The Cowboy's Lullaby

“For what it’s worth, I’m not such a bad guy.”

True enough, Chloe agreed, but there must be a reason Jake Braddock hadn’t been given full custody of Brianna.

“You don’t believe me?” Jake asked.

“Sure I do.” She tried to force sincerity into her smile, yet a veil of scepticism slid over his angular face. He didn’t object, which she appreciated. She wasn’t up for a confrontation until after she’d had her morning coffee.

She decided to flirt and make him squirm a little, but she’d have to put that on hold and take care of her morning caffeine addiction. Though her craving for a hot cup of java was calling her, she glanced over her shoulder to find Jake’s eyes locked on her.

A grin tugged at her lips as she returned to her quest for coffee. Jake Braddock was her favourite type of challenge.

And he’d just thrown down the gauntlet.

To Bob and Betty Astleford. I couldn’t have handpicked better parents. I love you, Mom and Dad.

JUDY DUARTE

always knew there was a book inside her, but since English was her least favourite subject in school, she never considered herself a writer. An avid reader who enjoys a happy ending, Judy couldn’t shake the dream of creating a book of her own.

Her dream became a reality in March of 2002, when the Cherish line released her first book, Cowboy Courage. Since then, she has sold nineteen more novels.

Her stories have touched the hearts of readers around the world. And in July of 2005, Judy won a prestigious Reader’s Choice Award for The Rich Man’s Son.

Judy makes her home near the beach in Southern California. When she’s not cooped up in her writing cave, she’s spending time with her somewhat enormous, but delightfully close family.

You can contact Judy at: JudyDuarte@sbcglobal. net or through her website www. judyduarte. com.

Dear Reader,

Can you believe it’s July already?

It’s time for barbecues, picnics and fun in the sun. I don’t know about you, but during the lazy days of summer, I take a book to the pool or the beach and escape for an afternoon. And I hope that’s what you’ll do with The Cowboy’s Lullaby.

For those of you who have been fans of THE BAYSIDE BACHELORS series, this is another for your collection. Only this story isn’t about a one-time delinquent who made good. Instead, it’s about Chloe Haskell, Joe Davenport’s sexy, kindhearted neighbour. Chloe is far more heroic and loveable than people give her credit for being. Still, she has a journey to make that will earn her the right to have her own happily ever after.

I hope you enjoy reading The Cowboy’s Lullaby as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Wishing you romance,

Judy

The Cowboy’s Lullaby

JUDY DUARTE

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Chapter One

Jake Braddock was nursing a Monday-morning hangover and brewing a pot of coffee when the call came in, telling him that his stepmother, Desiree, had passed away.

“What do you mean she passed away?” he asked the hospital spokeswoman. Desiree hadn’t even reached her fortieth birthday. “What happened?”

“Officially the cause of death was pneumonia. But it was cancer related.”

Cancer?

Jake pulled out the black-and-chrome bar stool nearest to the phone line and took a seat, raking a hand through his hair. He cursed the throbbing in his head, which was now pounding like a son of a gun.

“I didn’t know she was sick,” he muttered. Not really. Well, not that sick.

A week or so ago, when she’d returned from San Diego for the last time, Jake had taken a good hard look at her and noticed dark circles under her eyes and a wan complexion. When he’d suggested she see a doctor, she’d said not to worry, that she was under medical care.

He’d suspected she was ill, but he hadn’t had any idea that her condition was terminal.

“I, uh…” He stumbled over an explanation. “She and I…weren’t very close.”

Apparently not, the silence seemed to say.

He cleared his throat, hoping to clear his head, as well. “Let’s start over. I knew she was sick, but she never mentioned cancer.”

Or told him that she was dying.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” the woman said. “Mrs. Braddock made all of her arrangements, so there isn’t anything for you to do. I’m just following hospital protocol by notifying the next of kin.”

“Then, I guess, that’s me.”

“And Chloe Haskell in San Diego.”

Jake stiffened. “Who the hell is Chloe Haskell?”

“I don’t know, sir. Mrs. Braddock listed the two of you as her next of kin.”

“What about her daughter?” he asked.

“Would that be Ms. Haskell?”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Well, hell. Maybe it was. He supposed Desiree could have another child. Older, maybe. Grown. Like him. He hadn’t really known his stepmother that well, other than the fact she’d been a topless dancer before marrying his old man.

