The Littlest Cowgirls--A Clean Romance

by Melinda Curtis

  “Gabby, you promised me the last time I gave you back your phone that you wouldn’t go on social media.”

  “It’s for a project I’m working on,” Gabby said quickly. “And it’s only on my laptop.” That might have been a lie.

  And while she was fibbing, Grandma Gen closed her laptop.

  Her father stepped back.

  Had she exited out of edit mode? Had she made changes and saved them? This was déjà vu, just like what had happened a few weeks ago when she’d accidentally posted on that website about Wyatt becoming a dad. Gabby ran her thumb along the lid, desperate to open the laptop and view the post.

  Dad scowled. “Why do you always have to bend the rules?”

  Uh-oh. Gabby could feel a grounding coming. And this time, Dad might take away more than her phone. She never should have told him she’d posted from her laptop.

  “Hand it over.” Sure enough, Dad held out a hand toward her laptop.

  Since her phone was next to it, Gabby handed him the phone first, still hoping to keep the computer.

  Her phone went into his back pocket. “The laptop, too.”

  “But, Dad, you enrolled me in online classes.”

  “We’ll come up with a schedule for you to do your work. I know you have something due Sunday night, but for now, let’s take a break.”

  That was a relief. She’d be able to check the post later.

  “And for the next few weeks, the only time you can use that laptop is if I’m sitting right next to you.”

  “But, Dad!”

  * * *

  “THE TRUTH, ASH,” Wyatt said again. “Why am I miscast for the role of Mike Moody?”

  Ashley took his hand from her arm but didn’t toss his hold aside. She held each of his hands in that church aisle. She held on to him as if they were standing on the altar taking vows, as if the words she was about to recite were of grave importance. “Your ego is too big.”

  He wanted to shake himself free, but for once, it was Ashley who held on to him.

  “You’ll understand once you read the script.” She looked as if she was sorry to have put one over on him. “Mike Moody is the sidekick.”

  “A sidekick?” The legend was about the man. The movie was named after him. “To Letty?” His gut instinct was to reject the role. Back away. Back out. But the door was behind Ashley, and he thought he loved her. And so he swallowed his pride and said, “Please explain.”

  “All I can say without you signing that nondisclosure agreement is that the heart of the film isn’t Mike Moody. That belongs to the character still standing at the end of the movie.”

  “But that’s...Jeb Clark.” The blacksmith who buried Letty in his family cemetery at the foot of Mike Moody’s hideout.

  Ashley nodded. “That’s not in the street-fair script. But Wyatt Halford doesn’t play second fiddle in a movie. It goes against the very fiber of your being. I can see you struggling with the idea as we speak.”

  “Yes.” He wasn’t going to lie to her.

  But she wasn’t done. “When you enter the stage or screen, you have a larger-than-life presence. It isn’t just your ego that demands top billing—it’s your very body language.”

  Body language. It was a tool actors used to play a role. She was telling him that she didn’t believe he could modulate his being to the role.

  “Wyatt, this is why everyone wonders about your ability to coparent. You took me house hunting without telling Mitch or Laurel, the intended occupants. You ordered high chairs for the girls.”

  “I hadn’t really gotten them anything. That stroller was yours.”

  “Shane would love to use your name for buzz about the town, and my mom would love to use it for buzz about my movie, but can you honestly say you can play a secondary role as a father who doesn’t have custody? That you’ll be able to listen to those girls call Mitch Daddy instead of you? If you can answer me that, maybe you can answer how you’ll approach the role of Mike Moody.”

  Wyatt felt battered. Ashley wasn’t throwing sucker punches. These were blows he saw coming and couldn’t deflect. He needed to pull away, step back, rebuild the Wyatt Halford persona from the ground up.

  The only question was: Was Wyatt Halford a man who could play a sidekick on-screen and in real life?

  His phone had the breakdown Wyatt was trying not to have. Vibrating with a text message. Incoming call ringing. It jangled along with his nerves.

  The text overlaid the call screen.

  HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?

  Brandon. He was calling, too.

  Wyatt picked up.

