Falling for the Rebel Cowboy

by Allison B. Collins

  “It doesn’t matter?” she repeated. “Of course it matters.”

  “Francine, nothing matters except getting this merger finalized with the board members today.” He came back in and leaned on her desk. “You know damn good and well what’s at stake here.”

  She touched the note from Wyatt again, like a talisman. “Yeah, I do. Love.”

  Her dad pushed off the desk. “Screw that. This is important to me, to us. To my damn company.”

  “Is money all you care about?”

  “I haven’t seen you complain about having it. What, you want to chuck it all and go live in the middle of nowhere with that ranch hand? He’s not right for you. He even admitted it to me himself.”

  She rose, barely keeping her tone civil. “He’s a hell of a lot more than a ranch hand. He has standards, morals, values. He cares about his family, the land. He cares about me and Johnny. And I think he’s perfect for us.”

  “Stop with that ridiculous nickname.”

  “Do you know why Wyatt calls him Johnny? He lets him be a kid, not a little version of you. Johnny was happy on the ranch. When was the last time you saw him laugh before we left for Montana?”

  Her father looked taken aback as he paced away, then back to her desk. “You’re an important part of my company. I was going to announce it after the board meeting, but I’ll tell you now. I’m promoting you to chief operating officer, effective immediately.”

  The news left her reeling. She’d worked hard all her life to get here. Now she was a step closer to CEO. “Wow. I can’t believe it. I—” She glanced at the note on her desk, and the seed of a doubt unfurled in her stomach. “When did you decide to promote me? Before or after you found out about this?” She waved the note in the air.

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m still promoting you. What you’ve always wanted. We’ll be running my company—our company—together.”

  The picture in the ornate glass frame on her desk caught her eye. Johnny.

  Being COO would mean even more hours. Less time with her sweet baby boy.

  She remembered all those times she’d sat in her father’s office late at night as he worked. Hoping for his attention, that he’d spend time with her outside the office.

  “Why aren’t you happy about the promotion?” he asked.

  She looked up at him. “Do you know why I started working here?” She spoke slowly. “I don’t love this job or this company. I just wanted you to love me...”

  “I’ve always loved you. But after the divorce, and your mother leaving to find herself, I didn’t know how to be a dad. All I knew was work.” He faltered, checking his watch. “Let’s talk later tonight, okay? Right now we need to get to the boardroom.” He kissed her cheek and walked out the door.

  This was a dream come true. She’d hoped of becoming CEO one day after her father retired, and now, the opportunity to actually have a say in running the company was happening much faster than she’d thought.

  But at what cost?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Wyatt drove the tractor into the barn, shut the engine down and climbed off. Nash sat on the stool by the workbench.

  “I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you in New York.”

  Wyatt shrugged.

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  “Nope.”

  “You’ve been calm since you got back—too calm.”

  He finally looked up at his oldest brother. “And that’s a problem?”

  “It is when there’s stuff building up inside. You need a way to let it go.”

  “So I should go back to throwing things around? Punching holes in walls?”

  “Didn’t say that.” Nash pulled a card out of his pocket. “This is someone my counselor recommended.”

  Wyatt stared at the little white card but didn’t touch it. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink.”

  “He’s not a shrink, he’s a grief counselor. I think if you talk to someone, get those feelings out in the open—”

  “That’s just it. I don’t feel anything.”

  And he hadn’t since he realized a few days ago—a lifetime ago—that Frankie and Johnny would never be his. Seeing her in furs and jewels, something he could never give her, hit home the point—they were too different. Now he was completely numb.

  “That’s not good, either.” Nash stood up. “If you won’t go see a counselor, you can always talk to one of us. We’re here for you, bro.”

  Nash walked to the door, the permanent limp a reminder of what he’d suffered and lost.

  A little crack opened in Wyatt’s heart at his brother’s concern, and he pushed the heel of his hand against his chest. “Nash, thanks. I mean it.”

  “That’s what family’s for. Come have dinner with us tonight. You can let Maddy trounce you at Candy Land.”

  Wyatt’s mouth kicked up in half a grin, but as soon as Nash left, it slid off his face.

  The last thing he needed was to be around a family like Nash’s tonight. It would remind him too much of what he’d lost.

  He spent the rest of the day repairing some of the multitude of things on his never-ending list. Sure, he could delegate, but he liked fixing things. He’d always been good with his hands.

  Now it just kept him busy till he could fall into bed at night and not think.

  His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since who knew when. He took a few minutes to clean up the workbench and decided to see what Mrs. Green could whip up for him at the lodge for dinner. He’d make his excuses to Nash in the morning.

  Following the path to the lodge, he thought he heard laughter. He paused, heard it again. It sounded like it was coming from the mud pit—or rather, the still-not-planted vegetable garden. Mrs. Green had been bugging him about it every chance she could. Too late for planting now, it’d be ready for spring.

  “Damn kids,” he muttered. Probably the triples and Toby messing around. They couldn’t resist a muddy hole. Pretty much like him and his brothers when they were growing up.

