Daphne smiled when she watched Jack’s book slip out of
his grasp and plop softly to his lap. His breathing had been growing deeper and slower for the last few miles.
His face was turned her way as he slept and she found herself studying him. He seemed wary when he was awake, as though at any second something bad could happen and he needed to be ready. But in sleep, he was still. Vulnerable.
She grabbed her notebook and slid a pencil from her bag stealthily so as not to wake him. She’d never be a great artist, but she’d been sketching since she could remember. She’d drawn caricatures last year for a college fundraiser and they’d been a real hit.
Maybe that’s what she’d do, she thought, as her pencil moved swiftly, set up a stand on a street somewhere and draw caricatures for tourists.
The bus bumped to a stop with a clank and a roar that woke Jack with a start. He glanced swiftly around as though assessing the immediate area for danger.
“We’re in Myrtle Creek,” she said softly. “The bus stops here for half an hour.”
“Right.” He stretched. “You want a coffee?”
She slid a hand to her belly. “Not good for the baby.”
He nodded but she could see he had no idea about what to feed a pregnant woman.
“Could I have some tea?”
“Sure thing.”
“I’ve got some sandwiches and fruit to share.”
He shook his head and his dark hair brushed his shoulders. “I can’t take that kid’s food.”
“I packed a ton of food, but wasn’t hungry.” Until now.
“Okay.”
He climbed off the bus with his pack. Then she decided to stretch her legs too and use the washroom. She grabbed her bag, not because she was worried about anyone stealing anything, but because she wanted her make-up.
Even as she scolded herself, she took a few minutes to wash her face and brush her teeth in the bus station and she swiftly applied cosmetics in the smudged mirror that had a crack in one corner.
She brushed her hair until all the tangles were out and it swing in a loose curtain.
When she got back onto the bus, Jack was already there. He stood so she could squeeze past him then handed her the paper cup of tea. She could see from the way his glance lingered on her face that he liked the look of her. She felt a flicker of the old Daphne. The one who could make guys quiver watching her apply baby oil to her skin at the beach.
She dug out the egg salad sandwiches and was glad she’d packed extra. There were two apples and four bananas. Plus oatmeal cookies and some single serving cans of apple juice.
“What if she turns out to be a crazy old bat?” he said suddenly.
“Who? My great aunt?”
He took a bite of apple, crunching into the fruit with strong white teeth. He nodded.
“I’ll sell caricatures on the street. Not in Hidden Falls, Oregon, obviously. I’d have to go to Seattle. No. Too cold. LA maybe.”
“You can draw faces?”
She pulled out the notebook, flipped it open to the drawing she’d made of him sleeping and showed him her work.
“Wow. That’s amazing,” he said, studying the sketch the way she’d once studied paintings at the art galleries her parents had dragged her to in New York.
With a flourish, she signed her name and dated it. Daphne Naigle, June 17, 1976. Carefully, she eased the paper out of the notebook and presented it to him.
“Is this really for me?” He sounded like he wasn’t in the habit of getting presents. Her heart turned over. He studied the sketch for a long time, careful, she noted, not to let the apple anywhere near it. “You are really talented.”
“Thanks.”
He dug into his pack and searched around. “I need something to keep it flat,” he said.
“Here. Keep the whole notebook. I’ve got a fresh one in my bag.” He eased the sketch back into the notebook and pushed it into his pack.
“Now I need to give you something.”
“You gave me tea.”
He gave her a mock serious look. “Something to remember me by.”
“I think I’ll always remember you,” she said. “You made me feel better on one of the worst days of my life.”
He reached out and took her hand. Held it strongly in his. “You are going to be okay. You’re stronger than you think you are.”
“Are you sure?” She wished she could believe that.
His smile was so reassuring, she felt a flood of confidence. “I know it.”
He let go of her suddenly. “I’ve got it.” He dove back into his pack, rooted around. “Hah.” He came out with a pebble sized round of blue-green sea glass. He held it up and squinted. “I knew it. I never pick shit up off the beach, but I saw this and for some reason I needed to bring it with me. It reminds me that something can be broken and then get tossed around a lot and what comes out at the end is amazing.”
She nodded, hoping he was right and her jagged edges would smooth and that being beaten up by life could turn out well.
“It’s the same color as your eyes. Blue and green at the same time.”
He presented the small egg shaped glass to her as though he were giving her a diamond ring.
“Thank you,” she said. “I will always treasure it.”
For a second, their gazes held. She felt the glass warming in her hand, felt the connection to this beautiful damaged young guy sharing her bus ride.
His gaze dropped to her mouth. She felt him wanting her. Felt a corresponding rush of emotion.
