Fortune's Second-Chance Cowboy. Marie Ferrarella

herself philosophically, doing her best to bolster up her flagging courage.

      “Well, here goes nothing,” Chloe murmured under her breath as she unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door.

      Glancing up into the rearview mirror before she exited the vehicle, she made one futile attempt to smooth down her wayward curly blond hair. Not that it did all that much good, she thought ruefully. Her hair seemed to have a mind of its own.

      “Just like me,” Chloe murmured, thinking of what her mother had often said.

      You just keep dancing to your own drummer, Chloe. The world’ll come around eventually to join you.

      Satisfied that she looked as good as she was going to look on this crisp March day—the wind had seemed determined to restyle her hair the moment she’d stepped outside—Chloe got out of her sedan and closed the door.

      She didn’t bother locking the vehicle because it wasn’t the kind of car that anyone would think to steal. It had already gone through several owners before she’d bought it a year ago. Close to ten years old, it ran mostly on faith and used parts.

      Warning herself not to expect too much, Chloe went up the three steps to the ranch house front door. Mentally counting to ten as she took a deep breath and centered herself, she knocked on the door.

      The second her knuckles made contact, the door seemed to fly open. As a matter of fact, she could have sworn that the door opened a second before she actually knocked on it.

      But that had to be her imagination—right?

      “Oh, Chloe, you’re here,” Graham said, looking startled to see her.

      He wasn’t in the doorway alone. Chloe recognized the pretty blue-eyed blonde right behind her half brother. It was his wife, Sasha. The petite woman looked even more frazzled than Graham did.

      “I’m sorry. Did I get the dates mixed up?” Chloe asked, looking from Graham to his wife. It was the only conclusion she could draw, given the expressions on their faces and their almost breathless manner.

      “No, no, you’ve got the right date,” Graham assured her. “But something’s just come up. There’s been a sudden family emergency. I just got a call from our babysitter that Maddie—that’s our eight-year-old,” he explained quickly, “decided that she’d give flying off the swing a try.” He frowned, shaking his head. “It didn’t turn out quite the way our fearless daughter had hoped. From all the screaming and crying, the sitter thinks that Maddie broke her arm. We’re just on our way out to meet them at the hospital.”

      “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