Fortune's Second-Chance Cowboy

by Marie Ferrarella

  “Maybe you should keep an eye on them just in case,” he suggested.

  She wanted to ask in case of what, but there was a bigger question in her mind than that at the moment. “Why? Aren’t you going to be there?”

  She couldn’t think of any other reason for him to say that. Had he changed his mind about going? She was sure that Graham had convinced him to attend. What happened?

  “It’s a family picnic,” he told her, as if that explained everything.

  “Not strictly family,” she reminded him. “Besides, as Graham pointed out, he considers the people at Peter’s Place family, too. That means the boys. And you,” she said pointedly. “Why don’t you want to come?”

  He frowned slightly, wishing she hadn’t put him on the spot like this. “I don’t do well in crowd scenes.”

  That was a lot of nonsense, she thought. “You were in the military. That was a crowd.”

  “Yeah, and I did my time,” Chance pointed out, as if that ended the argument.

  Refusing to give up, Chloe tried another tactic. “You can’t insult your boss by not showing up. Remember, you’re still waiting for his decision on that expansion for a center to help returning vets.” She pinned him with a look. “You have to come.”

  Chance laughed quietly as he shook his head. The woman just didn’t give up. There was a time, not all that long ago, when he would have found that to be annoying. But for some reason, not when it came to her.

  “You do know how to present a convincing argument,” he commented, surrendering.

  Chloe’s eyes were shining as she replied, “I do whatever I have to do.” Then, patting his cheek, she walked out of the stable humming to herself.

  Chapter Fifteen

  He had told Chloe the truth. He had never really been all that fond of crowds. Wide-open country where a man could travel all day without running into anyone else held far more appeal for him, which was why he preferred spending most of his time on the back of a horse rather than at a table, talking to people he didn’t know.

  But he had to admit that lately, he had begun to broaden his horizons just a little more. The work he’d been doing with the boys, taking sullen, angry-at-the-world teens who felt that they had been cheated by society and helping them turn their lives around—both by working with them and by his example—had made him reevaluate his take on the world at large.

  And then, of course, there was Chloe, Chance thought. He couldn’t very well do what he’d done with her on the back of a horse. Not without one of them hurting themselves, he tactfully amended.

  Still there was a world of difference between being around Chloe or the boys and these wall-to-wall—or more accurately, he thought, tree-to-tree—people he was looking at today. People who seemed to come in all sizes and shapes, united only by their last name—or at least the DNA that ran in their veins.

  Apparently, Gerald Robinson had been extremely generous with his seed, if at times not so generous with his name, Chance thought. The former Jerome Fortune had fathered eight children with his wife, Charlotte. Apparently, that hadn’t been enough to satisfy the man. He also snuck around procreating more children—Chloe being one of them—with unsuspecting, easily infatuated young women, leaving them high and dry—and pregnant—as soon as the time seemed right to him.

  Chance had to admit that he was surprised to see just how well-adjusted a lot of these people seemed to be, given their background and their father’s less than Boy Scout–like history.

  But well-adjusted or not, this gathering of Fortune Robinsons and their extended family was just no place for him, Chance decided.

  After less than half an hour into it, he began searching for the best time to make his unobserved getaway.

  As he moved about, trying his best to look unobtrusive and blend in with the background, Chance suddenly felt someone slip their arm through his. Caught entirely off guard, he turned his head to find that Chloe had quietly walked up behind him.

  Chloe returned his rather startled look with a smile. “I know what you’re thinking,” she told him.

  “Oh? And what is it that I’m thinking?” Chance wanted to know, rather impressed by the confidence he heard in her voice.

  She knew because in his place, she would have thought the same thing. “You’re thinking that it’s so crowded here, you could just easily slip away and nobody would notice that you’re gone.”

  She was good, he thought.

  “The thought did cross my mind,” Chance admitted in a conversational tone.

  “Well, they would notice. I would notice,” she told him, looking at Chance pointedly.

  That look in her eyes had him remembering the way she’d been at the lake the other night. And the memories had him fervently wishing they were there alone again right now, instead of milling around in a crowd of people.

  “You’re just saying that,” he told her.

  “No, I’m just meaning that,” Chloe insisted. “You forget, aside from Graham and Sasha and their kids—” she pointed at the small quartet out in the center of a larger circle of people “—you and the boys are the only other people here I really know.”

  Something wasn’t quite making sense to him. “I thought you said you met these people at a big dinner party at Kate Fortune’s ranch last month ago.”

  “I saw them at a big dinner party a couple of months ago,” she corrected. “There’s a big difference between seeing and knowing. I just recognize some of these people by sight. That’s not the same thing,” she stressed, wanting him not to feel as if he was the only outsider here.

  Still, Chance looked unconvinced by her argument. “Recognizing some of these people by sight is a start,” he pointed out.

  Chloe laughed as she picked up a paper cup filled with diet soda from one of the smaller tables that had been set up. “Don’t try to snow me with rhetoric, Chance. By your own admission, you’re not all that good with words.”

  “No,” he agreed, then spared her a meaningful look. A look that instantly made her feel warm and wanted. “I have other talents.”

