Page 6 of A Summer to Claim Her Cowboy

Frankie felt like her already bruised heart had been grabbed, thrown hard against the wall, and shattered. Chad breaking up with her and the prospect of having to be homeless could never have hurt as much as Walker saying he didn’t need her.

And anyway, it wasn’t like she would be homeless. Her friend Carly would take her in. It was just that Carly lived in a one bedroom above the bar in town. So it wasn’t like she had a lot of space.

She would have a temporary solution, but she wanted something a little bit more long-term.

You want to be with him. Admit it.

She didn’t want to admit it. It was too hard. It hurt too much. Especially in the face of him telling her that he didn’tneed her anymore.

“Oh. I...” She was such an idiot. It had never occurred to her that the boys growing up meant she wouldn’t be here all the time. She just... She hadn’t been able to face that. Because in many ways she felt more like a surrogate mother than a nanny. And a mother didn’t leave just because the kids were grown and...

You’re not their mother. You never have been.

No. But she loved them like she was. She loved them so much. She loved this house so much. And she...

You love Walker. That’s the problem. It’s always been the problem.

No. She wasinfatuatedwith him. It was foolish. He was a grown man. In a very intense way. A man who had been married. Who had loved. Who had lost. She was twenty-four. She didn’t have any kids of her own. She didn’t have a permanent situation.

She’dwantedit. She had set Chad up as a method to have a second-best life. And the truth was, he called her out on it. She felt completely hard done by, but if she was honest, she hadn’t been good to him either. What she’d done hadn’t been right.

She’d just hoped that she could hide it. From him. From herself.

She hadn’t done a good enough job.

She had moved in with Chad, said she’d loved him, knowing that he would always occupy second position in her life. Because Walker and the kids wouldalwaysbe first. They always had been.

At every stage of her life, Walker and the kids had been number one.

And now he was saying he didn’t need her. She couldn’t bear this. Losing the kids—having them grow up—was already so painful. To go from being an integral part of their lives to...not being. To having them with her every day to them having their own lives...it was devastating in a way she hadn’t anticipated. And now Walker didn’t want her either?

“I...”

She sat down on that well-worn couch, shock rolling through her. “I...” And to her horror she began to cry.

She’d already cried today, so her tears were close to the surface. It was mortifying.

“Oh, hell. Frankie, don’t do that.” She looked up at Walker, who looked...frankly, terrified.

“You don’t need me,” she said, to fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “I... I should’ve expected that. But I didn’t. And...”

“Shit, Frankie.” He sounded a little panicked now, which really wasn’t helping. “Please don’t cry. Hell. I didn’t mean it to come out that way. I mean in a practical sense...”

“But I can still be there for you. I can still clean. And cook. I’ll do more. I’ll figure it out. I’ll be your ranch hand.”

“Dammit. Frankie, you don’t need to be my ranch hand. You can be my housekeeper.For now, you can be the housekeeper. And we’ll figure out the rest of it later. But if you need a place to stay, of course you can have it.”

Out of pity. He pitied her because she’d cried.

And she really wasn’t above taking his pity right now.

“You won’t regret it. I promise. I’ll make it work.”

“Do you need help moving your things?”

“Almost all the furniture is his. I just got a couple suitcases full of my clothes.”

“All right. You can... You can bring it into Carter’s room. But you know when he comes back for break, you can’t... You’re going to need to have other arrangements.”

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