  “You can’t accept a role in Ashley Monroe’s movie. If Jess Watanabe sees this—and he will—your chances at this lottery-winning payday are nil.”

  Ashley had to have heard every word. Her expression hadn’t changed since she’d asked him her multimillion-dollar questions.

  “Hang on. Slow down. What happened?”

  “There’s a post on social media...”

  * * *

  “YOU DID ALL THIS?” Dad stared at her laptop screen after Gabby begged to make one last change to something.

  The computer had opened to the social-media page. He scrolled through her fan-page posts.

  “You’re going to apologize to Wyatt for posting those pictures of him,” Dad said in an icy voice. “It’s an invasion of privacy.”

  And he hadn’t even read any of the text. He’d scrolled by the latest post so fast, she hadn’t been able to either.

  “But, Dad! Everyone contributed to the pictures. And Wyatt even posed for a lot of them.”

  Genevieve took one look at Gabby’s face and jumped in to defend her. “Now, Mitch...”

  “I was talking to my daughter.” Dad’s voice had that hard quality he normally reserved for Holden Monroe, the tone he used to use on Shane before they’d worked out their differences, the tone he seldom used on Gabby. “I suspect there’s more going on here than just pictures. Am I right?”

  Across the room, Laurel was finishing up with wardrobe, dismissing cast members, who scurried toward the makeshift changing room.

  Gabby hung her head. “Shane got a bunch of us in town to take Wyatt and Ashley’s picture.”

  “Why?” His frown deepened.

  “We’re helping spread the word about Mike Moody and—”

  “Mike Moody.” Dad glared at the cast, who were staring at him in silence. “I’m getting kind of tired of hearing about that guy and his film.”

  “Are you?” Genevieve asked. “Or are you just angry that my daughter and yours are spending their time furthering his story instead of obeying your every command?”

  Shoot. Dad hadn’t let Gabby tell him that the pictures were supposed to pressure Wyatt into signing the paternity release papers, too. “Dad, Shane said—”

  “I don’t want to hear any more about what Shane said.” Dad stared across the lobby at Laurel, who sank down on the couch, looking as uncertain as Gabby felt. “Gabby, what have I told you about getting caught up in Shane’s plans?”

  “Not to.” Gabby’s shoulders were folding in on her.

  “Mitch, I think you’re being unfair,” Genevieve said.

  “You would,” Dad snapped. “Come on, Gabby.” He grabbed his keys and charged toward the door, expecting Gabby to follow.

  * * *

  “WHO’S BEHIND THE town’s social-media page?” Wyatt asked, voice rising loud enough to shake the church’s rafters. “You?”

  “What? No. Shane thought—”

  “I need to see Shane.” Wyatt led Ashley out of the church. “Someone just posted that picture Jonah took of us and said I was going to be in your film.”

  “As if you’d ever consider it now,” Ashley muttered.

  They were close enough to the inn that he could see Mitch pull out in an older-mod
el SUV and head north. It looked like Gabby was in the passenger seat.

  “Why do you want to see Shane?” Ashley asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Wyatt marched down the hill. “It was Shane who came to find me. Not you or your mother. It was Shane who stole my spark plugs. And just now, you said it was Shane who wanted to use me for buzz.”

  “Slow down. The picture Jonah just took?”

  “Yes. And the caption is going to cost me millions.” It didn’t matter that just yesterday he’d been considering walking away from the sci-fi thriller. That had been his choice. But this... Someone was taking the reins out of his hands. “Is Shane at the Bucking Bull? I have to get this straightened out ASAP.”

  “That’s not a good idea, Wyatt.” Ashley wasn’t keeping up with him. She lagged about twenty feet back. “Not today. And I don’t think Shane posted that picture.”

  Wyatt swung back around, closing the distance between them. “You need to be there, too. Where is he?”

  “He’s at Davey’s Camp for Cowboys and Cowgirls. It’s the first day of the new session.”

  Wyatt gritted his teeth. “Take me to your leader, Ash.”

  “He’s not my leader.” Ashley made a half-hearted defense. “And you’ll gain nothing by picking a fight with him.”

