Her Forever Cowboy

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Her Forever Cowboy Page 26

by Debra Salonen


  One thing this time apart had proven was how much Anne missed Zoey. They talked every day at lunch--mid-morning Zoey's time. The fifteen or so minutes were by far the bright spot in Anne's day. And if Will or A.J. happened to pick up when Anne called, she considered it a bonus. She missed them all.

  Additionally, emails had become her life source. Will had purchased a digital camera, and he'd taught Zoey how to send photos over the Internet. The most recent image had been waiting for Anne when she arrived at her desk an hour earlier.

  Although it probably conflicted with her ultra-professional image, Anne had saved the photo to serve as her desktop's wallpaper, so every time she looked at her computer screen she saw Zoey and Tressa hanging upside down like happy monkeys from side-by-side trapeze bars. The email message that came with it read:

  “Will took us to the park. We had fun. I love you, Zoey. P.S.: Tressa's school starts on Monday. Can I go with her?"

  School. The word had sent a jolt of panic through Anne. What kind of mother forgot to register her nine-year-old daughter for school?

  One whose corporation was undergoing a major overhaul. From the moment Anne had walked through the door of her office, she'd been besieged with files, reports, correspondence and complaints. Normally, her attention-to-detail mind thrived on this kind of challenge, but now she found it boring, redundant and inane.

  She rested her head on her hand and sighed. She wasn't the type who gave up easily. She'd fought Barry about the divorce, insisting they could fix the problems between them with counseling. She'd pushed her mother to hang on well past the point where Esther's body had given up the fight.

  Is that what I'm doing here? Holding on to an outdated goal?

  Maybe it was time to admit she wasn't the same person who once sat at this desk. The new and improved Anne Fraser belonged in Nevada--where her family was. Where her life was.

  But there was still the issue of health care insurance.

  Where's that new employee benefit package? She found the folder and started reading. Half an hour later she was smiling. She and Zoey were entitled to extended coverage for eighteen months. Enough time to find a new policy.

  She opened her word processing program and started typing.

  Attention: Roger

  Regarding: Resignation

  Dear Roger, please accept my resignation effective immediately. I regret any inconvenience this might cause, but family commitments require my presence in Nevada permanently. Thank you for your support and friendship over the past years.

  Most sincerely,

  Anne

  She had her finger on the mouse button ready to hit send, when the door of her office opened. "Anne," Roger McFinney said, charging into the room without waiting for an invitation. "Thank God you're here. Come quick. You won't believe what's just happened."

  Anne rose. "Roger, I was just--"

  He cut her off. "Whatever it is can wait. The board just met and it looks like WHC is undergoing a complete overhaul. I've been named CEO, Anne. That means you're going to be my VP."

  "Vice president?" she croaked.

  "You earned it, my friend. All that long-distance work this summer is paying off royally. You know what kind of salary we're talking, right? And with the two of us at the helm, we'll be pulling in bonuses that ought to buy you that house in the country you always wanted."

  Anne couldn't move.

  Roger laughed at her apparent shock. He hurried to her desk and took her arm. "Come on. The press is gathering for the announcement. Do you need to powder your nose? It looks like it's peeling."

  She put her hand to her face as Roger pulled her with him. Her last glance was over her shoulder at her computer screen where her grinning daughter was hanging upside down, like a monkey.

  Will sank into a comfortable chair in the lobby of one of Reno's most popular hotels. He was a few minutes early for his appointment with Walt Crain. Since this was a casual meeting to go over the results of the test the doctor had run on Will the day after Anne left, both men agreed a less formal setting was fine.

  The pneumatic doors opened and the noise level rose as a busload of retirees passed through the lobby into the adjoining casino. Many looked A.J.'s age or older, but somehow Will couldn't picture his grandfather participating in that kind of organized activity. Since his return, A.J. had seemed at peace. Happy, even. But that was partly due to with Zoey's presence. Who knew what would happen when she left?

