Now, Paige stood with her hands on her hips—her resemblance to Frankie downright uncanny—and giving Annily careful consideration.
Before Spence could apologize to his boss for the rude remark, she erupted in a loud belly laugh.
“You’re right about that, cuddle bug. I am old.”
“Paige,” Spence said, “please apologize to Mrs. Farrington.”
“For what?” the little girl asked, her mouth compressed into a pout.
“Saying someone’s old isn’t polite.”
“Why?”
Sienna had turned away and was staring at the house, ignoring them while she continued to sulk over the shoe disaster.
“People shouldn’t comment on a person’s age,” Spence tried to explain. The more time he spent with his daughters, the more trouble he had getting them to understand what made perfect sense to him.
“Don’t worry yourself about it.” Annily patted Paige’s head. “I’m not insulted.”
Spence had started to think the overnight visit was a bad idea. How could he have thought parenting was easy? It was without question the most difficult job he’d ever attempted.
His respect for Frankie grew yet again. She’d done amazingly well, all by herself. And rather than help her or simplify her life, he’d caused her trouble with one mistake after the other.
“It’s Mommy!” Sienna’s high-pitched voice threatened to rupture Spence’s eardrums, and she started to run.
He caught her before she got more than a few feet away. “Wait. Don’t take off.”
“But she’s here.” Sienna pulled against his hold.
Indeed, Frankie’s minivan drove slowly through the gate. She stopped, perhaps to get her bearings, then started forward again. Spotting them in front of the stables, she waved.
“Mommy!” Paige jumped up and down with excitement.
What was she doing here?
Annily stepped up beside him. “Did you forget something?”
“Apparently so.” That must be the reason, thought Spence. “I can only hope she brought a pair of shoes for Sienna.”
He motioned for Frankie to park near the hitching rail, and taking the girls’ hands, walked over to meet her. Annily came, too.
“You’re here!” Sienna shouted.
There was no stopping the twins once Frankie stepped out of the van. They freed themselves from Spence and charged her, clinging to her for dear life.
Spence grumbled under his breath. The last couple hours weren’t that bad.
“Hi.” Annily extended her hand to Frankie. “Welcome, and nice to meet you. Sorry I wasn’t here yesterday when you dropped by.”
Frankie surveyed her surroundings. “Your place is gorgeous. What amazing views.”
“Thank you. I’m very proud of Farrington Farms.”
“We petted the horses,” Paige announced.
“How nice.” Frankie gave each girl a squeeze.
“Sienna stepped in poop and cried.”
“Uh-oh.”
Sienna buried her face in Frankie’s leg.
“What brings you here?” Spence asked. Had her mom instinct reached across the miles, alerting her that the girls weren’t happy?
“I apologize for barging in without calling ahead, but I need to talk to you.” She shifted uncomfortably. “It couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
She’d changed her mind and had come to retrieve the girls. What other explanation could there be than she didn’t trust him, after all?
Well, he’d fight her, he decided. She couldn’t just show up out of the blue and disrupt their plans, no matter how angry she was at him.
Fidgeting, she pushed at her short hair. “Wow. I practiced what I was going to say on the drive here, and now I can’t remember a single word.”
“I have an idea.” Annily bent and lowered her face to the girls’ level. “Why don’t you two come with me inside the house? Give your folks a few minutes alone to talk. I have some homemade brownies, if your mom says it’s okay, and a jump rope in the closet that belongs to my granddaughter.”
Sienna frowned and shook her head.
Paige, however, showed interest. “I want a brownie.”
“Mommy won’t be long.” Frankie gave them a little shove toward Annily.
Once they left, Frankie continued to push at her hair and fidget.
Her nervousness started wearing off on Spence. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I—” She surprised him by reaching for his hand. “Walk with me.”
He recalled the night they’d told the girls he was their father. She’d impulsively held his hand then, too, for support. What was her reason now?
“I was at the bank today,” she finally said. “I wanted to get a line of credit against the equity in my house. For a big catering job.”
“You need money? Why didn’t you ask me?”
“I was trying to resolve the problem on my own.”
“I understand.”
“I know you do,” she said. “Took me a while, but I see you really were trying to fix things when the distributor was closed. I’m sorry for not listening and not appreciating your efforts.”
“Um, thanks?” Not at all where he’d expected their conversation to go. “You were right, though. I should have contacted you instead of going straight to the stores.”
“We’re the same in that regard. Both problem solvers.”
The pressure of her fingers increased, and Spence experienced the many effects. He could barely draw a decent breath. Swore his heart might explode. Battled a wild desire to stop short and haul her flush against him.
Perhaps he should dial back that last one.
“We’re also the same when it comes to business,” she continued, seemingly oblivious to his inner turmoil. “We’re ambitious and want to be our own boss.”
