The Texas SEAL's Surprise--A Clean Romance

by Cari Lynn Webb

  He sighed and handed her the tissues he’d swiped from the box Ilene kept behind the bar.

  She flicked her wrist at him. “Go away, and let me enjoy the rest of the movie on my own terms.”

  “It’s making you cry.” Wes couldn’t stand it. He wanted to rub the tears from her cheeks. Kiss her until she forgot the mayor’s criticism. Until she laughed again. Kiss her until he forgot all the reasons he shouldn’t. “I’d hardly call that enjoyable.”

  “It’s touching.” She waved the tissue in her hand and sniffed again. “And heartfelt and reaffirming and uplifting. Magical.”

  There would be magic in their kiss. He knew it deep inside him. It wasn’t the place or the time to test that theory. He grabbed her hand and tugged her along with him. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?” She stumbled after him.

  “To win this dance hat thing you organized.” He swung her onto the middle of the dance floor and twirled her into his arms. Right where he’d wanted her the entire night. Since the moment she’d walked inside the bar, soaking wet, shivering and fearless.

  “Wait.” Her palms flattened against his chest. “You dance?”

  “Can you keep up?” He grinned and finally relaxed. Everything suddenly seemed right in the world. “Or do I need to find another partner that won’t step on my toes?”

  Her arms curved up and linked around his neck. “Lead on.”

  He spun them around. She never faltered. The song changed, and the dance shifted into a Texas two-step. They danced as if they were one. As if they’d been dancing together for years, not minutes. In tune and in step. Their gazes remained locked on each other.

  Her smile returned, growing wider and more brilliant with every turn. Every shuffle. No one else but Abby mattered. And Wes could’ve danced the rest of the evening with Abby. The song ended. Wes caught his breath and pulled Abby closer.

  Just then—in the seconds before his lips captured hers—a cowboy hat landed on his head. Another dropped onto Abby’s. She threw her head back and laughed. Tess declared Abby and Wes the King and Queen of the Dance Floor to the crowd’s delight.

  Wes took Abby’s hand and led her to the bar. Ilene set a full water glass in front of each of them. Wes returned to his bartending duties. Once again safely distanced from Abby.

  Abby dropped onto the bar stool beside Boone and patted her forehead. “I forgot what a workout dancing is.”

  “It’s only good with the right partner.” Boone tipped his soda glass toward Wes. “The right partner makes all the difference in life.”

  It was one dance. Not the start of a lifetime. Fortunately, those cowboy hats had arrived at the perfect time. Wes had almost kissed Abby. On the dance floor. In front of pretty much the entire town. She tempted him. Tempted him to reconsider everything he wanted. Tempted him to believe that she could be his. That he could be right for her. But he wasn’t made for falling for someone. And one dance wouldn’t fix that.

  The movie ended, and the families headed home, carrying sleeping kids and encouraging tired teenagers. The dining room was set to rights and the screen dismantled. The bar crowd shifted to its twenty-one-and-older clientele. Wes kept to his duties and his promise to himself to keep his distance from Abby. Abby walked her cousin home only to return and insist she intended to stay until closing and help Wes clean up. No amount of arguing changed her mind.

  Well after midnight, Ilene finished the final tidying of the bar, and Nolan completed his check on the kitchen and the pair departed. Boone accepted Nolan’s offer of a ride home, leaving Wes alone with Abby and one rainbow-ribbon-bedecked mechanical bull.

  “I’ve never been inside a bar after it closes.” Abby picked up several horseshoes, walked to the line and tossed one at the pole. “It’s sort of nice.”

  “I don’t mind it.” He took a horseshoe from her and threw it underhand. And he really didn’t mind finally having Abby all to himself. He should tell her to go home and get some sleep. He should do the same. He tossed another horseshoe instead.

  “What did Boone mean when he told you that when you buy him out, you can make the decisions on what this place is?” Abby picked up the horseshoes and waited for him to join her.

  “Exactly that.” Wes took a horseshoe and tossed it. The horseshoe hit the metal stake in a perfect ringer. If only sticking to his plan to build his future and legacy in Colorado was as easy as a horseshoe throw. He knew what he wanted. Yet every time he looked at Abby, he lost his focus. “Boone wants me to buy him out of the Owl.”

