Winning his Heart

by Lara Van Hulzen

  She thought of that day Mike had helped her move her mom into May Bell House. Maybe it wasn’t worth falling head over heels for someone if she was going to get old and forget it all anyway. Since leaving the St. Claires’ that night, she’d rattled around in her head all the reasons Mike could’ve turned on her the way he did. Her best conclusion was he didn’t deem it worth the risk either. He’d loved and lost. In some backward form of self-preservation, he was most likely ending things before they got going too far and both parties ended up hurt. Funny though. Her heart was torn in two so she hadn’t been spared any pain. Maybe he had. It was likely he’d not shed a tear over it.

  Jerk.

  She shook her head. Everything in her wanted to hate him, but she couldn’t. Angry with him, yes. But bitter? No. He’d probably done them both a favor.

  She’d gone to May Bell House and talked to her mom, told her about her trip. Her mother was thrilled for her, the most excited of anyone else in her life. Which had made it even tougher for her to start packing. She didn’t want to be that far from her mom. But now? Now, whether she got the part or not, she wanted to say she did it, make her mother proud.

  With a deep breath in and back out again, she swallowed tears that threatened to fall and stood. “You’re gonna do this, Stone. It’s all you’ve got.”

  “I don’t think that’s true.”

  She whirled around to find Noelle in the doorway of her bedroom.

  “I knocked, but you didn’t hear me, so I let myself in.”

  “Hey! Sorry. I was just...thinking.” Franchesca zipped up her suitcase. “Thanks for giving me a ride.”

  “Of course.”

  Her head popped up and she stared at her friend. “Wes isn’t with you, is he?” Not that she had anything against Wes, but seeing Mike’s brother right now would twist her emotions up worse than they already were.

  “No. Just you and me.” Noelle smiled. “And Wilson.”

  Wilson was the St. Claires’ driver. Franchesca still wasn’t used to her friend being carted around town with a chauffeur. Noelle drove her own car as much as possible, but catered to her protective husband and let Wilson drive her from time to time.

  “You’re not alone in this.” Noelle leaned against the doorjamb.

  Franchesca scoffed.

  “You’re not. Holly gave me some good advice when I hesitated about me and Wes and now I’m going to pass it on to you. I know how independent you are, Franchesca. We all do. But having someone care for you doesn’t take that away.”

  Franchesca put her hands on her hips and glared at her friend. “You’ve lost me, here. In case you haven’t been informed, he was the one who called things off. He doesn’t want to care for me. This has nothing to do with how independent I am.”

  “Yeah, but I know you. You’re sitting here thinking of all the reasons this happened, telling yourself you’re better off on your own.”

  Good Lord. Was the woman a mind reader? She grabbed a lip gloss off her nightstand and chucked it into her purse before she zipped it up and placed it next to her suitcase. “I am better off on my own. Which is something Michael St. Claire seems to agree with. So... again, I’m missing your point.”

  “It’s not you, Franchesca.”

  “Still lost here. And for the record, you sort of suck at cheering me up.”

  Noelle moved into the room and sat on the bed. “I make no excuses whatsoever for how Mike treated you, the things he said. He was a first-rate jerk, for sure.”

  “That’s the first thing you’ve said that makes sense. And that I agree with.”

  “But he’s scared.”

  “I know. Scared of losing someone again. Scared I’ll bolt on him at the first sign of trouble because of my ‘independence.’” She made air quotes with her fingers as she spoke. “But he bolted first.”

  Noelle looked at her hands folded in her lap. “I know.” She shook her head. “Gosh. I’m not saying any of this right, Franchesca.” She took one of Franchesca’s hands in her own. “You are my best friend. I love you like a sister. And I love Mike like a brother. There’s nothing more I would rather have happened than see you two together.”

  Her ire toward her friend softened. Noelle meant well. The whole thing was a mess, and by no means her fault. “I wanted that, too. But he doesn’t. The sooner I accept that, the better.”