  He stepped off the sidewalk and cut across the grass, remembering that the last time he’d walked this way had been the day he’d met Frankie.

  He almost tripped over a garden hose snaking across the grass, and he looked up to see who was playing with it.

  Frankie.

  In the mud pit.

  He shook his head, squeezed his eyes shut tight.

  Opened them again.

  Not a mirage.

  Frankie was in the mud pit, hosing down the whole area, wearing a cream-colored coat, copper-colored slacks and high heels. Johnny squatted at the side of the pit, laughing.

  “Frankie?” he croaked, still not believing it.

  She looked up at him and dropped the hose, then crooked her finger and beckoned him closer.

  “What’re you doing?” He wanted to run to her and Johnny, but his damn feet wouldn’t move, and he was frozen in place.

  “Having fun.” She plopped down into the mud, then lay down and moved her arms and legs.

  Suddenly his feet unstuck and he walked closer.

  She was making a snow angel—in the mud.

  Johnny was rolling on the ground, laughing, his giggles the best sound Wyatt had heard in a long time. “Mr. Wyatt!” He got up and launched himself at Wyatt.

  “Hey, bud. I missed you so much,” he said, swinging Johnny up into a hug. “I don’t get it,” he said to her, standing at the edge of the pit.

  She finally stopped moving and sat up, held her hand out to him. “Help me up and I’ll explain.”

  He set Johnny down and leaned forward, grabbed her hand. But she put her other hand on his and yanked, pulling him down on top of her in the mud.

  She grabbed a handful of mud and smeared it on his cheek. Then wrapped her legs around his and rolled him over so he
was flat on his back.

  Mud oozed all around him, the cold seeping through his flannel shirt. But he didn’t care, not if it meant she was back.

  She sat up, still on his thighs. She huffed and fisted her hands on her hips. “Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  “I don’t understand. Why are you here? You must hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you. You came to New York.”

  “I waited seven hours for you. When you finally came out of the office, you never even looked my way.”

  Her face softened, and her hands dropped from her hips. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were at my office. My assistant forgot to give me the envelope until this morning.”

  “How’d you get here so fast if you just got my note this morning?”

  “I swiped the keys to Daddy’s jet.”

  He laughed, then saw she wasn’t smiling. “You serious?”

  “Yup. Well, metaphorical keys. I called the pilot and had him gas up the company jet, file a flight plan. The board meeting finished early—merger complete—so I ran home, packed a few things and Johnny and I sped to the airport.”

  “Did you talk to your dad?”

  “I told him I don’t want Johnny to grow up only getting to spend time with me in the office, like I did with my own father. I thanked him for the promotion to COO—”

  He held a hand up. “Wait a minute. He gave you a promotion to that level? And you turned it down? I thought that’s what you’ve always wanted.”

  Frankie was shaking her head even before he finished speaking. “I realized I don’t want to have a prestigious title and no family life. I want love. I want you. It’s so beautiful out here, and Johnny loves it. He’s never been truly happy in New York, but it took our trip out here for me to realize neither of us were happy there.”

  She cupped his cheeks, and he pressed a kiss to her freezing-cold palm. “You’re what I want, Wyatt. I love you so much.” She kissed him, and he thought his brain would ooze out his ears. “So what was your question?”

  “What question?”

  “You know, from the note you left me.”

  It took a few seconds for her words to register through the fog in his brain.

  “I was going to ask you to marry me.”

  “You were going to ask me—past tense. And now?”

  “Will you marry me? Will you and Johnny be my family?”

  “You better believe it, cowboy.”

  And she kissed him again. Her lips were freezing, his ass was freezing in the mud and it felt like mud was in every pore of his body.

  But he didn’t care. He wrapped her in his arms, held her so tight she’d never get free.

  “Yay!” Johnny shouted, jumping up and down.

  She broke the kiss and sat up, reached over and picked Johnny up, set him down in the mud pit.

  Wyatt looked at Frankie, then at Johnny, and grabbed handfuls of mud at the same time she did, and they both smeared it on Johnny’s coat and khaki pants.

  “So now I can be a real live cowboy?” Johnny asked.

  “Yup,” Wyatt said, and pulled Johnny and Frankie into a very muddy hug.

  Frankie laughed, tears streaking down her beautiful mud-covered face. “You know what they say—the family that plays in the mud together, stays together.”

  And just like that, gone was the pain, gone was his past, gone was the feeling of being alone forever. Sitting in the dirt, he felt washed clean, ready to start a new life.

  Epilogue

  One week later, and it was her wedding day. Kelsey and Bunny had thrown themselves into a flurry of activity with plans. And Francine was extremely grateful for their help. If it had been up to her, she, Wyatt and Johnny would have headed to the courthouse to be married.

  But Bunny had pooh-poohed that idea and told her weddings were an important start to any marriage.

  Francine had already had a big society wedding the first time around—for a marriage that had ended disastrously. This time, she was more than happy to have a quiet wedding with just family and a few friends, right here on the ranch.

