The Littlest Cowgirls--A Clean Romance

by Melinda Curtis

  Wyatt could see Ashley was torn. He was dead on his feet, drained emotionally, but he wasn’t going to let her brave the waters alone. “Come on. Let’s circulate and then make our excuses.”

  “Wonderful.” Genevieve hooked her arms through each of theirs and marched up the slope.

  “Sober today?” Wyatt asked.

  “Delightfully so.” Genevieve nodded. “Cam mixed up a wonderful hangover cure. It’s the clearest I’ve felt in days.”

  “Cured of your obsession with Dad’s date?” Ashley asked.

  “Delightfully so.” Genevieve nodded again. “She caught sight of your cousin Bo and had a case of instalove. Best news I’ve had in years.”

  They reached the first cluster of guests.

  “Here’s Hollywood’s latest power couple.” Ashley’s father drew them into his circle of friends, leaving Genevieve huffing as he showed them off to other studio heads. “Ashley’s launching her own production company. She hopes to focus on women-driven stories. Her first project is a western set here in the Idaho mountains.” He gave his daughter a one-armed, sideways hug. “And you all know Wyatt and his penchant for action movies. I hear good things about his latest summer film. I’m sure audiences will forget that turn as a villain rather quickly. Why don’t you two tell everyone what you two are up to?”

  “Because you told them for us, Dad.” Ashley spoke with such grace that it smoothed the barb in her words. She greeted everyone in the circle.

  Wyatt was mostly ignored, which he chalked up to exhaustion and his inability to make small talk.

  After a few minutes, Ashley took his arm. “If you’ll excuse us, we’ve had a long day at the hospital and my mother says we need to circulate.” She was amazing.

  Before he could offer his thanks, she’d guided them over to a nearby circle of Hollywood executives. Ashley’s brother, Jonah, stood among them, looking like the cat who ate the cream. He’d probably been pitching script ideas like lobbed water balloons.

  “Welcome to the producers’ circle.” A skinny man with too much energy peppered Ashley with questions about the progress on her film. “If you need any advice, just call me.”

  Wyatt was admired but mostly ignored. This time, he thought it was rather odd.

  An older woman leaned in to whisper, “We’re mostly indie film producers. We know we can’t afford you for our passion projects. Most actors who sign on for an indie do so for barely above scale.”

  Wyatt knew that was more like a wish than truth, but he gave them a bit more effort, asking about their projects and earning a smile from both Ashley and Genevieve.

  What? They thought he didn’t know how to do this?

  They went toward a group of directors next. Wyatt held Ashley’s arm and steered her toward Jess. The multitalented, silver-haired director welcomed them both warmly.

  “Hey, Jess.” Wyatt gave the man a firm handshake. “I’m sorry about the way things went down. But you know, it’s never over...”

  Jess clapped a hand on Wyatt’s shoulder. “I backed out of the project. There are other films in the works that interest me.” He nodded toward Ashley.

  “The Ballad of Mike Moody?” Wyatt glanced from Ashley to Jess. “Really? Why?”

  The old director’s grip tightened on Wyatt. “I’ve always thought you had more depth to you. And now that you’re with Ashley, I can see it more clearly than ever. It would be an honor to direct this film.” His hand fell away.

  “Great.” Wyatt straightened, feeling not so great. In fact, he felt a bit like Ashley’s accessory, especially when Jess cut between himself and Ashley.

  Genevieve was there to hook her arm through Wyatt’s, as if he was the most important person in the circle, not Ashley.

  The group fragmented. Ashley and a half dozen directors looking for work, and Wyatt and a half dozen directors looking for actors. How did he know? The pitches started.

  “We’re looking for someone who can play a retired navy SEAL whose car breaks down in a remote mountain town.”

  “Second Chance?” Wyatt joked, although it wasn’t funny.

  “That’s so predictable,” said another director. “I’m working on a horror film.”

  “Does the hero have a brainy sidekick?” Wyatt kept that smile on his face.