  “You don’t want it?” Abby held onto her horseshoes and studied him.

  “It’s not that.” Wes’s hands fumbled at his sides as he fumbled for an explanation. It had all been so simple before he met Abby. So straightforward. Now everything was complicated. “This bar was supposed to be his grandson’s legacy, not mine.”

  “But Boone lost his grandson. And you’re here now.” Understanding and sympathy underlay Abby’s words. “Boone is so proud of you. He loves you like his own. You see that, don’t you?”

  Wes was proud of what he’d done to build the bar and ensure its longevity. He’d done all that for Boone. He owed Boone for giving him a place to stay and a job. He cared about the man too. How could he not? But he had a duty to his family, to honor his mother.

  Wes walked toward the opposite horseshoe stake. “There’s more to it. I told you I want to find my brother, but not the why.”

  “He’s your family.” She joined him and stopped near the metal stake. “That seems reason enough to want to find him.”

  “He was family.” Wes picked up the horseshoes and returned them to the storage bin. “Until Dylan sold the family ranch and the land it’s on when he learned my mom’s cancer was terminal.”

  “Did he need to pay your mother’s medical bills?” Abby asked.

  Always looking for the positive side. That was his Abby. Wes closed the lid on the bin and tried to close his jumbled emotions inside too. “No. Dylan disappeared with all the profits from the sale. Left my mother in an inpatient facility and me with the medical bills.”

  He glanced at Abby. Saw her searching for the good in the heavy silence. “There’s no upside, Abby. Dylan stole my part of our inheritance and left our mother to suffer alone.”

  “There has to be a reason,” Abby argued.

  “Not one that I can find.” Wes headed toward the dining room and cut the lights. “And believe me, I’ve been looking.”

  “What happens when you find him?” she asked.

  “I get my inheritance back.”

  “But not your brother.” Her tone was all the more sharp in the dim room.

  “I’m not built like you, Abby.” It was a reminder he needed. One he should heed. Abby deserved better than him. “I’m not made for forgiveness and happily-ever-afters.”

  “You can deal with all that once you find your brother.” She grabbed his hand and linked her fingers with his. Natural and easy as if in that one simple connection she’d filled all the empty spaces inside him. She continued. “When the time is right, you’ll know what to do.”

  It was time to tell Abby good-night. Time to go their separate ways. End the evening as friends. But he was selfish. He should’ve warned her. “Come on. I’ll show you where I like to be on a rainy night after the bar closes.”

  He took her out onto the patio, turned on the gas fireplace and grabbed several blankets from the cabinet on the wall. He dropped the blankets on the nearest couch and motioned for her to sit. He joined her and stretched out his legs, setting his boots on the stone fireplace frame. Rain fell in a steady rhythm around them. The fire cast the softest glow.

  Abby unbuckled her sandals and eased her bare feet under the blanket. “This is peaceful.”

  “I like the silence after a busy night.” And he liked sharing it with Abby. Liked that with her, he fe
lt less alone. “The quiet gives me a chance to collect my thoughts.”

  “I could fall asleep out here,” Abby admitted. “Except my thoughts are going to keep me awake all night, I fear.”

  Wes dropped his arm across the back of the couch and shifted to face her. “The evening couldn’t have been a bigger success. And you were responsible for it all.”

  “I’m also responsible for telling the mayor that I’d find the missing Herring Gang treasure.” Abby pressed her face into the blanket and groaned. “It was the mayor, of all people.”

  “But you believe in the treasure.” He liked that too. That she believed in the improbable. Made him want to believe too.

  “Of course.” Abby lifted her head. “It’s real. I know that. And I also know it won’t be found for Labor Day weekend. And the mayor knows that.”

  “And he made clear that another family movie night won’t cut it.” Wes scratched his cheek.

  “Exactly.” Abby smoothed her hand over the blanket and rested it on top of her stomach. “Wes, what if I can’t come up with something? What if I fail at this job like all the others? Am I going to fail at being a mother too?”