“I think that’s why I never settled down before.”
“So do I,” she agreed.
“In case you’re worried, don’t be. I’m staying, Frankie. For good. You can take that to the bank.”
She stopped and faced him but didn’t let go of his hand. “Speaking of the bank, Reese mentioned the college fund you opened for the girls.”
“She’s not very good at keeping secrets.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I figured you’d get mad and insist I close the account.”
The hint of a smile lit her face. “Kind of stubborn, aren’t I?”
“I prefer ‘independent.’”
“You could have used that money to buy a larger partnership share of Farrington Farms. But you put the girls first. Nothing you’ve done has impressed me more, Spence.”
“Yeah, well, you have every reason not to trust me. To hate me, if you chose.”
Her expression softened. “That would be impossible.”
He went still. Something had definitely changed with her, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Why, Frankie?” Excitement surged inside him, and he moved closer.
She did, too. “I love you, Spence. I always have and always will. You drive me crazy. Infuriate me to the point I want to scream.” She lifted her arms and linked them around his neck. “You’re also the sweetest, funniest, most charming and sexiest man I know. You work as hard as you play and love even harder. You make me feel like there’s nobody else in the world you’d rather be with.”
“There isn’t. I came back to Mustang Valley with one purpose in mind. Winning you back.” When had his voice gone hoarse? “The funny thing is I found a whole lot more. I found a family.”
“One you weren’t ready for.”
“No.” He anchored her to him. “You’re wrong about t
hat. I love those girls. They’re everything to me.”
“That’s good.” She angled her body, fitting herself to him as if they were two halves of a whole. “Because they’re everything to me, too.”
“See? One more thing we have in common.”
She laughed, the sound light and carefree and full of delight. The way it should be between two people who were—yes, he could say it—meant to be together.
“I want to be more than your business partner,” Spence said.
“Is that a proposal? Because before you answer, I landed a catering job this weekend and need some cheap labor.”
“Where do I apply?”
“Are you sure? The interview process is very extensive.” Her arms tightened, and she lifted her mouth within kissing range. “It might take several hours and require your undivided attention.”
“I’ll clear my schedule.” Brushing his lips across hers, he said, “Now, about that proposal.”
“Don’t rush me. I’m thinking.” She smiled coyly. “I’ve been waiting a lot of years for this moment and am going to savor it.”
“Then allow me do a better job.” Spence captured her gaze. “Marry me, Frankie Hartman. Not because it’s the right thing to do, though it is. Not because you, me and the girls deserve to be a family, which we do. And not because you and I would make good business partners, once you whip me into shape.”
“Spence.” Her expression melted.
“I love you, honey. And if you just say yes, we can have it all. Our daughters, your catering business, my racing farm.”
“Whoa, cowboy. You’re sweeping me off my feet.”
“I’m saving that for later. Now, pick a date.”
She laughed again. “Let’s talk about it. There’s still my job at the café. I either commit to the change in management and do my best, or I leave.”
“I’ll support you whatever you decide.”
“That means a lot to me.”
He kissed her then, hard and long and without holding back. Emotions arched between them, old as the day they’d first met and new as tomorrow’s sunrise. They would, Spence had no doubts, be there always.
“Mommy. Daddy! What are you doing?” Paige and Sienna’s voices carried across the distance.
Slowly, Spence and Frankie broke apart.
“I suppose we’ll have to get used to being interrupted.”
“You mind?” she asked, just as the twins reached them.
“Not at all.”
For now, Spence was reveling in his family. Life had certainly thrown him some incredible twists and turns lately—ultimately landing him right where he was supposed to be. Personally, he couldn’t wait for what came next.
* * * * *
Watch for more stories in Cathy McDavid’s MUSTANG VALLEY miniseries! THE BULL RIDER’S VALENTINE, coming January 2018, only from Harlequin Western Romance!
Keep reading for an excerpt from A SON FOR THE COWBOY by Sasha Summers.
Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!
Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards
http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010003
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Western Romance story.
Do you love small towns and cowboys? Harlequin® Western Romance books are contemporary stories of everyday women finding love, becoming part of a family or community—or maybe starting a family of her own.
Enjoy four new stories from Harlequin Western Romance every month!
Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Other ways to keep in touch:
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
HarlequinBlog.com
Join Harlequin My Rewards & Instantly earn a FREE ebook of your choice.
Earn points for every Harlequin print and ebook you buy, wherever & whenever you shop.
Turn your points into FREE BOOKS.
Don’t miss out. Reward the book lover in you!
Register Today & Earn a FREE BOOK*
*New members who join before December 31st, 2017 will receive 2000 points redeemable for eligible titles.
