Fortune's Second-Chance Cowboy

by Marie Ferrarella

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Chloe cried, genuinely concerned. She could just imagine what was going through their minds. But at least they had each other to lean on. “Is there anything I can do?”

  It took him only a second to answer Chloe. “As a matter of fact, there is.”

  “What do you need?” she asked, ready to pitch in and help.

  Chloe thought he was going to ask her to accompany him and his wife to whatever hospital their little girl had been taken. Maybe they were too rattled to drive safely. But that wasn’t what he needed her to do.

  “Would you mind sticking around for a while?” Graham asked her. “I’ve got someone else coming in for an interview and I couldn’t reach him on the phone. I was going to call you as soon as we were on the road,” Graham quickly explained. “When he gets here, tell him that as soon as I make sure that Maddie’s all right, I’ll be back. I know this is a huge imposition on you and I wouldn’t ask if—”

  “That’s okay,” Chloe said, cutting him off. She could tell just by his tone of voice that if he remained, the man’s mind wouldn’t be on the interview. “Go. See to your daughter.” She all but shooed the couple out. “I’ll stay.”

  “We won’t forget this,” Sasha promised, tossing the words over her shoulder as she and her husband rushed out of the house.

  Chloe offered the couple an encouraging smile. “Glad to help,” she called after them.

  After all, it wasn’t as if she was exactly pressed for time, Chloe thought, watching the duo get into their car and drive quickly away.

  Besides, Chloe reasoned, walking back into the ranch house and closing the door behind her, this way she could get a look at whoever it was that she would be competing against for this job.

  Chloe looked around. She liked the looks of the ranch from what she’d seen of it, driving up here. Maybe she was reading things into it, she thought, but it had a good feel about it.

  Chloe sat down on the sofa, prepared to wait. She remained sitting for all of five minutes before she began to feel restless. On her feet again, she started to prowl around the large living room with its comfortable masculine furnishings.

  Definitely a good feel to the place, she thought as she moved about, touching things and envisioning herself working here.

  She looked at an old-fashioned clock with gold numbers on the fireplace mantel, and she could almost feel the minute hand dragging itself in slow motion, going from one number to the next.

  How long was she expected to wait? If she’d had some sort of a handle on that, then she could put things into perspective—or at least know when it would be all right for her to leave.

  The sound of a back door slamming made her jump. As did the sound of a wailing baby.

  The next second, a rather beleaguered-looking older man came in, holding the crying baby in his arms and looking as if he was at his wit’s end.

  Without bothering to ask her who she was or to introduce himself, the man complained, “I can’t get her to stop crying. I’ve tried everything and she just keeps right on bawling. Do you know how to make her stop?” he asked pathetically, holding the baby out to her like an offering. “Please?”

  Chloe stared at the stranger, stunned. She didn’t know the first thing about babies, and for all this man knew, she could have been some random thief who had just broken in to the house.

  But he looked so distraught, she decided to skip pointing that out. Feeling sorry for the man, she said, “Give her to me,” although, for the life of her, she had no idea what she was going to do.

  “Thank you, thank you,” the man cried. “This is Sydney. I’m Sasha’s uncle Roger, by the way,” he said as he placed the baby into her arms. “Graham and Sasha had an emergency and asked me to watch the baby while they were gone.” He flushed, embarrassed. “I said yes before I knew what I was getting myself into. I thought the kid would stay asleep. But the second they were gone, she started crying.” And then Roger stared at the infant, relieved and awestruck at the same time. “Hey, will you look at that,” he marveled, looking from Sydney to the woman holding her. “She’s really taken to you.”

  To Chloe’s absolute amazement, the baby had stopped crying. She would have said there was some sort of magic involved, except it was obvious that Sydney appeared to be fascinated with the way the light was hitting the sterling silver pendant she was wearing around her neck.

  The pendant that Donnie had given her just before he’d shipped out, she thought sadly.

  Even now, you’re still finding ways to help me out, Donnie.

  “More like she’s taken with my necklace,” Chloe told Sasha’s uncle.

  To prove her point, she grasped the pendant and moved it around ever so slowly. Sunlight gleamed and shimmied along its surface. Sydney followed the sunbeam with her eyes, mesmerized.

  “Hey, whatever it takes.” Roger laughed. “I’m just really relieved that Sydney’s finally stopped crying. I was afraid she was going to rip something loose inside that little body...or that I was going to start to lose my hearing. For a little thing, she’s sure got a mighty big set of lungs on her.”

  For the first time, Roger turned his attention to Chloe. Apparently realizing that he didn’t know who she was, he asked, “You a friend of Graham’s and Sasha’s?”

  “Not exactly,” Chloe replied.

  She wasn’t really sure how to introduce herself. Yes, she was Graham’s half sister, but she was still getting used to that title herself. She didn’t know if she was comfortable enough to spring it on anyone else yet, not to mention that Graham might not welcome their connection becoming public knowledge.

  Sitting down on the sofa as she continued to cradle and entertain the baby, Chloe evasively explained, “I’m here to interview for a job that’s opened up at Peter’s Place.”

