Cowboy Strong (Cowboy Up Book 5)

by Allison Merritt

  Carlie slid her arm around Marcus and laid her head on his shoulder. “This is Marcus. He told you.”

  “I’m her fiancé.” Marcus’s voice boomed across the loft. Silence followed the proclamation. Carlie watched the play of emotions across her father’s face. Surprise, questioning, and then anger.

  “I came to take you back to New York to marry Jason Pick. Pack a bag. We can send for the rest of your things.” His clipped tone brooked no argument, but she’d heard it so many times in the past it didn’t faze her. For once.

  “No. Daddy. I’m not going back to New York. Marcus and I are getting married and staying here.” She met his gaze and matched his stare with one of her own. Marcus’s steadying presence gave her strength. Without him beside her, she’d have caved.

  “I’m not asking. I’m telling.” He swung his arm, motioning at the man at her side. “This man isn’t good enough for you. He’s only after your money.”

  “Mr. Fulton. I may not have done the proposing the right way, asking you and all first. But we are getting married. I love your daughter.” Marcus kissed her cheek.

  “Are you pregnant?” His words spat out of his mouth like cannon fire, and his sneer showed his true feelings.

  “No, I’m not. How could you even ask that?” She huffed and stomped her foot. “I’m not leaving Colorado. I’m marrying Marcus, and that’s that. You’re welcome to join us for dinner, but no more talk about leaving or New York.”

  Carlie’s dad nodded at his assistant. “We’ll stay in town and discuss this with YOU, Carlie, tomorrow. Now, where’s the nearest Four Seasons hotel?”

  She slid her fake smile into place. “Sorry. No Four Seasons nearby. You can stay here. I spend most of my nights at Marcus’s place anyway.”

  “No. I don’t want you sleeping there… I mean, I don’t want to put you out. I’m sure there must be a hotel in this town.” He brushed a piece of lint off his sleeve.

  “Yes, sir. The Whisper Motel. Out by the freeway. They recently did an upgrade on the bathrooms,” Marcus chimed in.

  “Fine. I’m sure it will do.” He strode over toward his daughter. “This way, you can stay here tonight.” He kissed her on her cheek then headed toward the stairs. He paused. “I’ll call you about a meeting tomorrow. We can do lunch. Just the two of us.”

  Carlie smiled, getting his meaning. “All right. Just call. But if I don’t answer, leave a voicemail. I might be at work or too busy.”

  “I’ll call. You’ll answer. Tomorrow.” He paused and waited. “Alan. Come.” Her father followed his assistant down the stairs.

  Marcus and Carlie waited in silence until the door shut below then she darted to the large window and watched them walked away.

  She strolled over and collapsed on the couch. “You were wonderful.”

  Marcus walked behind her and rubbed her shoulders.

  She blew out a heavy breath. “I’ve never seen him so angry. He looked like he’d swallowed a whole lemon.”

  “I couldn’t believe he thought you were pregnant. Although I expected the question…and I’m sure our friends will question our quick engagement. Maybe they will think we knew each other before the auction.”

  Carlie ran her palm over her flat stomach, imagining herself heavy with a baby. She’d never considered having a child until now. But when she pictured one with Marcus’s dark curls and his chocolate-brown eyes… She sighed then patted the cushion next to her. “Seriously, I’m hungry. We need to celebrate our first win against my dad.”

  Marcus sauntered around the sofa and sat down next to her. “Are you up for Daisy’s? They do have the best pizza and subs in town.” He arched his brows.

  “Sure.” She stood then grabbed his hand and tugged him to his feet. “My treat. A celebration.”

  Marcus shook his head as she led him to the stairs. “Somehow, I suspect the war just got started.”

  ***

  Daisy’s was bustling for a weeknight. A large tattooed man stood behind the counter, barking out orders and ringing up sales. To call him frightening was an understatement. He could have stepped off the pages of Biker Dude Magazine.

  Marcus called out when he entered. “Hey, Daisy. Any specials?”

  The beefy man smiled. “Good to see you, Marcus. You haven’t been in lately.” He strolled out from behind the counter and approached Carlie. “Who’s this beautiful lady with you?”

