A Cowboy's Fake Fiancée

by Savannah McCarthy

  Caroline seemed to take the bait. Heather could nearly hear her nodding on the other end of the line. “I see...” she said. “Are you still going to be with us at the restaurant?”

  “I’ll be here as long as they let me,” Heather chuckled, still trying to be as vague as possible. “I mean, if you’ll have me.”

  “Of course, dear.” Something began to beep in the background on Caroline’s end of the line. “Oh, I have to go. Have a good day today. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Will do, Caroline. Thanks for everything.”

  The line went dead and Heather was alone again.

  The weight of her big decision sunk back down onto her mind. She didn’t want to deal with it anymore; she was pretty sure she already had her answer. Her company laptop screen glowed uninvitingly on her desk. Heather knew she wouldn’t find any respite from her problems by looking at numbers all day, she had to get her hands dirty.

  A dusty apron hung by her office door. The bell at the front door chimed, and then, a few seconds later, it chimed again. Heather grabbed the old apron and tied it around her waist. She couldn’t be in this backroom alone anymore. It didn’t matter that there probably weren’t enough customers to warrant her extra help, she was going to go out on the floor and busy her body.

  Neither Stacey or Lola put up much of a fuss about having an extra hand. The two older waitresses, Melany and Ava, were only part time, and on their day off anyway. As expected, there weren’t many customers to be served, but Heather was glad to be working with two people she genuinely liked.

  Would she miss making friends at work if she didn’t have to work anymore? If she decided to pursue her dream career, would she have the time to hang out with people her own age? It was easier to push those thoughts to the back of her mind as she helped take orders, serve dishes and clean up. By closing time, she was a perfect level of exhausted—not enough to feel wasted, but just enough to feel useful.

  Still, as Stacey and Lola left the restaurant for the day, and Heather closed up and headed to her car, the weight of her decision appeared again. It wasn’t as bad as before, though. Heather had her answer, she just needed to deliver it.

  She decided to forgo a phone call and instead drove over to the glimmering office building. She parked outside and stopped at the front door to appreciate the lowering sun. It was hot out, but a cool breeze lifted the soft brown ringlets of her hair. The sun shimmered like it was underwater and the sky was turning all shades of red, blue and orange.

  Heather appreciated it all for just one more long moment before turning to open the door. To her surprise, it was locked. She gazed through the glass and saw emptiness inside. The ridiculous thought that she had waited too long to respond to Nash’s offer, and that the ranch had already closed down, crossed her tired mind, before she spotted the same secretary who had greeted her yesterday walking towards the door.

  “Sorry, Ms. Hoover. We’re closed,” said the young, smartly-dressed woman. “I’m just heading home for the day. Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “I was looking for Nash... uh, Mr. Winthrow.”

  “Last I heard, he was heading over to the stables. Do you know where those are?”

  Heather did. She had been to the ranch enough when she was younger to remember watching the big, heroic cowboys doing their tricks in the fields for her. It had always been a staple of her visits. A crowd would gather just before sunset to watch the ranch’s cowboys send them all off. Heather still dreamed of the mesmerizing sight sometimes—the long stretch of golden prairie behind them, the orange curtain being pulled back over the distant foothills in the west. She didn’t need any convincing to go seek out Mr. Winthrow there.

  As she thanked the secretary and turned from the building, Heather wondered why it had felt more comfortable to call the stranger by his first name when she’d asked after him. She’d never met Nash before, yet there was something in him that felt familiar, a warmth that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  Heather left her car parked outside the office building and made the short walk to the stables. The streets were empty, though the sound of ranch employees filling up the entertainment strip rumbled like distant thunder just a little ways off.

  It didn’t take long to arrive at the stables, and though she hadn’t expected anything more, it was still sad to see it so devoid of people. Her memories of this place were so filled with kids and families watching on in awe that it hurt her heart to see what a ghost town it had become.

  Still, a not so distant neigh brought her attention away from the fence posts where people had once gathered and towards the open field beyond. There, she saw a single cowboy, riding his steed, silhouetted by the setting sun. He looked just as majestic as anything she’d ever dreamed of. It was enough to send chills down Heather’s neck.

  She watched the cowboy and sighed. Her problems faded down into the wild grass and her big decision didn’t feel so big anymore. She wanted to save this place, and if she could help it in any way, then that’s what she’d do.

  After a few minutes of bliss, the cowboy in the field started to ride closer. It wasn’t until he lifted his beige Stetson up that Heather realized it was Nash. Part of her had guessed it had been him all along, but her mind had been too at ease to do anything more than just sit back and admire.

  The burly cowboy galloped close and tipped his hat in greeting. Heather gave him a small, dutiful smile in return.

  “What’s the news, little lady?” he asked, in that deep voice of his.

  Heather stood up straight.

  “I’m in.

  Chapter 11

  Nash

  Nash had wanted to walk her home, but Heather had hurried off just as quickly as she had appeared.

  She’d left the contract though, signed and dotted.

  Nash had immediately called up Frenchie and the two had met at the office. As sweet as Heather’s gesture had been, of opting to deliver the news in person instead of over the phone, it was still a business deal. He had to treat it as such, or risk having it all fall apart.