  The one thing that put a dark spot on what should have been her happiest day ever was her father. She’d tried calling, sent him an email—and an invitation—asking him to come to her wedding. She’d even copied his assistant to make sure he read the email and opened the invitation.

  He hadn’t responded.

  Obviously he wasn’t happy she’d left the company. Or that she was marrying Wyatt. But couldn’t he at least have flown out to walk her down the aisle?

  Bunny came to the rescue, however, and volunteered Angus to stand in for her father.

  Now it was almost time for Angus to meet her and begin the processional. At least she had some family there—Johnny had been excited to be the ring bearer.

  And Maddy had been so adorable about asking if she could be the flower girl. Francine loved the idea as much as she’d come to love Maddy. That sweet little girl, at only six years of age, had taken Johnny under her wing and made sure he became a solid part of the Sullivan cousins. They were all inseparable, except when Hunter’s boys had to go back and live with their mother in town.

  Bunny handed her a glass of champagne. “Let’s have one more check of your dress, shall we?”

  Francine faced the mirror in the bridal suite of the lodge. She’d wanted a simple dress and found one in ivory with a sweetheart neckline, short sleeves, a lace overlay to the fitted bodice, and a tulle skirt. Simple, understated, elegant.

  She pulled the skirt up enough to let her ivory cowboy boots peek out. Wyatt had found them for her, and she loved them. Forgoing a veil, she’d just curled her hair and pulled it back on one side with a silver comb.

  A knock sounded at the door. Bunny opened it a crack, then let Kelsey in.

  “Oh, Frankie. You look beautiful!” Kelsey sniffled into a handkerchief. “Damn pregnancy hormones.”

  “You feeling all right?” Francine asked her.

  “Fine. I’m so happy for you and Wyatt.”

  Since they had bonded from the beginning of the working retreat, she’d asked Kelsey to be her matron of honor.

  “I’m supposed to give this to you now, Frankie,” Kelsey said and handed her a small white shopping bag.

  Francine read the note on the bag.

  In case you need something blue. Wyatt.

  She opened the bag and pulled out a lacy white garter, then heard what sounded like a small bell. She turned the garter over and saw a miniature turquoise cowbell with writing on it.

  I’ll love you till the cows come home.

  She burst out laughing and clutched it to her chest. For being such a brooding, enigmatic cowboy, Wyatt could always make her laugh. Raising her skirt, she immediately slipped it on over her boot and up her leg to sit just below her knee.

  “Frankie, do you have your phone or a camera handy?” Bunny asked from beside the window.

  She picked up her phone, held it up. “Why?”

  “You’ve got to see this. It’s the most adorable thing.”

  Francine walked to the window and peered out between the curtains. Wyatt and Johnny were walking up the path, dressed in matching outfits of dark jeans, white shirts, black ties, black vests and black tux jackets. And of course their matching black cowboy hats and boots.

  Wyatt held Johnny’s hand as they walked, deep in conversation, looking at each other.

  Francine’s eyes welled up, and she fumbled for the camera app, taking a ton of pictures through the window.

  “You have to stop crying now, Frankie. You’ll ruin your beautiful makeup,” Kelsey said and handed her a tissue. “And then I’ll have to start crying with you.”

  Another knock sounded at the door.

  “That should be Angus to take you downstairs,” Bunny said, and
cracked the door open. “Oh, well. Hello,” she said and stepped back.

  The door opened wider, and Francine’s father walked into the suite.

  Bunny and Kelsey exchanged a glance then slipped out and quietly closed the door.

  “Dad!”

  “Am I still invited?”

  She launched herself into his open arms. “Of course you are,” she said, laughing and crying at the same time.

  He hugged her tight, then stepped back, held her at arm’s length. “You’re a beautiful bride, Francine. You’re glowing. I’m willing to admit I was wrong about Wyatt if he makes you this happy. I’m sorry, daughter.”

  “He does make me happy, and he loves Johnny like he was his own flesh and blood.”

  “That’s good. Because if he ever makes you cry, or hurts you in any way, he’ll have to answer to me.”

  “I didn’t think you were coming.”

  “I almost didn’t. I have to admit I was furious at you for leaving. But then I remembered what you said the day of the board meeting.”

  She cocked her head.

  “You said you started working with me so I would notice you and love you. It broke my heart to have you think I don’t truly love you. I’ve always been immensely proud of you, Francine. I don’t want you to leave the company.”

  “Dad, I don’t want to live in New York—none of us do. Wyatt and Johnny would both wither and die in that big city. And after falling in love with this place, I probably would, too.”

  Her father held a hand up. “That’s not what I meant. What if you stay on as a consultant? You can work from here, fly in every so often if you’re needed.”

  Francine grinned. “I think I’d like that. Can I talk to Wyatt later? I’m about to be a little busy for the next few hours.”

  “Of course. Take your time and let me know.” He checked his watch. “Now, I think it’s time we get you down the aisle, don’t you?”

  He opened the door to the suite, and she picked up her bouquet of sweetheart roses and linked her arm in his, so grateful he’d had a change of heart and come to see her get married.

  And admit he was wrong about her soon-to-be husband.