Click here to register
Or visit us online to register at
http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010001
A Son for the Cowboy
by Sasha Summers
Chapter One
Poppy tucked a brown curl behind her ear and rested her chin on her steering wheel, admiring the denim-clad rear of the big, brawny cowboy peering in the picture window of her newly purchased storefront. Those jeans should be downright illegal. Or the rear that was wearing them should. Something about a nice butt in a work-worn pair of Wranglers got her every time. Hey, she appreciated beauty where she saw it.
“This it, Ma?” Rowdy asked, his sleep-thickened voice ending her ogling.
“This is it,” she said, smiling at her son as she climbed out of her truck. She’d spent hours planning out the remodel for the shop. The place was perfect for what she had in mind, just perfect—oozing country charm, cowboy mystique and simpler times. She could envision shiny belt buckles, bits and bridles in the glass case at the register. The hats and boots along the back wall. Clothing on the left, housewares on the right. Everything cowboy, everything quality and everything unique. With all her contacts from the rodeo circuit, she knew she’d be able to give her patrons the best possible quality. She couldn’t wait to get started. “Want to go inside?”
Rowdy shrugged, unbuckling his seat belt. “Sure.” He yawned, barely waking up. It had been a long car ride and the kids had been as good as gold. Not a complaint among them. A rarity, really.
“What do you two think?” she asked, opening the back door of her four-door diesel truck. “We can poke around, see how the contractor’s doing on the shelving, then go get some breakfast? Then head out to the new place. There’ll be plenty of room to run there.”
Her niece and nephew looked at her, their lack of interest or enthusiasm no longer surprising her.
“Good, let’s go,” she said, pulling the store keys from her pocket and climbing onto the wooden porch.
“Can’t we eat first?” Otis asked.
“Yeah, I’m hungry, too,” Dot added.
“Soon we will,” she promised, ignoring the grating tone they used. They tended toward that nasal whine to wear down a person’s resistance until they got what they wanted. Poppy refused to buckle. She was excited—hoped they’d get excited, too.
“Chill,” Rowdy said, less patient than she was. “You just ate a granola bar and an apple. You’re not starving.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, not wanting things to escalate between them. Even if he was right.
“So it’s true? You’re the new owner?” Mr. Cute-Butt Cowboy asked.
She nodded, glancing his way. And stared. No. No. No. This isn’t fair. Not now. Not here. Toben Boone cannot be here.
“I had to see it with my own two eyes.” He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, smiling, dimples showing. “Poppy White. Out of the saddle and—” his eyes traveled over the kids “—domesticated.” She stared. Speechless.
She was responsible. Domesticated? Why did he make it sound like an insult?
Responsibility was something Toben Boone knew nothing about. Words spun. So many words. None of which mattered. Her heart was thumping, but she didn’t know if it was caused by anger or surprise or panic.
She glanced at her son, but he had his face pressed against the glass—unaware.
“Morning,” she managed, fumbling with the key before openin
g the door. Rowdy rushed past her and into the shop. Dot and Otis lingered, looking bored, on the wooden plank porch. “Why don’t you go look around?” she said to them. “We’ll go check out the house after we eat. You can unwind for a while there.”
Dot shot her a death glare and Otis sighed before they moved at a glacial pace into the building.
“Those all yours?” Toben asked, watching the two sullen children shuffle inside. His eyebrow cocked up in question.
Damn but he hadn’t changed much. He was clean shaven now, but his jaw was covered in stubble. He was still far too easy on the eyes, with his straw hat cocked forward and jeans that fit like a glove. He still had that...charisma. The first time they’d met, she’d sat on her bar stool and watched him in action. He’d been impressive. Whether he was riding a bronc, dancing to George Strait or picking up a woman, he did so with a confidence that drew the eye. And she knew from firsthand experience that he had every right to be confident.
She shook her head. “Rose, my sister’s.” A sister who needed a vacation, desperately. Nothing like cancer and chemotherapy to realize how precious time was. Rose and Bob had flown to the Bahamas for a romantic two-week getaway, leaving Poppy with their kids. They hadn’t met the halfway mark yet and Poppy’s patience was fading.
Toben nodded, pushing off the doorframe. He seemed bigger, taking up more space. “What brings you to Stonewall Crossing, Poppy? I never figured you for the small-town shopkeeper sort.” He tipped his hat back with his finger and stared down at her with those baby blues.
“Considering how well you knew me?” she asked, refusing to get lost in his eyes. Sure, they’d known of each other on the circuit. But they’d spent ten, maybe twelve, hours together before she’d headed to Santa Fe. And in that time, they hadn’t done a lot of talking.
He chuckled. “What I knew, I liked. A hell of a lot.”
She smiled reluctantly. Sonofabitch that he was, he still had that boyish charm about him. All dimples, blue eyes and blond curls. Hard not to get sucked in. “I’ve got things to do.”
The Cowboy's Twin Surprise Page 20