Free The Widow and the Wildcatter: A Loveswept Classic Romance by Fran Baker

come to a crossroads of her own. She had to risk caring again.
    She stood, her mind made up. “Thanks, Loretta.”
    The blonde winked a lacy eyelid. “Go get him, tiger.”
    Joni plunged into the crowd, dodging a dangerous elbow here and skirting a passionately embracing couple there.
    Chance saw her working her way across the circle and met her in the middle. “I thought you’d never ask.”
    Her heart did a two-step when he put his arms around her. “Don’t play so hard to get.”
    “Where you’re concerned,” he said as he molded her body to his, “I’m as easy as they come.”
    The beat surrounded them and permeated them, and starlight served as their personal strobe.
    Joni danced with her eyes closed and her cheek against his chest, lost in the very life of him. She felt his hard thighs and warm hands. Heard the strong drum of his heart. Drank in the clean, woodsy smell of him. And she knew she was in the right place.
    Their steps grew smaller as they drew closer. Joni wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, holding him as if she’d never let him go. Chance caressed her lower back, sensitizing her to his touch and spreading a slow, honeyed heat through the thin voile of her dress.
    She whispered his name when his mouth brushed her temple, and they sealed their exquisite awarenessof each other with a kiss that didn’t end with the music.
    “Good nights” and “good-byes” filled the air. Motors coughed to life. Bright yellow headlights turned into tiny red taillights. Silence fell as softly as a lover’s sigh, but the moon and the stars held back the night.
    Joni and Chance stood alone at the crossroads, each of them wondering where they went from there.
    She knew he wanted to take her to bed.
    He realized she wasn’t ready yet.
    But if one or the other of them didn’t say or do something to break the spell that held them in thrall, bed was exactly where they were going to wind up.
    The wind sang in the tall grass and the trees as Chance slipped his arm around Joni’s reed of a waist and steered her toward the red convertible, saying softly, “Let’s go home.”
    “Oh, no!” Guilt punched Joni in the stomach when she saw Dr. Rayburn’s car parked in front of the house. “Something happened to Grandpa while we were gone.”
    She flung Chance’s arm off her shoulder and slid over to the passenger side of the convertible. Before he could even brake to a complete stop, she opened her door and hit the ground at a run.
    Pieces of gravel became embedded in her sandals and her toes, nicking her skin unmercifully as she tore across the driveway. Tears of frustration,not pain, filled her eyes when she tripped while going up the porch steps.
    “Here.” Chance came up beside her and grabbed hold of her arm, which kept her from falling flat on her face.
    “Leave me alone.” Joni swatted at his supporting hand almost hysterically.
    “Dammit, I’m trying to help!”
    “Haven’t you done enough?”
    Before he could ask her what she meant by that, she pulled out of his grasp and stumbled unaided up the remaining porch steps.
    Dr. Rayburn opened the screen door for her.
    “How’s Grandpa?” she demanded.
    “He’s going to be fine.” With his chaotic mop of hair, walrus mustache and rumpled white suit, Dr. Rayburn reminded Joni of Mark Twain.
    “Thank God.” Her legs went limp with relief, and this time she was grateful for Chance’s hand at her elbow. “What happened, anyway?”
    Dr. Rayburn pursed his lips. “Near as I can figure, Bat got to coughing so hard he couldn’t catch his breath.” He looked at Chance. “When your young roughneck called me, he sounded pretty shook up, so I said I’d come over and give him a shot to help him sleep.”
    “Where is Skinny?” Chance asked.
    “I sent him home,” the physician answered.
    Confusion pinched Joni’s small features. “How did he know to call you?”
    “I left his number by the telephone,” Chance said.
    She bowed her head, ashamed