  She blushed, unable to stop the surge of color that raced to her cheeks.

  “Yes, you do,” she quietly admitted. “And I’d really like it if you and your ‘talents’ stayed awhile longer. And the boys would like it, too.”

  She pointed them out for his benefit.

  He was surprised to see that all four were not that far away from them, caught up in a conversation with one of the other Fortune Robinson family members.

  “They’re finally beginning to learn how to adapt to people,” Chloe told him. “This is very good for them.”

  He saw her point about how being here was good for the teens, but he didn’t see the dots connecting in his case the same way that she did. “Don’t see what my leaving or not leaving has to do with them.”

  Some people needed to be hit by a two-by-four before they understood things, she thought. Chloe tried her best to get her point across. “Don’t you see? You’re their leader. They look to you to set an example. You leave, it won’t be long before they leave.”

  It was a hell of a burden she was putting on his shoulders, Chance thought. “What about you?”

  “I’m not leaving,” Chloe answered, deliberately tightening her arm around his.

  “No, I mean, you interact with them. They come to you for advice on top of those counseling sessions you have. Why can’t you be their leader here?” he wanted to know. That made sense to him.

  But Chloe had no intention of giving an inch in this matter. “Sorry, the role of leader’s already been cast, and it’s you,” she told Chance, patting his arm with her free hand. She smiled up into his face. “Deal with it.” Chloe gestured toward the barbecue grills that had been set up. “Have a burger, have a beer. Smile.” The last seemed almost li
ke an order.

  He moved his lips spasmodically in response to the last word.

  Chloe laughed. “That’ll do for now.”

  “Who are all these people, anyway?” he asked her, looking around at the sea of people, both pint-size and adult.

  Chloe looked around, trying to see them through his eyes. She could understand how all this might be kind of overwhelming to a loner like him. Being a part of this family was still overwhelming to her, too.

  She took a breath, wanting to get the names and faces straight in her mind before answering him.

  “Well, I don’t know all of them,” she qualified. “But over there, next to Graham and Sasha and the girls, are Ben and Ella Fortune Robinson and their newborn, Lacey. Well, she’s not a newborn anymore, she’s two months old—”

  “Practically old enough to go to work,” Chance joked.

  Relieved that he seemed to be in a better mood, Chloe pointed to another couple.

  “That’s Ben’s brother, Wes, and his new wife, Vivian. Over there—”

  She stopped as she suddenly recognized the young woman who had made her feel so unwelcome at the last gathering. For a split second, Chloe thought of turning around and leaving herself—but after what she’d just said to Chance, she knew she couldn’t do that. So instead, she mentally regrouped and tried again.

  “Over there,” she told Chance, “is Sophie Fortune Robinson, and her fiancé, Mason Montgomery.”

  As covertly as possible, Chloe turned the other way so that Sophie wouldn’t see her face if she looked in this direction. All Sophie would see would be the back of her head. One blonde was more or less like any other, Chloe reasoned.

  “Now, right over by the lake is Zoe Fortune Robinson. Except she’s married now. That’s her husband, Joaquin Mendoza, with her.”

  Because she’d started this, Chloe continued to systematically identify the next cluster of people she recognized even though she suspected that Chance would be perfectly happy if she just stopped right here.

  She pointed to the next four people. “That’s Olivia and Kieran, two more of Gerald Robinson’s legitimate children. And that guy with the British accent is Keaton Fortune Whitfield. He’s one of the...” She hesitated, then added, “...well, illegitimate offspring, like me. And that’s his fiancée, Francesca Harriman.”

  She looked around but didn’t find the last Robinson daughter. “Seems the only one missing is Rachel. Graham told me she lives in Horseback Hollow with her husband.”

  Chance nodded. They were nothing but names to him, but because it meant so much to her, he mentally reviewed the people she’d pointed out. He noticed the expression on the man she called Kieran. “Now, there’s a man who looks as unhappy about being here as I am.”

  Because she’d named so many for him in quick succession, she wasn’t sure whom Chance was referring to. “Which one?”

  He didn’t want to come right out and actually point to the man. That seemed kind of rude. But he had been paying more attention than Chloe probably thought he was.

  “That guy you called Kieran,” he told her.

  She had to admit that Chance had surprised her. She looked over to the man he’d singled out and saw that Chance was right. Kieran did look exceedingly unhappy. Pausing, she recalled what Sasha had told her about his situation.

  Things fell into place.

  “He’s not unhappy because he’s here,” Chloe told him. “He’s worried about Zach.”

  “Zach,” Chance repeated. Another new name. This was getting really complicated. “Maybe I should be taking notes here,” he said sarcastically.

  She could understand Chance’s confusion. There were a lot of names, a lot of details to keep straight. She gave him a quick summary. “Zach is Kieran’s best friend, and Zach’s been in a coma for a week now, ever since he was thrown by a horse. He suffered a skull fracture. Obviously, not everyone can become one with a horse the way you can,” she couldn’t help adding.

  Chance’s immediate response was one of sympathy. “Poor guy.” And then he asked, “Is he going to be all right? The guy who got thrown, I mean. Zach,” he finally remembered.

