride, or call it the belief that one could never turn back, but she wasn’t going back to Cross Creek. She was staying here in South Port, starting a new life.

As she got up and threw her trash away, a man caught her eye. When she turned to look more fully, he was staring in her direction. She didn’t recognize him. Why would she? Suddenly, she wondered if her new start in life could be a new start at love too.

No. She didn’t need love.

She shivered and pulled her sweater tighter around her. Her ex had taught her that love could be cruel. She didn’t need love at all.

Kelly meandered back down the pier toward the beach and passed by the man. He was attractive. Tall. Blond. He looked like a surfer, but older. She didn’t pay much attention, but she secretly smiled as she picked up a rock and chucked it into the ocean.

That guy had sort of looked like Chance Cross.

Chapter 3

The morning after the meeting with the Stones, Chance took Trey’s old pickup and went to Wilmington, about an hour inland from South Port. From there, he took a private speedboat out to the shoals, where ships came in and out of the inlet. It was tricky moving around there, as the shoals were known to tear ships apart. Many pirates had tried to hide in the shoals, or so the stories claimed.

He looked at the hieroglyphs in his dad’s journal, and a sketch of the shoals his father had in there, as well. The Stone family had said this area had already been examined, but he felt compelled to investigate it himself.

The guide spoke to him as if he were a tourist, which was fine with him. He hadn’t been here before, and with his blond hair and beach clothes, he definitely fit the part of the tourist perfectly—not to mention the sunglasses and the stupid visor the women had insisted he wear. No one from Cross Creek would recognize him; that was for sure. Mission accomplished.

The guide gestured to the little island. “There are some caves out here, like you mentioned. They have some hieroglyphs in them. It’s not a huge tourist spot because, well, as you know, this area of the ocean tends to rip boats apart. But I’m a pro at it, so don’t worry. There’s another private boat. My competition.”

The other speedboat was heading past them. Chance watched, but he was careful to keep his head down. It was fast enough to be a blur, but he was able to make out a passenger—a woman wearing a dress, a huge hat, and sunglasses. Kelly? He pushed that thought away. She was in Europe. Why was he always seeing that woman wherever he went? It was ridiculous. Why would a world-class artist be here? Yet he couldn’t help but turn and watch the boat disappear behind them.

Chance shook himself and pushed thoughts of the woman away. He had to focus on exploring these caves with the hieroglyphs. He didn’t know what they would show him, but he had to find out something. He’d gone through so many scenarios about the gold with his brothers, and now with the Stone family.

If the gold hadn’t been moved to Cross Creek—and since nothing was turning up, it was a major possibility—then it could still be around these parts. He had seen the gold piece that Hunter and Trent had found with Brooks—just the one piece of gold and the picture of the Stone parents. They had moved it.

Sure, the Stone parents had left that video that told everyone they’d taken it to a place where no one would find it, but after the letter between their fathers, everyone had assumed the gold had gone to Cross Creek. Though maybe it was just another red herring.

Chance hadn’t become a sheriff because he believed everything at face value. Maybe this wasn’t a Hardy Boys or Nancy Drew novel, but something didn’t seem right. They were missing something; he just knew it.

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