  Her cheeks heated as the big man kissed the back of her hand. His buzz cut accentuated the harshness of his features. With tattoos covering his arms like sleeves and peeking out from under the collar of his T-shirt, he appeared badass and dangerous.

  “This is Carlie Fulton, my fiancée. Carlie, this is Daisy.”

  Hearing it aloud, her heart beat faster. Fiancée. She liked the way it sounded on his lips. “Nice to meet you.” Her voice came out breathless. If just hearing Marcus refer to her as his future wife made her feel this way, what would happen if it became truth?

  A movement caught her eye. It was the chef from the auction, Pierre. He leered at her. His gaze felt dirty and vile. She glanced away. But when she glanced back, he was gone. Thank God. Pierre creeps me out. Big time. Smarmy, yes, but something more.

  “Congrats.” Daisy slapped Marcus’s back. “Let me make you a special treat tonight…to celebrate.”

  “Thanks. We’d like that.” Marcus tugged on her hand. “We’re going to grab that booth near the window. Can you bring us a couple of Dr. Peppers as well?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll have Junior bring them over right away.” Daisy spun and returned to the counter. A line of customers had stood waiting patiently. Carlie was embarrassed that they’d held up so many people. She hoped no one would be upset. She didn’t want to cost the restaurant any business.

  Sliding into the booth, she took a deep breath. A first date and an engagement in one day. Marcus sat down next to her, placing his arm across the back of the booth. She hoped they looked like any other couple, out on the town. Carlie twirled the ring around her finger. The beauty of the diamond flanked by the two sapphires caught her gaze. A warm feeling flooded her insides at the thought of wearing Marcus’s mother’s ring.

  “Did I hear correctly?” Debra O’Neill, the local real estate agent, and town know-it-all stood staring down at Carlie.

  She nodded then held out her hand, flashing the ring. “Marcus proposed. Isn’t the ring gorgeous?”

  Debra grinned. “So that’s why you bid so much on him. You didn’t want anyone else getting your man. I can’t wait to tell everyone how you two have kept this romance a secret. I didn’t even know you knew each other.” Daisy called out Debra’s name. “That’s my order. Congratulations. We will have to plan a girls’ night out so we can discuss details.” She winked at Carlie then strode over to the counter and scooped up her order.

  “You did good.” Marcus squeezed her shoulder. “Debra’s sure to share the news about town. Hopefully, you won’t get inundated with calls tonight, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Sadly, Marcus had been right. His phone had pinged all night with calls and texts, and he was positive hers had, too. He’d given up and finally turned his off, just so he could get some sleep. Reluctantly, he’d left Carlie alone that night. While she had told her dad they spent most nights together, he didn’t want to tempt fate. Since the first time he spotted her at the table during the auction, he’d been rock-hard from wanting her. The passionate kiss at the café hadn’t made it easier. Knowing she was a virgin almost made him explode.

  Only one week into their “engagement,” and he’d given up on a full-night’s sleep.

  She’d looked adorable wearing cowboy boots and his hat, watching him ride, but her in the leotard, showing a group of five-year-olds how to twirl had him grinning. They’d spent a good deal of time together. Enough for him to know how much he cared about her. Could it be love? I wish I could talk to my momma about it. Instinctively, he brushed his hand across the cross und
er his shirt. He needed her wisdom.

  Leaving Café French, Marcus’s stomach growled. He’d yet to have breakfast, and the blueberry and white-chocolate muffin was calling his name.

  “Mr. Wilson. Mr. Wilson.”

  He spun and saw Carlie’s father’s assistant running toward him.

  “I’m glad I caught you. Mr. Fulton wants to speak with you.”

  Marcus glanced around for her father but didn’t see him. “Where is he?”

  “He’s waiting in the car.” The man pointed. “Back there. If you’ll follow me.”

  As he walked behind the other man, Marcus was glad Carlie wasn’t with him. Her father had been on her case since they’d announced the engagement. He’d tried everything to get her to go back to New York, from threatening to take away her money—an idle threat—to getting her mother on the phone. Marcus was amazed at how she’d stood up for herself. Of course, her mother hadn’t been upset in the least. She’d even offered to come help pick out a wedding dress.