  It was later the next day now, and Nash was wasting no time in getting the whole process started.

  Pick you up at 7? he’d texted her.

  How about I meet you at the ranch? she’d replied.

  Nash didn’t want to make Heather come all the way out to him for their first ‘date’. As rough and tumble as his public image was, he always tried to be a gentleman when he was courting someone, whether that was in love or in business.

  He felt a cold sweat form on his forehead when he noticed himself struggling to make the distinction with Heather. It’s just business, he told himself, over and over again, as he got ready for their first meeting.

  It was Sunday, so all of the ranch’s restaurants were closed, meaning Heather was at home. Nash had wanted to pick her up in a limo or something fancy, just to give her a taste of what she was getting herself into, but Heather seemed resistant to that idea.

  Nash tried his best to understand. He was still a villain after all. What sweet country girl would want to be seen with him right now?

  I can send a car and meet you at the restaurant, he texted her, trying his best to accommodate.

  He fixed his bolo tie in the mirror, then ran his fingers through his clean hair. He stared at his reflection and realized that he was nervous. This whole idea was taking its toll on his nerves. Who would have thought that retiring from one of the most violent sports in the world would have been when all his stress started? It almost compared to how uncomfortable he had been when he first realised that he was becoming a sports villain—he’d only been able to alleviate that stress by eventually welcoming the role, and even playing into the part; Nash hoped he could be even half as successful in this new venture.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket.

  Okay, Heather responded.

  Nash texted his driver with info on where to pick up and drop off his ‘date’.

  “R
eady?” Frenchie asked, as Nash made his way through his luxurious Winthrow Ranch cabin, towards the front door. The agent had come over to go over the whole plan again before it officially started. He’d been finalizing the paperwork while Nash got ready.

  “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Nash smiled, unconsciously fixing his bolo tie again.

  “How are you going to get down there?” Frenchie asked.

  “I’ll drive. It seems like Heather would rather meet me at the restaurant than have me pick her up,” Nash shrugged. “Guess nothing’s improved yet. Still the bad guy.”

  Frenchie chuckled. “If only this all could work so quickly. Good luck tonight, buddy. I know you’ll kill it.”

  Nash nodded and opened up the front door. “See you on the other side.”

  It was late afternoon, and cooler out than it had been in weeks. Nash walked through his driveway, ignoring the fancy sports cars and sleek rides. He knew full well what he wanted to drive.

  His dusty ranch truck wasn’t exactly cheap, but the wear and tear it had accumulated over the years gave it a certain charm that Nash just couldn’t pass up. He almost never drove it outside the ranch, choosing instead a convertible or some other equally ostentatious option, but it was about time he showed the world his true colors, and his true colors were faded from hard work and ranch duties.

  It was a fairly long drive to the restaurant. Nash had decided to take Heather to the Golden Sun, a high-end Asian-fusion restaurant in the nearby town of Fort Lupton.

  He could have stayed in Eden Prairie, but the town was small enough that there were no guarantees that word wouldn’t get out about their meeting.

  This was only supposed to be an entry date. Nash wanted to get to know Heather well enough to make this a relatively painless process. The Golden Sun was one of Nash’s staples; they were well-versed in dealing with high-profile clientele. A private backroom booth always waited for him, as did a secret backway entrance. He trusted them to be discreet, and, for now, discreet was what he needed.

  He checked his phone at a red light and saw that Heather had been picked up. His heart started to beat a little faster. This was all real. It seemed so crazy.

  The light went green and he sped forward.

  By the time he pulled into the private underground parking lot of the Golden Sun, he was calm and collected. Just business, he had repeated in his mind’s eye like a mantra for the whole drive there.

  “Welcome, Mr. Winthrow,” greeted the head of parking lot security. “Right this way, sir.

  “Please, call me Nash.”

  He was led into the sleek black elevator and whisked upstairs to his top floor booth. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Heather wasn’t at the table yet. A gentleman was always early—it would have been a bad start to this whole thing if he’d gotten there after her.

  He sat down and checked himself in the mirror that hung on the far side of the room. He was wearing an understated black poplin shirt, rolled up around the cuffs, and dark blue jeans. He’d left the cowboy hat at home, because he didn’t expect to go out in public at any point during the date. Their boardroom would be the varnished table and silk cushions of the fancy booth that overlooked Fort Lupton’s civil war-era town hall.

  It didn’t take long for the elevator doors to ding open again. Heather walked out, looking like a vision.

  Nash took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. She was gorgeous; all made up, but still with a down-to-earth charm that he was having a hard time resisting. Her hair was down and light brown ringlets flowed up against her bare shoulders. She wore a dark green front-buttoned summer dress that complimented her figure in the most casual manner. She looked effortlessly gorgeous.

  Just business...

  “Heather,” he nodded, reaching out for a greeting. Her hands were soft but her handshake was strong. The touch of her skin sent ripples up his arm. He bit his tongue, trying to fight away his attraction to her. “Please,” he continued, gesturing for her to sit.

