The Cowboy's Lullaby

Something told him she was right.

Even so, he realized, in spite of his objections and reservations, Brianna was sitting in Chloe’s backseat. And that ugly dog was heading back to the ranch.

So how come it felt more like a loss than a compromise?

And what was he going to do about it?

Chapter Four

Once back at the ranch, Chloe took Brianna and the dog to the guest bathroom, where they filled the tub.

The man at the shelter insisted all the animals had been treated with flea dip, but Chloe wanted to wash the doggie smell from Sweetie Pie—especially since he would be living indoors.

“Wait until we get him all cleaned up,” Chloe told Brianna. “You won’t be able to recognize him.”

Brianna wrapped her arms around the scruffy dog and hugged it close. “You’re going to love this, Sweetie Pie.”

The fidgety dog, its head cocked to one side and its tail pounding the floor to beat the band, didn’t appear the least bit convinced.

Chloe reached into the flow of water and decided the temperature was just right. “Brianna, can you please open the cupboard under the sink and pull out my shampoo and conditioner? They’re in two shiny black bottles.”

The child did as she was told, then asked, “Can I open them?”

“Sure. Go ahead and take a whiff while you’re at it. I love the scent.”

“Mmm.” Brianna smiled. “It smells pretty, just like you.”

“Thanks, Breezy.”

A knock sounded at the bathroom door, then Jake’s voice rang out with a grumpy tone. “What’s going on in there?”

Chloe suspected he was more perturbed at being out of the loop than actually curious about what they were doing with the dog. “Please don’t open the door. We’re giving Sweetie Pie a bath, and he’s not sure he wants to go through with it.”

A masculine grumble erupted, followed by fading footsteps, and Chloe couldn’t help but grin. It was going to be easy to ruffle the stuffy Texan’s feathers—if she wanted to.

And if truth be told?

Stirring the pot was a game she liked to play.

As a child, she’d learned that she was different from the other kids. Not because she had Little Orphan Annie hair, a sprinkle of freckles across her nose or big green eyes, but because the people she’d come to love and think of as family weren’t respected in society. And even though her father, who’d parlayed his winnings into lucrative real estate ventures, had been able to give Chloe everything money could buy, he hadn’t been able to provide her with the social acceptance she’d once craved.

Her father had insisted that it was just a matter of time. Believing that money was an amazing equalizer, he’d insisted she attend a prestigious private school in the San Diego area, hoping she’d find her rightful place in society. And no matter how hard she’d tried to tell him, he’d had no idea how exclusive the kids at Preston Prep had been, how malicious. And no matter how hard Chloe had tried to conform, dressing up to their standards, it hadn’t mattered one bit. They’d pointed at her and whispered anyway.

So, in the end, she’d decided to take the power position, to be proud of her seedy background, to lift her head high and give them something to gossip about. With Desiree as her coach, she’d dressed to attract attention and it had certainly worked.

She hadn’t had any real girlfriends, but the boys had certainly flocked around her. It hadn’t taken long to learn they had only one thing in mind, which she wasn’t about to give up to just anyone—another lesson she’d learned from Desiree.

“Don’t make the same mistakes I did,” Desiree had told her. “Don’t sleep with any guy you wouldn’t want to be the daddy to your children.”

Chloe glanced at Brianna, at a child born of love. “What do you think, Breezy? Is the water in the tub deep enough?”

The girl nodded. “Should I get in with him?”

“Not this time.” Chloe scooped the little mutt into her arms and slowly lowered him into the water. “Okay, Sweetie Pie. It’s time for your bath. We’ll have you looking and smelling like you just stepped out of the finest hair salon in town.”

Not many people would bathe a dog with such an expensive product, but this particular brand worked wonders on Chloe’s curls, so it should take out the snarls and tangles from the dog’s fur. Besides, poor little Sweetie Pie had been neglected for too long and deserved the best.

Chloe applied a dollop of luxurious shampoo and began to lather it into the dog’s coat. All the while she cooed and tried to calm the squirmy animal.

As Chloe worked carefully to wash the fur around the dog’s head without getting it into his face, Brianna said, “Oh, look. Sweetie Pie has really big eyes. I couldn’t even see them before. His bangs are way too long. Maybe we need to give him a haircut, too.”

“The scruffy look on doggies is in this season.” Chloe thought about Antoine, her stylist, and wondered what he’d say if he knew she was using her fifty-dollar-a-bottle shampoo on a stray she’d just picked up from the pound. “But I have an idea, Breezy. Maybe, after we blow him dry, we can use one of your barrettes to pull a little bit of his hair out of his face.”