Lincoln shrugged. “I have no connection to Carter, but you do with Hayes. Figured you might want to keep it.”
I didn’t know why the thought of Lincoln taking my surname got me all emotional, but it did. I’d always assumed I’d hyphenate, seeing as most guys I knew expected their wife to take their last name.
But Lincoln wasn’t just any guy. I shouldn’t have even been surprised he’d do something so thoughtful. That was just who he was.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” my dad chuckled, covering his mouth with his hand. “That old bastard was right.”
Lincoln and I both turned, staring at my dad in confusion. “Who?”
Dad’s face sobered for a moment before clearing his throat. “Frank. He’d said something that didn’t make much sense then, but I see it now.” He stood from his seat, pulling a key from his pocket and setting it on the table before us. “We’ll handle the details of your full-time employment later, but I wanted to go ahead and give that to you. The cabin’s been vacant for quite a while, so it’ll need a good cleaning before it’s livable, but I think you’ll like it.”
“Wait, Frank said something about us?” Lincoln asked, his voice wavering. He looked down at me in question, but I was just as confused as he was.
I reached over and took his hand as Dad nodded. “Now, I didn’t know the extent of y’all’srelationshipwhen I called you up and offered you the temp job, but Frank had mentioned the two of you met when Josie went up there. He thought it’d be damn good for the both of you if I gave you a job and brought your ass to Texas. I didn’t get it then, but I sure as hell do now.” He paused, and looked up at me. Tears lined my eyes, mimicking the ones in his own. “You know, I used to think there wasn’t a soul alive who was good enough for my daughters, but I’ll say this, son…” His gaze shifted to Lincoln. “I’ve never been so happy to be wrong before.”
“Sir, I don’t know what to say…” Lincoln began, but my dad held his hand up.
“Nothing to say, son. Just take care of my girl, and love her well.”
“Dammit, Daddy. Way to make me cry,” I said, wiping my eyes. My dad was the best man I knew, and though I didn’t need it… Knowing Lincoln had his approval meant the world to me.
“Aw, sugar… As long as those are happy tears, cry all you want.”
“C’mon, Dad,” Cleo said, smiling at us as Dad wrapped his arm around her waist. “Let’s leave the lovebirds be.” They walked into the kitchen, heads bent together in conversation, leaving us to gawk at Dad’s news.
As I turned toward Lincoln, his eyes were brimming with unshed tears. “You okay, baby?”
He cleared his throat, blinking rapidly to clear them away. “I think so. It’s just a lot,” he whispered, giving me a shaky smile. “I’m glad I have you, though, darlin’.”
I laid my head on his shoulder. “I’m glad I have you, cowboy.”
epilogue
. . .
Josie
“How does it feel being back?”I asked, placing my hand in Lincoln’s as we walked around the front of his truck toward the entrance of Frank’s bar.
He paused, looking up at the new neon sign that’d been installed this morning. The casing around it was clear and fresh, unblemished from the harsh weather and years of wear and tear.
It was the beginning of September, and there was a chill in the air from the changing seasons. Summer clinics had been over for over a month. Dad, Lincoln, and I hit the road to take a break from the hectic summer we’d had and to pack up his stuff and sort out the sale of the bar. We took him out to Frank’s land, where he’d ended up staying most of our visit.
It was crazy watching Lincoln and Dad together. They were like two damn peas in a pod. Where one went, the other followed. After the day we’d gotten together, I wondered if Dad would rescind his approval and make Lincoln’s life a living hell, but he was just as smitten as I was. After we got to Tennessee, they’d spent the first two days going out and exploring Frank’s property, making plans to renovate the small house and barn while keepingthe integrity of the structures intact. Just like he’d said, Dad laid out an offer on Frank’s land, making the transfer as easy as crossing t’s and dotting i’s.
But the bar had taken time.
Lincoln had contacted some of Frank’s old buddies, asking them to put the feeler out for someone interested in keeping Frank’s legacy alive. The outpouring of interest had been staggering, but most wanted to take what was here and renovate it until it became something new.
It wasn’t until the mayor’s grandson threw in his offer that we knew we had a legitimate deal on the table. Duke Bennett ran the mechanic shop downtown and was a frequent patron of the bar. He reminded me a lot of Lincoln—respectful, straightforward, handsomely rugged—. Still, there was a darkness in his gaze my cowboy never had.
Negotiations went quick. Lincoln’s contract was thorough. He had the right of first refusal, and the buyer agreed to never demolish or renovate the bar in a way that would alter Frank’s vision. They sealed the deal over a glass of whiskey and a handshake before signing on the dotted line.
And then there was Ellis.
After further digging and investigations, it’d come to light that he’d not only forged my dad’s name on a large number of financial transfers, but others as well. All in all, he’d embezzled well over one million dollars from his clients in the span of one to two years and was now sitting in jail waiting for a trial I couldn’t wait to see.
It’d been a lot to handle once news broke. Ashwood had been shaken by the allegations, and Ellis had put up a fuss the entire way to the jail. He screamed his innocence until he was hoarse, but at that point, he was only further digging his grave.
