Catching Her Cowboy Daddy

by Rayanna Jamison

  Grow the fuck up, Franny. She mentally scolded herself. They’re just a bunch of bored old ladies. How bad could it be?

  As soon as she finished her inner lecture, she looked up and saw Mrs. Katherine Tate heading straight towards her. Katherine Tate was the worst of the worst. If she could survive a run in with her, she could survive anything.

  “Francesca, darling,” Mrs. Tate cooed. “It’s so nice to see you and Georgia together again!”

  “Yes ma’am,” Francesca agreed, standing to greet the vile woman. “I’m very glad my stay got extended and that I am able to be here today.”

  “Your stay got extended? What do you mean? You’re not here for good? I spoke to your mother just yesterday, and I was under the impression that things hadn’t worked out for you over in Oregon, and that you had to move home. And, aren’t you sleeping with the mayor? I would have not figured Mayor Tucker for a man who engaged in short term flings, especially not while he held a city office. Maybe he really hasn’t changed all that much after all. Do people ever really change that much anyway? After all, you haven’t.”

  “No ma’am, I guess I haven’t, and neither have you,” Francesca responded as sweetly as she could through gritted teeth, before Katherine Tate swept away, leaving Hurricane Franny in her wake.

  Hurricane Franny was a term she had neither heard nor used in years, but it was the only fitting description for the way she felt at that moment. She was trembling with rage, and red all over. She was sure that her face would fit the age old adage “if looks could kill” because that was exactly what she wanted to do in the moment.

  “Whoa!” Georgia exclaimed, waddling up beside her. “Who set off Hurricane Franny? Oh, never mind, I’m sure I can guess. Katherine Tate, right? I saw you talking to her a few minutes ago.”

  Franny ignored her, staring bullets at Katherine’s retreating back.

  “Listen, Francesca, she’s just a miserable old woman who gets her jollies off by putting other people down. She’s always been that way, and you know it, so you shouldn’t let her get to you.”

  Her breathing started to even out. There was truth in Georgia’s words, even though there hadn’t been in Katherine’s. It was just so unfair for her to have a reputation for sleeping with the mayor when they hadn’t even gotten that far yet! And for Katherine to imply that they would be better off without Finley as the mayor was just evil, and complete bullshit, too, she fumed. Finley was a great mayor- and it was about time they got rid of the good ole boy’s mentality around here. Now, all they needed was a new sheriff.

  The reminder of Finley, and her last encounter with Sheriff Daniels was enough to stabilize the hurricane that was brewing. If she threw a hissy fit in public, or found a way to somehow exact revenge on Katherine, Finley would exact revenge on her behind, in a big way, and she didn’t want that.

  Georgia was peering at her strangely, probably watching as her inner struggle played out across her face. Francesca knew she had a tendency to be over-expressive. Keeping her thoughts centered on Finn as her daddy was enough to still her breathing and bring her rage down to a simmer.

  As if somehow sensing that it was now safe, Georgia leaned in close. “Ignore Mrs. Tate, and all the other self-important busybodies. They’re not worth it. Besides,” she added impishly, “I want you here, and today is about me.”

  “Yes, it is. You’re right. Let’s go remind everybody how fabulous we are on the way to the punchbowl,” Francesca said with an evil grin.

  *****

  It felt so good to be behind the wheel again, Finley thought as he cruised off the lot, leaving his secretary Deborah and her family-style sedan in the dust. Deborah had driven him to the car dealership, and he was now the proud owner of a brand new truck. Finley had never before bought a brand new vehicle of any kind and he felt like celebrating.

  Normally, that would mean a good steak, and a good beer, but this time he had other things in mind. He had no meetings today, and Franny was supposed to be busy all day. It seemed like a good day to shop for his little girl. He had intended to do some online shopping, but some things were just easier to pick out in person, like wooden hairbrushes and engagement rings.

  With a satisfied smile, He pulled over to the side of the road, and turned the truck towards the city. He was going shopping.

  The weekend was only four days away, and Finley planned to make it one they would always remember.

  *****

  “Late night tonight. Had a busy day. Got my cast off, bought a truck, went to the city for supplies. See you tomorrow?”

  That was the text that greeted her when she finally left the baby shower, and got out to her truck, which admittedly, after the Katherine Tate debacle had not been that bad at all. Nobody else had been rude, most people had seemed genuinely happy to see her, and best of all, Georgia had had a fantastic day being totally spoiled and loved by the people of Masonville. That made Francesca think that maybe they weren’t all as awful as she remembered.

  She was kind of bummed about not getting to see Finley tonight, as she had been staying there nearly every night since they had defined their relationship, but not seeing him meant less opportunities to get in trouble, and her ass could use the break.

  “Okay- drive safe,” she texted back quickly. “See you tomorrow.”

  Then she climbed in, tossed her phone in the center console, and looked around for her purse. It wasn’t in the vehicle.

  “Fuck,” she groaned, jumping back down and heading towards the community center, going through the back door to the kitchen this time as it was closest to the bathroom, where she was pretty sure her purse was. The auxiliary ladies were still doing clean up, and a few of them waved to her as she walked through.