“Scuse me,” a voice interrupted them and he pulled away to turn to the kid standing in the aisle trailed by a younger brother. “Could we borrow your cards? Mom forgot ours.”
“Yeah. Sure.” He passed the cards to the kid.
“We’ll bring them back. We won’t lose any. Promise.”
Even though they hadn’t kissed, she felt as though they had. After that intense moment, things shifted. She felt like she and Jack had moved to a deeper level with each other.
They talked about places they’d been, places they wished they’d been, TV shows they liked, movies they’d enjoyed. Argued about the merits of the movie American Graffiti as art. He made her laugh. He was like no one she’d ever known before. He seemed decades older than the college boys she knew. And he might not have as much book learning but she discovered a kind of wisdom that made her think.
“We’ve got about two hours until your stop, four to mine.”
“I kind of wish this trip would never end.”
She caught her breath. Felt a blush begin. He’d said those words like he meant them.
Impulsively she turned, “I wish—“
He put a hand over her mouth, as though he knew what she was going to say. “No. Don’t ever wish the past was different than it is. It’s always what brought you here. And here is where you are.”
She nodded slowly, knowing he was right and somehow she was going to make her life work.
Somehow.
He said, “We’ve got some time. You can help me choose my new name.”
“You can’t just choose a new name like it’s a pair of jeans.”
“Can so. I do it all the time.”
“But for real?”
“If you want to get fancy about it, you can write to the government and legally change your name.”
“So you can call yourself anything you want?”
“Absolutely.”
She toyed with the sea glass, rolling it in her palm. “Rockefeller. Jack Rockefeller. That has a nice ring to it.”
“Rich bastards who oppress the poor? Please.”
“Ghandi? King?”
“No. I want it to be my own word. My mantra. You know?”
“Like, Hang Loose?”
“Jack Hang Loose.” He seemed to consider the possibility. “It’s better than Rockefeller. But I want something that inspires me. Like Dream or Goal.”
She thought about him with his playing cards in his pac
k, how he’d jumped a bus to see a guy who might have a job.
“Gamble. Life is a gamble and sometimes when you gamble you win.”
He grinned at her. “Jack Gamble. I like that.” He touched the sea glass in her palm. “Sometimes gamblers get lucky.” Their gazes locked and once more she felt that strong pull of connection.
She looked down at the sea glass. “The most amazing things happen by chance.”
He gripped her hand, the pretty glass trapped between their palms. “Chance,” he said. “That’s it.”
“Chance? For your name?”
“I took a Chance to grab this bus.” He leaned a little closer. “If I fell for a girl, I’d ask her to take a chance on me.”
The words hung in the air as the bus grumbled and wheezed to yet another stop. “Eugene,” the bus driver grumbled.
No. They couldn’t be at Eugene already. “This is your stop.”
He held her gaze. “Is it?”
The moment hung, suspended like a sudden rainbow.
“I’m pregnant,” she reminded him.
He smiled his sweet smile. “I know.”
“The father’s black.”
His eyes widened for a flicker of a second. “I don’t care.”
He reached out, touched her face, and then slowly leaned forward and kissed her.
When the bus pulled out once more onto the highway, they barely noticed.
The End
(Actually, it’s the beginning!)
For more on the Chance Family
Take a Chance series:
Meet the Chance family, Jack and Daphne and their 11 grown kids, all finding their way through life and love with passion, humor and some help from the sibs.
Kiss a Girl in the Rain, Take a Chance Book 1
Iris in Bloom, Take a Chance Book 2
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There’s nothing pretty about murder. Meet Toni Diamond, makeup consultant to middle America. She’s got an eye for beauty and a nose for trouble.
Frosted Shadow
Ultimate Concealer
The Changing Gears series:
Three sexy, humorous contemporary romances featuring three lovable bad boys and the women who tame them (but not completely!)
Wild Ride
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Fast Ride
For all my other books, please check out my website or visit me on Facebook.
About the Author:
Nancy Warren is the USA Today bestselling author of more than fifty novels. She’s known for writing funny, sexy and suspenseful tales. She calls Vancouver, Canada home though she tends to wander. She’s an avid hiker, animal lover, wine drinker and chocolate fiend. Favorite moments in her career include being featured on the front page of the New York Times when she launched Harlequin’s NASCAR series with Speed Dating. She was also the answer to a crossword puzzle clue in Canada’s National Post newspaper. She’s been a double finalist in the Rita awards and has won the Reviewer’s Choice Award from Romantic Times magazine. She spills secrets in her newsletter and you can sign up at https://www.nancywarren.net or come visit her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/nancy.warren.
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