  “That’s just it. I think he wants it, too. He’s miserable.”

  Franchesca hated to admit it, but part of her was glad to hear that.

  “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this, but he’s been an absolute bear. He’s barely coming out of his suite, but when he does, he’s pretty grumpy. He cheers up for Annalise but that’s to save face. He doesn’t want her upset.”

  Franchesca moved her suitcase aside and sat next to Noelle. Not a day had gone by that she hadn’t thought of Annalise and how much she missed her, too. “Does she understand why I haven’t been there?”

  “Mike told her you were taking some time off.” Noelle shrugged. “I’m not sure his plan past that. He has another race coming up and the family is stepping up to watch her, but...we all really miss you.”

  Franchesca hugged her friend. “Me, too.”

  “You’re not alone,” Noelle said again, one hand rubbing Franchesca’s back.

  “I know. You’re like a sister to me, too. I’m sorry for being a grouch.” She pulled back and looked at her friend.

  “You’re not. And if so, you have every right to be.”

  She stood and settled her purse on her shoulder. “Well, one thing my dad taught me was not to focus on the things I can’t control. What I can control is that I have a flight to New York and an audition to prepare for. Past that, time will tell.”

  Mike stared out the window of the family room in his suite. He never tired of the plush green hillsides and blue of the summer sky. He’d loved living in New York with Anna. They’d had a happy life. But since moving to Montana with Annalise, something in him had settled. The slower pace and small-town life suited him. He’d told a friend on his racing team that when asked how he was doing, and the guy had pointed out to him the vast difference between that and racing.

  Maybe that was why he liked it. The racing world was loud and fast. Home for him was calm. Peaceful. Well, it had been anyway. Until a dark-haired beauty entered his life and turned it upside down and sideways.

  His heart had all but torn from his chest the day she’d said she wanted to go to New York. New York was his past; Marietta was his future. And he thought he’d found someone to share it with. But he couldn’t fight the glimmer in her eyes when she talked of going. He also couldn’t disagree with her not wanting to spend the rest of her life wondering if she could have made it. She had to go. Of course she did.

  But his mind wouldn’t rest. If she were willing to leave and even have a long-distance relationship, what would keep her from someday walking out of his life for good? He didn’t want to compete with her love of the stage. It wasn’t fair to ask that of her anyway. And long distance wouldn’t work. Not with Annalise. He was gone from her enough already. Annalise was settled in Marietta. And so was he.

  He’d gone to his race battling the knot in his gut. Fear crept its way back in to prod at him, telling him it wasn’t worth it. It was best to cut things loose now. Then he’d heard of how sick Annalise was and he was consumed with getting home as fast as possible. Yes, he’d been mad that Franchesca hadn’t told him, but deep down he’d known the truth. Although he hated to admit it, they’d been right. They had it handled and he was able to focus on his race and get safely home. And yet, he’d used it as an excuse to push her away.

  His dad had said not to clip her wings. Wasn’t letting her go the same as giving her wings? He’d thought so, but now he wasn’t so sure. He rubbed his chest where his heart ached. He hadn’t saved it from hurt in any way. And the look Franchesca had given him the night she left haunted him. He hadn’t set her free, he’d hurt her. And it was killing him to
know that.

  Noelle was taking her to the airport, then Franchesca would use the family plane to fly out of his life. He ran a hand down his face. How had it all gone so bad, so fast? It was like the high of racing followed by the split second moment where the smallest thing goes wrong and...boom! A crash. A wall in your face and you’re clueless as to how quickly things spun out of control.

  Why did he ever think falling in love again was a good idea? He had been fine with things the way they were. It was him and Annalise against the world. They were coming out of the fog of Anna’s death and into clear skies again. Why couldn’t he have left things well enough alone?

  They’d survive. His mind kept telling him that, but his heart refused to believe it.

  “Daddy. Can you brush my hair?”