  Entering the bathroom, her nostrils were assaulted with the combination of fresh cigarette smoke, and expensive perfume. It wasn’t empty. Spying her purse on the far end of the counter she went to it, and quickly rummaged through, doing a quick check that the important stuff was accounted for.

  “I heard her husband died with a hooker in the car with him. Can you imagine? No wonder she ran home with her tail between her legs, that kind of scandal would have followed those babies for the rest of their lives.”

  The voice coming out of the first stall was unmistakable, and set Franny’s teeth on edge. She was gearing up to make her presence known when a second, younger, higher voice spoke up from the second stall.

  “I know! What a joke, right? And what about Francesca? Can you believe they both ended up running back home at the same time? Those two always were glued at the hip, doing everything together- even failing at life, apparently. God, what is Mayor Tucker thinking, gallivanting around with the likes of her? He’ll never get re-elected. He’ll probably be shamed out of office. So disgusting.”

  The first voice belonged, of course, to Katherine Tate. The second to her daughter, Aubrey. Like mother, like daughter.

  If there hadn’t been so much truth in what they were saying, maybe she would have stood up to them, and put them in their place, and treated them like the nosy, self-important, judgmental busy-bodies they were. Instead, she barely made it back to her truck before the tears began to fall.

  Once there, she locked the doors, revved the engine, and let the tears fall all the way back to the ranch, berating herself the whole drive home. If anybody happened to pass her, it would have provided just more gossip for the mill, as she was yelling and screaming and crying like a crazy woman the whole way.

  “God, Francesca, what in the hell were you thinking? Sure, you’re an Upton and he’s a Tucker, so what? He grew up and made something of his life, and got elected mayor for God’s sake while you gallivant around like a nomad, drifting from house to house and job to job as often as people change hairstyles. And it’s not even enough that you made a mess of your own life, now you’re doing your very best to wreck his, too! Ugh!” She shrieked, when she almost missed her turn, giving the steering wheel a hard yank, before continuing her self
-deprecating rant.

  “And what the hell is this thing you have going on with Finley anyway? No matter what he says about it, calling your boyfriend Daddy, and letting him spank you and send you to the corner, cannot be fucking normal. It’s just another way for you to not take responsibility for your own life Franny, and it is crazy as hell. How can it possibly help you be a better person? Who even thinks like that? Oh no,” she mimicked, “I better not text and drive, but not because I’m a grown ass woman who should well enough know that it’s dangerous and illegal and stupid, no, not because of that, but because if I do, Daddy might spank me!”

  She was completely falling apart, and the more she ranted, the more she found to rant about. “Worse even, than the fact that you let him spank you, is the fact that you actually like it,” she yelled, now completely disgusted with herself. “You don’t just like it, you really fucking like it. He spanks your ass, and you want to jump his bones, and you can’t even keep the same pair of panties on for a full day because you’re so fucking turned on by it all the time. You are one fucked up little girl, Francesca Upton. You need help.”

  Finally bringing the truck to a stop outside the ranch, and losing steam in her rant, she laid her head on the steering wheel and cried.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Finley looked up from his seat at the head of the table in the conference room on Tuesday afternoon and frowned. He had no idea what had just been said, or if they were waiting for him to respond or not. Shooting Deborah, a frantic look that was both pleading and apologetic, he waited for her to jump to his rescue.

  “What, I think the mayor was trying to say, Mr. Barnes, is that this is a rather complicated issue with a lot of good points being made on either side, and there is just no feasible way to come to a comprehensively informed decision on the matter in just one afternoon. So I move that we table this discussion for now, and we all go home and think of ways to address the concerns that have been brought to our cumulative attentions, and reconvene next week.”

  “I second the notion,” Finley stated, although to be truthful, he had no idea what the matter was that he was supposed to be thinking over. Deborah would fill him in later.

  The motions carried, and to Finn’s relief, the meeting came to a close, business men and women filing out one by one, until only he and Deborah were left in the room.

  Deborah gave him a stern look, and raised her eyebrows expectantly. “What happened to you?”

  “Sorry, Deborah, I’m just feeling a bit distracted this week. Thanks for saving my ass. What are we supposed to discuss when we reconvene next week?”

  “The allocation of funds from the winter fair. Seriously, are you sure you didn’t hurt your head in the accident, because you have been not quite all there for a while now.”

  “I’m sorry.” Finley was sincere. He had been a bit distracted lately, and especially today. Come Monday, he hoped, he and Franny would be engaged, and Deborah would understand the source of his distraction had been the ring burning a hole in his pocket. He cleared his throat, and attempted to sound like the matter was of utmost importance to him. “What’s the issue with the funds? They always go to the schools. That’s literally why we have the fair.”

  “Some of the townspeople, parents and business owners alike, feel that the money would be better spent in fixing some of the roads that the buses travel over. It seems like there have been quite a lot of kids getting to school late repeatedly this year because the buses are having to take detours.”

  “I see. I assume there are minutes?”

  “Yes, of course. Really Mayor, what kind of show do you think we’re running here?” She asked impishly, flouncing out of the room with a wink.

