Cathy Mcdavid - The Cowboy's Twin Surprise

This time of year, mornings were cool enough to be outdoors. Within a few hours, however, the temperature would soar to the mideighties.

“As you can see,” Frankie said, “things are mostly the same.” At least walking provided an outlet for her nervous energy.

“I see the feed store has changed hands.”

“The owner sold the store after his assistant manager was involved in a series of horse thefts around the valley.”

“And your sister Mel helped catch the thieves. She’s marrying the deputy who headed up their capture, right?”

“She tell you that yesterday?”

“Actually, I heard about it last month when I was passing through town.”

“Why didn’t you contact me?”

“The timing wasn’t right.”

Was it because he finally had money? Frankie had never cared that Spence wasn’t wealthy. She’d grown up in a modest home, but one filled with love. Though she’d lost her mother at a young age, her father had done his best to ensure his daughters’ happiness. She knew there were more important things in life than having a fat bank account.

They crossed the street at the corner and headed down the next block.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked. “And for the record, I wasn’t late.”

No, he’d been early. “My catering business. I’m not sure you know, but a ten thousand dollar contribution entitles you to a 10 percent ownership and a share of the profits.”

“Sounds a little like my arrangement with Han Dover Fist. I own 15 percent of him and get a share of the profits.”

“Do you have a say in his management?” Frankie was genuinely curious.

“Not anymore. He’s retired from the track and living the life of a king at Cottonwood Farms. Quit a winner—that was my boss’s philosophy.” Spence indicated a group of boisterous riders tying their horses to a hitching rail beside the Poco Dinero Bar and Grill. “I see that practice hasn’t changed.”

“And likely never will as long as we’re a ranching community.”

At the next corner, Spence asked, “What are your plans for the catering business? Mel and Ronnie mentioned you’re just doing side jobs right now.”

It was a reasonable question, especially from a potential investor. Besides, Frankie would rather talk about her business than the girls.

“I’d like to buy a smoker. Commercial grade, I should say. All I have now are two small ones. More chafing dishes. And warming boxes to transport food. Then there’s advertising and promotion.”

For the next five minutes, she outlined her ideas. Spence made several intelligent comments that had her contemplating her answers.

“Sounds good,” he remarked when she was done.

“How involved would you expect to be?”

“Are you asking if I intend to stick around?” He flashed her the same happy grin he’d used back when they were dating, to lighten her mood or ease her worries.

“Honestly? Yes.” She kept her voice level.

His response was more important to her than she cared to admit.

“I suppose it depends a lot on you.”

“Me?” She stopped to look at him.

They stood in front of the auto parts store, with its slight smell of oil and flashing neon sign, lit even during the day. Not the most romantic setting.

“I’d like to stick around, Frankie. Mustang Valley is a good place for me to start my racing quarter horse farm.”

“You said yesterday you wanted another chance with me.”

“There’s that, too.”

They began walking again. “Not that it’s any of my business,” she said, finally giving in to her curiosity, “but have you met anyone these past four years?”

“I’ve dated a couple gals. Nothing serious.” He chuckled, with more nervousness than humor. “I had a lot of trouble getting over you, Francine Hartman.”

Then why didn’t you come back? Her life, and that of her daughters, might now be entirely different.

“Let me rephrase,” he said. “No one’s compared to you.”

“I see.” She shouldn’t be happy. And she wasn’t.

Fine, fine. She was a little happy. She’d pined over him, too.

“What about you?” he asked. “Anybody special?”

“I know for a fact my sisters told you I’m single.” Damn them, she thought.

Spence smiled sheepishly. “I just wanted to hear it from you.”

She resisted. For two seconds. “I’ve dated, too. Nothing serious,” she added, echoing him.

“Why not? You’re a catch.”

Frankie hesitated. She couldn’t tell him she’d been too busy working and raising their daughters to give much thought to dating. Or that most single men weren’t interested in a ready-made family.

“Lately, I’ve been busy trying to get my catering business off the ground.”

“Nice pat answer. What’s the real reason?”

Okay. He asked for it. “It’s been hard for me to trust anyone again after you.”

“Would it make a difference if I told you I wasn’t the guy for you at the time, and that I was trying for a clean break? Much as I loved you, and I did, I couldn’t bring myself to settle down and have that family you wanted.”

“And now you’re different?”

“Yes, I am.” His confidence returned. “You can trust me.”

She wasn’t entirely swayed. But he had gone out on a limb to admit the truth to her, and that took courage.

“I have a short shift at the café. Come by my house tonight. Seven thirty.”

His eyes sparked. “To talk business?”

“No.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

She felt suddenly uncomfortable. “We’d better get back. My shift starts soon.”

At the entrance to the café, he took her hand again. Only rather than hold it, he brought her palm to his cheek. The bristles of his day-old beard tickled her skin. “I meant what I said about staying. Give me a reason, Frankie, and I’m here for good.”

She could do that, give him a reason. And throw him for a heck of a loop in the process.

“We’ll talk more tonight.” Her hand fell away from his face. “Goodbye, Spence.” Hurrying inside, she quickly changed into her uniform, her fumbling fingers struggling with the zipper.

She didn’t have much time. For all she knew, Eddie or someone else had already mentioned her girls, and Spence was biding his time, waiting for her to confess or to call her out on her unforgivable lie.

Just breathe. In and out.

Frankie stopped in the doorway and fought to slow her racing heart. The moment she’d been dreading for years had at long last arrived. No amount of panicking would delay it.

* * *

IT HAD TAKEN every ounce of Spence’s willpower not to follow Frankie inside the café earlier. He’d told her he wanted to stay in Mustang Valley, which in his mind amounted to admitting he still cared. Her response had been to stare blankly at him, and then suggest they get back.

Okay, he was man enough to admit that stung. Then again, she hadn’t given him the boot. And she’d invited him to her house. He’d been contemplating the endless possibilities for hours.

Contrary to what he’d implied, his buddy Eddie had divulged very little about Frankie. Not that Spence had asked. He hadn’t wanted to appear interested, which, of course, he was.

The house he pulled up in front of was in the new residential section of Mustang Valley, built less than a mile from the park and center of town. With its stucco siding and Santa Fe styling, he thought the home exactly the type Frankie would have picked. Someday, when she finally had that family she wanted. But now?

While far from huge, it did seem a lot for one person, especially with its spacious backyard and modest horse setup. That part struck Spence as odd, seeing as Frankie wasn’t much into horses and livestock like the rest of her family, other than as a spectator. But, then again, most people in Mustang Valley owned horses, and most houses came with a horse setup.