Frisco Joe's Fiancee

by Tina Leonard

  “Yes.” His eyes were patient, waiting.

  “And you know what I told you about the sign painted on the wall across the street that said Save A Horse; Ride A Cowboy?”

  “Yes, babe.”

  “Cowboys try to stay on for eight seconds, right?”

  “Mm. If they want to win.”

  “My experience at the rodeo ended before the bell. Or the buzzer, or the gong, or whatever it is that—”

  “Annabelle.” He pulled back to look into her eyes. “Honey, you’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?”

  “It was my first and only time,” she said miserably.

  “Whew.” He glanced from her to Emmie. “You must be one fertile lady. Holy Christmas, and we’ve got three sets of twins amongst my siblings alone. You could be the gift that keeps on giving.”

  She tried to smile.

  “So…no sweethearts before Him-Who-Had-No-Staying-Power?”

  “No. My father had Alzheimer’s for ten years. I was his sole caretaker because I wanted it that way. I don’t regret it for a minute. But it left me without a social life, the usual flings and break-ups and drama that are part of normal learning. And then, when my father passed away, I was shattered,” she said quietly. “I think I just wanted someone to care for me for a change. You can see why I don’t want any more children. At least not right now.”

  He hugged her to him, close and sheltering. “I completely understand. I don’t want any except Emmie. I mean, you know what I mean. Best friends and all that. Uncle Frisco.”

  Her blush felt like it was all over her body. “I was afraid you’d be disappointed.”

  “Because you don’t want more children?” At her nod, he said, “Annabelle, you don’t even begin to know how relieved I am. Count the brothers around my house and tell me we need more bodies to fall over.”

  She lowered her gaze. “And you’re not disappointed about…the other?”

  “The other what?”

  “My lack of experience in pleasing a man?”

  He laughed out loud. “Annabelle, you please this man. As far as I can see, I’m getting the best of all worlds here. I get a sexy lady, a best friend and a virgin all wrapped up in one, plus a sweet baby to hold that’s mine in spirit. Where am I lacking?”

  “Frisco, you see me in a light I’ve never seen myself,” she said shyly.

  “Well, that’s because I can see in the dark,” he said confidently. “And right now I’m going to see you, and feel you, and hold you, and take you. And before the night is over, you’re going to know what it means to be really loved. I’ve got plenty of those things you found in my drawer—”

  “I remember. Striped with fluorescent colors,” she said. “Stars and an interesting device on the tip for maximum pleasure.”

  “And I can hang on well past the bell, Annabelle. I would never let you down.”

  “Oh, my gosh,” she said on a moan, as he opened her shirt and suckled her breasts.

  Then he kissed her lips before moving back to lick each nipple. “Tonight, we’re going to test just how sound Emmie can sleep. Because I won’t have done my job unless they hear you come across the street. Can you count to eight, Annabelle?” he murmured against her skin.

  “Yes,” she whispered, her whole body beginning to tremble at the possessive, meaningful promise behind Frisco’s words.

  “Then let’s see about saving some horses.”

  He slid her blouse to the floor.

  THE ONLY THING THAT could move Annabelle to leave her bed the next morning was Emmie urgently requesting a feeding time.

  “I’ll get her,” Frisco said, kissing Annabelle on the lips before he swung his bad leg to the side of the bed. “Come here, little princess. Let’s me and you go hunt big game bah-bah. Where’s the kitchen, pretty mama?”

  Annabelle practically cackled into her pillow, loving Frisco’s ridiculous chit-chat with her daughter and his silliness in general. “At the end of the hall is a mini-fridge and microwave. Eight,” she said on a groan. “I stopped counting, but I’m pretty sure it was eight.” Frisco had loved her until she screamed, laughed, cried and sometimes was torn between which she should do. It was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to her.

  And he still got up to feed her baby. “I don’t know, Frisco. If I’d met you first, I’m sure I would have fallen in love with you. I never would have even seen another man,” she muttered facedown in the pillow.

  “What’s that?” he said, coming back into the room with a bottle and Emmie.

