Chapter 6- Princess Chloe.

 SAWYER

I was mindin' my own goddamn business, herdin' a few stubborn-ass cattle back where they belonged, when I heard a loud crash.

Then another.

I pulled Dallas to a stop.

“What the hell?”

Didn't sound good.

Sounded like somebody had wrecked.

So, bein' the fine, upstandin' citizen I try real hard to be, I turned Dallas around and headed toward the noise.

Wasn't exactly in a hurry at first.

People drove down that old road all the time. Could've been somebody hittin' a mailbox. Maybe a tree branch had come down. Hell, with the way some folks drove around here, somebody could've run straight into a ditch.

Then I saw the car.

Front end buried in my damn fence.

Smoke pourin' out from under the hood.

And somebody was still inside.

Everything in me changed.

“Shit.”

I kicked Dallas into a run.

Didn't give a damn about the fence.

Didn't give a damn about the cattle.

Didn't even give a damn about the car.

All I could see was that smoke.

And the woman inside.

Because I'd seen something like it before.

Years ago.

Only that time, I hadn't been there.

My wife, Adeline, died in a car accident.

So did our unborn baby.

One night.

One goddamn accident.

And just like that, I lost both of 'em.

There ain't a day that goes by that some part of me doesn't wish I'd been there.

Maybe I could've gotten her out.

Maybe I could've done something.

Maybe she'd still be here.

I know that ain't how life works.

I've had enough people tell me that over the years.

Wasn't my fault.

Couldn't have known.

Couldn't have saved her.

None of that shit ever made much difference. Because maybe is a stubborn son of a bitch. And the second I saw that woman sitting inside that smoking car, maybe came roaring right back.

So I did what every damn instinct in my body told me to do.

I got her out.

Maybe because she needed help.

Maybe because I couldn't stand there and watch another woman die inside a wrecked car. Or maybe because some broken part of me was still trying to save Adeline.

Didn't matter.

I just knew that this time...

I was there.

The woman wasn't from around here.

Didn't take a genius to figure that shit out. And whatever story she'd brought with her had dug deeper into me than I cared to admit.

She was stranded.

Didn't have much money.

Didn't have nowhere to go.

And from the little she'd told me about that cheatin' husband of hers, she sure as hell didn't have anybody she was in a hurry to get back to.

So I did what I could.

Maybe more than I should've.

“Why you lookin' at me like that?”

Ricky had been starin' at me for the past couple minutes with that stupid-ass grin on his face.

“'Cause I ain't never seen you treat a woman like this since Adeline.”

My jaw tightened.

I ignored him.

Mostly because the son of a bitch was right.

Since Adeline died, no woman had been inside my house.

Not like that, anyway.

My mama came over.

My sister came over.

That was different.

Neither one of 'em spent the night. And they sure as hell didn't walk around wearing one of my shirts.

“Fuck off, Ricky.”

He chuckled.

“You know I'm speakin' the truth.”

I shoved him off the top rail of the horse pen. The bastard landed on his feet like a damn cat.

“Asshole.”

“Should've kept your mouth shut.”

He laughed and climbed right back up. We'd been sittin' there for a while, watchin' Princess Chloe from across the ranch.

And I mean really watchin' her.

She was supposed to be helping.

Wasn't entirely sure what the hell she thought she was doing. But she looked real serious about it.

I'd only known the woman for two days.

Knew bits and pieces.

Most of which didn't make a lick of damn sense. But there was one thing I knew for sure.

Chloe Anderson was different from every woman around here.

She had class.

Poise.

Hell, even the way she stood was different. Like somebody had spent years teachin' her exactly how to carry herself.

And the way she talked?

Jesus Christ.

Half the time I needed a fuckin' dictionary just to have a conversation with her.

I'd say something.

She'd answer with twelve words when three would've done the job.

Big ones, too.

Fancy-ass words I'd heard before but sure as hell never expected to hear while standin' in a barn.

Everything about her screamed money.

The way she spoke.

The way she carried herself.

The way she'd looked at my house the first time she walked inside, like she'd never seen furniture that didn't come with its own damn security guard.

Even the way she drank water looked expensive.

Didn't know how the hell somebody managed that.

But Princess Chloe did.

