Catching Her Cowboy Daddy

by Rayanna Jamison

  “Yes, Finley.”

  “I also have an assignment for you. I feel like what we have skirts the line on several different power exchange dynamics so I want you to research them, and tell me which you find the most appealing. We will discuss it the next time we are together, be it tonight or tomorrow. Do not come over until you have done the research. You don’t have to have made a clear decision, but you need to be informed.”

  Her eyes bugged out of her head, and the butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach over the last few days went crazy. “What...what do you want me to research, exactly?” she whispered.

  “Domestic discipline, D/s- dominant submissive, and age play or DD/lg.”

  “Do you have a preference?”

  “In general, no. I have an idea of which direction we seem to be heading, but no preference other than making sure you are comfortable and taken care of.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Now be a good girl, and let me go. It’s been nice being so close, but it will also be nice to not be quite as limited in our relationship,” he told her with a wink. “Call me after the appointment, and maybe I’ll get to see you tonight.”

  He picked up his duffel, and hobbled out of the room, leaving her staring after him. Maybe it would be good to have a little more space. It would certainly be nice to not be walking around in a constant state of arousal. She had never gone through this many panties in her life.

  Francesca sighed as her father’s truck pulled out of the drive, with Finley in it. She had no idea why his leaving was causing her this much distress, and it was unnerving to her. Wasn’t the whole point of this dynamic to make her less dependent on others and more self-reliant? Why did it seem like the opposite was happening?

  She wanted to be able to go straight to Finn’s after her father’s appointment, so she figured she had better get to work on his assignment so that he would let her. Opening her laptop, she searched “domestic discipline”. Thousands of search results came up within seconds. She decided to forgo the blog results, as they seemed like more personal accounts of spankings than anything else, and clicked on one that was titled “Managing Your Domestic Discipline Relationship” and began to read.

  The website she had stumbled upon was very inclusive, and after reading for an hour about rules, contracts, spanking positions and implements, her head was spinning but she forged on. There was a header at the top of the site that said “other PE dynamics”. She knew that PE meant power exchange, so she scrolled over it, and selected “D/s” in the drop down menu, noting there was also an age play option.

  The first post that popped up said “setting up your dungeon” and she quickly clicked out of it. Whatever went on in a dungeon, she wanted no part of it. “Okay, so D/s is out apparently,” she muttered, quickly moving to the age play section.

  The age play section was equal parts fascinating and horrifying, as she read about everything from “inner littles” to “drop seat jammies” and “baby weekends”. Her face was purple, but she read every word. There was a lot that turned her stomach, and a lot that she would never agree to, but the overall dynamic sounded kind of nice, and she liked calling Finn “Daddy” and being his “little girl.”

  Still, there were a lot of things in this dynamic that were hard limits for her, and as embarrassed as she was at the moment, she could not imagine having this conversation out loud with Finley, so she grabbed an old yellow legal pad from her desk, and began to write.

  *****

  Doctor Miller looked down his eyeglasses at the group of them and frowned. “I’d like to run a few tests, just for the sake of narrowing our options, and making sure we are on the right track. But, given the fact that Joe had a physical a few months ago, and going off everything you have told me today I’m going to venture an educated guess, and say that what we are looking at is probably the beginning stages of Alzheimer's. Given Joe’s age, it’s right on the line to be considered early onset or not, and at this point, it seems to be coming on slowly which is good. Right now, I just want to monitor it regularly. If any of you witnesses something, write it down, and bring it to the next appointment. Joe, if today’s tests come out the way I think they will, meaning that nothing else is going on here, then I would like to see you for a checkup in three months. Priscilla, if for any reason things start declining faster than I anticipate, call my office and make an appointment earlier, but I don’t foresee that being an issue.”

  “Yes, Doctor Miller, I understand.” To Francesca, it looked like her mother had more to say, but as expected, Joe cut in. Frankly, she was shocked he had lasted this long.