  On the wall opposite Will was an oversize poster announcing the big Buck-Off scheduled to take place Labor Day weekend. A small, nostalgic flutter of anxiety passed through his belly before he glanced at his watch. He was impatient to return to the ranch. He wanted to take Zoey for a ride this afternoon. Just the two of them. The aspens were starting to turn color and Will wanted her to experience a tiny taste of autumn in the mountains before she returned to the city.

  Unfortunately, he'd gotten a late start this morning because two guests had been determined to make Will understand how much they'd enjoyed their trip. "Best second honeymoon ever," the husband had said.

  "Well, almost anything would beat our first," his wife had qualified. "He came down with food poisoning from his aunt's goose-liver paté and we spent most of the time in the emergency room, but since then we've taken a lot of trips and this was by far the best."

  "We're coming back for three weeks next year," the man promised.

  Will had been pleased. He hadn't expected to care about this job. He'd planned to hide out in the barn most of the summer and let Anne handle the guests, but somewhere along the way, he'd gotten involved--and discovered that he liked the people who came to the ranch to experience a life radically different from their normal routine. Keeping them stimulated and entertained had become a challenge, and to his immense surprise, he'd discovered he was good at it.

  "You're a born teacher," his grandfather had told him the other day after watching Will instruct several guests on the art and science of shoeing a horse. "Just like your mother."

  Later, Will had asked A.J. to explain the comment.

  "Your mother was a sweet gal who had plans to be a teacher until she fell in love with your daddy," Will's grandfather told him. "Kinda hard to go to school when you're on the road so much. And then you came along. But she was taking correspondence courses at the time of the accident. And she volunteered in your classroom quite a bit."

  If Will had known that, he'd never given it any thought. Oddly, his entire focus had always been on his father. Why?

  A.J. had provided the answer a minute later when he said, "John was larger than life. Loud. Demanding. Your mother was the steady one. You could count on her to get the job done in a quiet, more serious way. The way you do."

  From his earliest memory, Will had wanted to be just like his father. His mother had receded into his mind as a fuzzy image. Perhaps her strength went unappreciated until he met Anne. No mother bear would defend her cub with greater zeal than Anne, who was willing to sacrifice her personal happiness to make the best life possible for her daughter. Never in a million years would she have gotten into a car with a drunk driver and risked not being a part of her child's life.

  A shiver passed through his body. A shiver of understanding. Maybe the reason his mother had remained a blank spot in his memory was that Will resented her for leaving him. Mother's weren't supposed to die. Fathers did hurtful things sometimes, like bullying their sons or dying in an accident. But mothers were supposed to be there to ease the suffering.

  He closed his eyes and rubbed a pain that blossomed in center of his forehead. He wished he could tell his mother he was sorry for ignoring her memory for so long.

  "That's not the part of your head that's supposed to hurt," a voice said.

  Will looked up. "The headache is from being kept waiting." He retorted. Rising, Will shook Walt Crain's hand. "How's it going, Doc? Have you got Saturday's lineup ready to go?"

  Walt nodded toward the bar. "How 'bout I buy you a beer whil
e we talk about it?"

  "Sounds good to me."

  Walt's eyebrow lifted. No doubt he was surprised that Will wasn't chomping at the bit to hear the results of his tests.

  Will ushered him to the bar, where built-in video-poker games invited them to insert dollar bills into the slot provided. Will held up two fingers and gave the name of the beer he knew Walt favored. While they waited for the bartender to pour two drafts, Walt removed a folder from his calfskin briefcase. "I have the results of your CAT scan and MRI."

  "Am I going to live?"

  Walt chuckled. "Of course. You're not only remarkably tough, but you heal faster than anybody I've ever met. Still, if you're planning to ride this weekend, I'm going to require some extra--."

  Will cut him off. "I'm not ridin', Doc. I've decided to retire."

  Walt's eyes widened and he gave a low whistle. "Well, I'll be damned. You finally came to your senses." A grin spread across his florid face. "Must be a woman somewhere in this story."

  Will had no reason to lie. "Her name is Anne, and she has a nine-year-old daughter. Zoey. I taught her to ride this summer."

