Okay, she hadn’t laughed in his face or thrown him out on his hind end. That was encouraging.
“I’d need a job, yes. That’s a fact. And a place for my mares and their foals. I was thinking a portion of each of my paychecks could go toward buying a small share of Farrington Farms. I also have some cash I can put down, as well. I realize none of this will happen overnight. You have a fine place worth a lot of money.”
“The property itself would have to remain mine and separate from the partnership. Anything happens to me, it goes to my daughter.”
“Naturally.”
She named an amount. “That’s what my accountant tells me the actual racing operation is worth, including my horses.”
Spence whistled. It was a hefty sum.
“We can take the horses out of the deal,” she suggested.
“I have no problem with that.”
Annily scrutinized Spence for so long, he started sweating around the collar. Finally, she broke the silence. “Would you consider giving me half ownership of whichever foal I choose?”
“Yes.”
“And half ownership of any foal that comes from breeding your mares to my stud?”
Again, Spence agreed. “Absolutely.”
“I have a trainer already.”
“It’s not my intention to take his job.”
Her loud, sharp cackle dissolved into a cough. “Like hell it isn’t.”
“Not right away,” Spence amended.
“You can start out as assistant trainer and barn manager. From there, we’ll see how it goes.”
“I accept.”
“Good. I’ll contact my attorney on Monday.” They shook hands, after which Annily motioned for him to accompany her to the golf cart. “You planning on commuting every day from Mustang Valley?”
“If I have to. I’d rather find something closer and with enough room I can bring my girls for the weekend.”
“I may have a solution.”
“What’s that?”
“You just be patient.”
She drove them to the main house, then around the back along a side road paved with cobblestones. Spence’s confusion cleared when an adobe casita came into view.
“This is a guesthouse for my kids and grandkids when they visit. Which, now that my daughter’s moved to Florida, won’t be all that often.” She twisted in her seat to face him. “I reckon it’d make a nice place for you and your girls. Temporarily, anyway. Until you find more permanent digs. I’ll include the rent as part of your salary.”
Spence didn’t consider himself an emotional man, but in that moment, he felt his throat close.
“I can’t thank you enough, Annily.”
“All I ask is that you don’t disappoint me.”
He started to say, “I won’t,” then stopped himself. He’d made that same promise to Frankie, and yet somehow he’d let her down more than he’d dreamed possible.
“I’ll do my best,” he finally said.
Chapter Fourteen
Frankie hastily turned as Spence entered the kitchen. Schooling her features into a congenial mask, she willed her breathing to slow to a rate resembling normal.
When the doorbell first rang, the girls had raced each other, dead set on being the one to let him in. Frankie had ignored the arguing, letting Paige and Sienna settle this one between themselves. She wasn’t up to it, mentally or physically—and certainly not emotionally.
In the last two weeks since her and Spence’s breakup, falling out, parting of the ways, conscious uncoupling—whatever they’d once had and didn’t have now—Frankie had been miserable.
Really! It wasn’t as if she loved him. Not like before. Then, she’d—
Oh, forget it.
“Hi.” He grinned. “How’s it going?”
“Fine.” She leaned a hip on the counter.
“What’s new?”
“Not much.”
She’d be surprised if anything new had happened in the hour since they’d last spoken on the phone, finalizing the details of the twins’ first overnight stay with him. Or since yesterday, when she’d driven out to Farrington Farms to see the casita prior to giving her consent for the overnight.
In addition to talking once or twice daily, in person or on the phone, Spence had been picking up the girls from preschool twice each week and taking them to dinner. This week, his parents and his brother’s family drove up from Marana to join them. Paige and Sienna hadn’t stopped talking about their younger cousins and the kid-friendly restaurant they’d eaten at, with games and rides.
Always, Frankie and Spence’s conversations were about the girls or something related to them. Nothing personal. Certainly nothing intimate or remotely hinting at intimate. Not a single, solitary comment had been made about the night they’d spent together.
“Are you packed yet?” Spence asked.
“Almost,” Paige reported.
“Do you have your sleeping bags?”
“We slept in them last night.” Sienna glanced worriedly at Frankie. “Mommy said it was okay.”
“On top of their beds.” Frankie lifted one shoulder. “You don’t mind?”
“’Course not.”
Spence had taken the girls to a discount store in Scottsdale and purchased child sleeping bags. The idea was Frankie’s. His casita at Farrington Farms had only one bedroom, but a Murphy bed pulled down from the living room wall, perfect for two little girls. Sleeping bags would be far more convenient than blankets and sheets, and a lot more fun.
“All right. Let’s finish packing.” Frankie started to accompany the twins.
“No, Mommy,” Paige insisted. “We can do it ourselves.”
Frankie met Spence’s mostly unreadable gaze. He was really good at keeping his feelings to himself. “Who knows what they’ll have in their backpacks when they get there.”
“It’s one night. We’ll survive.”
He was right.
“Can I get you a cold drink while you wait?”
