The Cowboy's Twin Surprise

“I’ll cater the reception, of course.” Frankie paused. “You are having one?”

“Yes.” Mel laughed. “And I wouldn’t dream of having a reception without your food.”

“Let me know what else I can do to help.”

Frankie was already contemplating contacting her sisters and stepmom about throwing a bridal shower. They’d better hurry. Next up would be a baby shower. Mel and Aaron may be planning a small wedding, but with the local vet marrying the local deputy, half the town would probably want an invite to one shower or the other.

A ping sounded from the table, Frankie’s phone emitting another alert. She quickly snatched it and checked the screen. Not a donation notice from her crowd-funding campaign. Just a text from her other sister. She set the phone down.

“That’s Ronnie. She says practice will run late again tonight, and Sam won’t be home until ten or ten-thirty.

“She’s really working hard.”

Sam had turned professional barrel racer after graduating high school and had her heart set on winning a championship title. To accomplish that, she’d first need to qualify for the National Finals Rodeo in December. With Ronnie’s expert help, her chances were good.

“She’s determined to come back after this last run of bad luck.” Frankie tucked her phone into her purse, which was hanging from the back of a chair. “Two disqualifications in a row and a tenth place. She’s frustrated.”

“She’s also young,” Mel said. “If not this year, there’s always next.”

“Yeah. That’s what Ronnie said for ten straight years. She qualified I forget how many times, but never won.” It was their younger sister’s biggest regret.

Frankie set the cooler on the table. All that remained was to get herself ready.

“There’s leftover macaroni and cheese and fruit salad for the girls.” She wagged a finger at Mel. “No soda or sweets. I don’t care what you’re craving.”

It was Mel’s turn to roll her eyes. “I got this. Quit worrying.”

“I should be back long before their bedtime.”

“Don’t rush. You and Spence have a lot of catching up to do.”

Frankie wished her sister would quit smiling. “I’m going to change.”

In the bedroom, she took much too long choosing what shorts and top to wear. In the bathroom, she fussed with her hair and makeup.

What had Spence seen when he’d looked at her this morning? Frankie was no longer the thin young woman with long blond hair and an enviable complexion. Her figure had filled out a little after giving birth to her daughters, and she’d cut her hair, opting for a more trouble-free style. Her brown eyes were the same, but these days her skin’s glow came from a bottle of foundation.

Refusing to admit how nervous she was, she dwelled instead on Spence’s return. If she lived to be a hundred, she would never understand why her sisters had told him about her crowd-funding campaign. When Frankie demanded an explanation, Mel had said they were proud of her and wanted to brag. Besides, he’d asked if she was still catering. What were they supposed to say?

A short while later Frankie returned to the kitchen, as ready as she’d ever be. Mel pulled her head out of the open refrigerator and gave her a once-over.

“Nice.”

“I just threw on the first thing I grabbed.” True. After ripping a half-dozen other outfits from her closet, she’d ultimately settled on her original selection.

“Still planning on telling him about...” Mel tilted her head toward the living room, where the girls were now wrapping their stuffed toys with toilet paper bandages.

She sighed. “Not sure it’ll be tonight. But, yes. I just wish he was more reliable.”

Mel came away from the refrigerator with fixings for the girls’ dinner. “But he likes kids, right?”

“He used to, anyway. I always thought he’d make a good father. Except for not wanting to settle down.” Or get married. But that hadn’t stopped Frankie from falling in love. “Did he happen to say where he was working these days?”

“No, and we didn’t ask.”

Frankie was still grappling with his generous donation and claim to have plenty of money. Also, the fact that if she accepted his donation, she’d have to give him an ownership share of her company. Hopefully, he wouldn’t bring up the subject tonight, but give her another day at least to get a better idea of why he was here, how long he was staying and what his future plans were, if any.

She mentally recounted all the jobs he’d had that she knew about. Rodeoing—until he tore his shoulder and had to quit. Ranch hand. Horse trainer. Trail guide for a wilderness outfitter. He’d even done a stint one season at a Wild West theme park, driving a stagecoach. She’d long ago lost track of how many different states he’d resided in.

Last she’d heard, over a year ago, through a friend of a friend of a friend, he was in California, working at a racing quarter horse farm. Frankie couldn’t imagine what he was doing there. Handler? Groom? Certainly not a jockey. He had the horse skills, but at six foot two, he was far too big.

She doubted he’d changed his wandering ways. Why else would he have unexpectedly arrived in Mustang Valley, other than a quick pass through town on his latest adventure? He probably assumed she’d softened after all this time. Well, he was in for a surprise.

Before leaving, Frankie went into the living room, where she kissed the girls and extracted promises from them to be good for Auntie Mel. At the door, her sister patted her on the back as if she needed moral support, which, perhaps, she did.

“Call me if there’s a problem.” With a last goodbye, Frankie was gone.

During the short drive to the park in the center of town, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the next few hours were going to have a huge impact on her life, if only because Spence might be learning he was a father.

How would he react? Run far and fast? Angrily accuse her of lying to him and go after her for custody of the girls? Insinuate himself into their lives?

He had made that donation to her crowd-funding campaign. According to the stated terms, donations of a thousand dollars or more entitled the contributor to a share in her company—until, and if, she bought them out. With interest, of course. Ten thousand dollars would entitle Spence to a...she didn’t want to think about that.

Frankie arrived early. Typical. She was a bit obsessive-compulsive when it came to not making people wait, something she herself hated.

All six picnic tables were empty, though a few children played in the nearby playground under the supervision of their parents, and a young couple rode their horses along the designated equestrian trail. At dinnertime on a weekday evening, the park was bound to be empty.

By six, her and Spence’s agreed-upon time, she had various covered containers unpacked and arranged. At five minutes past six, she huffed and checked her watch again.

Her anger returned, overpowering her nervousness. She should have expected this. He didn’t know the meaning of punctual. Her glance constantly traveling to the parking area, she alternated between sitting, standing, pacing and gnashing her teeth.

Two vehicles arrived: one a compact car and the other a brand-new, fire-engine-red dually pickup with all the bells and whistles. She immediately dismissed the compact car as something Spence wouldn’t drive. Could the truck be his? It did seem a bit much. She’d never seen him drive anything that wasn’t destined for the junkyard.

Another ten minutes. That was the most she’d give him. If he didn’t show by then, she was leaving. When a lone, tall man wearing a cowboy hat emerged from the pickup, Frankie’s heart gave an abrupt leap. It was Spence. How in the world—

He came toward her, his stride easy and confident, his trademark sexy grin firmly in place. As he neared, he removed his sunglasses and slipped them into his front shirt pocket.

She’d worried earlier about how she looked to him. Older. Less attractive. A duller version of her younger self. What she should have worried about was how he looked to her. Good. As appealing as always. Lip-smacking gorgeous.

Frankie knew in that instant she hadn’t changed one bit and was in serious danger of falling under his spell again. She struggled to shore up her defenses. Except she didn’t have a chance before Spence reached her and swept her into a hug.

Not a rib-crushing, good-to-see-an-old-friend hug but the heady, twirl-in-a-circle, steal-your-breath-away kind.

What am I going to do now?

He set her down. Fortunately, he didn’t let go of her arm or she might have stumbled. He’d left her that disconcerted and that unsteady.

Pretending to have caught her sandal heel in a hole, she insisted, “I’m fine,” and tried to extract her arm from his grasp.