  “Very fancy,” Heather said, with a hint of judgement in her voice. “I’ve never even heard of this place.”

  Nash sat down at his end of the table. “Have you ever been to Fort Lipton before?”

  “Of course, just maybe never this part of town.”

  “Well, get used to it. All the best restaurants are here; I try to have as many meetings on this strip as possible.”

  Heather leaned back in her silk cushions and squinted her eyes at Nash. “Would you call this a meeting?”

  “Absolutely,” Nash didn’t hesitate. “We’re partners now. Business partners. We can tell the public these things were doing are dates, but we’ll both know what the truth is.”

  Heather looked out of the window by their table. “Beautiful view.”

  Nash didn’t take his eyes off of her, “I agree.”

  Just business...

  A waitress came and took their drink orders. Nash was surprised when Heather got an Old Fashioned. “You like whiskey?” he asked, after the waitress had left.

  Heather shrugged, unenthusiastically. “It was the only thing I recognized on the drink list.”

  Nash chuckled. “Would you have rather gone some place less, um, upscale?” he asked.

  Heather sighed. “No, this is fine. Just a little out of my comfort zone, which I guess is appropriate since this whole ‘thing’ is out of my comfort zone.”

  “How do I make you more comfortable?” Nash asked, genuinely.

  “I don’t think there’s anything you can do,” Heather responded, fidgeting with her cutlery. “This whole thing isn’t normal. You’re not normal. We should just give up on trying to make this seem normal right now, save ourselves the headache.”

  Nash took a deep breath. “What are you going to do with the money?” he asked, bluntly.

  Heather eyed him suspiciously. “That’s none of your business.”

  Nash nodded. “True. Do you have any ideas though? You don’t have to go into specifics.”

  Heather hesitated. “Yeah. I have a few ideas,” she finally said. “First pay of all of our debt, then maybe go back to school...”

  Nash raised his eyebrow. “Back to school, huh? Where’d you first go to school?”

  “The University of Nebraska”

  “Wow, Out of state, impressive.”

  “Expensive,” Heather clarified. “Way too expensive.”

  “Would you take it back if you could? Those years in school?” Wyatt asked, leaning in closer.

  Heather sighed and looked him in the eyes for the first time since they sat down. “I don’t know,” she said, a small smile forming on her lips. “Depends on how this all goes.”

  Nash smiled back. “Well, it’s a good thing we met each other when we did. A decade ago, and we would have been sworn rivals. I went to Texas. I grew up watching the Longhorns and the Cornhuskers battle it out every year. It’s a shame you guys ever left the Big 12.”

  Heather rolled her eyes. “I know where you went to school, Nash. Everyone in Colorado does. It’s part of why they hate you.”

  Nash felt a stab to his heat. He’d almost forgotten that Heather hated him too.

  Suddenly, the waitress reappeared by their table side. “Here are your drinks, Mr. Winthrow; Ms...?”

  “Heather,” Heather interrupted. “My name is Heather.”

  “Please, call me Nash,” Nash added.

  The waitress smiled and put down their drinks. It hit Nash that Heather had called him ‘Nash’, even without him insisting on it. Was that a good sign or a bad sign? He couldn’t tell yet.

  Nash helped Heather order her dinner, as she was having a hard time distinguishing what anything was. It made him laugh to hear her trying to pronounce the mixed French-Asian dishes. Her innocence was adorable and her fire was unmistakable.

  “What were you laughing at?” she demanded, half-serious, half-playful, after the waitress had taken their menus.

  “Ever been to an Asian-Fusion place be
fore?” Nash asked.

  “Do I look like I have?” Heather spat back, full of sass.

  Nash took the opportunity to study her face. Her cute button nose was scrunched ever so softly, her thick lips were glistening with subtle amounts of gloss, her big cheeks were glowing under the dim lighting of their private booth.

  “You look like you could belong anywhere you wanted to belong,” Nash finally said.

  Those big cheeks on Heather turned a subtle shade of pink at his response. “Yeah, well, then maybe I’ll go traveling once you’ve paid up.”

  Nash smiled. Heather was clearly trying her best not to smile.

  “What did you study at Nebraska?” he asked.

  “Biology,” Heather responded with a twinkle in her eye.

  Nash was taken aback. “Wow, really? You must be pretty smart then, huh?”

  Heather looked around at the lavish dining room, then back at Nash. “If I was actually smart, I probably wouldn’t have to be here right now.”

  Nash pursed his lips and tried to fight off the sinking feeling in his gut. “Out of state tuition’s a real killer, huh?”

  “How would you know, Mr. Full-Ride-Scholarship?” Heather teased.

  “That wasn’t because I was smart,” Nash pointed out. “It was because I could hit good.”

  Heather blew air out of her nose. “I think most people in this country would say you hit bad.”

  “Well, in any case, it got me to Texas and now I’ve ended up here too.”

  “Looks like we both should have stayed in Colorado for university,” Heather said, with a small smile.

  Nash nodded his head in agreement, but the truth was, he was glad he went to Texas, if only because it meant he was here right now.

  The more he talked to Heather, the less he could concentrate on the whole business side of their arrangement.

  This isn’t just business...