Either way, now he’d have to tell Brianna, his nearly five-year-old half sister, that her mommy had died. Of course, he’d have to find her first. Desiree had been traveling back and forth to San Diego for the past couple of months, but last week she’d returned to Dallas without the child.

And that was odd.

Jake might have issues with Desiree about a lot of things, but he’d come to realize she was a devoted mother. At least, that had been his opinion before she’d left Brianna in San Diego.

When he’d questioned her about it, she’d said, “Brianna is staying with a dear friend. She’s happy and well cared for.”

Jake didn’t know much about his stepmother’s friends, although he suspected they all worked at the same San Diego strip club Desiree used to manage, so he had good reason to feel uneasy.

Maybe Brianna was with Chloe—whoever she was.

“There’s no one else on my contact list,” the spokeswoman said. “Just you and Miss Haskell, whom I’ve already called.”

The hospital had notified someone other than Jake first?

He cursed, although he wasn’t sure whether it was at the news he’d just heard or the hammering in his head and the bile swirling in his gut.

“I’m sorry,” the woman on the line said. “Is there someone I can call for you? Perhaps a grief counselor from hospice?”

“No. This is just a…” He was going to say it was a shock, but he bit back the rest of his sentence. Desiree was his stepmother, and she lived…well, she used to live just an hour or so away from him. Her death and the fact that she’d been suffering from cancer for God-only-knew-how-long shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Not if she’d kept him more in the loop.

Of course, once his sixty-year-old father met her on a cruise ship, Jake and his wishes had been bypassed entirely. Talk about a midlife crisis. His old man’s had been a humdinger.

Gerald Braddock had always been conservative in everything he did, but he’d fallen head over heels for a former topless dancer, who was twenty-eight and young enough to be his daughter. And he’d married her faster than a spinning tassel on a pastie.

Okay, so his dad had seemed happier in the past six years than Jake had ever seen him before, but that was probably because of Brianna, the daughter he’d fathered with his new wife.

An only child, Jake had always wanted a brother or sister, but he hadn’t planned on getting one when he was twenty-eight. Still, Brianna was a cutie and had quickly wrapped her big brother around her little finger.

Jake didn’t see her as often as he would have liked for several reasons. For one thing, his business ventures kept him busy. And for another, he tried to avoid Desiree whenever he could.

Desiree broached him about it a couple of times, implying she wanted to be on friendlier terms, but even after he’d gotten over the shock of his father’s second marriage, he just couldn’t bring himself to accept his new stepmother as a part of the family.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” the hospital spokeswoman added.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

When the line disconnected, Jake continued to grip the receiver as though he could somehow gain control of everything that had slipped out of his hands—first his father’s marriage and then his death.

And now this.

Jake had never liked Desiree. Of course, if truth be told, he’d never given her a chance, even though his father had repeatedly asked him to. But how could he when the young woman had married his old man for money?

The proof came when she hightailed it to an attorney to amend the trust the day after Gerald Braddock’s funeral.

On Jake’s part, the issue had little to do with greed. He’d been successful in his own right. He also held fifty-one percent of the stock in Braddock Enterprises, a Dallas company that oversaw various oil and petroleum-related business ventures. He didn’t like to boast, but the value of each share had nearly doubled since he’d taken the helm.

So it wasn’t the money he was after. Jake just didn’t like the idea that his father had been hoodwinked by a woman who didn’t fit into his social sphere. A woman who’d convinced him to spend more time at the ranch and less in the city, where he had a spacious, luxury home that was much closer to the office.

Of course, Desiree had absolutely no class when it came to high-society expectations, so it was no wonder his dad had gravitated toward the ranch and started playing cowboy, even though he was in his sixties.

He was also playing daddy, a small voice reminded him. And doing a better job of it the second time around.

Jake’s thoughts immediately turned to Brianna, to the orphan who needed him to step up to the plate and play daddy now.

But he didn’t know where to find her.

He could hire a P.I., but a call to Desiree’s attorney might provide an immediate answer. He pulled out the phone book and thumbed through the pages until he found a number for Brian Willoughby, Esquire.

A receptionist answered and, when he told her why he’d called, she put him on hold.

Seconds later, the attorney came on the line. “Hello, Mr. Braddock. I’ve been expecting your call.”