  He hated seeing Carlie stressed. Dark circles had formed under her eyes. Gone was the upbeat silliness of that first afternoon. She hardly smiled anymore. Maybe he could fix that by speaking with her father. Maybe he could end her problem once and for all. He needed to try.

  A black Mercedes SUV idled at the curb. Mr. Fulton’s assistant opened the rear driver’s door and nodded toward the interior.

  “Hold this.” Marcus tugged his hat from his head, handed his bag from the café to the assistant, and then slid into the seat. The door closed behind him.

  Mr. Fulton was on his cell phone discussing a business dealing, which gave Marcus a chance to study the man who’d been putting his daughter through hell. The dark suit appeared fashionable and was probably top-of-the-line, although Marcus didn’t know a good suit from a bad one. The red striped tie stood out against the white dress shirt, but the lines around the man’s eyes and mouth spoke of sleepless nights. Carlie’s dad was just as upset as his daughter. He wished he could bring the two of them back together. Fighting was such a waste of time, and he knew all too well how fate could mess up by letting you believe you had forever.

  Mr. Fulton pushed a button and placed his phone into his suit jacket. He glanced over at Marcus. “Thank you. I will only take a moment of your time, Mr. Wilson.”

  “It’s Marcus, sir. How is your hotel stay?”

  “No small talk, please. I’d rather just get started. My daughter means the world to me, and she won’t be happy married to a cowboy like you. She’ll come to miss New York and her lifestyle there.” He angled his head. “No offense, but I don’t see you being able to afford to keep my daughter in her current quality lifestyle. So, I’m prepared to offer you a present to walk away.”

  Marcus seethed. His heart broke for Carlie. How could her father believe she’d only be interested in living the high life? Did he know her at all?

  Mr. Fulton withdrew a slip of paper from his jacket pocket and handed it over to Marcus.

  Marcus unfolded the check. He clenched his jaw. One million dollars? He peeked again to be sure.

  “Sir.” He folded the check again and handed it back over. “I’m sorry. I can’t take this.”

  “Wasn’t it enough?” The bellow echoed in the car.

  “It wasn’t the amount. I’m sorry you don’t know your daughter enough to realize that money isn’t what’s important to her. And while I know she’ll miss some things about New York, I hope one of the things won’t be you or your wife. Not seeing her family would kill her.”

  Anger darkened her father’s visage. “You think you know my daughter?”

  Marcus bit his tongue. He took a deep breath before he spoke. “I do. My parents passed away about a year ago. I’d do anything to spend more time with them, and I know your daughter wants to see her family as well. But, right now, you are pushing her away. You can’t see that she’s an adult who knows what she wants. When will you begin to trust her?” He opened the door then turned to confront her father. “I hope you realize your mistake before you push your daughter out of your life.”

  He slammed the door and took his package from the assistant. “Thank you for holding it. If he needs to talk to me again, calling might be better.” He slid his Stetson onto his head. “At least, that way, I won’t be tempted to punch his lights out.”

  Marcus took two steps then returned to the assistant. He handed the bag to the man. “Here. Suddenly, my appetite is gone.” He marched down the sidewalk to his truck. I can’t ride the bulls this angry. It’s too dangerous. Putting his truck in drive, he headed back to Trey’s ranch. Maybe I can work off some of this energy by cleaning stalls or repairing fences. He shrugged his shoulders. Should’ve just hit the man.

  ***

  Carlie needed to get changed for her afternoon five-year-old class. She’d done a bit of shopping. Her arms were laden with grocery bags. Balancing a bag on her hip, she dug her keys out of her pocket. As she pushed the key into the lock, a voice whispered in her ear.

  “Don’t move. I have a gun pointed at you.”

  Carlie gasped, frozen. “What do you want?” She turned to see who’d spoke. “Pierre?”

  “You’re coming with me. Bring the bags. We’ll just take a quiet little walk to my car, and no one will get hurt.” He tugged on her left arm, pulling her away from the safety of her apartment.