And that was the problem.

Her story didn't fit the woman tellin' it.

Not even close.

I didn't know who Chloe Anderson really was. Didn't know where she'd actually come from. And I sure as hell didn't believe everything she'd told me.

But I knew one thing.

She was runnin' from something.

I'd seen that look before.

Hell, I'd worn it myself.

So I wasn't gonna push.

Not yet.

For now, I'd let Princess keep her secrets. And I'd keep pretendin' I wasn't getting curious about every damn one of 'em.

“She keeps talkin' to Dallas,” I muttered. “And the fuckin' bastard listens to her.”

Ricky leaned forward on the top rail beside me. “Fuck yeah, he does. She's got a nice sound to her voice.”

I turned my head. “Tell Claire that.”

“And she'll agree with me.”

I snorted.

Probably would.

Claire had known Ricky long enough to know the dumbass admired damn near anything pretty without necessarily wantin' to take it home.

We went back to watchin' Princess Chloe.

She'd been muckin' out stalls for damn near a few hours. A job that would've taken me fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty if I was takin' my sweet-ass time.

At this rate, I was gonna have to deduct the extra hours from her paycheck.

Then again...

Yesterday she'd damn near puked her guts out the first time she shoveled horse shit. So I reckoned this counted as improvement.

“She told Dallas and the other horses to stop shittin' so much.”

Ricky lost it.

The bastard laughed so hard he nearly fell off the rail without any help from me.

“She did not.”

“Swear to God.”

“What'd she say?”

I scratched my beard, tryin' not to laugh.

“Somethin' about how their digestive systems were creating an unreasonable workload.”

That set him off again.

I chuckled.

Only Princess Chloe could stand ankle-deep in horse shit and somehow make a complaint sound like a damn business meeting.

Ricky finally got himself under control.

“Dallas and Duke don't let women get close to 'em.”

I stopped smiling.

I knew exactly where the son of a bitch was goin' with that.

He looked over at me.

“They approve of Princess Chloe.”

I gave him a look.

A long one.

The kind that usually told Ricky he'd reached the end of my patience.

He grinned anyway.

I considered shovin' him off the rail again. Backward this time. Let his ass hit the dirt. But before I could make up my mind, Chloe's voice came from inside the barn.

“Are you two judging me from a distance?”

Ricky answered immediately. “No, sweetheart. We are not.”

What a fuckin' liar.

We absolutely were.

At least I was.

“Then why don't the two of you grab a shovel and come give me a hand?”

Ricky shook his head and immediately backed away, both hands raised like Chloe had just threatened him with the damn shovel.

“Oh, hell no. Thanks, Princess, but I gotta go. I got a business to run, bills to pay, and a woman at home I'd very much like to see again before I die.”

He smiled.

“She’s all yours, buddy.”

Coward.

He flipped his old Pittsburgh Steelers cap backward and slapped me on the shoulder as he passed.

“Asshole.” I called after him.

He laughed and kept walking.

Chloe appeared at the entrance of the barn holding the shovel.

She looked at Ricky's retreating back.

Then at me.

“What about you, sir?”

“Me?”

“Yes. You.”

I folded my arms.

“If I'm rememberin' right, I'm actually payin' you to do that job.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Well, you have yet to provide me with a comprehensive description of the scope of work I am expected to perform as a member of your staff.”

There she went again.

I pushed away from the fence and walked toward her.

“Scope of work?”

“Precisely.”

“Princess, you're shovelin' horse shit.”

“Which is precisely why I would appreciate knowing whether this particular responsibility is temporary or a permanent condition of my employment.”

I stared at her.

Jesus Christ.

Who the hell talked like that?

Then I really looked at her.

And almost laughed.

She was wearin' those worn-out overalls she'd shown up in and one of my old shirts underneath. I'd given it to her because the little crop top she'd arrived in wasn't exactly made for ranch work.

My shirt damn near swallowed her.

Her hair was a mess.

A few strands had escaped whatever she'd done to hold it back, and pieces of hay were tangled through it.

There was dirt on her cheek.

Her old white shoes weren't white anymore.

And somehow...

She still looked like a princess.

A pissed-off one.

But a princess nonetheless.

