The Cowboy's Twin Surprise

by Cathy McDavid

“Really?”

  “Cara’s going to help you prep the meat, then leave. Miguel will come over when he’s off work and can stay till morning.”

  “Miguel?” The cook from the Cowboy Up Café. “You called him?”

  “He called me and offered to help. Said he and some of the other employees owe you a heap of favors. You’ve been taking heat from the new manager that should have been directed at them.”

  “I’m not sure I agree with that.”

  “Hey, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

  Something puzzled Frankie. “How did he know I needed help?”

  “Spence told him. Guess he stopped by the café for dinner.”

  “Oh. That was...nice of him.”

  “None of my business, hon,” her dad said, “but I’m pretty sure Spence would also help if you asked.”

  “Probably,” she agreed. “Only I’m not calling him. Not now. Tomorrow, maybe.” Anything else she planned to say was delayed by the ringing of her doorbell. “Gotta go, Dad. Someone’s here.”

  She hurried to the living room, skirting the barking dogs. For a wild second, she wondered if Spence had returned. He hadn’t, of course. Why would he, after she’d pretty much thrown him out?

  Plastering a smile on her face, she greeted Cara and Jake, opening the door wide to let them and their two young children inside. “I haven’t had time to tell the girls yet. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled.”

  Cara laughed. “Even though Paige is still mad at Nathan, and Kimberly threw up on her?”

  “Probably shouldn’t mention those things.”

  By making the night away sound more like a slumber party than a reason to get the twins out of the house, Frankie was able to convince them to go along with the plan. They were just loading all the kids and toys and bags, and food containers Frankie insisted they take, when Reese and Gabe arrived. Jake stayed to help, he and Gabe quickly carrying in the half-dozen ice chests containing meat.

  “Love you both.” Frankie waved goodbye to the twins. “Be good.” She couldn’t help noticing Nathan staring longingly at Paige. The little girl didn’t appear immune to him, either, though she was being coy.

  Kids. If only adult love was that simple and the bumps as easy to overcome, Spence might be here now.

  Frankie stomped back to the kitchen, her teeth clenched. She was mad. She was hurt. She was incredibly overwhelmed. Thank goodness she had until two o’clock tomorrow to deliver the food to the family reunion. At three o’clock, she’d allow herself the luxury of having a breakdown.

  In the meantime, she had no choice but to stay the course. This catering job was what mattered the most. With the way things were going at work, or weren’t going, her future could depend on it.

  Kind of like Spence’s racing quarter horse farm. If his mare had truly been in distress, if the foal had died, he’d have lost a sizable investment and perhaps a whole lot more.

  “Are you okay?” Cara asked. She was adding water to the bucket of soaking wood chips.

  “Fine.” Frankie returned to prepping and seasoning the meat. “Just momentarily distracted.”

  Not long after that, Miguel arrived.

  “The cavalry’s here,” she announced, letting him in.

  He held up a long black carrying case. “I brought my knives. My personal set. Not those lousy ones from the café.”

  “You’re the best.” She hugged him. “I have a pile of whole chickens with your name on them. I was thinking of just cutting them in quarters.”

  He followed her into the kitchen, exchanged hellos with Cara and then started to work, needing very little direction.

  “Why did you call my dad and not me?” Frankie asked.

  “When you didn’t pick up, Spence suggested I try Ray, and gave me his number.”

  Frankie rolled a rib in a large pan of seasoning, coating each side, and absently murmured, “I’ll have to thank him.”

  “He could use some cheering up.” Miguel quartered a whole chicken in three swift moves. “Looked down in the dumps to me. I wonder why?”

  Frankie didn’t answer. There was simply too much work to be done to let herself get distracted. “Anyone want some coffee? We’re in for a long night.”

  With assembly line precision, they eventually had every piece of brisket, every rib and every chicken quarter prepped and in the smokers. At the last minute, Frankie had started her two small personal smokers, fearing there wouldn’t be enough room in the commercial one. And she’d been right.

  At about nine o’clock, Cara went home, taking an ice chest full of the meat Frankie had deemed not to her standards. It would be fine for home use, and she was keeping some for herself.

  “I really shouldn’t,” Cara protested, staring at the cooler. “There has to be a couple hundred dollars’ worth of meat in there.”

  Frankie insisted, and they lugged the ice chest to Cara’s vehicle. “I owe you more than that for your and Jake’s help.”

  She’d filled the remaining chests left by Reese and Gabe, intending to give one to Miguel and the rest to her family. While Miguel babysat the smokers, she ran to the market for bags of ice, arriving five minutes before it closed. After the reunion, when she found the time, she’d deliver the remaining chests. Until then, packed with ice, the meat would keep plenty cold.

  There was also the matter of reimbursing Spence for the meat. She’d get to that, too, paying him out of the money from the client. Knowing him, he’d refuse. That wouldn’t stop her from offering, however.

  “Hit the sack,” Miguel told Frankie. “I’ll watch the smokers for a while.”

  “You have to be more tired than me. You worked an extra shift at the café before getting here.”