  “Nobody knows,” she told Chance. “But we can ask for an update on his condition.”

  Taking his hand, she urged Chance to come with her as she drew closer to Kieran.

  Chance was reluctant at first. After all, this wasn’t any business of his. He didn’t know either of the two men involved. But he did know what it was like to be worried about a friend, worried about that friend not making it. That memory would always be very vivid for him, he thought ruefully.

  That got the better of him, and he came along with Chloe.

  As they drew closer to Kieran, she overheard one of the other people at the gathering asking him about Zach’s condition before she had a chance.

  “It’s the same,” Kieran answered. He was toying with the glass of lemonade in his hand, but he had yet to drink any of it. “He hasn’t opened his eyes in a week. I’ve been in the hospital with him every day, and I keep waiting for Zach to sit up and laugh, ‘Gotcha!’ but he just goes on lying there.”

  “What about his three-year-old?” someone else spoke up, wanting to know about the man’s daughter. “Rosabelle, right? He’s the only one she has.”

  That only added to the sad scenario, Chloe thought.

  “Zach’s parents have been taking care of her while they’ve been praying for a miracle. We’ve all been praying for a miracle,” Kieran murmured more to himself than to anyone around him.

  “What if there is no miracle?” This question came from Francesca, who looked deeply moved by what she was listening to. “What happens to Rosabelle then?”

  Kieran took a deep breath, as if that would give him the strength he was looking for in order to reply. But it wasn’t enough. His voice came out quiet, distant. It was obvious that this was not an outcome that he welcomed.

  “Then Rosabelle comes and lives with me. Zach asked me to be her guardian.” Kieran shook his head. “He must have been out of his mind,” he said sadly.

  “Or maybe just very intuitive,” Chloe told him, speaking up.

  Kieran flashed her a grateful, albeit sad smile. “I doubt it,” he replied.

  “That was a nice thing to say,” Chance told her as they moved away from the cluster of people who were around Kieran.

  She shrugged off his compliment a bit self-consciously. “That would be what I’d like someone to say to me under those circumstances,” she confided. “Maybe it would even make me feel better.”

  * * *

  To Chloe’s relief, as the afternoon wore on, Chance no longer looked as if he needed to be tethered in place to keep him from fleeing the premises. And once he relaxed, that in turn had an effect on her, and Chloe felt herself relaxing, as well.

  The picnic seemed to go on forever, but it was the good kind of forever, the kind that wound up being one of those memories people looked back on fondly over the passage of years.

  Consequently, she and Chance were still at the picnic as the day tiptoed toward twilight.

  The conversation, which had revolved around a whole host of different topics, turned to Ariana Lamonte, a reporter, Chloe discovered, who was systematically interviewing various members of the family for a piece the woman was writing entitled “Becoming a Fortune.”

  From what she was picking up from various family members, it sounded to Chloe like a huge invasion of privacy.

  “I don’t particularly like her angle on this,” Sophie was saying. “She’s been doing a lot of hinting that our mother—well, the mother of some of us,” Sophie amended, trying to be as tactful as possible given the situation. Taking a breath, the young woman started again. “She’s broadly hinting that Charlotte,” she said, referring to her mother by her given name, “kn
ew quite a bit more about Dad’s cheating on her than she admits to.”

  “Well, that’s because your mother’s a smart woman,” Sophie’s fiancé said. “Let’s face it, unless he kept her drugged or locked in a closet, she had to know something.”

  Chloe caught the indignant look that Sophie shot at Mason, but then she noticed Sophie’s face soften. Perhaps because she felt Mason was right, Chloe thought. What Gerald Robinson had done was nothing short of terrible. He had willfully broken his vows and slept with every woman who apparently wasn’t smart enough to run for the hills when she met him. Including her own mother.

  “Guess we’re kind of a sorry bunch,” Sophie said to the others.

  “Hey, I’m not sorry,” Keaton told her. “Because no matter how I got here, I did get here,” he said with emphasis. “And it doesn’t matter who sired you or how. You’re here, you’re breathing and the rest is up to you from here on in. You’ve got your own future in your hands,” Keaton maintained. “That’s not to say that you can’t look to family for a little backup,” he added with a grin. “And there sure is a lot of family to look to around here.”

  “I still feel bad about Mother,” Sophie told the others.

  “Don’t,” Zoe said. “I’m sure she feels more than compensated for her ‘pain and suffering’ whenever she takes a look at the bank account balances, or goes shopping in one of those high-end department stores she loves so well.”

  “That’s terrible,” Sasha said to Graham, apparently not quietly enough because she was overheard.

  “That’s life,” someone else countered. “Not everyone’s a romantic at heart like Sophie.”

  Appalled at the criticism of a woman she’d never met, Chloe spoke up. “But money doesn’t keep you warm at night no matter how much there is of it.”

  “But it can certainly pay for a really good heating system,” one of the other people pointed out, laughing at their own joke.

  This was a conversation Chance felt he had no right to be part of, as well as no interest. No doubt it had to be disturbing Chloe, too.