“I got a better idea.”

Her expression immediately became suspicious. “Better than scooping horse manure?”

“Not really.”

“Then I'd rather remain here. I'm afraid your better idea involves cleaning a pigpen.”

“I don't have pigs.”

Her shoulders relaxed.

“Thank goodness.”

“Can you shut up for five seconds and listen?”

She frowned.

But she shut up.

Completely.

I blinked.

Well, hell.

That worked.

“How 'bout you go back to the house, take a shower, and clean yourself up.”

Her eyes narrowed again.

“Why?”

“Because I'm takin' you downtown.”

“For what?”

“Clothes.”

She looked down at herself.

Then back at me.

“I have clothes.”

I pointed at her.

“You got one pair of overalls, a crop top, ruined shoes, and my shirt.”

She glanced down again.

“That is technically clothing.”

“Go shower.”

“I have not yet received my first payment.”

Of course she hadn't forgotten about that.

“We'll work it out.”

“With what money am I supposed to purchase clothes?”

“Chloe.”

“Yes?”

“Just follow directions.”

Her lips pressed together.

I could damn near see the argument forming behind those pretty eyes.

She stood there another few seconds, probably considerin' whether disobeying me was worth it. Then she planted the shovel against the wall.

“Fine.”

And walked toward the house.

I watched her go.

The oversized shirt hung almost to the middle of her thighs beneath those beat-up overalls. Her hair bounced behind her, hay stuck between the strands like she'd deliberately decorated herself with the damn stuff.

I shook my head.

She looked ridiculous.

Absolutely fuckin' ridiculous.

Then Dallas stuck his head over the stall door and watched her leave too.

I pointed at him.

“Don't you start.”

His ears flicked.

“She's trouble.”

Dallas gave a low snort.

“Yeah, yeah. I know you like her.”

The bastard kept staring toward the house.

I sighed.

Apparently everybody around here had decided Princess Chloe belonged on my ranch.

Everybody except me.

At least that's what I kept tellin' myself.

An hour later, we were pullin' into the parking lot of Second Chance Treasures.

Chloe had pretty much repeated the same damn sentence the entire way into town.

“Wow. This is beautiful.”

Then five minutes later—

“Oh, Sawyer, look. This is beautiful.”

Then we'd pass another field.

“This is absolutely beautiful.”

I didn't know how many different ways the woman could call West Virginia beautiful, but apparently she was determined to find out.

She'd spent most of the drive with her face damn near pressed against the passenger-side window, lookin' at everything like she'd never seen a mountain before.

Maybe she hadn't.

That wouldn't surprise me.

She'd gotten real excited when we passed a little creek runnin' alongside the road.

A creek.

I drove past the damn thing nearly every day. But Chloe had stared at it like I'd personally arranged the water and rocks for her entertainment.

I caught myself smiling.

If she thought this was beautiful, she oughta see these mountains around sunset.

This time of year, when the leaves were changin', the whole damn valley turned gold, orange, and red. And when the sun started dropping behind the mountains, everything lit up.

The fields.

The trees.

The water.

Even the old barns looked pretty.

Hell, I'd lived here my entire life, and sometimes even I stopped what I was doin' just to look.

Didn't matter how many times I'd seen it.

Some things never got old.

I glanced at Chloe.

She'd probably cry.

The woman looked like she was about two pretty trees away from doin' it already.

I pulled into a spot in front of Second Chance Treasures and killed the engine.

Chloe finally looked away from the window.

“This is where we're purchasing my clothes?”

“Yep.”

She looked at the building.

Then at me.

Then back at the building.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“That wasn't a nothin' look.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“You didn't have to.”

Her lips twitched.

“I was simply observing.”

I groaned.

There was that shit again.

“Come on, Princess.”

I got out of the truck.

She followed.

Second Chance Treasures had been sittin' near the center of Pleasant Valley for longer than I could remember. Sally had owned the place damn near forever.

It wasn't fancy.

Old brick storefront. Big front windows. A wooden sign Sally's late husband had made years ago hangin' over the entrance. Little bell on the door that had been there since I was a kid.

But Sally kept the place nice.

Clean.

Organized.

And if you needed something and couldn't afford to buy it new, chances were Sally either had it or knew somebody who did.