  “I’m fine.” He was already sitting at the patio table, his feet propped on an adjacent chair. “I’ll set the alarm on my phone in case I doze off.”

  “All right,” she reluctantly agreed. “Wake me for any reason. I don’t care how minor you think it is.”

  Every bone in Frankie’s body ached, especially those in her hands and feet. Even so, she couldn’t sleep. The argument with Spence played over and over in her head, refusing to let her relax. She debated texting Mel and asking about Spence’s mare.

  Not that she doubted him. Spence wouldn’t have broken his promise to her for any trivial reason. Frankie was simply curious if the mare was doing okay.

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true. As much as she wanted to believe Spence, doubts plagued her.

  Why hadn’t he called, dammit? Kept calling when he didn’t initially reach her? Then none of this would have happened. They’d have prepared the meat together, and he’d be on the patio instead of Miguel. Or here, in her bed, making love to her while the smokers toiled.

  His lack of consideration was what really angered her. Spence thought solely of himself. He’d never put his family first. Put her first. She’d been right to send him away and would be a fool to consider taking him back for even one second.

  That didn’t stop her heart from breaking clean in half.

  He’d been wrong when he’d accused her of fearing commitment. Frankie loved Spence. She always had. If not, she wouldn’t be lying with her face buried in her pillow now, crying until no more tears remained.

  * * *

  “THANKS, LUCAS.” SPENCE shook hands with the racing quarter horse owner. “I appreciate the offer more than you know.”

  “You’re a good trainer. With the potential to be a great one.”

  Spence shrugged off the compliment. “I still have a lot to learn.”

  He’d been in Florence since early morning, working with the colt—as much to avoid thinking of his and Frankie’s blowup as making a final decision on whether or not working with Lucas was the best career decision for him.

&n
bsp; “I’d sure like to be the one to help teach you,” Lucas said.

  His offer had been a generous one that included accommodations for Spence’s two mares and any other horses he might buy, along with the foals they produced.

  “And I couldn’t ask for a better mentor.” Spence shook the other man’s hand before getting in his truck.

  During the hour drive home to Mustang Valley, he mentally reviewed his options. The best choice was probably taking Lucas’s offer and moving to Florence. Only, he’d declined. Something about the job didn’t feel right. Though the colt showed promise, he hadn’t lit a spark inside Spence, not like Han Dover Fist did the first time Spence saw the horse run. He’d known in an instant his fate was tied to the big, handsome horse, and he’d been right.

  Mostly, his reservations stemmed from working for someone else with no chance of ownership whatsoever. That wasn’t acceptable. If Spence had learned one thing about himself these past few years, it was he needed to be his own boss. He hadn’t hopped from one job, one town, to another because of any wanderlust.

  Rather, he’d been searching. For something else, something better, something that would allow him to be the captain of his own ship.

  Okay, that sounded corny, but it was true. Maybe like his father, Spence had a compelling drive to make it on his own. Be the one to take all the credit for his success and, like it or not, all the blame. Was that so bad?

  He could always move back to Marana. His family would certainly welcome him with open arms. Except that felt too much like going backward instead of forward.

  There was also nothing stopping him from returning to Cottonwood Farms in California. He did have that open invitation from his former boss, and he’d be able to take his mares.

  Except he’d be separated from Paige and Sienna by hundreds of miles. Whatever direction Spence took, wherever he wound up, it would be close to his daughters. He’d made a commitment to them and Frankie, and Spence was a man who kept his word. Granted, at one time that hadn’t been true. Frankie would no doubt agree. But he truly was a different man these days.

  If not in Mustang Valley, then Spence would live and work at a place near enough to see the girls often, help Frankie to raise them, and eventually share custody. The fact that he still cared for Frankie with every fiber of his being shouldn’t factor into his decision, though it did. He refused to venture far from her, too.

  As he stopped for gas at the station on the edge of town, he began having second thoughts. His money, which had once seemed abundant, was disappearing fast. He’d shelled out a fair amount already for child support, rental on the mares’ stalls, vet bills and Frankie’s catering business.

  Lucas gave him a check today, but it was only enough to pay Eddie for use of his spare bedroom these past weeks, with a little left over for groceries.

  If he was going to prove his claims of having matured in recent years were founded, he’d have to develop a plan of action quick before his money ran out.

  He debated calling Frankie and checking on how she’d fared with the catering job, but resisted. Instead, he drove to the local bank, which was open for another twenty minutes, intending to cash his check.

  While waiting for the teller to finish with the customer ahead of him, Spence glanced at the posters offering various services. An idea sprang into his head and quickly took shape.

  Stepping up to the counter, he said, “Hi. I’d like to open an account.”

  “Certainly, sir.” The young man smiled. “The assistant manager will be right with you.”

  The assistant manager turned out to be Reese Dempsey, daughter of Theo McGraw, who owned The Small Change Ranch.

  “How are you?” She greeted him warmly and led him to her office with its large glass window looking out to the bank lobby.

  “Real good. Tell your dad hello for me.”

  “I will. He’s quite fond of you.” She sat at her desk while Spence lowered himself into the visitor chair.