  “He’s the Monroe leader,” Wyatt said with a nod. “And I need to see him. I bet he’s the one who posted about Laurel’s pregnancy. Does that sound like a trusted family member to you?”

  “If it was him, he meant well.”

  “That remains to be seen.” He strode forward, passing the tree he and Holden had crashed into the night before. “When we get to the inn, grab your car keys. Thanks to Shane, I can’t drive myself.” Not that he knew where this camp was in the first place.

  “Oh, yes, you can.” Ashley sped ahead of him.

  “If that’s an offer to take your rental, thanks. But you can’t get out of this trip so easily.”

  As they approached the inn, cast members were spilling out of the place with more urgency than they’d filled it.

  She stopped and turned. “Wyatt, I meant you can drive yourself in your own rental.” She sighed. “Shane never stole your spark plugs.”

  “But you said he did.” Wyatt had taken her at her word. “Okay, change of plans. Wait for me downstairs while I retrieve my keys. Like it or not, you’re coming with me.”

  * * *

  “ASHLEY.” MOM HELD out a hand when Ashley and Wyatt entered the lobby. She looked pained. “Thank heavens you’re here. There was an argument and Mitch stormed out with Gabby.”

  Similarly, Wyatt stormed up the stairs.

  “Mitch and Laurel fought?” Ashley rushed into the apartment, expecting to find Laurel in her bedroom in tears.

  She was in tears, just not in her bedroom. Laurel sat in her usual kitchen chair. “He was upset about Gabby, but it was my fault. He wanted me to rest and I wanted to finish the costume fittings. He got frustrated and I think he went to find Shane.”

  Ashley hugged Laurel. “I’ll find them. In the meantime, you should rest.”

  “She’s exhausted,” Mom said. “Just look at her. She hasn’t gotten any sleep.”

  “She’s not going to get much sleep of any kind once the babies arrive.” Ashley knelt next to her sister. “It’s official. I’m putting you on maternity leave.”

  “What? I can sketch with my feet up. You need me.” She wiped her wet cheeks, but then her face crumpled.

  “Ashley.” Wyatt appeared in the door. “Let’s go.”

  “Mr. Halford,” Mom said in her most superior tone. “We’re having a family crisis here.”

  “When aren’t the Monroes having a crisis?” Wyatt made the come-hither gesture with his hand. “Time’s a wasting.”

  Laurel’s gaze took in Ashley and then Wyatt’s retreating back. And for the first time in what seemed like forever, it felt like Laurel knew exactly what Ashley was thinking: he’s as upset as Mitch.

  “I didn’t want this for you,” Laurel said.

  “Ashley!” Wyatt called from the inn’s outer door.

  “I’m going to see this through to the end,” Ashley told them.

  “This? What this?” Mom looked perplexed.

  “Everything.”

  * * *

  DAVEY’S CAMP FOR Cowboys and Cowgirls was indeed open for campers.

  Wyatt had to drive past the main gates and up the gravel drive toward the Bucking Bull just to find a parking spot. Ashley hadn’t said more than six words to him the entire drive.

  “Head north.”

  “Turn left.”

  “Right there.”

  If Wyatt had been in a calmer mindset, he’d have appreciated the picturesque small cabins dotted along the edge of a small lake. The camp was teeming with parents carrying luggage and sleeping bags. There was chatter and laughter but no kids racing about. The children coming to camp had metal walking canes and walkers. Some even had electric wheelchairs.

  “I told you today isn’t the best day for this,” Ashley said. “Oh, jeez. There’s Mitch.”

  Laurel’s fiancé stood at the main gate, arms crossed. Gabby stood next to him. And standing at the entrance was the man Wyatt was determined to see. Shane Monroe.

  He marched toward his goal.

  Mitch spotted him and acknowledged him with a one-word greeting. “Wyatt.”

  “Mitch.” Wyatt hit his stride just as he drew up equal with Mitch.

  Laurel’s fiancé held out an arm to stop him. “If it’s Shane you want, you’ll have to wait in line. I’m first.”

  Gabby tried a weak smile.