  The fear in her whispered words pierced Wes. The tears gathering in her eyes gutted him. He took her hand, half tugged her and half scooted himself until she was curled into his side. He wrapped his arm around her. “Abby, you should’ve seen yourself with those kids tonight. There wasn’t a kid in the entire place who didn’t want to be near you. You lit up the room, and they responded. Don’t ever doubt what kind of mom you’re going to be. You’re going to be the kind every kid wants. The mom every kid wishes he had.”

  “How can you be so certain?” she asked. Her fingers tightened around his.

  Because he’d seen her heart. Because she was the mom he’d want for his own children. He tucked those truths away and concentrated on her. “You just have to believe me.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. Tears trailed down her cheeks. “I just wanted to do something special. Something worth remembering.”

  The kids wouldn’t soon forget the night. As for Wes, Abby was too special to ever forget. And that he’d have to deal with. But right now, he had her in his arms, and he had this one moment. “You did exactly that tonight. And you’ll do it again for Labor Day weekend.”

  “You’re not going to let me wallow in my fear, are you?” She sniffed.

  “No.” He reached up and brushed the tears from her cheek. He wasn’t going to give in to his own fears either. “It’s not the way to end a practically perfect night.”

  A sliver of a smile worked across her mouth. “Is there a right way to end this practically perfect night?”

  “I can think of only one.” He curved his hand around to the back of her neck and leaned in. She met him halfway. He captured her lips beneath his own for one practically perfect kiss.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  WES TURNED ONTO the long dirt road leading to Boone’s property. He’d intended a quick trip to Country Time Farm & Ranch Supply, but it had turned into something more leisurely. Wes had been stopped in each aisle of the supply store to chat about everything from last night’s dance-off to the Owl’s specials to newly learned watering techniques for pastures and farmland.

  Mostly everyone, including the cashiers, had wanted to discuss possible topics for the evening’s trivia night. The competition, it seemed, was on, and teams were deep into strategizing mode.

  Wes checked the sun in the sky. Not a single cloud lingered from last night’s storms. Not that he had any complaints. He’d spent most of the rainy night on the couch next to Abby. When the rain had finally slowed, he’d walked her back to her apartment, lingered over another good-night kiss and returned to his own bed alone. For the first time in years, he’d slept peacefully until sunrise.

  Now, the Saturday lunch hour had passed, and Wes couldn’t find his irritation at being behind schedule. He also couldn’t remove his smile. That he blamed on Abby, and he grinned even more. She’d promised to come help host trivia night with him. He’d have to be quick repairing the broken gutters on the barn and repairing two pasture gates. Then Boone and he would be back on track and make it to the bar on time. Wes hummed in tune with the song on the radio.

  His truck hit a rut in the road and disrupted his sing-along. The ruts were an aftereffect from last night’s storms and one more thing to add to his to-do list. He rounded the corner, lost his smile and stepped on the gas. Dan stood outside the pasture gate. In the driveway. His large ears back. His head tossing from side to side. Boone’s UTV was inside the pasture.

  Wes slammed the truck into Park, cut the engine and jumped out. He checked Dan and sprinted toward the UTV. Boone was in the driver’s seat, slumped over the steering wheel. Wes curbed his panicked shout and reined in his alarm. Allowed himself one touch to Boone’s shoulder. “Boone. You okay?”

  Boone clutched the steering wheel. Sweat beaded across his forehead. “Got some pain in my chest.”

  He had more than some pain. His skin was pale and damp. His words barely reached the level of a breathless pant. Wes pulled out his cell phone and dialed 9-1-1.

  Boone shook his head and sagged backward in the seat. “Nothing to fuss over.”

  It was everything to fuss over. Wes greeted Margot McKee, the town’s resident EMT, and requested an ambulance. Margot relayed instructions and told Wes to remain calm: help was on its way.

  “Take me into the house,” Boone whispered. “It’ll pass.”

  The hospital was Boone’s destination. Wes kept his hand on Boone’s shoulder to reassure himself or the old cowboy, he wasn’t sure. “Rest, Boone. Help is coming.”

  “I got you,” Boone wheezed. “Don’t need no one else.”