  “The feeling’s mutual.”

  “He was very impressed with your mock race and all the money donated for the sanctuary.”

  “Couldn’t have done it without him.”

  “Gabe and I saw Frankie just last night. We took her over a bunch of beef for her catering job. She tell you?”

  “No.” Spence tried not to show his surprise.

  “Oops.” Reese’s cheeks colored slightly. “Sorry. I figured...my mistake.”

  “Hey, no problem. I’m glad you helped her.” He should have counted on Frankie finding a creative solution for the catastrophe he’d caused.

  “What kind of account are you looking to open?” Reese asked, smoothly bringing their discussion around to the reason for his visit.

  “Come to think of it, I might need two accounts. A checking and a joint savings. Is something like that possible?”

  “Absolutely,” Reese assured him, beaming. Swiveling her computer monitor so Spence could see the display, she started typing on the keyboard. “We have several products available.”

  Opening two accounts took them well past closing time. Reese didn’t appear to be in a hurry. One of the benefits of small-town living, Spence supposed. People weren’t just customers, they were friends and neighbors.

  Feeling better and better about this inspired step he’d taken, Spence bade Reese goodbye and left the bank. As if a door had been opened, another idea came to him. It was almost too crazy to consider. Luckily, Spence was a risk taker.

  Sitting behind the steering wheel, he dug in his wallet for the business card Annily Farrington had given him at the adoption event. Finding it at last, he stared at her phone number, address and racing farm logo while remembering their recent conversation.

  I briefly considered finding a new business partner, then decided I’d try downsizing first. I’ve never been the easiest person to get along with. Hate to put that burden on someone I like.

  He’d meant to call her, but his mind had been otherwise occupied these past two weeks. Well, as the old saying went, no time like the present.

  When she didn’t answer, he left a voice mail message. She called back before he reached the next stop sign.

  “Sorry I missed you,” she said brightly. “I was on the treadmill. Doctor claims if I don’t exercise every day, I’ll be in a wheelchair within a year. What does he know?”

  Same as before, Spence didn’t press for information regarding her health, though being in a wheelchair did sound serious. Annily was a fighter, however, and he didn’t see her giving up easily.

  After a brief round of small talk, Spence asked, “Any chance you’re free this afternoon?”

  “You wanting to bring those girls of yours out for a visit?”

  “I do, but not today. There’s something else I’d like to run by you, if you have the time.”

  “Now I’m curious. Everything’s okay?”

  “Hopefully better than okay.” Or, more likely, he’d had a harebrained scheme and she’d laugh in his face. “I can be there in a half hour.”

  “Perfect. I just made a jug of sun tea. See you then.”

  He stopped at the market on his way out of town for a couple chocolate bars—Annily favored the caramel-filled ones. Yes, he was attempting to butter her up before springing his idea on her. Why lie?

  Annily threw open the front door before he’d even shut off his engine. Doing her best to hide a limp, she showed him to her large, comfortable country kitchen. She didn’t believe in living rooms, preferring the kitchen for entertaining and socializing. A pitcher of iced sun tea and two glasses were already set out on the table.

  After Spence caught her up on the latest and showed her pictures of the twins on his phone, she came right to the point. “Which do you want to do first? Tour the farm or talk business? ’Course, I’m guessing whatever yo
u want to run by me is business, seeing as you didn’t bring the girls.”

  Annily might be getting older, but she was sharp as ever. Spence chuckled and shook his head in amusement. “Any reason we can’t do both at the same time?”

  “Not at all.” She pushed herself to her feet, needing to brace a hand on the table for extra support.

  Outside the back door was an electric-operated golf cart. She slid into driver’s seat and started the engine.

  “We can cover more ground faster this way,” she said, and off they went.

  Farrington Farms was a third the size of Annily’s former place. Even so, she’d spared no expense. Every piece of equipment was brand-new and of the highest quality or latest technology. The stalls in the horse stable were roomy, well ventilated and freshly cleaned. As they traveled the stable aisle, he admired her exceptional racing stock. Annily filled him in on the horses’ various pedigrees. Spence recognized most of the lines.

  The well-manicured practice track circled a large oval grassy area. In the center, flower boxes overflowing with colorful pansies were lined up in a long row. Two feed barns were filled with the finest quality alfalfa and grains. Three outbuildings sat clustered between the pastures and the race track.

  “You have a beautiful place here, Annily.” Spence couldn’t be more sincere in his praise.

  “I thought by downsizing, I’d be able to stay in the race game. Not sure I can if I’m in a wheelchair.” She grumbled with disgust. “Sucks getting old. Sucks more having osteoporosis.”

  Spence suspected there might be more going on healthwise. She’d become very short of breath when they were touring the practice track.

  “What if I could help you?” he asked.

  Interest flared in her eyes. “You looking for a job?”

  They walked slowly from the outbuildings to where Annily had parked the golf cart, and then stopped in the shade to continue their conversation.

  “Yes and no,” Spence said. “What I’d like is to be your partner.”

  “You don’t say?” She narrowed her gaze. “And how do you envision this partnership working?”