“Not blaming you. You didn’t know.”
“Because you didn’t tell me.”
Chance shoved his hands into his pockets and stuck his chin out. He couldn’t have clammed up any harder if he’d been wearing a shell.
Cordy huffed out a breath. She wasn’t owed the entire story, but after that scene, she deservedsomething.
Holden had looked older than she had expected. Much more tired and confused, too. And there was the comment about his drinking problems, but Cordy wouldn’t bring that up unless Chance did.
“He’s ill,” she asked, “isn’t he? Is he… is he dying?”
“Maybe?” Chance shrugged like he didn’t care. “No one knows. Probably faster than the average sixty-some-year-old, but not fast enough for his taste.”
The anger vibrated through him. Chance acted above it all, but there was deep pain here. If Cordy had to guess…
Pieces started to come together in her head, forming a picture from the puzzle of Chance’s behavior—at the bar, at his house, and back in the kitchen.
Everything was a joke to Chance. But his father was the one thing that Chance didn’t crack jokes about.
“He wants to die?” she asked. “But why?”
The man had five sons, a massive ranch, and a dog who loved him. Holden had so much to live for. Cordy couldn’t understand.
She cupped her belly, felt the baby kick back in reply. No, she would never give up on this kid, and she hadn’t even met them yet.
“Have you ever been to Lovers’ Cavern?”
Cordy blinked at the change in subject. “No. I know the story, but I heard it’s hard to get to.”
She’d planned to make the hike at some point—it was exactly the kind of place she loved to explore—but she’d found out she was pregnant before she could. And then everything she used to do for fun had fallen away in the aftermath.
“From this side of the mountain,” Chance said, “the trail isn’t so bad. So you heard the story?”
“Parts of it. There were some teenagers back in the Wild West days who were in love, but their parents said no. So they ran away together, but they died. It’s how the town got its name, from the ‘star-crossed lovers.’”
Sam had told her that story the first night she’d met him. He’d been pleased to be the first to tell her. Sam was convinced the story of the town’s name meant that his and Janine’s off-and-on relationship was destined to be something more. What better place for true love to overcome all obstacles than Star Crossed Springs?
The tale had been charming from Sam, but Cordy guessed Chance’s version would be less so. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be bringing it up.
“Yeah,” he said gruffly, “that’s basically it. Except the boy in the story was a Kessal. Jesse Kessal.”
“A relative?”
“A great-great-great uncle of mine. He fell in love with Ida Buckland. Hard.”
The twist he put onhardhooked into Cordy’s chest. There was something important here—this was more than simply a family story to him.
“The same Bucklands that own the salvage yard?” she asked. Cordy had no idea they were involved, too.
He nodded. “They were traveling peddlers back then. The kind of people the heir to a ranching family shouldn’t associate with, much less marry. But Jesse saw Ida, and it was love at first sight. He’d have her for his wife or…”
“Or nobody?” Cordy prompted.
Chance shook his head. “Not even that. It was Ida, and that wasit.”
The stamp Chance put on that was so definite, so permanent, Cordy felt it in her bones.
Cordy was surprised Chance could talk about love like that. It ought to be completely unknown to the king of one-night stands.
