Could he still care?
The ache around her heart deepened. It had taken years to get over him—and a split second of his lips touching hers to bring it all back. Every yearning she’d ever had for Chance, every dream of a future with him as her husband, every laugh, every adventure they’d shared, every passionate moment, and there had been many, had come roaring back, flooding her emotions.
And she didn’t know what to make of that. Or what she should make of it.
Why hadn’t she left it to lawyers?
She couldn’t have feelings for Chance. Not if she was thinking about a permanent relationship with Ben. She cared for Ben. Nice, safe, steady Ben. Ben who had requested a job in Wyoming for her sake, even though he hadn’t proposed yet and she hadn’t said yes…yet.
They’d casually looked at rings before he left for training, just for fun. They’d talked about a future together. She sensed he was waiting for the right moment to formally ask her, waiting until he’d settled into his new job, found a place, and had something to offer. That was what she liked about Ben, wasn’t it? He planned ahead, thought things through, covered his bases.
But now she had to wonder if she’d ever really gotten over Chance and, more importantly, if she ever would. And if there was a chance he still cared for her…
The heavy thud of her father’s footsteps sounded in the hallway. Based on the fry pan she’d just finished cleaning, her father had already eaten breakfast. So it was likely he was looking for her before he headed out to one of the dealerships. He’d be expecting an answer about the job. He’d be expecting a yes.
Yesterday she’d been resigned to taking it. But seeing Chance had reminded her of what was at stake—her future. She couldn’t let her father bully her into making another mistake.
She wasn’t cut out to be in car sales. She didn’t like the pressure to sell more car than someone could afford. She didn’t like the half-truths told to get shoppers to buy cars they didn’t want. She didn’t like the car business, period.
“Libby, I’m glad you’re up,” said her father, his voice deep and booming. “How’s my baby girl?” He walked into the kitchen with a stiff gait and a manila folder in hand. Her father was a big man with a barreled chest, wavy gray hair, and a smile in his brown eyes.
But being back home over these last few weeks, Libby had become aware of a difference in Sam Brennan. His voice seemed more strained, his brow more furrowed, his walk less resolute. He’d aged.
Sam slapped the manila folder on the counter. “Put your fancy MBA to work on these figures from Casper. It profiles our typical customer. See if anything jumps out at you, anything we can use in the ad campaign.”
A knot twisted in her gut. Libby didn’t reach for the folder.
He scrunched up his large nose and narrowed his watchful brown eyes as if her face had a message printed on it. “What’s the matter?”
First things first.
“I saw Chance Cochran last night.”
“What? Where?”
“At the Cattleman’s Club. He was celebrating a win.”
Her father’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Did you talk to him?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t tell him about the affidavit?”
Sam reached for the coffeepot on the counter and poured a cupful into the chipped mug that had been used once already that morning. Etched across its scratched porcelain surface were the words Best Dad—a long-ago Father’s Day gift.
“I did. I can’t say for sure he’ll sign it,” she said. “He growled something about letting lawyers handle it and sped away.”
Her father frowned. “And that’s what you should have done, let the lawyer handle things. All he has to do is sign that paper in front of a notary. Now he’ll get his lawyer involved. Hell.” He took a gulp of coffee before continuing. “He better sign. I should have had him arrested for kidnapping back then and made him sign that summons before they released him.” He dumped the remainder of the coffee in the sink, its flavor no doubt bitter after sitting in the hot pot for so long.
“I went with Chance of my own free will. It was my choice.”
Setting the empty cup on the counter, he folded his arms across his chest. “You were too young to make that choice. Thank God you came to your senses. Now look at you. MBA, ready to marry a good man, settle down, and work in the family business. Think where you would have been if I hadn’t gotten you that divorce. Probably have a passel of kids and be stuck in some trailer park while Chance chased after rodeos and who knows what else.”