  “Ah.”

  Roger nodded his head as he sat down, too. “Great place,” he told her. “Sasha and Graham do a lot of good here. And they could certainly do with a few more willing hands to help them out with the work. You got a job in mind?” he asked.

  “I’m applying for the counseling job,” Chloe explained. Now that he was no longer distraught because he couldn’t get the baby to stop crying, the older man seemed very easy to talk to.

  “Counseling, huh? Like my niece.”

  She nodded. “Do you work at Peter’s Place, too?” she wanted to know.

  Roger’s face registered surprise. “Me?” he cried, obviously stunned that she would think that. “No, I actually own the spread that Peter’s Place sits on. The Galloping G Ranch,” he told her proudly. “My house is down aways. I just came by when Graham and Sasha called, saying that they needed someone to watch Sydney here for a while. They forgot to tell me that I needed to bring my earplugs,” he added with a laugh. “You don’t mind my asking, how many kids have you got?”

  “None,” she replied, sincerely hoping that the pang she felt making that admission wasn’t evident on her face.

  She and Donnie had really wanted to start a family, but they had held off because Donnie was going overseas. He’d said that he wanted to be around while she was carrying his baby. Besides, he had told her, they had time. They had their whole lives in front of them.

  Until they didn’t, she thought sadly. She really wished he had gotten her pregnant before he left. At least she would have had a part of him to help her ease the pain of loss.

  “I’m sorry. Did I say something to upset you?” Roger asked, clearly concerned.

  Chloe shook her head. “No, I was just thinking of something.”

  “Oh, well, good. I wouldn’t have wanted to upset you, especially since you’ve been such a help with Sydney here and all.” He glanced at his watch, then looked up at her almost sheepishly. “Um, listen, I really need to make a phone call. Since Sydney here seems to really like you, would you
mind holding her a bit longer while I make my call? Shouldn’t be too long,” he added.

  The man was already edging his way toward the back of the house as he spoke. It was obvious that he was hoping she’d agree.

  Chloe really wanted to hand the baby back to this man, but she couldn’t very well turn down his request. Besides, she had promised Graham to wait until whoever he hadn’t been able to reach on the phone turned up for his interview, so what was one more thing added to that?

  “Sure, I can watch her,” she told Roger.

  The heavyset man beamed at her. “Thanks,” he cried. “You’re going to love working here. They’re both really great people,” Roger told her, giving her a quick fatherly pat on the shoulder just before he turned on his heel and quickly disappeared, leaving the same way he had entered.

  “Looks like it’s just you and me now, Sydney. I’m Chloe, by the way,” she told the baby, who was staring up at her with enormous blue eyes, looking as if she was hanging on every word. “Your dad’s half sister,” she explained. “What’s that?” Chloe pretended to lean in toward the baby to hear the “question” that Sydney had “asked.”

  “You didn’t know he had a half sibling? Well, he does. Several of them from what I hear,” she added with a laugh.

  “Your grandfather really took that ‘Be fruitful and multiply’ passage in the Bible to heart, I guess. I’ve got a feeling that there’s going to be lots of us popping up around here from now on. I hope when you start talking, Sydney, you’re going to be good with names,” she told the baby.

  And then she smiled down at the sweet, innocent face that seemed to be listening to every word she said.

  “You don’t have a clue what I’m saying, do you?” Chloe asked and then laughed. “Know what? Maybe it’s better that way. Maybe it’ll all sort itself out by the time you’re old enough to know what’s going on. Until then—”

  Chloe stopped talking abruptly when she heard someone knocking on the door.

  Knowing it wouldn’t be Graham and his wife, she figured it was the other candidate. The one who’s after my job. She set her shoulders to do battle. “Let’s go see if we can scare him off or talk him out of it, okay?”

  Sydney made a little noise, and then the next moment Chloe saw that there were bubbles being formed around the infant’s rosebud lips.

  Chloe laughed, delighted. She shifted the baby, holding Sydney a little closer to her as she rose and began to head for the door.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Chloe told the baby.

  Sydney responded by making even more bubbles.

  Chloe opened the door, but whatever greeting she had come up with to offer the person on the other side temporarily vanished.

  This was not the type of person she had expected to see when she opened the door. Given the position that she assumed they were both competing for, Chloe had unconsciously thought that he’d be a rather scholarly-looking man. The kind who seemed to fade into the woodwork without anyone taking notice of him.

  Instead, what she found herself looking at was a cowboy, most definitely an adrenaline-stirring cowboy. The kind whom women were given to fantasizing about whenever the word cowboy came up.

  The man standing before her had to be about six foot three with shoulders wide enough to give him trouble getting through narrow doorways. He had somewhat unruly, dirty-blond hair and eyes so blue they looked as if they’d been cut right out of the sky. He was wearing tight jeans, a long-sleeved denim shirt, boots and a Stetson—set at what could only be described as a sexy angle. In summation, he looked picture-perfect.

  If she had to guess, she would have said that the cowboy was somewhere in his late twenties.