Yeah, well, it looked like everyone in the world knew about Desiree’s cancer—everyone but Jake. And the whole sorry, rotten mess put him in a foul mood. Hell, he’d felt better when he’d only had a hangover to deal with.

“I was sorry to hear that Desiree passed away,” Willoughby added.

He’d already heard? The pounding in Jake’s head grew more insistent. “How did you find out about her death so soon?”

“Ms. Haskell called a few moments ago.”

Jake had the urge to hurl the telephone receiver across the room. Who the hell was that woman?

“Fortunately,” Willoughby said, “Desiree took utmost care in dealing with the legalities.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the least.” Jake figured she’d been itching to get her hands on the money and take control of the company the moment she stepped foot on that cruise ship and scoped out Gerald Braddock.

Damn. He still couldn’t fathom the two of them together.

“Desiree was a courageous woman,” Willoughby said. “And strong. I came to admire her a great deal.”

“Well, since you seem to have such a clear understanding and appear to be more aware of what’s going on than I am, tell me where I can find my sister.”

“She’s in San Diego with Ms. Haskell. And from what I understand, she’s doing as well as can be expected.”

“If you’d be so kind as to give me an address, I’ll get a flight out today and pick her up.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Jake bristled. “What are you talking about?”

“Desiree has left temporary custody of Brianna to Ms. Haskell, at least until the will is read. However, there are a few stipulations and particulars I need to discuss with both of you at the reading regarding joint custody. And unfortunately, I’m not available until Friday morning. Ms. Haskell said that works for her. I hope it fits your schedule, too. Otherwise, we’ll have to postpone our meeting until next week.”

“I’d rather not put this off any longer than necessary.” Jake was already reaching for his Blackberry, eager to call in his own attorney. No, make that an entire law firm. This was crap. And he would contest the will at the top of his legal lungs.

The fact that Desiree had expected people from two different states to share custody of a child ready to enter kindergarten suggested that her mental state had been fading toward the end. The legal dream team he was about to put together ought to have a heyday with that issue and use it to put a stop to all of this pretty damn quick.

Jake didn’t have a problem sharing the estate with Brianna, but he wouldn’t share control with anyone else—especially a friend of his stepmother.

“Do you have a telephone number or an address for that woman?” he asked.

“You mean Ms. Haskell?”

“Yeah.” Jake grabbed a pen and scratched out 146 Tahiti Circle, Bayside, California. “I thought she was in San Diego.”

“From what I understand, that’s a suburb.”

Then, when Willoughby recited her number, he jotted it down, even though he had no intention of calling.

He was going to fly to California as soon as possible. Brianna lost her father last year and her mother today. She needed to be with family, with someone who loved her.

And that someone was her big brother, Jake.

Chloe Haskell hadn’t been to the park in nearly ten years and wished she’d come sooner.

There was something liberating about swinging back and forth like a child again, allowing the summer breeze to muss her hair. She supposed there were some who would criticize a grown woman for enjoying herself in a playground, but Chloe couldn’t care less. She was doing this for Brianna—and for the woman who should have been swinging beside the child instead.

“Let’s go all the way up to Heaven,” Brianna said.

If only they could.

Desiree had been a wonderful mother, a devoted friend.

Brianna must miss her terribly.

Chloe missed her, too. She and Desiree had been more like sisters than friends, even though they hadn’t seen each other as often as they should have.

In retrospect, Chloe wished that she had taken time for personal visits to Dallas, but in her defense, she’d been busy, first attending college, then opening her own business. So the two women had kept in contact via long phone calls and e-mails.

There wasn’t much they hadn’t discussed over the past six years. When Chloe had decided to lease the old five-and-dime store in downtown Bayside and put in a dance studio, she’d called Desiree for advice. And Desiree, who’d retired once she’d moved to Dallas, shared the joys of married life with the wonderful older man she adored.

Of course, she also confided in Chloe about the problems she’d faced as a stepmother to her husband’s son, a “kid” who vowed never to accept her.

When Desiree was blessed with a daughter and at last had the family she’d been waiting for, Chloe had been thrilled for her and sent gifts regularly—little dresses and outfits she’d picked up, books, a toy or two.

It was hard not to envy Desiree’s good fortune—until her luck took a nasty turn.