Half the town had probably bought something from her at one point or another.

Including me.

I reached for the door.

Chloe stopped beside me.

“Secondhand?”

I looked down at her.

“Problem?”

“Not at all.”

She said it too fast.

I narrowed my eyes.

She smiled.

That fancy little smile she used whenever she was about to tell me some bullshit.

“I think it's charming.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It is.”

“Didn't say it wasn't.”

“You're judging me again.”

“Princess, you spent forty minutes this mornin' complainin' about horse shit.”

“That has absolutely nothing to do with my appreciation for sustainable shopping.”

I stared at her.

“Sustainable what?”

She sighed.

“Open the door, Sawyer.”

I chuckled and pulled it open.

The bell jingled over our heads.

“Sally!”

“I'm back here!”

I heard something hit the floor.

Then—

“Damn it.”

Chloe's eyebrows went up.

I grinned.

“Sweet old lady.”

“I gathered.”

A minute later Sally appeared from behind a rack of clothes.

She was pushing seventy and barely came up to my chest. Silver hair curled around her face, glasses hangin' from a little chain around her neck, and one of those flower-covered sweaters she seemed to own about a hundred of.

“Well, Sawyer, if it isn't—”

She stopped.

Saw Chloe.

Looked at me.

Looked at Chloe again.

Then slowly looked back at me.

Aw, hell.

Her eyes got big.

Real big.

“Sawyer Montgomery.”

“Don't.”

“I haven't said anything.”

“You're about to.”

Chloe looked between us.

Sally completely ignored me.

“Well, aren't you pretty?”

Chloe smiled.

“Thank you.”

“And who might you be?”

“Chloe Anderson.”

Sally's eyes immediately came back to me.

“Chloe.”

“Yep.”

“A woman.”

“Clearly.”

“In my store.”

“Looks that way.”

“With you.”

I sighed.

“Jesus Christ, Sally.”

She slapped my arm.

“Don't use the Lord's name like that in my store.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Chloe covered her mouth.

I looked at her.

“You laughin'?”

“Absolutely not.”

Bullshit.

Her eyes were damn near sparkling.

Sally looked Chloe over again.

Then me.

Then Chloe.

I knew that look.

I'd seen Sally give it to damn near everybody in town at some point.

It was the look she got when she'd discovered something interesting enough to keep her entertained for the next six months.

“Well,” she said slowly, “this is certainly new.”

“Sally.”

“What?”

“Don't start.”

“I'm not starting anything.”

She turned to Chloe.

“I've known this boy since he was runnin' around town with holes in his jeans and dirt on his face.”

“Sally.”

“He was a handsome little thing then, too.”

“Sally.”

“Quiet. I'm talking to Chloe.”

Chloe smiled.

“Yes, ma'am.”

Traitor.

Sally hooked her arm through Chloe's like they'd known each other twenty years. “I don't believe I've ever seen Sawyer bring a woman shopping recently.”

“I ain't bringin' her shopping.”

Both women looked at me.

I pointed toward Chloe.

“She needs clothes.”

“That is generally why people go shopping, sweetheart.”

Chloe laughed.

Actually laughed.

Not that little polite chuckle she usually gave me.

A real one.

And damn if I didn't like the sound of it.

Sally noticed.

Of course she fuckin' noticed.

Her eyes shot straight to me.

I immediately frowned.

Don't.

That only made her smile bigger.

“She showed up yesterday,” I explained. “Car went through my fence.”

Sally's mouth dropped open.

“You're the one?”

Chloe blinked.

“I'm sorry?”

“The Mustang!”

I groaned.

Fuckin' Pleasant Valley.

Chloe looked at me. “How does she know about my car?”

“Small town.”

“That happened yesterday.”

“Very small town.”

Sally waved a hand. “Ricky told Earl, Earl told Betty, and Betty came in here this morning.”

“Jesus.”

“Sawyer.”

“Sorry.”

Chloe was staring at me now. “So the entire town knows I drove through your fence?”

“Probably.”

Her eyes widened. “How utterly humiliating.”

Sally patted her arm.

“Oh, honey, don't worry. Earl got drunk and drove his tractor into the church nativity scene three Christmases ago. We still talk about that.”