  What she didn’t have to guess at was that the man was utterly gorgeous.

  The second the thought occurred to her, it hit her with the force of a thunderbolt.

  Gorgeous?

  She hadn’t even so much as noticed another man since Donnie had died, much less labeled that man as “gorgeous.” What was happening here? she upbraided herself. Had she just lost her mind?

  Chapter Two

  Chance Howell realized that he wasn’t just looking at the petite blonde holding the baby, he was actually staring at her. That couldn’t be viewed as exactly getting off to a good start with who he assumed was the potential boss’s wife. He’d gathered some background on Graham Fortune Robinson and knew the man had two kids, one of whom was an infant. Hence the logical leap.

  “Um, excuse me,” he began, feeling rather tongue-tied as he took off his hat and held it in his hands. “I’m Chance Howell. I’ve got an appointment with Graham.”

  “He’s not here right now,” the woman told him. “He was called away because of an emergency, but he wanted me to tell you that he’ll be back soon.”

  “You must be Sasha. His wife,” Chance added when the woman who was looking at him with large cornflower-blue eyes gave no indication that he had guessed her name correctly.

  “What? Oh, no, no, I’m not. I’m Graham’s half sister.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, ‘Graham’s half sister,’” Chance acknowledged, putting his hand out to her.

  The woman shifted the baby to her other side so that she could shake hands with him.

  “Chloe,” she told him. “My name is Chloe. Chloe Elliott. And I guess we’ll be interviewing for the same job once Graham gets back.”

  Chance could only stare at her. What was she, five-one, five-two? Did she say they were going to be competing for the same job? She didn’t look like a rancher, and she certainly didn’t look like any former military person he’d ever met. The ad he was answering was for a rancher, and it had said that preference would be given to any veterans who applied.

  But then, what did he know? The world had been doing a lot of changing in these last few years. Black was white and white was black, and he’d heard that with proper drilling, tiny little ladies like her could mop the floor with guys like him.

  That might even turn out to be an interesting experience, Chance caught himself thinking. The one thing he was certain of was that he was glad that the petite blonde wasn’t married to the man who he hoped would be hiring him.

  He glanced down at her hand, which she had tucked around the baby. It was still clearly visible for his purposes.

  There was no wedding ring.

  Maybe things were looking up, Chance mused. He could use a little good luck right about now.

  “What branch of the service were you in?” he asked her, curious.

  Chloe looked at him quizzically. “Service?” she repeated.

  “Yeah, you know, navy, army, marines, air force. Service,” he repeated. Had she been in some sort of secret branch? he wondered. Was that why she looked so reluctant to say anything?

  “I wasn’t in any branch,” Chloe told him, looking bewildered. “What makes you think I was in the service?”

  Aware he might have made a mistake, Chance backtracked. He didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot by insulting the woman.

  “Well, the ad said that preference would be given to veterans,” he began, feeling as if he was on really shaky ground here.

  “I didn’t see the ad,” she told Chance. “Graham just called to tell me about the position and he asked me to come out to the ranch to interview for it. And then he got called away because of that emergency.”

  He nodded. “Right. The emergency,” he repeated. “So you said. Um, do you have any idea when he might be coming back?” He wasn’t much for small talk, but this had to be a new low, even for him.

  Chloe shrugged. “Not a clue. He just said he’d be back as soon as he could.” She paused for a moment, as if searching for something to say in order to fill the stillness. “So, you served?” she asked.

  Chance nodded. “Special
Forces in Afghanistan—until that IED sent me straight to the hospital, and eventually, stateside.”

  “Recently?” she asked, trying but failing to covertly scan his appearance.

  The cowboy looked perfect, but she knew that there were some injuries and scars that weren’t visible.

  But in her opinion, the worst ones were the ones that didn’t allow you to come home at all, other than in a coffin.

  “No, I’ve been home for a few years now,” Chance told her.

  “Where’s home?”

  “Here and there,” he answered vaguely. “I go wherever the work is.” He didn’t want it to sound as if the reason for his nomadic existence was because he didn’t do a good job and was let go. “I don’t stick around long in any one place,” he confessed.

  “Why? Are you looking for something?” Chloe asked.

  “Not particularly.”

  It wasn’t that Chance felt he was actually searching for something specific, he just stayed in one place until he began feeling restless. It was as if something inside him would suddenly tell him that it was time to go.

  “I already know that the only place I ever feel like I’m at peace is on the back of a horse. I guess you could say that’s my haven, my church,” he explained.

  She smiled at him, and it seemed to make its way to her eyes. “Lucky for you, you can keep your church close by so it’s there whenever you need it.”

  He smiled back at her. “Something like that.”

  It wasn’t really like that, but he wasn’t about to correct the blonde right off the bat. They hadn’t even known each other for a total of five minutes yet. Correcting her wasn’t exactly the way to get to know her any better.

  He did, however, appreciate the fact that she wasn’t grilling him, trying to make him explain his thinking. Some of the women he’d encountered would try to do just that—especially the ones who made it clear that they wanted him to stay with them.