  “If you know anything about Wyatt Halford, you know he always goes to the head of the line.” Wyatt pushed Mitch’s hand away.

  “Not today, Hollywood.” Mitch’s voice was as hard as the first day they’d met, when he’d demanded Wyatt forgo his paternal rights.

  “Can we at least take this conversation up the road?” Ashley asked, gesturing at the crowd of campers and parents.

  “No,” both Mitch and Wyatt told her.

  Ashley took one look at Gabby and put her arm around her.

  “Gentlemen.” Shane passed through the gates and into unprotected territory. “Welcome to Davey’s Camp. We appreciate the community and celebrity support.” He had the same galling confidence he’d shown in South America when he’d insisted Wyatt show up in Second Chance.

  “Do you have no shame?” Mitch demanded in a low voice. He glanced around at the campers and their parents, who were beginning to take note of Ashley and Wyatt. “I told you we needed to talk in private.”

  Wyatt thought about calling them on their claim for privacy now. But Ashley laid her hand on his arm, much the same as she had the first day he’d arrived in Second Chance.

  Shane’s smile never dimmed. But his gaze swung to something behind them. “Welcome to Davey’s Camp for Cowboys and Cowgirls.” A family bringing campers approached. “We’ve got a surprise for you today. Movie stars Wyatt Halford and Ashley Monroe.”

  Mitch turned to Wyatt with a grin. “Your complaint will have to wait, Mr. Halford. He’s all mine now.”

  Except Shane came up and stood between Wyatt and Ashley. He even had the nerve to drape his arms over their shoulders. “Who wants their photo taken?”

  * * *

  “GABBY, WHY DON’T you and Ashley wait somewhere else?”

  That was Mitch, who’d cooled his jets while Wyatt and Ashley had spent thirty minutes having their picture taken with kids.

  “They both stay,” Wyatt snapped, barely containing his temper. “Let them see Shane’s true colors.”

  The group was following Shane up the gravel drive and away from campers and their parents. When they’d passed the last parked vehicle, Shane turned and crossed his arms. “All right. Hit me. W
hat’s this all about?”

  “You used my daughter to take pictures of Wyatt!” Mitch accused at the same time that Wyatt snarled, “You posted on the internet that Laurel was pregnant!”

  Wyatt had to add, “And you just posted that I was going to star in Ashley’s movie.”

  “Well, you don’t have to sound like you didn’t want to,” Ashley murmured.

  Acting must have run in the Monroe family, because Shane’s expression didn’t shift. Not one iota. “These are serious charges.”

  “Shane.” Mitch took a step forward, but Gabby latched on to his hand.

  “No, Dad.”

  Wyatt gladly took his place. “Shane...”

  Gabby grabbed Wyatt’s hand. “Don’t. Please.”

  Shane stared at Gabby and his expression softened. “Do you have something you want to say, honey?”

  Gabby dropped Mitch’s and Wyatt’s hands. “It was me.”

  “I don’t understand.” Mitch seemed to flounder.

  “Operation Snaparazzi was my idea, Dad. Taking pictures of Wyatt and Ashley, and posting them. I asked Shane if we should do it.”

  “And of course, he said yes.” Mitch regained his footing and his scowl.

  “You used a little girl in your nefarious plans.” Wyatt practically growled the words. “Is there no line you won’t cross?”

  “Nefarious?” Shane chuckled. “You must be spending time with Jonah. He’s the wordsmith in the family.”

  “This isn’t a joke.” Wyatt’s hands fisted. “You came up with a plot to get me here and ruin my career.”

  “You mean the invitation so that you could decide whether or not you wanted to be a father?” Shane tsked. “I’ll admit to that.”

  “The pregnancy post...” Gabby stood tall, but her cheeks were flaming. “That was me.”

  “What?” Wyatt blurted.

  “Gabby.” Mitch froze.

  Even Ashley seemed taken aback.

  “It was an accident.” Gabby’s eyes pleaded for forgiveness. “A few weeks ago, I put the information in, just to see how it looked, and then I closed my laptop, and when I opened it again, it had been added. I never even pushed Save!”