  Their beers arrived and Walt waited to lift his glass in a toast. "To the best news I've had all week. Congratulations, my friend."

  Will made the obligatory clink. "Thank you."

  "Have you set a date?"

  Will took a healthy draught of the cold brew before answering. "Not exactly. First, I have to convince her to marry me."

  Walt nodded as though he understood. "She wasn't wild about the idea of you spilling what's left of your brains on the arena floor, right?"

  The image made Will shudder. "That was part of it, but there are other issues. Her job, for one. It's in New York. Where she is at the moment."

  Walt gave him a pointed look. "Have you told her you're giving up bulls?"

  "Not yet. I thought you deserved to hear it first." While Will didn't always agree with the man's opinion, he never doubted the M.D.'s integrity.

  Walt obviously was touched by the gesture. "Well, I appreciate that, son, but you're not going to get her back by sitting here. Go tell her."

  "I'm planning on it. Next week, when I take her daughter back home."

  Walt reached out and flicked the crown of Will's head. "Did that last bull loosen a bolt in there? I didn't see it in the MRI, but those things aren't foolproof, you know."

  Will rubbed the stinging spot. "What are you talking about?"

  "Cowboys," Walt groaned, throwing up his hands. "The kind of courting you need to do is best done outa sight of the children. Groveling and begging will definitely be in order."

  Before Will could muster a comeback, Walt pulled his phone from his briefcase and pushed a button. Will tried to follow the one-sided conversation, but since it mostly consisted of "yep," "nope," and "okay," he was thoroughly unprepared when Walt looked at him and said, "You're good to go. My jet will fly you to LaGuardia. From there, you take a taxi into town. After that, you're on your own."

  Will gave his head a shake. "Since when do you have a private jet?"

  Walt brightened like a little boy with a new toy. "I just bought it. My son-in-law is a pilot, so we can keep it in the family. Comes in handy when one of my superstar bull riders gets hurt and I happen to be golfing on the opposite side of the country."

  He rose and urged Will to his feet. "Now get going. But, just so you know, this isn't a taxi service. The jet's coming straight back. I have to be in Albuquerque on Thursday. If she turns you down, it's a long walk home."

  Will felt overwhelmed by gratitude. He didn't know what to say. He held out his hand. "Thanks, Doc. For everything."

  Walt shook his hand then pulled him into a quick hug. "You were one of the best, Will. Don't ever doubt it. You had great heart, and you left your mark on the industry. What more can a man ask from a job?"

  A job. Will repeated the word as he drove to the airstrip on the edge of town. Somewhere along the line, he'd lost sight of that simple fact. Bull riding had been his job. He'd made a good living from it. So good, in fact, he could afford to start a second career.

  The job he was hoping for was a multifaceted position--husband, father, and businessman. The first two depended on Anne.

  Anne pressed the send button on her keyboard and watched as the email message disappeared into cyberspace. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to compose her jumbled thoughts. The long, grueling day had had a surreal edge to it. At times, Anne felt like Alice falling through a tunnel into a world where the future looked rosy, where every dream she had ever had about her place in business had come true.

  Unfortunately, each tantalizing new aspect of the WHC reorganization proposal held less interest to her than the seed catalogue that had somehow wound up in her mail.

  She'd smiled and shook hands when prompted, like a marionette. "She's in shock," she'd heard Roger say time and again to explain her wooden responses.

  Culture shock, she thought, picking up the colorful sales brochure that claimed to be "every gardener's friend." She could use that kind of friend, not the throng of people who'd come up to her after the press conference with fake smiles of congratulations.

  Maybe she was suffering from reality shock. The reality that she didn't belong in this world any more. She couldn't give this life the dedication she had in the past because its goals and objectives no longer mattered to her.

  Success is relative. Doubling my tomato harvest would qualify as a victory, wouldn't it? The basket of ripe, red fruit on the page made her mouth water.

  Helping Zoey grow up into a generous, caring person would certainly qualify as a victory. And how could loving a man and being loved in return not be worth more than restricted use of the corporate jet?