“I’m fine, thanks.” He pulled out a chair from the table. “Mind if I sit? Twisted my ankle yesterday.”
She hadn’t noticed him favoring a leg. But then, she’d purposely avoided gawking at him, afraid he might catch her. “Have an accident working with the horses?”
“I wish that was my excuse. Actually, I was on Annily’s treadmill.”
“What?” Frankie couldn’t help herself and laughed. “You’re exercising?” He had to be the fittest person she knew. What use would he have for a treadmill?
“The darn thing broke down, and she asked if I could fix it for her.”
“And after you did, you tested it out?”
“Something like that.”
Their conversation was relaxed and friendly. Too friendly. As if they were trying really hard to prove they could get along.
Did he also regret what had happened between them? Hard to tell; he seemed to be coping well.
“Other than that, how’s the job going?” she asked.
“Great. Not a single complaint.”
She’d been impressed with Spence when he informed her of his job/partnership agreement with Annily Farrington. He’d returned to Mustang Valley to start his own racing quarter horse farm and was well on his way. Perhaps not how he’d first envisioned his plan materializing, but it was materializing nonetheless.
Her plan, not so much. She’d done one small job since the family reunion. A dinner party with twenty guests. And not a single phone inquiry since. All that money spent on a commercial smoker, printing flyers, the many favors she owed family and friends, her falling out with Spence, had ultimately been for nothing. I-Hart-Catering was a dud.
How had Spence, a notorious flake, succeeded in realizing his goals and
not her? Okay, he wasn’t a flake. Not entirely. But she was the one who’d worked her tail off for years, and he got lucky betting on horses.
Also not fair, Frankie chided herself. Time to stop with the personal pity party.
Spence gave her a once-over. Apparently he’d noticed she wasn’t wearing her uniform, because he asked, “Weren’t you scheduled to work today?”
“Originally. I switched days with Sherry Anne and am taking the afternoon off.”
“Good. You deserve a break.”
At that moment, the twins came out from their bedroom, lugging their backpacks and carrying enough toys for a week rather than one night.
Frankie walked them outside, where they switched the car seats from her minivan to his truck.
“Bye, Mommy,” the girls chorused from the back seat.
“Don’t give your dad any trouble.”
“We won’t.”
Frankie backed away from the truck. Without warning, Spence’s arm snaked out and grabbed her waist, startling her. “Wha—”
“Thank you.” He pulled her into a hug and held on. “This means a lot to me. You trusting me with the girls.”
“Sure.”
He smelled incredible. She tried not to breathe, but then he tightened his hold on her, and she inadvertently inhaled. Mmmm—
Stop!
The pathetic attempt she made to extricate herself resulted in her mouth making brief contact with his jaw.
He emitted a low sound of pleasure.
Fan-freakin-tastic. Now he probably thought she’d kissed him on purpose. This was going from bad to worse.
“Spence.” Escaping his hold, she retreated a step.
“We’ll call you when we get there.”
“Yes. Please.”
He acted as if they hadn’t been clinging to each other mere seconds earlier.
Then again, maybe they hadn’t, and her imagination was playing tricks on her. That was a possibility. Right before Spence arrived, she had been bemoaning her miserable and lonely existence.
Smiling and waving, she waited until the truck reached the corner before going inside. The long afternoon, evening and all of tomorrow morning stretched ahead, with nothing interesting to occupy her other than housework and dwelling on recent regrets.
She was tossing another load of laundry into the washer when her cell phone chimed. Not recognizing the number, she let the call go to voice mail. Almost immediately, her curiosity got the best of her, and she listened to the message.
“Hi, Frankie. This is Marilyn Thompson. I was at the adoption event and got one of your flyers. Can you please give me a call at your earliest convenience? I’d love to chat with you about catering our wedding reception.”
Frankie couldn’t dial the woman’s number fast enough. “Hello, Marilyn?”
The bride-to-be babbled excitedly about the cowboy-themed wedding she and her groom were planning. They’d wanted to elope, and then leave for a week-long honeymoon in Cabo San Lucas, but both their families had raised such a fuss, they’d decided on a spur-of-the-moment wedding.
“We fly out Saturday morning,” Marilyn said. “A judge is marrying us at my parents’ home Friday afternoon and we were hoping you could cater a reception dinner. We’re skipping the white dress and tux and wearing jeans and cowboy hats instead. Won’t that be cute?”
“I love it!”
This was exactly the big distraction Frankie needed. “How many guests?”
“About seventy. Our parents are going overboard.”
They discussed the menu. Marilyn was happy to keep things simple. She wanted several sides to go with the brisket and chicken, including beans, coleslaw and homemade biscuits. Frankie told her she’d call back in an hour with a quote.
“You’re the best,” Marilyn said, a smile in her voice.
Just planning the menu and figuring the price put Frankie in a better mood. What was the old saying about happiness being contagious?
Marilyn was delighted with the price. “And can you also supply tables and chairs, and dinnerware and linens?”
“Certainly.” Frankie jotted down a note to hire help.
