Feels Like Home. Vicki Thompson Lewis

obligation was to Olivia and Olivia’s sweetheart, Wyatt. By extension, Meg felt some loyalty to Rafe, and he’d have a much easier time of it if he’d get that burr out from under his saddle, as they said out here in the West.

      “Meg?” Olivia’s voice floated down the hall. “I’ve been sent up to check on you.”

      “I’m in here.” Meg shook her head and made the silver-and-turquoise earrings dance. They went well with the black dress she’d settled on, the simple little black dress that every woman was supposed to have hanging in her closet. Knowing her limitations in the fashion department, Meg had clung to that advice.

      Olivia, looking radiant in a dark green dress, appeared in the doorway of what was still referred to as “Roni’s room.” The Chances had taken Roni in when she was a runaway teen. Now she worked as a mechanic on the NASCAR circuit and had married a guy on her racing team.

      The decor hadn’t been updated since the days when Roni had been obsessed with NASCAR. But it was the only upstairs bedroom with an attached bath, so it was usually assigned to any single female guest. Meg qualified and was grateful for the privacy.

      “Oh, Meg, those earrings are spectacular with that dress.” Olivia beamed at her.

      “And you look terrific, as always.” Meg glanced lovingly at her friend. Olivia constantly experimented with her hair, and recently she’d colored it in various shades of red and blonde. For tonight’s event she’d created an arrangement of upswept curls and dangling ringlets that inspired Meg’s awe.

      “Thank you.” Olivia smiled. “Being crazy in love helps.”

      “I don’t have that going for me, unfortunately. I wish I’d asked you to come early and do my hair. It just sits there, a curly red blob.”

      “Is that what’s keeping you?” Olivia crossed to the dressing table, picked up a tube of gel and squeezed some into her palm. “I can fix that in a jiffy.”

      “The hair, the dress, the makeup, the jewelry. I’ve been a mass of writhing indecision.” Meg’s anxiety level dropped significantly as Olivia massaged hair gel into her misbehaving curls.

      “Sounds serious.” Olivia finished with the gel and picked up a brush and a hair dryer. “You’re usually the calmest one of the bunch.”

      “I think it’s having Rafe here.”

      “He does change the dynamics.” She turned the dryer on low and began to work. “He’s a different kind of guy and he doesn’t quite fit in at the moment, but I’m counting on the fact he’s Wyatt’s twin. He’ll be fine. It’ll all work out.”

      “I hope so. He seems sort of …” Meg hesitated to label him and risk offending his future sister-in-law.

      “So you’ve met him?”

      “I introduced myself this afternoon. He thinks I tried to run him down while I was on Spilled Milk.”

      Olivia met Meg’s gaze in the mirror and laughed. “So did you?”

      “No! Of course not!”

      “Just wondering, because speaking for myself, I have the strongest urge to mess with him.”

      Meg grinned, relieved she could be honest. “Livy, he’s ridiculously uptight. He told me he has ‘no interest’ in participating in the activities of the ranch. Won’t dress in jeans and boots until forced to. Plans to spend the week checking in to work on his iPad. How crazy is that?”

      Olivia nodded. “That’s what he said just now, too. He seems to be holding the ranch and the Chance family at arm’s length. Poor Wyatt doesn’t know what to do.”

      “Well, that sucks. For Wyatt and you, but for Rafe, too. He has no idea what he’s missing. It’s a crime to come to this beautiful ranch and stay cooped up with an iPad.”

      “I agree.” Olivia used the brush and hair dryer to arrange Meg’s hair in soft, layered curls that framed her face. “There, how’s that?”

      “Incredible.” Meg turned her head to view the results. The earrings swung rhythmically as she moved. “Now I feel gorgeous enough to take on Rafe Locke.”

      Olivia smiled. “And do what with him?”

      “You know, I think, deep down, he might want to loosen up, but he’s afraid to. He needs some help.”

      “Well, if anyone can help him overcome those fears, it’s you.” Olivia stood back. “Go get him, girl.”

      RAFE WAS HOLDING UP, but just barely. The shock of seeing his doppelganger—Jack Chance—walk into the room had largely worn off, but keeping the names and faces of the Chance clan sorted out had taken its toll. Fortunately no one had asked him the million-dollar question—whether Diana was coming to the wedding.

      Even if they had, he wouldn’t have been able to give them an answer. He realized his mother was taking rudeness to a new level by waiting this long to reply, but surely a family rift that had lasted thirty-two years gave her some dispensation from the Emily Post crowd. He didn’t condone her behavior, either now or thirty-two years ago, but he didn’t want to see her humiliated, either.

      He was trying to figure out a way to ditch the whole dinner plan and head upstairs to bed when Meg walked down the curved staircase looking like a queen at her coronation. He stared, then caught himself and glanced away.

      But the image stayed with him. She’d abandoned the cowgirl look for a slinky black dress that showed off cleavage he hadn’t imagined existed when she’d worn a T-shirt. Her curly red hair now fell in soft waves around her face, and dangling earrings caught the light as she moved.

      Dressed like this, she could walk into any nightclub in San Francisco and turn heads. She was turning them here, even though every man in the place except Rafe was spoken for. After an hour in the company of these guys, Rafe knew they all adored their wives, or fiancée in Wyatt’s case. But a man would have to be dead not to notice Meg tonight.

      The only male who dared say something was thirteen-year-old Lester, a foster kid who would eventually be a part of the Chance family when Nick and Dominique formally adopted him. Lester gazed up at Meg with reverence in his eyes. “Wow. You clean up real good.”

      That brought a laugh from everyone, including Meg. “Thanks, Lester.” She touched the lapel of the boy’s new Western shirt. “You’re pretty stylin’ yourself.”

      “This is new.” Lester stuck out his skinny chest to show off his shirt. “Boots are new, too. Ropers.”

      “Very nice. I’ll bet you and Nick went shopping today.”

      Rafe covertly watched the interchange and wished he’d had the presence of mind to compliment her instead of allowing Lester to take the lead. The boy was small for his age, but apparently he had a gift for working with horses. Of the eight boys who’d spent the summer months at the ranch, Lester had been the standout according to Sarah. Nick and Dominique couldn’t stop talking about how much they enjoyed having him as part of their family.

      Gazing at Lester, Rafe thought about what Meg had said this afternoon about the Last Chance changing lives. Here was a perfect example and Rafe applauded the effort. The ranch was a lifeline for a boy like Lester, but Rafe didn’t happen to need saving.

      Wyatt walked over to stand beside him. “I saw your reaction when Meg came down, bro.” He gestured in her direction with his beer bottle. “It’s the most animated you’ve been since you arrived.”

      “She’s a good-looking woman.” Rafe took a sip of his red wine as he watched Meg fuss over Lester.

      “She’s also really special to Olivia.”

      Rafe glanced at Wyatt. In the two months since Rafe had last seen him, Wyatt had become a cowboy, both in dress and attitude. It suited him. “That sounded like a warning. Are you saying I should keep my hands off Meg?”

      “That’s