  “Have you ever considered cozy mysteries?” said another.

  “Only as bedtime reading.” Who did these people think he was?

  Their pitches became muffled background noise because one thing was becoming clear—Wyatt was no longer a hot commodity. Ashley was. And just as annoyance should be bubbling past his smile, Wyatt realized that he wasn’t really annoyed. He was happy for Ashley. Proud even that he’d been a part of her journey to this point. At this point.

  Emotion gripped his throat as firmly as it had at the hospital when he’d told Mitch whose name to put on Hope’s and Hazel’s birth certificates. He didn’t want to step away from Ashley, not for a moment. But he hadn’t wanted to step aside for the girls either. But he’d done so because it was the right thing to do.

  Music began playing through speakers that must have been hidden behind flowers. A slow love song. A few people moved into an open space to dance. Ashley was still deep in conversation. Gabby stood on the edge of the crowd, not really belonging anywhere.

  Wyatt approached her, half expecting the preteen to dart away when his intent was clear. “May I have this dance?”

  Gabby held her head high. “Only if you’ll forgive me.”

  “For bringing me to Second Chance and letting me see the babies?” For giving him a chance to fall in love with Ashley and feel for at least a short while that he was part of a community and a family again? “Of course I forgive you, Gabby. I just needed time to cool down.”

  “You may have this dance.” She extended her hand.

  He took it and led her to the dance floor, drawing her carefully in his arms because he’d suddenly become aware of a need to treat little girls with kid gloves. “You are going to break a lot of hearts, young lady.”

  She drew back to look at him before casting a glance toward Holden’s teenage son.

  “Just not this week.” He smiled.

  “I can’t wait to get older.”

  “And I...” He spun her around and back into his arms. “I can wait, because these are the days when the true character and heart of a young lady shine through.”

  “This is why you have so many fans like me.” She grinned. “Because you’re poetic and kind, and, oh, the babies are super lucky to have you.”

  He didn’t correct her assumption. When the song was over, he twirled her over to Devin. “I think it’s your turn.”

  Gabby blushed beet red.

  “That was so sweet.” Ashley appeared at his side. “Maybe next year I’ll crown you America’s Sweetheart. Ready to go?”

  “Yes.”

  It took them another ten minutes to break free of the guests on the fringe.

  “Wyatt.” Ashley placed a hand over his when he would have opened the door to the inn for her. It was reminiscent of how things had played out only a few days ago. At any moment, she’d kiss him. At any moment, he’d sweep her into his arms.

  She didn’t. He didn’t. They didn’t move.

  “I want to thank you for making this possible,” she said in a small voice. “You goaded me out of my shell this past week, whether you want to admit it or not.”

  “Some might say bully,” he murmured, trying not to stare at her lips. “And for the record, you were already operating without a shell when I got here.” It was the truth, and he took some joy in pointing it out to her.

  “I realize that meet and greet over there was painful for you. My mother greased the wheels for me, not you. I know you felt like a sidekick, but you hung in there and I love you for it.” Before he could thank her, she rushed o
n. “And I love you. I’ve known it for some time, and this isn’t romantic or the way anything is supposed to go, but before you disappear into actionlandia, I thought you should know that.”

  No one knocked Wyatt Halford off-kilter. No one but Ashley Monroe, who loved him.

  But she wasn’t done with her speech. “I’d like to officially offer you the role of Mike Moody. I’ll have my people send the nondisclosure agreement to your people in the morning. And I can assure you that whatever you decide about the role, I will be a professional about my feelings.” Except her eyes were misty and she swallowed thickly.

  Now was the time to kiss her and tell her he felt the same, except, how could he tell her that? How could he accept her love when he hadn’t been willing to step up and love Hope and Hazel?

  “Oops.” Gabby skipped up the porch steps, destroying the atmosphere. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  Ashley opened the door. Wyatt and Gabby followed her in.

  “You’ll consider the role?” Ashley asked, frowning slightly. She’d just declared her love and offered him a job, after all, and he’d said nothing about either one.