  Mike turned to see Annalise enter the room, fresh from a bath. Glenna followed behind. Dressed in a fluffy blue bathrobe with little pictures of Olaf all over it, his daughter was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Having fallen in love with the movie Frozen, everything she owned was decorated by the characters.

  “She’s had her bath, Michael. I’ll be down the hall if you need me.” Glenna nodded at him then left.

  It was no secret the family was pissed at him for how he’d treated Franchesca. Hell, he was pissed with himself. Not proud of his delivery, he still deemed it the best possible action for him and Annalise. He rubbed at his chest again. This heartache might be the end of him, but he had to put his daughter first.

  “Come here, sweets.” He sat on the couch. Annalise climbed into his lap. Her long, blond hair wet against her back.

  “Here’s my favorite brush.” She placed a small round brush in his hand, complete with a picture of Princess Anna on the back. “I would love to be Princess Anna, but with my hair, I think it’s best I be Princess Elsa. Our hairs are more the same color.”

  She informed him of this every time he brushed her hair, but he agreed as always. He doubted a man his age had seen that movie as many times as he had. And he’d loved every minute of it because each time, Annalise would curl up in his lap and sing along to every song.

  There was nothing better in his opinion than a child straight out of the bath. The smell of baby soap and coconut shampoo would forever live in his mind as his favorite scents.

  “I think all princesses use the same shampoo, Daddy. Franchesca said so.”

  The sound of Franchesca’s name made his body tense. He’d told Annalise she was taking some time off, but had no idea what he would say once Annalise noticed Franchesca wasn’t coming over anymore.

  “Oh, yeah?” His voice cracked, unsure of where his daughter was going with this conversation.

  “Yes. Franchesca uses the same coconut shampoo as me. She said it’s because of the bottle. We princesses are smart like that.”

  Mike swallowed hard. Yes. Franchesca’s hair smelled of coconut just like his daughter’s. That made him think of those curls he couldn’t keep his hands off. And of course they used the same kind because the bottle was shaped like a coconut. And Franchesca had treated Annalise as if she were her own, watching her while he traveled and staying with her every minute she’d been sick.

  “I love Franchesca. Don’t you, Daddy? She’s my favorite.” Annalise turned to look at him then settled once again facing forward. He ran the brush through her silky hair.

  Out of the mouths of babes.

  His stomach churned. Had he really done the right thing?

  Chapter Twenty

  Mike ran on the treadmill, his legs pumping, muscles burning. It had been less than 36 hours since Franchesca had left for New York and he’d spent most of that time in the gym. Blowing off steam, thinking through everything, second guessing his whole life...all reasons to run until he was exhausted or lift weights until his arms felt like they’d fall off. Anything to get him through the remaining hours before he left for his race in Detroit.

  After Annalise had said how much she loved Franchesca, he was more confused than ever. He’d let a woman into his life, as well as his daughter’s, and although he wanted to beat himself up for that, he couldn’t. They’d both fallen for Franchesca and she had fallen for them. He struggled to figure out exactly when things had gone so wrong.

  “You gonna run until you puke or pass out? Both of which I’d be entertained to see.”

  Mike ignored his brother who’d come into the gym without him noticing. Wes stepped onto the treadmill beside Mike’s and pushed the start button. The belt moved, slow enough to mimic the pace of a slow stroll through the park on a sunny afternoon.

  “Not in the mood to talk?” Wes nodded. “That’s cool. I can do all the talking.”

  Mike groaned. Just what he needed. Wes harping about what an idiot he was.

  “You’re an idiot, you know that, right?”

  Again, Mike chose not to respond. His feet pounded on the treadmill belt in a steady rhythm, the sound keeping him from focusing on his brother.

  “She’s perfect for you. And Annalise.” Wes continued to walk, making it clear he hadn’t entered the gym to do a workout, but rather bother Mike about his love life, or lack thereof.

