Free Captured By You: A One Night of Passion Novella by Beth Kery Page B

toward the counter and leaned his hip against it. “You said you wanted me to be honest. Don’t I deserve the same consideration?”
    She glanced away, embarrassed. A few strained, silent seconds passed.
    “I’ve been stuck in this forgotten town for my whole life, Chance. I’m not complaining. It’s like you said, it’s beautiful country filled with good, honest people. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t longed for a chance to break away, for
something
to shake up my life a little bit. I don’t want to grow old and die and know I’ve never stepped off the paved path.”
    “That’s what I mean to you? A little rough country? A little risk?”
    “A reminder that I’m alive,” she said before she had a chance to censor herself. “That I’m still a vibrant woman, despite the fact that I’ve been stuck in the backwoods for my whole life, and been responsible for another human being since I was eighteen years old, but still haven’t seen my thirtieth birthday. Yeah. Maybe that’s what all this means,” she said. When she realized how raw she’d sounded, she lifted her chin in a subtle defiant gesture. “Given the life you’ve led, that must sound pretty naive and stupid.”
    He regarded her soberly. “The last thing it sounds is stupid.”
    Again, she looked away, ashamed by her burst of honesty. He stepped away from the counter.
    “Plates?” he asked, obviously sensing her vulnerability.
    She pointed at a cupboard, wavered on her feet, and turned away.
    * * *
    “You really are a fantastic cook,” Chance said forty-five minutes later as he enthusiastically made his chicken casserole, salad and homemade seven-grain bread disappear. “You should be the one to publish a book.
Nutritious Country Cooking
 . . . no . . .
Bohemian Country Cooking
. Get it? All the fresh produce you use from the co-op and hippy ideals blended with old-fashioned recipes,” he said, pausing in his brainstorming to take a huge bite of apple walnut salad. “I’ll do the photography for it, if you’d like.”
    “Oh, yes,” Sherona teased fondly as she buttered her bread. “World-famous photographer working on a book that will sell ten copies; nine, if I can’t get my brother to buy a copy.”
    “It’d be a great promotional tool for Food for Body and Soul,” Chance told her pointedly.
    She set down her knife and just stared at him. His eyes gleamed at her knowingly as he forked a large helping of casserole into his mouth.
    “You’re
right
. It would. Why haven’t I ever thought of that? The proceeds could go to Body and Soul, but more important—”
    “It would highlight everything the organization stands for—affordable, healthy food for needy families.”
    A thought occurred to her and her shoulders sagged. “We’d never be able to afford the costs to develop something like that, even if I could talk the other board members for Body and Soul into it.”
    “Tell you what. Give me a proposal for it—nothing fancy, just a page or so, something I can give to my accountant—and I’ll back it. I’ll pass it on to my publisher, too. Maybe they’ll pick it up. With a wider distribution, it’d be a decent moneymaker for the organization.” She gave him an incredulous glance. “What? I wanted to do some charitable work for Body and Soul. I told you I think it’s a good cause.”
    “But you’re already doing the photography for the brochure!”
    He shrugged. “I’ll be able to finish that tomorrow morning. I can do more,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Besides, it’ll give me a good reason to return to Vulture’s Canyon soon.”
    All thoughts of a possible cookbook vanished. “When do you plan to leave town?”
    “Day after tomorrow. I have a photo shoot in the United Arab Emirates scheduled at the beginning of the week.”
    Sherona took a sip of her tea, willing the sinking sadness and flash of disappointment she experienced to fade. Of course she’d known he’d be leaving Vulture’s Canyon