Epilogue
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 keeping the 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.
Charles assisted in building the case against his son, which I knew was breaking his heart more than he let on. Everytime we saw him, he looked more haggard than the last. He’d since retired from his firm, and spent his free time out here on the ranch with my dad.
I was glad their friendship hadn’t been affected for long.
“Feels weird to be a regular patron,” Lincoln said, holding the door open for me. “It’s like I’m waiting for that old bastard to yell at me for being late or some shit.”
“I’m sure there’s a line of them in there waiting to welcome you back home,” I said with a wink.
He smacked my ass, ushering me toward the bar where we’d first met. I took my seat as Lincoln shook the hands of the old men sitting nearby. There was a worn, empty stool in the middle of their group. On the back was a bronze plaque emblazoned with four words.
Frank’s seat. Fuck off.
There was a young woman behind the bar, pouring a round of beers for the rowdy group of cowboys near the jukebox. They hooted and hollered, trying to get her attention, but she paid them no mind.
I slid my gaze to the pool table in the corner as they grabbed their drinks and made their way over. My cheeks heated as I remembered how Lincoln had taken me there for the first time. How my hips had bruised from being slammed into the worn wood over and over again.
“Oh hell, I know that look,” Lincoln said, sneaking behind me. He kissed my cheek, sliding me a beer and a shot of whiskey. “What do you say, darlin’? Wanna get drunk and shut this place down for the night? See how much of a mess you can make while bent over and screaming my name?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I asked, shifting in my seat to soothe the ache he’d created.
His eyes traveled down, smirking when he realized what I was doing. “I sure would. Something tells me you’d like it too.”
I lifted my glass to my lips, hiding the smile behind it. “Too bad you don’t run the place anymore. Guess we’ll have to settle for memories.”
Lincoln sat beside me, tossing his arm over the back of my chair. “That’s where you’re wrong, darlin’.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged, looking straight ahead as he sipped his beer. “I might have cut a deal with the new owner.”
“What kind of deal would that be?”
“The kind that says I don’t have to turn in my keys to this place until the morning and that I’ll be loading up that damn pool table on our trailer before we head out.”
I turned toward him, mouth open. “Wait, what? I thought it was the first thing Frank bought when he opened the place?”
“It was, but those old fuckers down there insisted I take it.” Lincoln looked down at his bottle. “I’m damn glad they did because the thought of losing everything he gave to me didn’t sit right. Now it’s coming home with us.”
My gut churned. Lincoln and I had talked about selling the land and bar many times over the past few months. Each time, he insisted Texas was his new home, and he had no regrets about leaving Tennessee. That didn’t mean I felt any better about it. Instead, I worried he’d regret it one day.
“Before that mind shifts into overdrive,” he said, placing a hand on my knee, “this has nothing to do with me moving away. That’s what he wanted in the end, anyhow.”
“Then what’s it about?” I asked, letting his touch calm me down. I didn’t know how he did it or why it worked, but he was always steady. Somehow, he kept me from losing myself to the thoughts in my head.
“Frank only wanted the best for me, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but darlin’… that’s you.” Lincoln looked around the bar before shaking his head. “You know, I used to think it only took me five days to fall in love with you, but honestly… I fell in love with you the moment you walked into this little bar tucked between the pines.” His dark brown eyes turned to me, melting me and any argument I’d been preparing to make. “I may be giving up some pieces of my past, but I’m gaining a damn fine future.”
I reached forward, tugging on the collar of his shirt to bring him closer. As our lips met, the bar erupted in a chorus of laughter and cheers. Lincoln’s mouth curled up in a smile against my own. He raised his arm, flipping the room off as we pulled apart.
“You’re quite the romantic,” I said, wiping away the remnants of my lip gloss.
Lincoln smiled, tucking my hair behind my ear. “So, what do you say, baby? Feel like getting a little wild for old time’s sake?”
I looked up, taking his hat from his head and setting it on my own. “Damn right, Cowboy. Let’s go.”