  Finally, he was alone. Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he checked for messages and frowned when there were none. He had texted Franny several times today, and had yet to receive a single answer. It had now been almost twenty-four hours since he had heard from her. It did not a happy Daddy make.

  He began to type

  Franny, I get worried when you don’t respond to my messages, especially since I have asked you several questions and not received a single response. If I have not heard from you within the hour, there will be consequences- Love Daddy.

  He hit send and slid his phone back into his pocket. He had a full docket of meetings and events today, or he would be tempted to drive out to the ranch and check on her, but he suspected that last message would do the trick. And if it didn’t- well, then he would have fun tonight. Her, not so much.

  *****

  When the plane landed, and unloaded into the terminal, Franny made a beeline for the first coffee kiosk she saw. She had not slept more than an hour or two last night, between the tossing and turning and crying, and had only managed to catch a short nap on the plane for the same reasons. She just wanted to go home, crash on her couch in a nest of blankets and a week's supply of ice cream and marathon binge on reality TV, so she could pretend her own life wasn’t a raging train wreck.

  Her phone was heavy in her pocket, and she dreaded turning it on. She had left in the middle of the night, not bothering to leave her parents a note, so that they would assume that she was with Finley, and not call him when they discovered her missing. She couldn’t take the chance that Finley would intercept her before she got on the plane and break her resolve with sweet talk and threats. She was doing this for him, and it was killing her inside.

  Coffee now in hand, she made her way through the airport and to baggage claim, looking like, she was sure, a member of the walking dead. Stepping outside, she stood in the rain, and hailed a cab, not even bothering to stay under the protective awning. She didn’t care if she was wet, she couldn’t feel anything.

  In the cab she finally turned on her phone, wincing when she saw that she had five messages from Finn. She didn’t bother reading them, because it didn’t matter. He was better off without her, and he would come to realize that soon enough.

  *****

  Finley’s phone was silent all day, and by the time his last meeting ended at half past five, he was chomping at the bit to get out to the ranch, and give his little girl a stern dressing down, followed by a long hard bare bottom hand spanking.

  “Daddies do not like games, sweetheart,” he muttered under his breath. “That’s a lesson you will have to learn.” The sooner the better, as far as he was concerned. He had been on edge all day, waiting to hear from her, and with each passing hour, he had felt his blood pressure rising, until it was actually causing him pain. It was nothing compared to the pain she would be feeling.

  He made it to the ranch in record time, and had barely stopped the truck, before he was boots on the ground, all but running towards the house. Joe’s ranch truck, the one Francesca had been using, was nowhere to be seen.

  Yolanda answered the door, as she usually did, and Finn didn’t even bother with the usual niceties, striding right past her, and taking the steps two at a time, until he reached Franny’s old room.

  He stepped in and gave it careful inspection. Franny’s usual mess, with clothes strewn over every available surface, and dresser tops overflowing with make-up and toiletries, had been replaced with a neat as a pin appearance that was worthy of a magazine layout, but that, in and of itself proved nothing. Yolanda could have been cleaning. Wrenching open the closet doors, he frowned. There were plenty of clothes in the closet, but they were all dresses. Again, it was suspicious that her jeans and the clothes she actually wore were missing, but it proved nothing.

  “Finley? Is everything okay?” Priscilla stood in the doorway, watching him with concern.

  “Where’s Franny?”

  “She’s not with you? That’s funny. She’s been gone since we woke up this morning.” Shit-that was nearly twelve hours- that was a long time for nobody to have seen her. Finley’s stomach sank like a rock in the ocean.

  “But, she was here last night?” he asked, mentally kicking himself for not checking in with her once he finally mad
e it home last night.

  “Oh, yes, she came in around seven, said she had already eaten, and went straight up to bed.”

  “But the truck was still out front when you went to bed? What time was that?”

  Priscilla was starting to look worried now, too. “We went to bed around ten last night, why?”

  Shit balls. That meant it had been nearly 24 hours since anyone had seen or heard from her. “Have Joe call and check her credit cards for charges. And Priscilla, please don’t worry I’m going to find her.” And when I do, he added to himself, there will be hell to pay.

  *****

  The doorbell rang in the distance, but Franny was too weak to find her way out of the blanket cocoon and make her way to the door. Every bone in her body ached, and she was so cold. She wanted to get up. Check the door, get some hot tea, and take a warm shower, but the thought of moving at all was exhausting. The cold had hit her hard, coming on full force only a few short hours after she walked in the front door to her apartment. The only good news about this was that she was able to sleep, and not think about Finley, or her parents, or all the things she had left behind.

  “Franny, open up! I know you’re in there!”

  Opening one eye, she glared in the direction of the front door. It sounded like Finley. Great, she was hearing things. She groaned, threw a pillow over her head to block out the imaginary sounds and rolled over on the couch, putting her back to the door. She just wanted to sleep.

  The knob turned, and the door crashed open. Her hero came rushing towards her, his face a mask of worry, as he knelt by the couch, and shook her lightly. “Franny! Franny, what is going on? Why did you leave? Why didn’t you answer my messages?”