First her husband suffered a massive heart attack and died, then, a couple of months ago, she brought Brianna out to California for what Chloe and the child believed was a special visit, a vacation of sorts.

But the reunion had been bittersweet.

“I need to ask you a favor,” Desiree had told Chloe, as little Brianna played in the colorful indoor playground at Burger Bob’s.

“Anything.” Chloe withdrew the straw of her chocolate shake and licked a dollop from the end. “You know that.”

Desiree wrapped the remainder of her burger into the bright yellow paper it had come in and pushed it aside. “I need you to take care of Brianna for me.”

“Of course,” Chloe’d said. “I’d love to babysit.”

“I’m afraid it’s more permanent than that.”

A cold chill that had nothing to do with the shake crept over Chloe, and she’d sensed Desiree’s explanation before she could utter the words.

Desiree tore at the edge of her napkin, then peered at Chloe with glistening eyes. “My cancer came back.”

While Chloe was in high school, Desiree had been diagnosed with lung cancer. When she’d completed her medical treatment and was in remission, Chloe’s father, who’d been first her employer and later a business associate, had sent her on an all-expenses-paid cruise to Alaska, where she met Gerald Braddock.

“And it’s terminal,” Desiree’d added.

The reality and the implication of the diagnosis slammed into Chloe, releasing a torrent of shock and grief. “You need to get a second opinion.”

“I’ve seen three different doctors, hoping for another diagnosis and more options. But they all agree. There’s nothing that can be done.”

The silence threatened to draw them into an emotional whirlpool, and it was all Chloe could do to hang on and not let it carry her away. Not while Brianna played just a few feet away.

“It sucks,” Desiree had said. “It really does. I’ve waited for years to have a child, and now I’m going to leave her. And miss watching her grow up. But if there’s anyone in this world who will love and care for Brianna the way I would have done, it’s you.”

“I…” Chloe had been dumbstruck. Desiree was only thirty-four—ten years older than Chloe. “Of course I’ll take Brianna. I’ll love her like my own. But maybe there’s something that can be done, something experimental. A promising new treatment. Perhaps one of the doctors in San Diego—”

“I’m afraid there isn’t anything that can be done.”

And she’d been right. In less than four weeks, Desiree had died.

The memory of that day faded as little Brianna drew Chloe back to the present.

“Too bad we can’t go to Heaven,” Brianna said. “Mommy loves chocolate. And so does Daddy. We could take them some of the brownies we made.”

“From what I understand, they have all the dessert anyone could ever want in Heaven. But you’re right. We have too many to eat all by ourselves. Maybe we can share them with someone else.”

Under the circumstances, Brianna seemed to be taking her mother’s death fairly well. Of course, Desiree had been preparing her for the past month. And then the two of them had shared a tearful, final goodbye more than a week ago.

Sacrificing her last days must have been tough for Desiree. But she hadn’t wanted Brianna’s memories to be tainted by a hospital setting or seeing her mother connected to tubes and wires. So she left the girl with Chloe more than a week ago, then went home to die.

There was a child psychologist in Dallas whom Desiree had been taking Brianna to see, and Chloe had every intention of following through on those appointments. The little girl seemed to be doing okay, but Chloe didn’t want her have any problems down the road.

“Tell me again how you met my mommy,” Brianna said.

Chloe had known better than to be entirely truthful, especially with a child. So she stretched things a bit. Softened them.

“My father owned a…dance place,” Chloe said. “And your mommy came looking for a job. I was a little girl, like you, and I thought she was the most beautiful dancer I’d ever seen.”

Why tell the child that Chloe’s father owned a bar and strip club? Or that on the day Desiree had shown up, she’d been sporting a black eye, a swollen jaw and a split lip?

“And then,” Brianna said, adding to the story she’d already heard several times, “when your daddy needed someone to watch you, she was the bestest babysitter in the whole, wide world.”

“That she was.”

Chloe’s father, Ron Haskell, was a gambler at heart and had won a seedy bar and strip club in a poker game. During the early years, when Chloe hadn’t been much older than Brianna, she spent a lot of time at the club, where the cocktail waitresses and dancers used to look after her. Desiree, who loved children, gladly babysat whenever Ron asked her. Before long, she and Chloe had developed a strong, loving bond.