  “Nothing. I was just saying how glad I am that we’re best friends.”

  “What’d I tell you. There’s men who know how to be friends to a woman, and then there’s men who give other men a lazy reputation. The few of us who know what we’re about become legends.”

  She rolled over, laughing at him. “It’s been a while for you, too, huh?”

  “At least a year,” he replied, sheepish as he sat down. “But it wasn’t for lack of willing victims.”

  “What was it then?” She sat up against the pillows, pulled the sheet up over her breasts and stared at him.

  “I’m discriminating. Only the best.” He jerked the sheet to her waist with the hand that wasn’t holding Emmie’s bottle. “That’s what I like to see in the morning. Your navel,” he teased.

  She blushed as her nipples tightened from the brisk temperature in the room—and his very interested perusal. He was no more looking at her navel than she was looking at his, though it was attractive as a man’s navel went. Trying to ease the sheet back up when he wasn’t looking was futile—he held it in a knot.

  “Don’t deprive a man of one of the few joys in his life. Especially take pity on me because of my broken leg. I need a visual focus while I feed this child for you.”

  “It’s hard,” she protested.

  “It most definitely is.” He leered at her.

  “I’ve never been a man’s visual focus. I’ve never been this naked around a man.” He was practically eating her alive with his eyes. “I’ve got to take a shower.” She leapt out of bed before he could grab her ankle, though he tried. “Frisco, I couldn’t make love again even if I wanted to. Trust me.”

  To her surprise, not three minutes later, he joined her in the shower, with Emmie, cast wrapped.

  “I’m not going to make love to you in the shower—not today, anyway,” he teased. “But this is a moment I can’t pass up.” He held Emmie against his chest, and Annabelle against Emmie’s back and against his shoulder, and the three of them stood under the warm spray, enjoying the feel of each other. Not seductive. Just close.

  Necessary.

  It felt like a real family: a mother, a father, a baby. All happy. She loved it.

  She was falling in love with Frisco Joe Jefferson.

  In fact, she was long past falling.

  Chapter Sixteen

  An hour later, as Annabelle and Frisco sat in the kitchen eating breakfast, pounding on the downstairs door sent Annabelle jumping to her feet. “I’ll go see who it is.”

  “Tom, most likely.”

  “I don’t think so. He’d call at this point, since he knows you’re here.”

  “Or slither under the door. A snake could slither under the door, right?” He kissed Emmie’s forehead while the infant gazed up at him adoringly. “I shouldn’t talk badly about your father,” he told her. “I should teach you to love your mother and father. Your mother, that’s a piece of cake. Your father is a whole other matter in spiritual charity.”

  “Frisco,” Annabelle said on a laugh. “I’ll be right back.”

  Hurrying to the door, she pondered how much her life had changed—for the better. She was no longer sad; she no longer mourned her father. She would always miss him, of course, but now she felt as if she could move on and live a happy life. She and Emmie.

  It was all turning out so much better than she had ever dreamed—thanks to the man who’d taught her everything about herself
she’d needed to know.

  Jerry’s red nose and cheery blue eyes were peeking in the glass pane. She opened the door, motioning for him to come inside. “Hello!” Giving him a big hug, she said, “It’s a cold wind that blew you back here, Jerry. Can I get you some coffee?”

  “I’d accept that offer.”

  “Great. Frisco, Jerry’s here!”

  The two of them went into the kitchen, and Frisco stood to shake Jerry’s hand. “Got your haul taken care of?”

  “That I did,” Jerry said, seating himself. “Thought I’d stop here on my way and see if you wanted a ride back to Union Junction.”

  Her hand froze over the coffee pot. It made perfect sense that Frisco would return with Jerry. He couldn’t stay here forever.

  “Did I ever tell you that you look like Santa Claus?” Frisco asked.

  “Actually, yes, you did.” Jerry’s eyes twinkled at him. “It’s a compliment to me and my red Kenworth sleigh, hauling goodies. ’Course, last time you called me Santa, you’d just busted your leg and were jabbering like mad.”

