Free A Cowboy Worth Claiming by Charlene Sands Page B

the sake of doing so—there was no arguing that point.
    She watched the sack sway to and fro as his body moved, still stretching, like time wasn’t important, like they were picnicking on a lazy Sunday afternoon and like he didn’t know she was starving. When her face flamed and her patience was about to quit, Chance slid a glance her way, smiled and then finally sat down beside her.
    He dug into the burlap bag and brought out a small loaf of bread. He broke it in two. “Here you go, princess.”
    She grabbed for the bread and took a bite. She chewed thoughtfully, letting the thick tasty dough slide down her throat. “If I’m such a princess, why am I taking orders from you?”
    His lips curled up. “You may be the princess, but I’m the boss.”
    “Ha!” She took another big bite and closed her eyes, savoring the food filling her belly. She’d baked biscuits and bread yesterday for the drive and now she was glad she did. “What else is there?” she asked, still chewing.
    He brought out a thick hunk of cheese and used a knife he kept close at hand to slice off a big chunk. She took the first piece and after a few bites, Lizzie’s stomach settled enough for her to relax.
    Chance downed his half of the bread and cheese and both were quiet for a time. Lizzie sat on the blanket, looking out at the herd, while Chance leaned up against the tree trunk, stretching out his long legs. She felt his eyes on her and the skin at the back of her neck prickled with awareness. Turning in his direction, she gathered her brows together and sent him her best glare. “Isn’t polite to stare.”
    He ignored her pronouncement. “Why do you want to be called Elizabeth?”
    “It’s my given name. I like it. But no one else seems to. Everybody is silly happy calling me Lizzie.”
    “Lizzie suits you better,” he said in matter-of-fact fashion.
    With a shake of her head, she shrugged. “I don’t understand why that is.”
    “Some things just…are, Lizzie.”
    “So you’re saying Elizabeth is too refined a name for someone like me?”
    Chance’s face twisted in puzzlement. “How’d you come up with that conclusion?”
    She looked away to the cattle grazing, trying to will herself to think of something else. She concentrated hard but the obstinate notions kept entering her head. If she knew one thing for certain, it was that Chance wasn’t the person to have this conversation with.
    Oh, sometimes she just missed Hayden to death. He’d been her friend practically since birth, and she thought of him as her protective older brother. And as someone who truly understood her.
    She wasn’t like most girls. She knew that. But that didn’t mean that at times, she didn’t want to be.
    “Lizzie?” Chance’s soft tone made her turn to him. Rarely had he spoken to her with tenderness. She’d thought he’d be asleep about now. Like most cowpokes that have a few minutes to rest, they rarely waste them talking. They devour their meal and get some shut-eye, before taking up their positions at the herd.
    But Chance kept on looking at her, expecting an answer. Unable to draw her gaze away and with the possibility he might understand and not laugh at her, she blurted out what was on her mind. “Can’t a girl want to be treated like a woman?”
    Chance blinked. His expression changed and he pushed back so hard against the tree trunk, he bumped his head. “You think that’ll make you feel womanly? Being called Elizabeth?”
    He didn’t understand. No one did. And he didn’t even try to hide the twitching of his lips. “Never mind.” She set her gaze on a speck of land far off in the distance and admonished herself for confiding in Chance. She vowed never to do so again.
    Leaning forward, he bent one knee and braced his forearm there. “Now, don’t get huffy, Lizzie.”
    “I’m not huffy.”
    “You always get huffy. And you’re not making sense.”
    Her back stiffened. She slammed her eyes shut and prayed for patience.