She and Marilyn agreed on a time later in the week to meet at Marilyn’s mother’s house, where Frankie would inspect the premises and have Marilyn sign a contract. With that done, she called the party rental store to place her order, which also included chafing dishes.
“We’ll need a deposit,” the woman said. “We take credit cards by phone.”
“Sure. Hold on.” Frankie retrieved her purse. Unsure how much remained on her credit line, she worried if the charge would go through. Thankfully, it did.
When she called the meat distributor, they also requested a deposit.
“Is this a new policy?” Frankie asked. “I’ve never had to put down a deposit before.”
“Well,” the owner drawled. “That was before you placed an order and didn’t pick it up.”
She gritted her teeth. Yet another repercussion from Spence’s monstrous whoops. “I can mail you a check tomorrow.” She’d move heaven and earth if necessary to find the money.
“We take credit cards,” the man said.
Of course they did.
The Fates had to be smiling on Frankie, for that charge also went through. A quick phone call afterward revealed she had less than thirty dollars available on her account.
Where was she going to get the money to fund Marilyn’s wedding reception? Frankie didn’t usually run this close on her expenses, but she’d just paid property taxes and the quarterly preschool tuition bill, both of which had gone up several hundred dollars.
She certainly wasn’t asking Spence. No way. She started to pull up her crowd-funding campaign on her phone, only to remember she’d closed it down two weeks ago, figuring she didn’t need it. Shoot!
Her parents would lend her the money, but she hated asking them, even though the loan would be short-term. Her father had been very generous with her recently, sharing his lottery winnings so that she could buy her house. Requesting more made her feel greedy and unappreciative.
No, she was going to resolve this problem on her own. She’d go to the bank and get a small loan against the equity in her house. That was what people did, right?
Lucky for her, the girls were with Spence. They’d never sit still while Frankie completed the loan paperwork. After throwing on semi-nice clothes, she hopped in her minivan and headed to the bank. After a five-minute wait, Reese Dempsey came out from her office to fetch her.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Reese said warmly.
“You are?” Frankie followed the other woman into her office.
“I’ve had the signature cards sitting on my desk for two weeks.”
She sat down in the nearest chair. “Is my other card outdated or something?” She must have received a notice in the mail and accidentally thrown it away.
“No. For the new account.” Reese’s smile never wavered as she pushed papers across the desk toward Frankie.
“What new account?”
“Sorry.” Reese looked confused. “Spence said he’d tell you and have you come in.”
“Spence?” Frankie knitted her brow. It was her turn to look confused.
“He opened an account for the girls and added you as a signatory. Their college fund, he said.”
Frankie was momentarily struck speechless. Spence had started a college fund for Paige and Sienna? “How much is in it?”
“Twenty thousand dollars.”
“You’re kidding!”
Reese stared at her curiously. “That’s not why you came in today?”
“I had no idea.” When had he planned on telling her? “I was going to talk to you about a home equity loan.”
�
�Well, we can certainly arrange that, too. But in the meantime, you’d make my job easier if you’d sign these.” She held out a pen.
Frankie hesitated, reading the account information. Twenty thousand dollars was no small sum and represented a good portion of Spence’s money. Money he could have used to purchase a larger partnership share of Farrington Farms. Only he hadn’t. Instead, he’d thought first of the twins and their future education.
Could she have been wrong about him? Blinded by her anger? He had tried to solve the problem when he’d arrived late to the distributor, even if half the meat he’d purchased wasn’t good enough quality.
What if he hadn’t called her because he knew she’d react exactly the way she did? Namely, get mad, blame him and refuse to listen to his side of the story?
A soft groan escaped her as understanding dawned. While Spence had been responsible and thoughtful, caring and selfless, she’d been angry, intolerant and unforgiving.
Frankie dropped her head into her hand.
“Is something wrong?” Reese asked.
“Nothing I can’t fix.” Flooded with determination and remorse, she scratched her signature on the papers, grabbed her purse and stood. “Thanks for your help, Reese.”
“What about the home equity loan?”
“I’ll be back tomorrow. I have something more important to take care of first.”
* * *
“YOU’RE OLD!” PAIGE EXCLAIMED.
Spence was a fairly easygoing person. Not the type to become flustered or embarrassed easily. Yet his twin daughters had succeeded where others dismally failed. Succeeded three times since he’d brought them to Farrington Farms, what? Two hours ago?
First, Sienna had accidentally stepped in a pile of horse manure outside the stables and screamed as if her hair were on fire. The head trainer and a barn hand had come running, the trainer holding out his phone, ready to dial 911.
When Spence took her over to the hose bib and rinsed off her sneakers, she’d sobbed hysterically, demanding to change into different shoes. And when Annily had been kind enough to bring out an old pair of rubber boots, Sienna pitched a fit, claiming, “They’re ugly and they stink.”
It appeared Spence might be making a trip to Scottsdale tonight for new shoes. At least the twins liked the pull-down Murphy bed in the casita, declaring it “Cool.”
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