  Frisco frowned. “I don’t remember.”

  Annabelle set coffee in front of the two men. “Here you go,” she said, taking Emmie from Frisco. “I’ll hold her so you can get your things.”

  “I didn’t say I was going, did I? Did I say I was leaving?”

  He looked at her, and Annabelle smiled. “It’s okay. I’ll be all right now, Frisco.”

  Hesitating, he looked at her and then the baby. And then her again. “Annabelle, I—”

  They were just friends. She didn’t want more from him than that because it wasn’t right to expect more. Though Tom had called her marriage-hungry and clingy, that had been him making himself feel better. She didn’t want Frisco to think he had to prop her up forever.

  And besides, what were they going to do? Stay here and make love until they got sick of each other? Follow him to Union Junction and be his housekeeper? That wasn’t the way she wanted Emmie raised. She owed it to her daughter to set a stable, loving example of motherhood. “It’s for the best,” Annabelle said.

  “I guess you’re right. I’ll get my things and join you in a moment, Jerry.”

  “Take your time. Lemme hold that little toot. You go say goodbye.”

  Handing the baby over, she went up the stairs with a heavy heart. It would be a difficult goodbye, but she was getting used to those. “Frisco,” she said, entering her room, “thank you for coming to see me. And Emmie.”

  He shook his head at her. “You sound like we’ll never see each other again. I kind of hear it in your voice. You know, Delilah says you don’t stick in one place for long.”

  “Well, I didn’t. But I’m going to now. I owe it to Emmie.”

  “Oh.” He smiled at her. “You’re a good mother, Annabelle.” And then he hugged her, and Annabelle hugged him back, with tears in her eyes she wouldn’t let him see. “Goodbye, Frisco.”

  “Bye.” He kissed her, a sweet goodbye kiss, not on the cheek like friends but on the lips like best friends and a bit more. “Miss me a little, okay?”

  “I will.”

  Nodding, he went down the stairs. She followed, taking Emmie from Jerry.

  “I’ll see you soon, no doubt,” Jerry said. “Now that I know where the salon is, I might as well get my hair trimmed here. On my way through.”

  “Me, too,” Frisco said.

  Annabelle nodded, not saying a word.

  “Bye, gal. You mind yourself,” Jerry said.

  Frisco kissed Emmie on the forehead. “And you mind yourself, sweetie. Mind your mother.”

  They walked out, waving in the cold winter air. Annabelle waved back, then closed the door and locked it.

  The salon seemed dark and silent without them. She’d never noticed the lack of light and laughter before.

  The sisterhood was the best part of the salon. She’d miss it, but she was strong enough now to leave the sisterhood and forge ahead. She had a responsibility to Emmie—and to herself. “Come on, sweetie,” she said. “Let’s go pack up. It’s time to go home.”

  FRISCO KNEW THE MINUTE he stepped out of the salon that he was making a mistake. The feeling followed him from Lonely Hearts Station halfway to Union Junction.

  What had that friends stuff been all about? Maybe he still had some screws knocked loose from when he broke his leg, because he sure didn’t feel “friendly” about Annabelle.

  It had seemed like the wise, self-preserving description of the relationship at the time. Mainly because he hadn’t wanted to rush her.

  But damn it, he felt like he’d just walked out on the best thing he’d ever had.

  Best friends, his foot. He sounded like he’d had his head slammed in a psych text book and forgot to have feelings of his own. He should have swept her off her feet. Maybe she wasn’t quite ready for a long-term relationship, but he had a big broom. He could sweep her so that she liked it.

  “Something on your mind, friend?” Jerry asked.

  “Not really. Yes, actually. I’m wishing I hadn’t left without saying something to Annabelle.”

  “I got a cell phone.”

  “Thanks, no, I’ve got one, too.” He scratched his head. “What I want to say can’t be said on a cell phone. I’d have to be holding her in my arms.”

  “Kenworth hanging a U-ee,” Jerry said. “It’s gonna be wide and short, so hang on.”

  “Wide and short?” Frisco asked with some alarm. “What are you doing?”