  “Yes.” It was a win.

  She’d be shooting in Second Chance. Laurel and the babies would be in Second Chance. His stint as Uncle Wyatt could begin.

  Uncle Wyatt.

  The title felt heavy on his shoulders, but he thanked Ashley for the part and then excused himself, heading straight for his room. Noting the time Ashley mentioned that he needed to be dressed for the Old West Festival in the morning.

  Once in his room, Wyatt broke down the inversion table and put together the antique bed. He needed to leave tomorrow before he did something incredibly stupid, like tell Ashley he loved her, too. She’d never agree with his decision regarding the babies, and it would break her heart, if he hadn’t done so already. There had been tears at the hospital.

  Gabby knocked on his open door. “You need to read this.” She handed him a thick script.

  “Where did you get that?” he asked.

  “Ashley left it downstairs.” Gabby shrugged. “She offered you the role and she probably won’t miss it until morning. It can be our secret.”

  Wyatt knew he should turn her down. He was going to perform in the Old West Festival tomorrow, but he wasn’t going to take the role of Mike Moody in Ashley’s film. Not because he couldn’t be a supporting player but because he’d changed his mind. He couldn’t stand to be near Ashley and not be allowed to openly love her.

  He bade Gabby good-night and settled down to read.

  On his second time through the script, he received a text from Mitch. Or rather a picture via text. Laurel had filled out the birth certificates and entered Wyatt’s name on the line where Mitch’s should have been.

  And then an explanation rolled in.

  COULDN’T STOP HER. DIDN’T WANT TO, PAPA WYATT. WELCOME TO THE FAMILY.

  Mitch and Laurel wanted him to be part of their family. He wasn’t a threat to them or a nuisance. He was Papa Wyatt.

  He went to the window, not to stare out into the night, but to look at his own reflection.

  He was many things. And today, he’d earned the title of Dad.

  His heart felt full, but not quite full enough.

  * * *

  “THAT WAS WEIRD.” Gabby entered the apartment, shutting the door behind her.

  “What was?” Grandma Gen sat at the table sorting business cards as if she was playing solitaire.

  “Pretending I was sharing a secret when you told me to do it.” Gabby went to the counter and cut a piece of wedding cake. “Plus it was lying. Ashley picked up her laptop and her copy of the script right after Wyatt went up to his room.”

  “I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this.” Jonah stood near the refrigerator, arms crossed and brows knitted.

  Grandma Gen tsked. “We needed a script. How else were we going to make Wyatt and Ashley see reason, dear Jonah? By morning, you’ll be a hero.”

  Jonah made his escape out the side door, calling over his shoulder, “By morning, Ashley will fire me, dear mother.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I was looking for you everywhere at the smithy.” Ashley burst into Wyatt’s room in full Letty costume—that flouncy pink-and-black dress. The double layers of costume were too cumbersome to run around in. She was hot, sweaty and breathless. At the sight of Wyatt, her stomach dropped. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

  “I overslept.” He wore blue jeans and a T-shirt. He hadn’t even put his cowboy boots on yet. He handed her a script. “It’s brilliant. Beautiful, gritty, powerful. The blacksmith tries to save Letty from joining the gang and accidentally shoots her during an attempted robbery. It’s a tragedy, not a romance.”

  “Yes.” Ashley stared at the script. “Where did you get a copy? You haven’t signed anything.” And wait until she told Jonah what Wyatt had said about his script. Not that she had time to think about that now. “This isn’t the script for today’s performance. Tell me you learned your lines.”

  “I learned my lines, Ashley.” He closed the door behind her. His Mike Moody suit hung from a hanger in the open closet. “I learned all my lines.”

  “Wyatt—”

  “You should sit down.” He helped her to sit on the bed. “You look lovely today. Beautiful. You glow.”

  “If you’re buttering me up because you can’t perform in the festival, Wyatt, I need to go find Rich and Jonah.”

