Fortune's Second-Chance Cowboy. Marie Ferrarella
admit that what he’d just asked made him feel like an idiot. “You mean the boys?”
Her smile was a natural reflex. “I kind of have to. Horses don’t listen to me.”
Chloe’s sense of humor tickled him and he laughed. Now it all made sense. They were here about two different positions. “I could teach you how to make them listen to you.”
“You’re talking about the horses, right?” she asked, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes.
He found himself being pulled in and mesmerized by those deep pools of blue. It took effort to tear his gaze away. “Right,” he finally replied. “I’ve got no trouble getting horses to listen to me. Most people, though, just ignore me like I wasn’t there.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute,” she told him with feeling. How could anyone, male or female—especially female—not notice this man? His presence seemed to just fill up the very space around him. Heaven knew he certainly did that for her.
The way he was looking at her right now made her feel like nervously shifting from foot to foot. The butterflies in her stomach were multiplying at a phenomenal rate. It was hard to gather her thoughts together to answer him.
“For one thing, you’re really tall.” She knew that wasn’t much of an answer, so she searched for a better one. “And you have this commanding air about you. If you were a counselor, I’m sure that the boys here would listen to whatever you had to say.”
“Good thing we won’t have to put that to the test,” Chance answered, then confessed, “I’m not much when it comes to giving orders. I had enough of that when I was over in Afghanistan.”
The mention of the place that had seen Donnie die had her quietly saying, “At least you got to come back.”
The words slipped out before she could think to stop them. Any hope that Chance might not have heard her died the second she looked up into his eyes. He’d heard. There was curiosity mingled with a touch of pity in his blue orbs.
The moment grew more uncomfortable for her.
“Did you lose someone?” Chance asked kindly.
Her first impulse was to deny his assumption. But that would be like denying Donnie had ever existed, and she couldn’t bring herself to do that.
So after a couple of beats had gone by, she answered him. “Yes.”
“Brother? Father? Husband?” Chance kept guessing when she made no acknowledgment that he had guessed correctly. By the time he’d reached the word husband, with no visible response from her, Chance shook his head. “No, never mind. Don’t tell me. It’s none of my business. Sorry I asked,” he apologized. “It’s just that sometimes it feels like some kind of exclusive veterans club—the kind you really don’t want membership to,” he added ruefully.
“Does that mean you wish you hadn’t gone?” she asked, curious.
How many times had she lain awake at night, wondering if Donnie ever regretted enlisting before the war had taken him from her. Even now, after all this time, she hadn’t really come to any sort of a satisfactory conclusion.
“No,” he told her honestly. “I went to fight for my country, and I’m proud of that part. I just wish I hadn’t seen what I’d seen. Nobody should see that kind of thing,” he said quietly. “Nobody should have to live through it, either.”
Then, as if he replayed his own words in his head, Chance blew out a breath, mystified. “How’d I get started on that?” he asked. The question was meant more for him than for her. Clearing his throat, he abruptly changed the subject. “Anyway, at least now we know that we’re not out for the same job.”
Roger, who had been hanging back quietly this whole time, finally spoke up.
“Well, glad that’s been cleared up—and just in time, too.” His attention was immediately redirected to the sound of the front door being opened. “Looks like your future bosses are back,” he told Chloe and Chance with a broad wink.
They turned toward the front door in time to see Graham and Sasha walking in, along with a little girl. With her straight blond hair and her delicate features, she looked like a miniature version of her mother. All except for the arm that was in a cast and held by a sling around her neck.
Chloe winced in sympathy. That had to be Maddie, she thought, her heart immediately going out to the little girl. She hoped that Maddie wasn’t in too much pain.
“Well, we made it back,” Sasha announced. “Sorry for the wait.” She looked around. “Uncle Roger, where’s the baby?”
Roger pointed to Chloe. “This one got her to go to sleep just like that.” He snapped his fingers to illustrate just how fast Chloe had performed what was clearly a magic trick to him.
Sasha smiled warmly at Chloe.
“Well, I’m won over. You’ve got the job,” Sasha quipped.
“You’re not serious, are you?” Chloe asked uncertainly.
“No, she’s not,” Graham agreed. “But almost,” he told Chloe. “Sasha goes on gut instincts, same as me,” he told her.
“Hey, kiddo, you want to go upstairs and lie down?” Roger asked his grandniece, who had momentarily gotten lost in this verbal exchange between the adults.
“No,” Maddie cried, protesting the very idea. “They had me lying down forever when I was in the hospital, getting all those pictures took of my arm.” She looked at her cast. “What I want is you to sign my cast,” she declared, pointing to the newly applied cast with her other hand. Barely an hour old, the cast already had a handful of autographs and well-wishes written on it. “I got these from the nurses. And that’s from that doctor who put it on,” she told her granduncle, pointing out the different signatures. “Isn’t it neat?”
“It sure is,” Roger agreed with the kind of enthusiasm that appealed to young children. “Neatest thing I’ve ever seen. What do you say you and me go get us a sandwich in the kitchen and I’ll see if I can come up with something real good to put on that cast?”
Maddie perked up visibly. “Can I have anything I want to eat?” she asked eagerly.
“You can have anything that’s in the refrigerator,” Roger qualified with a wink.
Maddie’s grin all but split her face. “Cool!”
Roger pretended to misunderstand her declaration. “Cool or hot. Whatever’s there, is yours.”
Sasha exchanged looks with her amused husband. “I think maybe I should go supervise,” Sasha said, following her uncle.
Wanting to be as accommodating as possible, Chloe called out after Sasha’s departing back, “I’ll just sit right here until you get back.”
“You can if you want to, but feel free to move around if you like. You’ve already got the job,” Sasha called back over her shoulder, accompanying her injured daughter to the kitchen.
Chloe looked at Graham. Sasha hadn’t asked her a single question that had to do with the job she was applying for. Just what had gotten the woman to decide in her favor?
“I’m confused,” Chloe confessed.
He laughed. “Sasha’ll do that to you,” he said in a completely understanding voice. “I feel like my head’s been spinning ever since I first met her. But since she’s a better judge than I am when it comes to this position, I’ve made up my mind. You do have the job.” And then he grew more serious. “Do you mind being left alone for a few minutes?” he asked. “I’d like to ask Chance some questions in private.”
Then, before she could answer him, he made a suggestion. “Feel free to look around the house, or to join Sasha, Maddie and Uncle Roger in the kitchen.”
Chloe