  Jerry pulled to the left side of the highway, where there was a spot to turn around. “We’re going back to Lonely Hearts Station.”

  “You don’t have to take me back.”

  “How else you going to get there with a busted spoke?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “And didn’t you say it had to be said in person?”

  He’d poked fun at Tom for not putting enough effort into what he was saying to Annabelle. “Yes, it does.”

  “Then back we go.”

  “Jerry, you are more than a friend to me.”

  “Nah, at this moment, I’m tacking on freight charges for you and your cast. I’m adding it to the month’s worth of fuel you promised to pay.” But he chuckled, and Frisco knew the big trucker had a soft spot for a good love story.

  “You’re great to help me out.”

  “I’m a trucker. I like the road, and it likes me. Sit back, close your eyes and compose your speech. I want it to be worth it when we get there.”

  Frisco grinned, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Finally, he’d found a woman he cared enough about to hang a U-ee for.

  THE LONELY HEARTS SALON was dark by the time Jerry pulled into a parking space on the town square. “Did she have a light on before?”

  Frisco frowned. “Seemed like she had some lights on.”

  With a bad feeling inside his suddenly racing heart, Frisco jumped down from truck. Going to the door, he pounded, all the while peering through the glass, trying to see inside.

  “I’ll try to raise her on the cell phone,” Jerry called from the truck cab.

  After five minutes, when Frisco knew she wasn’t in the bathroom, and she wasn’t busy with the baby, and she wasn’t going to open the door, a voice at his elbow made him nearly jump out of his boots.

  “She’s gone,” a petite redhead said.

  “Gone?”

  “Left town. Went back home.”

  “How do you know?”

  The redhead gave him a saucy once-over. Frisco realized she was wearing a Never Lonely glittered T-shirt. She batted long eyelashes at him coyly. If he hadn’t been in love—yes, damn it, in love—he might have been interested in the game she was offering. As it was, he just wanted her to spill info.

  “My name’s Valentine,” she said. “I work over there.”

  “I got that. Why would you know what Annabelle was doing?”

  “Because she came over and left a message for Tom with me. Tom used to see Dina, until she foun
d out he was trying to snake her with Annabelle.” Valentine’s tone was outraged. “The two-timing skunk.”

  “Ah, yeah.” Valentine had twisted logic, but her shirt was cut short enough to show her midriff, and even in winter, he had to think a woman like her could get cold enough to stop thinking straight. “So, can you share the message with me? That she left for Tom.”

  “I could, cowboy, if you were nice to me.”

  He gulped. “How nice do I have to be?”

  “Come into our salon,” she said, in the voice of the spider luring the fly. “We’ve been looking for customers all day.”

  On another day, such an offer might have been worthy. Today, he just wanted to track Annabelle. “Listen, I’m in a big hurry, so maybe…would you be interested in a crisp Ben Franklin?” He took out the money Annabelle would never take back from him and held it up.

  Valentine snatched it like it might blow away any second. “She went home to the family winery. With Emmie. She told Tom that she was having her lawyer send papers to arrange for sole custody, there was no money involved for him and if he messed with her, she’d make certain the bank foreclosed on that fancy car he recently bought.”

  “Well, I’m sure he talked a good game. Now, listen to me, Valentine, because this is important. Do you know where the family winery is located?”

  “No. I don’t drink wine,” she said with a sniff. “Only sexy drinks.”

  “Sexy drinks?”

  “You know. The kind you have to shake.” She leaned against his arm, bouncing a little for illumination.

  “Er, thank you for all your help. It’s been great talking to you,” he said, being nice as he backed away in case he ever needed to use her for an info source again. “Goodbye!” Jumping into Jerry’s truck, he slammed the door and locked it. “Gee whiz!”

  He could hear Jerry sniggering into his sleeve. “What are you laughing about?”

  “That little gal didn’t care about your broken leg. She was gonna crawl right up you and eat you alive.”

  “Yeah, well, she’ll have to go hungry a while longer. No wonder Delilah’s having trouble keeping clientele.”