I barked out a laugh.

Chloe stared at her. “Was anyone injured?”

“Only Baby Jesus.”

That did it.

Chloe doubled over laughing.

And I just stood there watching her.

She'd cleaned up before we left. Her hair was down now, falling around her shoulders, and she'd scrubbed the dirt off her face. But she still had on those worn-out overalls and one of my shirts.

My shirt.

Something about seeing her standin' there in it felt strange.

Too familiar.

I didn't like thinkin' about why.

Sally clapped her hands together.

“All right. What are we looking for?”

“Work clothes,” I said.

Chloe straightened. “I would also appreciate something appropriate to wear outside of the ranch.”

Sally nodded seriously. “Of course.”

“Nothing extravagant.”

I snorted.

Chloe turned.

“What?”

“Nothin'.”

Sally looked between us.

A slow smile spread across her face.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

“No,” I said immediately. “It ain't.”

Neither woman paid me any damn attention.

Sally started pulling things from racks.

“Jeans. You're gonna need several pairs. Work shirts. Sweaters. Couple of flannels.”

“I have never worn flannel.”

Sally froze.

I froze.

Hell, I think the whole damn store froze.

“You've never worn flannel?” Sally asked.

“No.”

Sally looked at me like Chloe had just admitted she'd never eaten food.

“Where did you find her?”

“In my fence.”

Chloe glared at me.

Sally burst out laughing.

“All right, honey. We're fixing that today.”

“I don't particularly care for plaid.”

“You live on a ranch now.”

“I temporarily reside on a ranch.”

“Same thing.”

“It most certainly is not.”

I leaned against a rack.

This was gonna be better than television.

Sally pulled out a red-and-black flannel shirt.

Chloe looked horrified.

“No.”

“Try it.”

“No.”

“Chloe.”

“No.”

I grinned.

“Princess.”

Her head snapped toward me.

“Cowboy.”

“Put on the damn shirt.”

She narrowed those pretty eyes.

“I dislike both of you.”

Sally shoved the flannel into her arms.

“You'll survive.”

Then came the jeans.

Boot-cut.

Straight-leg.

A couple pairs Sally swore would fit Chloe perfectly.

Then sweaters.

Long-sleeved shirts.

A brown jacket.

And finally, boots.

Real boots.

Not the little white shoes she'd damn near destroyed today.

Sally disappeared into the back and returned carrying a pair of brown leather work boots.

“These should be your size.”

Chloe stared at them.

“They're rather... substantial.”

“They're boots,” I said.

“I can see that, Sawyer.”

“Then why you lookin' at 'em like they're gonna attack you?”

“I am accustomed to somewhat more delicate footwear.”

Sally glanced down at Chloe's ruined shoes.

“Those delicate things ain't gonna survive another day around Sawyer's place.”

Chloe sighed.

“Very well.”

Sally handed her the pile.

“Dressing room's back there.”

Chloe disappeared behind the curtain.

The second it closed, Sally turned on me.

I knew it.

“No.”

She lowered her voice.

“I didn't ask anything.”

“Your face did.”

“She's beautiful.”

“Sally.”

“She is.”

“Didn't say she wasn't.”

Her eyebrows went up.

Shit.

Wrong answer.

I straightened.

“What?”

“Nothin'.”

“Don't do that.”

She smiled. “Do what?”

“That damn thing she does.”

Sally chuckled.

Then her expression softened.

“When's the last time you brought a woman in here?”

I didn't answer.

Didn't need to.

We both knew.

Her eyes lost some of their teasing.

“Sawyer...”

“Don't.”

“Sawyer, honey, I'm not trying to upset you.”

“Then don't.”

She nodded.

For a second, neither of us said anything. Then Sally glanced toward the dressing room.

“She's the first one I've seen you with since Adeline.”

My chest tightened.

There it was.

Again.

First Ricky.

Now Sally.

Apparently everybody had decided today was the day to remind me of shit I already knew.

“She ain't with me.”

“I didn't say she was.”

“She's workin' at the ranch.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Car's at Ricky's.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“She's broke.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“And she needs clothes.”

Sally smiled.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“For fuck's sake.”

“Sawyer Montgomey.”

