Free Spirit of the Wolf by Loree Lough

and thy mother... if they deserve it...."
    She'd all but given up hope on Micah.
    And then Chance came along.
    Bess sat in her window seat and stared into the darkened yard. A wistful smile on her face, she hugged the candle wicked pillow to her chest and sighed. Yes, she'd given 'I love Chance ' a thought or two, but she'd quickly dismissed the feelings as silly, immature infatuation. Too many people depended on her, needed her, and she had neither the time nor the inclination for romance.
    At least, that had been true in the past.
    Chance 's kiss had changed all that.
    Bess put her fingertips to her lips and closed her eyes. Her heart swelled as she remembered the way his mouth lightly grazed her chin, her cheeks, t he way his big strong arms wrapped around her and gathered her close, making her feel safe and warm...and womanly.
    If a man as handsome and available as Chance had taken a romantic interest in her, why, maybe she wasn't so plain and unattractive after all! She'd waved away such thoughts in the past, telling herself that the sins of pride and vanity had put them into her head in the first place.
    Surrounded by the steady strength of his embrace, he'd told her, without words, that it was all right to need others, at least once in awhile . T o take occasionally, instead of always giving. Until now, she'd been the family's sole source of strength. In all that time, she hadn't allowed herself to express fear or worry, sadness or grief . How could she cry over typical girlish concerns when it had become her responsibility to be mother, father, and friend to her brothers...and Micah's confidant and rock as well!
    Bess believed that when Chance wrapped her in that sheltering hug, he'd said in his quiet cowboy way that he loved her. Smiling, s he remembered the Widow Rennick's advice, and freely admitted how very ready she was to be loved.
    ***
    Chance was a man who'd spent most of his adult life out of doors, so the long hours he spent under-roof, visiting with Bess and her brothers had been hard for him at first. But each passing hour , he felt more comfortable, until it seemed as natural and normal as breathing…until he couldn't stay away from the house. Though he ’d thoroughly enjoyed playing checkers and chess with Matt and Mark, Chance admitted the real reason he wiled away so many hours in the manor house: Bess.
    He thought of her day and night. And that surprised him, because though he'd courted a few women in his years on the run, he'd never felt even the faintest stirrings of emotional involvement toward a one of them. Chance remembered how he'd occasionally donned white shirt and black string tie, and escorted the prim and proper daughters of wealthy ranchers to fancy parties. He'd courted town girls in practically every city he'd visited. Spooned with the flirty girlfriends of other ranch hands. Why, he'd even bedded a few …but only if they'd invited him to, and only with the understanding he'd soon be on his way....
    He'd lived on the edge because he believed that someday, he'd die on the edge. Chance saw no reason to steal a woman's heart, saw even less reason to give his own. Because sooner or later, he'd have to say goodbye.
    Or die.
    So h e resigned himself to life alone. As the years slid by, i t became easier to stick to his self-imposed rule of solitude as he watched frail little women turn big strong men into well-trained lap dogs. If a gal set her sights on a trinket or a bauble, he wondered, why didn't she just come right out and ask for it, instead of pouting and whining until she got what she wanted? If her man did something to rile her, why didn't she just point-blank tell him what he'd done, instead of punishing him with the silent treatment until the poor fool puzzled it out?
    There were scores of questions about life that he'd likely never figure out, but the only thing he did understand about women was that all the way back to the days of Adam and Eve, they'd been troublemakers, liars,