  “No offense, Doctor, but I think maybe you’re the one getting Alzheimer's. Maybe you should run some tests on yourself. I personally, am way too young for that to possibly be an option.”

  Francesca held in a snort and rolled her eyes. Her father was quickly nearing sixty, and Doc Miller, while no spring chicken himself, was at least a decade younger than Joe. Francesca was horrified at her father, but Doc Miller was used to Joe’s blustering insults, and remained unfazed.

  “By all means, Joe, I encourage you to get a second opinion, even a third one, if it would make you feel better. It’s your money to throw away.”

  “It’s not throwing it away. It’s getting a diagnosis from a real doctor, who does not practice medicine in the middle of nowhere, using a medical degree from the Bahamas.”

  Franny closed her eyes and took a deep breath, saying a prayer of thankfulness for Doc Miller, and his willingness to put up with her father all these years. Doc had actually grown up and gone to medical school in Hawaii. It was actually a high rated school, but Joe had been flicking him shit about it for as long as she could remember. The funny thing was, the new doc had actually gone to Columbia, but Joe wouldn’t go near him.

  The doc opened his mouth to reply, and her mother nudged her. “You can go ahead and go, sweetie. I know you’re anxious to check in on Finley.”

  “Are you sure? Father is being really mean.”

  Priscilla waved her hand in dismissal. “Don’t worry about Doc. He can handle himself. Besides, they do this same song and dance every time- it’s part of their routine.

  Frowning, Francesca stole a glance in their direction. Sure enough the two were going at it still, but both wore big smiles, and neither one looked seriously offended. She looked back at her mother. Priscilla on the other hand, looked a little pale.

  “You’re sure you’re okay? That was a big deal diagnosis. I don’t want to leave you with these yahoos if you need somebody to lean on for a few minutes.”

  Her mother put a hand on each side of Francesca’s face, and gave a sad smile. “Francesca, I’m fine, honestly. There is nothing you can do. I just need to come to terms with the fact that your dad is getting older, and so am I. This is just a part of that. Go have fun with Finn tonight, I’m sure I will need you more as time goes on, so I’m really glad you’re going to be sticking around now. It will be nice to have you home.”

  Home? Francesca stared as if someone had just punched her in the gut. Where had this idea come from? She had agreed to stay for a few weeks while they sorted things out with her father, and that was it. Now, everybody was just going to assume that she was going to stay around because of his diagnosis without even discussing it with her first?

  She opened her mouth to say as much, and stopped short when an image of Finley popped into her brain. Oh. That was the reason they assumed she was staying. It wasn’t that it hadn’t occurred to her, it was only that she hadn’t taken her staying as the foregone conclusion everybody else apparently had. That was just the way her brain worked. Go after what you want, and think through the implications later. She shrugged. It wasn’t as if she had a lot going for her in Oregon anyway.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The doctor’s appointment really hadn’t taken all that long, and since she wanted to give Finn a little more time to settle in, Francesca decided on a detour to the grocery store.
She wanted to get enough groceries to last him the weekend and save him from the hassle of hobbling around the grocery store, which she suspected would be a much bigger pain in the ass than he thought it would. She made short work of the trip, filling a cart with cereal, soup, bread, stuff for sandwiches and fresh fruits and veggies, adding in a frozen lasagna that was her personal favorite for the two of them to share.

  She kept her head down so as to avoid any real conversation with whomever she might run into. She didn’t care much for conversing with the locals to begin with, but with all the thoughts rattling around in her head, between the idea of moving back home, dealing with her father’s diagnosis, and the impending conversation her and Finn were about to have regarding their dynamic, if anyone asked her how she was, they were likely to be wiping up the verbal vomit for days afterward.

  For whatever reason, the market was actually pretty quiet for a Friday afternoon, and she managed not to run into anyone until she got up to the check stand. The line was horribly long, and of course, full of people she knew. She discreetly scanned the faces, and quickly turned her attention back to her cart. Everyone from Doc’s wife, to her third grade teacher, Mrs. Bennett and everyone in between.