  “It wasn’t that long ago you came in here to get in my face about what an idiot I was for almost letting Noelle slip away.”

  “That was different.” Mike’s words came out in puffs, his breath labored from running.

  “Oh yeah? How’s that? I almost let some misunderstanding get between me and Noelle. You’re letting your stubbornness blind you from what’s best for you and Annalise.”

  Mike punched the red stop button on his treadmill, so he could stand and face his brother. “And you know what’s best for us?” He grabbed a towel that hung over the side of the treadmill, wiped his face, then waved it at his brother. “You think you know what’s best for all of us all the time, right?” He shook his head. “For crying out loud, Wes. I’m over 30. I have a child. What makes you think I don’t know what’s best for myself and for her?”

  His brother faced him, not backing down but rather stepping forward. He’d stopped his treadmill as well. “Because you think that never loving again will keep you from hurting.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “How’s that working out for ya?”

  Mike growled and stepped off the treadmill. He plopped down onto a weight bench nearby.

  Wes turned and faced him. “Be as surly as you want with me, but you know I’m right.”

  “Since when did you become the love expert?”

  “Never said I was any expert.” Wes shook his head. “But you stood in here not long ago telling me to get past my own stupidity and go after Noelle before I lost the best thing to ever come into my life.”

  “I’m beginning to regret it.”

  Wes came down off his treadmill and sat on another weight bench. “You came in here and told me how crazy you were when you fell in love with Anna.”

  Mike waited for the sense of betrayal to come for having feelings for someone other than Anna. They didn’t come. Instead, happy memories filled his mind, moments he would cherish forever, but were part of his past.

  “You told me that’s how you knew I was in love with Noelle. I was a mess. She had me so damn confused I was in here until I could hardly lift a finger, let alone any weight. Upside down and sideways, man. That’s how you know.” He placed a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Franchesca is good for you. She’s in love with you, for whatever reason.”

  Mike laughed at his brother’s teasing.

  “And she’s great with Annalise. You couldn’t ask for more than that, could you?”

  Mike wrapped the towel around his neck and leaned his elbows on his knees. He hated when his brother was right. Any of his siblings, really.

  Wes leaned forward as well. “I know you were upset about us not telling you that Annalise was sick. But Dad and I made that decision.”

  “I know. Dad told me.”

  Wes nodded. “Franchesca was like a mama bear. She sat
in that room the entire time.”

  “Dad told me that, too.”

  “You’ve gotta go get her, man.”

  Mike hung his head, the truth of his brother’s words weighing on him. Wes hadn’t seen the look in Franchesca’s eyes when she’d turned to leave. This wasn’t a woman who would come running back into his arms without punching him first. Something he deserved, but still.

  “I have my race.”

  “I know.”

  “And I need a grand gesture. This can’t just be flowers and an ‘I’m sorry.’” Mike looked at his brother.

  “I know that, too. We’ll figure something out.” He patted Mike on the back. “You’ll get home around the same time she comes back from New York. We’ll have your grand gesture planned by then.”

  Mike laughed and shook his head. “I never, ever, pegged you for the romantic.”

  Wes shrugged. “I never was. But as you so wisely told me not long ago, love changes you.”

  It sure did. A few months ago Mike thought his life would consist of mostly playdates and learning how to do a better French braid. Franchesca had changed that. She’d changed everything. He wanted more. He wanted nights by the fire talking and laughing and whatever else might happen. He wanted to see Franchesca perform on stage, to applaud the loudest when the curtain fell. He wanted them to be a family.

  All he needed was a hell of an apology and hope that would be enough to make it happen.

  Franchesca sat in the back of the large theater. She’d done it. She’d had an audition for a Broadway play. The biggest one she’d ever had. Not one to be nervous, she’d almost passed out hours before when the director called her name to come onstage. Standing backstage with the other actresses, she’d taken deep breaths and gone for it, but as she stepped into the spotlight, the sense of coming home, of being right where she belonged never came.