  Her keys slid to the ground as she turned. I hope someone sees them. “What do you want? You never answered me.” Her voice came out more confident than she was. Main Street was a busy place. She hoped someone would stop them or distract Pierre so she could escape.

  “Your dad will pay a pretty penny to get you back.” The smell of alcohol wafted toward Carlie’s nose.

  He’s drunk. Maybe an escape would be easy. “My dad’s mad at me, but I’m sure he’ll give you the money. Just let me call him. We can take care of this right now.” The heavy bags tugged on her arms, cutting off the circulation to her fingers. They’d begun to tingle.

  Roughly, he squeezed her arm, pulling her down an alley off Main Street, crushing her hopes of being seen.

  “I know all about your father’s anger and your stupid engagement. I’d hoped to win your love first, but that didn’t happen. You never bid on me the night of the auction. If you had, I’d be the one marrying you, being welcomed into the family.”

  They approached a gray van. Carlie remembered reading that most kidnap victims were killed or harmed. Fighting and losing would be better than what awaited her. Turning, she used the weight and momentum from the groceries to knock into Pierre, however, the bags missed him. Glancing up she caught sight of the butt of the gun coming toward her then blackness. “Marcus…” Her voice came out in a whisper.

  ***

  Marcus put in two hours of unloading bales of hay and stacking them in the feed barn. Itchy and sweaty, he paused and wiped the dampness off his forehead with the back of his sleeve. No longer angry, he’d worked off the frustration of dealing with Mr. Fulton. The hard work gave him time to think. Telling Carlie about her father’s bribe would only hurt her, the one thing he never wanted to do.

  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. No cute little texts from Carlie, no missed calls. An image of her with her head thrown back in laughter filled his mind. When he hit her number, the call went straight to voicemail. “Dinner, tonight? Miss you.” A short, sweet message.

  A tingle slid down his spine. In all the time he’d known Carlie, she’d always answered. Something was wrong. “Hey, Trey. I’m heading out. Thanks for letting me work out some frustration.”

  His buddy lifted his head from the hay he’d been shoveling then chuckled. “That’s what you get for letting a woman in your life. Sara knows how to push me to the edge of sanity. But the times we make up are worth any fighting. Good Luck!”

  “Thanks.” Marcus didn’t bother correcting Trey about what had him frustrated. If I don’t hear from her, I’ll swing by her place before heading to mine to show
er. Too bad I don’t have a spare set of clothes, or I could shower there.

  The drive into town felt like hours when it actually was only about ten minutes. The tingle had continued since he’d pulled out his phone. Why hasn’t she called back? He knew something was wrong. Marcus turned down the main street. A parking spot stood open, just past the café. Whipping his car into the spot, he jumped from the driver’s seat and booked toward Carlie’s apartment. He stood in front of her door and laid on the doorbell. Shuffling his feet, he listened for any noise from upstairs. Clink.

  What is that? He spotted her keys on the ground. His stomach clenched with worry. She’d never leave these lying around. Bending down, he picked them up then used them to open her apartment. As he ran up the stairs, he tugged his cross from beneath his shirt and prayed as he’d never prayed before.

  On the top landing, he called, “Carlie. Are you here?” Only silence greeted him. He went from room to room but found nothing out of place. Whipping out his phone, Marcus dialed the sheriff’s department. “Hello. This is Marcus Wilson. I need to report a possible kidnapping.”

  “Hey, Marcus. Who’s missing?” A friendly voice. Deputy Sheriff Max Carson had lived in Whisper all his life. He’d been a junior bull rider but, after a serious accident, he gave up the life for something more sedate.

  “Carlie Fulton’s missing. Her keys were on the sidewalk in front of her door. She’s not inside, and I can’t get ahold of her.”

  “Technically, we have to wait twenty-four hours to file a missing person’s report, but I’m about to go on my rounds. I’ll swing by.”

  Relief flooded through his veins. Max believed him. “I’m going to see if her car is outside. I’ll wait for you on the curb.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Carlie’s head pulsed with pain in time with her heartbeat. She tried to lift her hands but couldn’t move them. Opening her eyes, all she saw was darkness. Panicked, she screamed.