“Sorry.”

She reached up and patted my cheek. “You don't have to explain anything to me, sweetheart.”

“Good.”

“But I'm happy to see you with somebody.”

My jaw tightened. “Sally.”

“That's all I'm saying.”

Before I could answer, the dressing-room curtain opened. And every damn thought in my head disappeared.

Chloe stepped out wearing jeans, the flannel she'd sworn she hated, and those brown boots.

She looked down at herself.

“I look ridiculous.”

“No, you don't,” Sally said.

I didn't say anything.

Because she didn't.

Not even close.

The jeans fit her real damn well.

Too well.

And the flannel was rolled up to her elbows, showin' those little forearms of hers. Her hair fell loose over her shoulders, and those boots somehow made the woman look like she'd walked straight out of some fancy magazine's idea of country living.

Except there was still something too polished about her.

Too elegant.

Like you could put Chloe Anderson in a feed sack and she'd somehow make the damn thing look expensive.

She looked at me.

“Well?”

I realized I'd been staring.

“Turn around.”

Her eyebrows shot up.

“Excuse me?”

“Wanna make sure the jeans fit.”

Sally smacked me hard across the arm. “Boy!”

“What?”

Chloe's mouth dropped open.

Then those green eyes narrowed.

“You are absolutely shameless.”

I grinned.

“Thanks for the complement.”

She looked at Sally. “Do you have anything with which I can hit him?”

Sally pointed toward the corner. “Brooms are over there.”

“Don't encourage her.”

Sally laughed.

Chloe looked down at herself again. Then turned slightly toward the mirror.

Her fingers brushed over the flannel.

“I suppose it isn't entirely terrible.”

Sally winked at me.

I knew better than to say a damn word.

Then Chloe smiled at herself.

Just a little. And something inside my chest pulled tight.

I looked away.

Nope.

Didn't need that shit.

Not today.

I reached into my back pocket for my wallet.

“Take whatever you need.”

Chloe immediately turned around.

“No.”

I looked at her.

“What?”

“I told you. I haven't been paid.”

“And I told you we'd work it out.”

“I am not accepting charity.”

“It ain't charity.”

“Then what is it?”

“Work expense.”

She blinked. “Work expense?”

“Yep.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You're inventing that.”

“Probably.”

Sally laughed under her breath.

Chloe crossed her arms. “I'll repay you.”

“Fine.”

“Every dollar.”

“Fine.”

“I mean it.”

“Jesus, woman. Fine.”

“Sawyer.”

“Sorry, Sally.”

Chloe stood there another second before finally giving me a stiff little nod.

“Very well.”

Then she turned back toward the dressing room.

Sally waited until the curtain closed.

Then leaned closer.

“She's staying with you?”

I closed my eyes.

Here we fuckin' go.

“Yes.”

Sally's mouth fell open.

“In your house?”

“Yes.”

“Overnight?”

“That's generally what stayin' with somebody means, Sally.”

She stared at me.

Then slowly smiled.

“Oh, Pleasant Valley is going to have a field day with this.”

I pointed at her. “You don't say a damn word.”

She pressed a hand against her chest. “Sawyer Montgomery, I am offended that you would think I gossip.”

I stared at her.

She stared back.

We both knew that was bullshit.

“Sally.”

“All right, fine. I won't say anything.”

“Thank you.”

“But Betty's coming by at four.”

“Goddammit.”

“Sawyer!”

I walked toward the door.

Behind me, Sally was laughing her ass off. And from inside the dressing room, Chloe called out—

“Are you leaving me here?”

I stopped.

Looked up at the ceiling.

Fuck my life.

“No, Princess.”

A pause.

“Good.”

One little word.

That was it.

But for some damn reason, I smiled.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and leaned against the wall to wait for her.

Maybe Ricky was right.

Maybe Sally was right.

Maybe Dallas and Duke knew something I didn't. Or maybe I'd simply lost my damn mind.

Either way, Princess Chloe was going home with me.

Borrowing my clothes yesterday.

Wearing clothes I'd just bought her today.

Sleeping under my roof tonight.

And for the first time since Adeline died, having a woman in my life didn't make me want to run in the opposite direction.

That thought scared the living shit out of me.