  Knowing full well that she would have to buy it, and that Finn would make fun of her, she grabbed a tabloid off the rack, and buried her face in its pages. The words swam in front of her, and she couldn’t focus on the story about the woman who gave birth to a set of 100 pound triplets. She assumed that the 100 pounds was a cumulative total of their weights, and not their individual weights. Not that it was believable either way, but it was keeping her mind off her troubles, sort of.

  Somehow, she managed to make it through the line without having to attempt to converse with anyone, which was pretty much a miracle in Masonville. Maybe everyone wanted to avoid her as much as she wanted to avoid them, which suited her just fine.

  Her luck ran out when she got to the check stand, and came face to face with Georgia Landry. Georgia Landry had been her best friend all through junior high and high school. She was ashamed to admit it, but the two of them had ruled the school as the token mean girl rebels. She still talked to Georgia via email from time to time, but the last she had heard, Georgia had been living it up in New York enjoying city life while her husband was in law school. So, seeing her checking groceries at the Piggly Wiggly in Masonville, looking more than a little worse for the wear, was a huge shock.

  It must have been a shock for Georgia too, because she didn’t even touch Francesca’s groceries until they were about to slide right off the conveyor belt. Finally, Georgia recovered, plastering on the fakest smile Francesca had ever seen. “Oh, my lanta, Francesca Carolina Upton in the flesh? It can’t be! What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, you know, my yearly visit.” Francesca frowned as she studied her friend’s weary face, dry hair, and chipped nails. Something was seriously amiss. “I just ended up staying a bit longer this time, you know, a break from real life,” she fibbed.

  “I hear ya,” Georgia agreed, nodding wisely and nonchalantly as she bagged Francesca’s groceries. “Well, hey, if you’re around for a while still, maybe we can get together sometime, you know, catch up.”

  Franny nodded. There was apparently, a ton for them to catch up on, but neither one of them mentioned the many elephants in the room. “Yeah, maybe we can get a drink or something later this week. Just give me a ring out at the ranch, and we’ll set something up.”

  “Oh, no. No drinks for me,” Georgia smiled, stepping back from the counter and giving Francesca a view of her protruding belly. “These girls wouldn’t appreciate it.”

  “Oh, um, wow. Congratulations?” To Franny’s horror, it came out sounding like a question rather than a sincere wish, but she couldn’t have been more shocked if a UFO chose that exact moment to land right in the middle of the Piggly Wiggly. She began grabbing up her grocery bags and shoving them in the cart as fast as she could. The store had been a really bad idea. It was taking everything in her not to completely dump everything on Georgia, from her dad’s diagnosis to Finn spanking her, to her research this morning, and that was apparently not a burden her friend needed to bear right now. Like, at all.

  Georgia didn’t catch her shock or hesitation. “Thanks! I know it doesn’t look it, but I’m only six months along. The doctor wants me to stop working soon, but there is just no way I can afford that.”

  “Mmmhmm,” Franny murmured, the obvious questions running through her mind.

  “101.68”

  Franny ran her credit card, and tapped her foot impatiently. She needed to get out of here and fast. As soon as the machine beeped its approval, she threw the last bags in the cart, grabbed her receipt out of Georgia’s hand, and took off like a bat out of hell, leaving Georgia yelling behind her.

  “Have a great night hon! It was good to see you!” Franny was not sure she felt the same.

  *****

  Finn sat down on his couch, and frowned at his leg. Being alone in his house was not the peaceful time he had imagined it to be, especially being a gimp. He had already unpacked, heated a can of soup for lunch, caught up on his email correspondence, gone over his schedule for the next week, called his secretary, and drank two beers. He was bored. He missed Franny and her endless chatter, and her bratty wit.

