“Sounds like you’ve found yourself, Chance.” Her smile, though encouraging, didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I found more than that, Libby. I found out what I need. I found out who I love, and I realized, for probably the first time, who loved me for who I am. Not who I thought I was or wanted to be.”
She didn’t say anything. Just stared at him with those deep-blue eyes pooled with tears. This was harder than he imagined—and he had imagined it to be pretty hard. He still had to say it. He took a deep breath and steadied himself, like before he mounted one those broncs
“I love you, Libby.”
A small sob escaped her throat, and she shook her head in denial.
“I do,” he reiterated. “I just hope it’s not too late.” He had a sinking feeling it was.
“I’ve waited so long to hear you say that.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “But the timing…things have changed so much in just a short while. There’s my father. I can’t…I won’t leave him. He needs me. He needs me here, with him, twenty-four seven.”
Chance swallowed. He was signing on for much more than he’d bargained for, committing to something and someone who maybe needed him more than he needed her.
“And I’ll be here for you.”
She stared at him, tears streaming down her face as if she was struggling to come to grips with what he said, to believe it, to believe in him.
He reached for her hand. He took it as a good sign that she let him grasp it. Her skin was cool, yet her palms were moist.
“It’s a long road, Chance. He may never regain strength enough to be mobile and independent. He may be in a wheelchair all his life. He may have another stroke, more severe than this one. It’s a gamble, one with poor odds. And that means we would not have a normal life either. I can’t ask you to commit to that. It isn’t fair.”
He stroked his thumb along her soft palm. “As long as you still care for me, as long as you can love me like you have been, warts and all, I’m in, because that’s all that matters.”
She sniffled and shook her head. “Maybe it was a sign when things didn’t work out with us that they weren’t supposed to. Because everything that has happened with Daddy has just made things worse, impossible really.”
“Maybe things didn’t work out for us because one of us, me, had to figure out what really mattered in this world.”
“What about your ranch? You’d never see your horses?”
“I can board them down here. We can save the ranch for a getaway now and then.”
“Chance, you don’t understand what you’re signing on for. Daddy would be living with us. I would be caring for him. That’s no way for a couple to start out.”
Chance rose. “Seems I need to confirm some things.”
Libby watched, stunned, as Chance strode out of the room. She scrambled to follow, wondering if he was heading for the door after hearing the worst. She’d been honest with him. And got the reaction she expected—he was running. She tried not to let the crack in her heart widen, but it felt like it was about to break in half.
Except Chance didn’t head for the door. He turned in the opposite direction, toward the den. Toward her father.
Libby padded after him as Chance’s boots clanged and spurs jangled. “Where are you going?” she asked, but Chance didn’t answer, didn’t turn around, just kept going.
“Sir,” Chance said as he entered the large den and walked toward her father in the wheelchair. “I’m sorry to hear about the stroke.”
Her father lifted his head, and for the first time in a while, his face carried a smile. “Chance Cochran, where the hell have you been?” His tone was accusatory, but with that smile on his face, it sounded more like a meeting of two needling buddies than any sort of showdown.
“Riding. And asking myself some tough questions. Now that I’ve got some answers, I’ve come back to get an answer from Libby.”
“Is that right?” Her father chuckled and sat up straighter in the wheelchair, wiping away any sign of a defeated man. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.”
“Me too. But here’s the thing.” Chance sat down on the couch next to her father’s wheelchair like they were settling in for a chat. Libby hung back, feeling uncertain as to what was going on—and how it would end.
“Libby hasn’t said yes. She’s afraid you and I won’t be able to live here together. But she doesn’t realize that I can help when I’m here, be here for her—and for you, if you need me. And I’m thinking we can get along, two stubborn mules that we are, for her sake. So I’m asking for your blessing.”