Desiree, who’d had a lousy childhood and absolutely no family support, had learned to rely on her available resources—her beauty, her body and an ability to read her customers and alter her dances to fulfill their fantasies. Too bad it took her ages to hone the same ability when it came to reading her lovers and realizing she was a loser magnet when it came to romance.

All Desiree had really wanted was love and a family, yet, that dream had remained out of reach for years. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t successful in other ways.

Ron wasn’t a businessman, yet Desiree was a natural. And soon, thanks to her advice and managerial skills, the club began to turn a decent profit.

Desiree also prodded Ron to invest in other properties. With her innate business savvy and refusal to allow him to gamble all the profit away, Ron died a wealthy man.

“And because my mommy was so pretty and smart,” Brianna said, reciting her version of what Chloe had been asked to repeat several times already, “and because she was a good dancer, you’re making a book about her.”

“It’s not exactly a book. It’s more like a journal of memories that you can read when you get older.” Chloe had titled it Lessons from Desiree, which might be a bit lame, but creating it was somehow helping her deal with the loss of her best friend.

“And I get to write in it, too,” Brianna reminded her. “As soon as I go to school and learn how to spell.”

“That’s right, Breezy.”

They pumped their feet, swinging in silence for a while, the wind blowing Chloe’s long, curly hair and whipping a red strand across her cheek. It was probably a tangled mess right now, but she didn’t care.

She shot a sideways glance at Brianna, and when their gazes met, the child grinned. “You sure are a good swinger, Chloe. Just like my mom.”

“Your mom was a wonderful teacher.”

Brianna nodded, then scanned the small playground and gasped. “Oh! I need to get off. Can you help me?”

“Sure.” Chloe jumped from her seat, landing upright in the sand. She walked to the back of Brianna’s swing and slowed it to a stop. “What do you want to do now? You’re not ready to go back to the house, are you?”

“No. I want to play with Jenny and Penny. And they finally got off the teeter-totter and are climbing the slide. I want to do that, too.” Once her feet touched the ground, the little blonde, who favored her mommy, ran across the sand to join the two new playmates she’d recently met.

When Chloe had been a child, she hadn’t had many friends her own age, something she sorely missed, so it was nice to see Brianna socialize.

Gosh, it was just plain nice to have Brianna around.

Yes, they’d had—and would continue to have—moments of sadness and tears, but Chloe was determined to do everything in her power to ensure that Brianna grew up happy and loved.

Still, at times, Chloe feared she may have bitten off more than she could chew in the agreement she’d made with Desiree. But not when it came to motherhood, a new role she’d easily fallen into. Her reservations stemmed from staying in Texas for six weeks, as Desiree had asked her to, and facing the legalities and trouble she was bound to run into when she met Brianna’s stepbrother.

And the day of reckoning was closing in on her.

On Friday morning she would meet Jake Brad-dock in Dallas at Brian Willoughby’s office.

Years ago Desiree had taught Chloe to always put her best foot forward, especially when facing adversity. And that meant dressing to the nines, carefully applying makeup and holding her head up high. That particular piece of advice was in Lessons from Desiree and labeled #1: “Always look your best.”

And on Friday morning, Chloe intended to do just that. She would walk right into that meeting and take the upper hand.

Still, a feeling of dread settled over her whenever she thought about it.

Thank goodness she had a few more days to prepare mentally for the confrontation, which she expected the meeting to be. She’d promised to abide by Desiree’s wishes and she would insist that Jake comply with them, too.

Spotting a shiny glimmer in the sand, she stooped and reached for it.

A quarter.

Her father always said finding coins was a sign of luck, so when she and Brianna headed to the market later this afternoon, she’d have to buy a lottery ticket.

Just at that moment, Brianna squealed from atop the slide. “Jake!”

Chloe turned to see the little blonde slide to the bottom, lickety-split, then scamper toward a tall, well-dressed man approaching the playground with a sexy, Texas swagger.

Uh-oh.

She’d never met Jake Braddock, but she’d been told he had a young, brash J. R. Ewing aura. And this particular dark-haired man, with his expensive Western wear, had a stance that boasted money and power.

She brushed the quarter against the black fabric of her shorts, then tucked it into her pocket. She’d thought she had a couple of days before their confrontation, but it looked as though her time had run out.

She just hoped her luck hadn’t run out, as well.