Vicki Thompson - Feels Like Home

DO YOU NEED A COWBOY FIX?

New York Times bestselling author Vicki Lewis Thompson returns to Mills & Boon ®Blaze ®in 2013 with more

Sons of Chance

Chance isn’t just the last name of these rugged Wyoming cowboys—it’s their motto, too!

Saddle up with:

Long Road Home

Lead Me Home

Feels Like Home

Take a chance … on a Chance!

Dear Reader,

This is a sappy, sentimental love letter to all of you who’ve welcomed me back to the Mills & Boon ®Blaze ®line and taken the Sons of Chance miniseries into your homes and your hearts. Thank you for all the funny and appreciative emails and for your continued support of my books, whether you’re reading them in paperback or on your ereader. You rock!

Because you’ve embraced the SONS OF CHANCE with such enthusiasm, I’m going to keep writing books about them! So get ready for another summer of gorgeous cowboys coming at you in 2013. I have you and my wonderful editor, Brenda Chin, to thank for it, and I’m thrilled! Life at the Last Chance Ranch has become part of me, and I didn’t want to say goodbye to all those folks I’ve come to love.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. We’re still at the beginning of 2013, and you’re holding book nine in your hands. While I hope you’ve read all the others, you might have missed some. I realize that and I try really hard to make each book stand alone. So whether you’re a frequent visitor to the Last Chance Ranch or a newcomer, I have a feeling that Rafe and Meg, best man and maid of honor at a traditional ranch wedding, will touch your heart and make you smile.

Be sure and pay attention to the epilogue, though, because it’ll give you a hint about book ten!

Continuing to be yours,

Vicki Lewis Thompson

New York Times bestselling author VICKI LEWIS THOMPSON’s love affair with cowboys started with the Lone Ranger, continued through Maverick and took a turn south of the border with Zorro. She views cowboys as the Western version of knights in shining armor—rugged men who value honor, honesty and hard work. Fortunately for her, she lives in the Arizona desert, where broad-shouldered, lean-hipped cowboys abound. Blessed with such an abundance of inspiration, she only hopes that she can do them justice. Visit her website at www.vickilewisthompson.com.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

With thanks to Tony Horvath for creating such

fabulous covers for the Sons of Chance.

I’m blessed!

August 23, 1980 from the diary of Eleanor Chance

I THINK MOST FOLKS IN Shoshone, Wyoming, would say that I’m a nonviolent sort. In fact, ask anyone in the entire Jackson Hole area who knows me, and they’ll tell you I’m a calm woman not prone to outbursts of rage.

So these same people might be shocked to learn that I could, given the opportunity, twist Diana Chance’s head right off her scrawny neck. I’ve never been so fired up in my entire life, which includes the time that my dear husband, Archie, forgot my birthday AND our anniversary in the space of a month.

If I had Diana in my clutches, nothing would save her except a promise to stay and be a devoted mother to my sweet little grandson, Jack, and a wife to my son, Jonathan. But the irresponsible piece of baggage has LEFT. She’s abandoned both my son and my grandson, and for that I will never forgive her.

I hated the fighting between Jonathan and Diana, but I hate this more. No child should have to grow up knowing that his mother didn’t love him enough to stick around. I will do all in my power to make it up to this poor little boy, but he’s not even two. How can he be expected to understand?

All he knows is that his mother is gone. Her note tells us not to try and find her. Believe me, I’ve considered it. I have a little money put away, and I could hire a P.I. to track her down, but then what? Other than twisting her head from her neck, what do I want with her?

I want what I can’t have, which is for her to be a good mother to my grandson and a good wife to my son. It’s not possible. Archie tells me to let it go, that dwelling on it is useless and will make me even more miserable. I suppose he’s right, but what I wouldn’t give for two minutes with that sorry excuse for a mother.

Present day Last Chance Ranch

SO THIS IS THE HOME MY MOTHER left more than thirty years ago .

With a sense of foreboding, Rafe Locke turned into the circular gravel drive that fronted a two-story log ranch house, climbed out of his rented Lexus and pocketed the keys. He hoped the car’s shocks were okay.

The luxury sedan might not have been the best choice for driving over the rutted dirt road leading to the main house, but trucks were his twin brother Wyatt’s style, not his. Wyatt operated a wilderness trekking company and loved long, arduous hikes. Rafe gave financial advice to high-profile clients and worked out at a gym.

Although Wyatt had offered to meet his plane at the Jackson airport, the guy was a busy bridegroom with things to do. And things on his mind, like whether their mother, Diana, would risk returning to face her oldest son, Jack, in order to attend Wyatt’s wedding.

Whether Diana showed up or not, Rafe wanted to be in charge of his own transportation during the week of wedding festivities. Once their dad, Harlan, arrived, he’d also appreciate having the Lexus at his disposal. He didn’t like driving trucks, either.

As Rafe surveyed the house with its wide porches and country ambiance, he had no trouble imagining his mother’s objections to the lifestyle. The structure represented home and hearth, not the sleek sophistication Diana craved.

She would sneer at the rockers lining the porch and the horseshoe knocker on the massive front door. She’d think the multicolored flower beds on either side of the porch steps lacked design and restraint. She’d hate the wrought-iron boot scraper anchored in cement beside the steps.

The house had quite a bit of square footage, though, and Wyatt had said the acreage was considerable, too. Rafe hoped the Chance family had a good financial advisor. Considering property values in a resort area like Jackson Hole, they were likely sitting on several million in assets.

Wyatt seemed oblivious to that, which was so like him. Instead he’d rattled on about the family history, and how Archie Chance and his bride, Nelsie, had built the center section themselves during the Great Depression. Later two wings had been added at an angle that made them look like arms reaching out to welcome visitors.

Or ensnare them. His mother had said she’d felt trapped at the Last Chance. Escaping to San Francisco and marrying financier Harlan Locke had been her solution. Except her marriage to Harlan had come apart eighteen months ago, and Rafe knew she wouldn’t look forward to socializing with her ex, especially when they’d be prominently showcased as the mother and father of the groom.

But that issue paled in comparison to her confronting Jack, the son she hadn’t contacted since she’d left, the son who Wyatt, Rafe and Harlan hadn’t found out about until after the divorce. Wyatt had chosen to visit the ranch and meet his half brother. He’d discovered that Jonathan Chance, Jack’s father and Diana’s first husband, had died, but he’d left two more sons, Nick and Gabe, and a widow, Sarah.