  “Ashley. Ash.” Wyatt got down on one knee, pushing her skirts to the side and then taking her hand. “I know you offered me the role of Mike Moody, Ash, but I want to read for the role of Jeb Clark, the blacksmith.”

  “But he hardly has any stunts or fights or shoot-outs.” Things Wyatt’s fans would expect. Things he’d told her he wanted to focus on. But wait. “You want to read for the role?” He wasn’t asking for it to be handed to him?

  “Let me explain. It’s important.” Except he merely stared at her, grinning.

  “Wyatt, I would love for you to explain, but we have a performance in thirty minutes. At least tell me you’re going to play Mike Moody today.”

  “Yes. I can play Mike today. In fact, I could play him in the film version, too. It’s just that I don’t want to.”

  “I’m confused.” Ashley drew a slow, calming breath, reminding herself that Wyatt had been through a lot in the past week and she shouldn’t judge him for not behaving rationally this morning.

  “Listen, Ash. Yesterday, when those Hollywood people were happy to meet me, every one of them was clambering to work with you, and the thought crossed my mind that I was standing in your shadow.”

  “Okay.” Ashley tapped her antique wristwatch. “At least put on your costume while we talk.” And didn’t she sound like a problem-solving director or producer?

  Wyatt stood and stripped off his T-shirt, revealing muscles and muscles and muscles to spare. He began putting on Mike Moody’s shirt, tie and jacket. “But here’s the thing, Ash. While I was in your shadow, I didn’t resent it. I was proud of you and genuinely wanted you to succeed.”

  “That’s...great?” Where was he going with this?

  “I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true.” He snagged his trousers off the hanger and disappeared into the bathroom. “I should have told you when we were walking back to the inn, but I was thinking that since I was leaving that I probably shouldn’t try. And then when you told me you loved me, I should have told you that I felt the same way—blindsided by the one person in the world who seems to recognize who I am and what my fears are.” He poked his head out of the bathroom. “What are my fears, Ash?”

  “Besides not playing a role with the most lines of dialogue.” She tapped her chin, although she didn’t have to think long. “I’d say you fear confronting your family about your mother’s death.”

/>   He closed the door again. “See? You know me so well.”

  Then why was it just now sinking in that he’d said he loved her? Ashley got to her feet. “Can we run back through some of those last lines?”

  “The part where I admit that I love you madly?” The door flew open and he stood there in Mike Moody’s cheap western suit. “Yeah, I thought you’d like that.” He placed his hands on her waist and spun her around the room. “But maybe we should wait to talk about that until I confess that I’m going to be Papa Wyatt to Hope and Hazel.”

  Ashley had to sit back down on the bed. She was so dizzy. “I don’t understand.”

  He began putting on the old-west boots Laurel had found, which had lots of laces. She’d never seen anyone tie those laces that fast. “Last night, Laurel filled out the birth certificates with my name on them. And as much as it makes sense to be Uncle Wyatt, I just knew. The time to fight for my right to continue down the same old path had passed. I need to blaze a new trail, try new things, love out loud.” He brought her to her feet. “Because I love you, Ashley. And I’m going to love those girls and be their second dad, because that’s okay, too.”

  “I love you,” Ashley said simply, because she did, and he was so larger than life that the simplest of words seemed to do.

  And then he was sweeping her into his arms and marching down the hallway. “She loves me!” He set her down at the top of the staircase. “Does that mean she’ll marry me?”

  “She will indeed, because she loves you.” That earned her a quick kiss.

  They raced down the stairs together.

  Mom stood near the check-in desk, smiling, which was not like her.

  Gabby threw open the front door. “They’re calling for you guys!”

  Ashley and Wyatt didn’t waste a second and hurried to the smithy through a thick crowd of fans who waved and cheered when they saw them but got out of their way.

  Before they began the performance, Wyatt gave her a kiss that promised to love, honor and cherish. And when he was finished, he touched his forehead to hers. “For Jeb and Letty.”