  Anne knew the answer. It had taken time for the truth to soak in. She wanted the life she'd come to adore in Nevada. The rustic old ranch house--there was still so much work to do on it. Her beautiful daughter--another work in progress. A.J.--with his wry wisdom and the history he had to share. And most of all--Will.

  A single rap on the door made Anne sit up. Braced for the confrontation she knew was coming, she said, "Come in."

  She closed her eyes for a moment to gather strength then folded her hands on her desk and took a steadying breath. "That was fast."

  "Felt like forever to me."

  Anne's mouth dropped open. Shock and joy pumped through her veins. She jumped to her feet so fast her chair went scuttling across the room and her head started to spin. "Will," she exclaimed. "Oh, my God, what are you doing here?"

  He cleared the distance in three giant steps. His kiss was hard and needy, and might have lasted forever if he hadn't pulled back to tell her, "It takes heart to ride bulls. You've got to want it bad. But all I want is you, Anne. I have officially retired from bull riding."

  Anne was too overwhelmed to speak. "Your dream--"

  "Isn't worth squat without you. I'm moving to New York. I've decided to sell my land and use the money to go to college. I think I'd like to teach someday." He cradled her face in his hands. "It doesn't matter where we live, but we have to be together."

  Tears clustered in her eyes and it was all she could do to say, "You're wrong, Will. It does matter where we live. We can't run the Silver Rose from New York."

  "A.J. can run the Silver Rose," he said stubbornly then paused. "Did you say we?"

  Anne nodded. "I love you, Will Cavanaugh. I want to be with you, but only if you'll marry me."

  His face lit up. "You're asking me?"

  "I looked it up in the male handbook. Modern men aren't afraid to let the woman do the asking. It shows they're sensitive and confident of their masculinity."

  He threw back his head and laughed. "You are too much. And I love you." His expression grew serious. "I might not always say the right thing or do the right thing, but I will always love you, Anne. I always have."

  Before Anne could reply, her office door flew open. Roger McFinney stormed in. "Anne, what the hell is goin
g on?" he demanded, waving a page of printer paper. He stopped abruptly when he spotted Will. "Who the hell are you?"

  Will wrapped an arm around Anne. "Will Cavanaugh. Anne's fiancé. You must be the jerk who kept her working night and day this summer."

  Roger seemed to lose some of his bluster when faced with a no-nonsense bull rider in boots and a leather jacket. He took a step to the side and focused his attention on Anne. "I got your email. Your resignation. Tell me you're not serious. You're not going to give up the opportunity of a lifetime to run off to some silly ranch and play cowgirl?"

  Anne felt Will's low grow reverberate through her. She soothed him with a hand on his chest. "Yes, Roger, I meant every word. I appreciate the faith you've shown in me, but I can't accept the position of vice president. I've accepted a new job--chief cook and bottle washer at the Silver Rose."

  Roger made a disparaging sound and shook his head. "Fine. It's your choice. You'll be bored out of your mind within a year. In fact, what will you do all winter? Didn't you tell me that place was a summer venue?"

  She looked at Will. "Gee, honey, if you're not going to be riding bulls and I'm not going to have guests to look after, whatever will we do to pass the time?"

  The look he gave her could have melted chocolate at ten paces. "We'll think of something."

  Roger let out a loud huff and slammed the door on his way out.

  Anne looked after him and sighed. "He's just upset because they made him CEO this morning and now he won't have a proven flunky to pick up after him."

  Will kissed her temple. "He's upset because he won't be able to ride on your coattails any more. He probably won't last a month."

  He rested his backside against her desk and pulled her into the space between his legs. His kiss reminded her of everything they'd shared that glorious night, which with luck, would soon be repeated.

  As if sensing her distraction, he lifted his head and said, "You aren't really worried about Gramps's business being able to support us, are you? I talked to my accountant this week, and he said all my investments have done extremely well. I promise you, we won't go hungry. And Zoey's health insurance won't be a problem."

 

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