  And Wes needed Boone. More panic and fear rolled through Wes. He glanced at his watch. Time seemed to have stood still. It felt like hours since he’d talked to Margot, like days before he heard the siren racing up the dirt road to Boone’s place.

  Margot leaped from the passenger seat of the old-model ambulance and raced to Boone’s side. “Kellie Pratt is driving us, Boone. She’s the best there is.”

  That was the end of any conversation. The two women worked in tandem: kits were opened, vitals registered, medical jargon tossed out. Margot never glanced at Wes. And Wes knew, deep inside him, it was serious. It wasn’t passing. And every minute mattered.

  With the IV started and Boone secured on the gurney, the women loaded him into the ambulance. Margot climbed into the back with Boone. Kellie shut the door and rushed to the driver’s seat, then hollered, “Follow us, Wes. Belleridge Regional Hospital.”

  The lights began flashing, and the ambulance headed out to the main road. Dan nickered in the quiet of the fading noise and snapped Wes into action. He pulled the UTV from the pasture, then guided Dan inside and offered the horse a few calming words. The pasture gate would need to be repaired, but he rigged a temporary lock and climbed back into his truck.

  Phone in hand, he pressed Abby’s name on his contact list. He didn’t have time for a greeting and hurdled into his world-tilting news. “I’m headed to the hospital in Belleridge.”

  “The hospital.” Abby’s worry scratched across the speaker. “What happened?”

  “It’s Boone.” Wes cleared his throat. He stepped on the gas as if it was the speed limit disturbing his equilibrium, not the worry spearing through him. “He’s in the ambulance. I’m pretty sure it’s his heart.”

  “What can I do?” Abby’s voice was clear. Calm. Composed.

  Everything he wanted to be. Everything he needed to be for Boone. Wes flexed his fingers around the steering wheel.

  Abby, promise me Boone is going to be fine. Tell me I’ll be fine. Wes couldn’t lose Boone. Not like this. First Jake. Then his mom. Not Boone too.

  “Wes.” Abby’s steady voice steadied him. “I’m here. I ca
n meet you at the hospital. Whatever you need.”

  Yes. Can I lean on you? Just until I get my legs back under me. It won’t be long. Maybe a moment. Maybe a lifetime. Wes worked his clenched jaw loose. “It’s trivia night. We can’t cancel.”

  Especially now. There would be medical bills to pay. Expenses they hadn’t budgeted for. None of it mattered. Boone making it through mattered.

  “I can run things for you.” Abby never hesitated.

  I can’t ask you to. I shouldn’t be relying on you. But I’m lonely. Lost. “Are you sure?” His words sounded as if they’d been scraped over rough rocks.

  “Yes. I’ve got this.” Again, no hesitation. And perhaps a hint of irritation at his needing her to repeat her answer. She added, “Concentrate on Boone.”

  Abby, I’m scared. “I owe you.”

  “No.” Her resolve sounded so clear. “This is what friends do for each other.”

  And if we’re more than friends, what happens then? “I’ll call you when I know something.”

  “Wes,” Abby said, “Boone is going to be okay.”

  No promise. No vow. Simple straightforward confidence as if there was no other option. But was Wes going to be okay? One last throat-clearing, and he pushed out a weak “Thanks.”

  Wes pressed the End Call button and white-knuckled the rest of the drive to Belleridge Regional Hospital. The emergency room was a series of blood draws, EKGs and IVs. Monitors beeped. Codes were announced over the PA system. And Wes paced. He paced every single inch of the waiting room.

  Then Boone was loaded into a different, more robust ambulance for immediate transfer to the cardiac unit in the city hospital. Wes caught the words: Major. Heart attack. Blockage. Arrhythmias. Surgery.

  He managed to shake the ER doctor’s hand. Felt the physician’s encouraging squeeze on his shoulder. Heard his assurance that the doctors at Northwest Plains Medical Center were some of the best in the state.

  Numb, Wes drove to the next hospital. Found himself in another sterile waiting room. But his continuous pacing failed to burn the chill away. He was cold all the way to his core. Had he ever been this cold?