  It was five o'clock, which meant two things. He needed to worry about dinner soon-another can of soup probably, and Joe’s appointment should have been over an hour ago at least. He had at least expected to hear from her after it was over, but maybe he hadn’t made that clear. Or maybe, she had gone home to do research. Still, it wouldn’t have killed her to check in.

  Frowning at both the fact that she hadn’t bothered, and the fact that it bothered him so, he shot off a quick text.

  “How was Joe’s appointment?”

  “About as good as we expected. :( Alzheimer’s.”

  “Shit. How’s he taking it?”

  “About as well as you’d expect.”

  “Going after Doc’s medical degree, huh?”

  “You know it.”

  “You okay?”

  “Not at the moment, but it’s not just that. I will be, though.”

  “I’m sorry, princess, anything I can do?”

  “Just be you.”

  “That sounds easy enough. You coming over later, or tomorrow?”

  “Be there soon.”

  Finn set his phone down on the table in front of him, and smiled. His mood had vastly improved with her last text. He thought he had been looking forward to some down time, but he had missed her quickly.

  The knock on the door startled him, and he groaned. He didn’t want to deal with well-wishers or people checking up on him today. And how did people even know he was home? It’s not like his truck was even in the drive-way.

  “Coming!” he shouted, grabbing his crutches.

  Swinging the door open, he was surprised to see three large paper grocery bags, held up by long legs in red cowboy boots. He would have recognized those legs anywhere. “Franny is that you?”

  “Yes, it’s me. Don’t try to grab the bags, just move out of the way, and point me towards the kitchen!”

  He grabbed one of the bags anyway and hopped to the dining table with it. “What’s all this?”

  “Just trying to make your life easier. I can’t imagine that grocery shopping on crutches will be all that pleasant.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate it. All I have around the house is canned soup, white rice and oatmeal. This looks much more appetizing,” he said, unpacking the bag onto the table. “But if you would have told me you were just outside, I would have come out to help you sooner.”

  Francesca frowned. “What are you talking about? I just got here.”

  Now it was his turn to frown. “You just got here? You weren’t sitting out front texting me?”

  “Why would I do that? That’s silly.”

  Finn closed his eyes, took a deep breath and counted to ten. “Fran
cesca, please tell me you did not send me all of those texts while the car was moving.”

  She let out a low whistle. “Okay, fine. I won’t tell you.”

  “Franny,” he growled. “Don’t mess with me little girl.”

  “What?” she asked, pseudo-innocently. “You said not to tell you.”

  “Put the groceries away please, and then join me in the living room.”

  He didn’t stick around to see how she answered, on the very good chance that whatever she said would have just gotten her in more trouble anyway. Instead, he sat down on the couch, and picked up his phone. One, two, three, four, five, six. Six texts she had sent while driving. As far as Finn was concerned, that was six texts too many. He had not planned on having to dish out a serious punishment tonight, but with Franny he had come to expect the unexpected. She kept him on his toes, and he loved it. Except this. He was not going to love this and neither was she.

  Thankfully, by the time she put the food away and joined him, she seemed to have calmed her attitude and realized that he was less than pleased. Looking timidly at him, she took a seat next to him.

  “I’m sorry, Finley. I know texting and driving is stupid, dangerous and illegal. I’ve just never had anybody care before. Am I going to be in trouble?” Her lower lip quivered, and he wondered how much of it was show, and how much was genuine remorse.

  “Does it fall under one of the four D categories we discussed?” he asked pointedly, letting her draw her own conclusions.

  “Yes, Sir, I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking so small and pathetic, Finn was grateful he didn’t have to try to punish her right then. He was sure he couldn’t have done it in that moment.

  “Well, little one, you’re certainly gonna be, I can guarantee you that, but we’re not going to talk about that just yet. Did you do the research I asked you to do?”

  Her blush was all the answer he needed. She turned red instantly from the top of her head down to her neck, and scuffed her boots across the carpet, sheepishly. “Yes, Finley, I did as you asked.”