Her Billionaire Cowboy's Fake Marriage
Table of Contents
Title Page
Description
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
About the Author
Copyright
HER BILLIONAIRE COWBOY'S FAKE MARRIAGE
McCoy Billionaire Brothers, Book One
HOPE MOORE
Her Billionaire Cowboy’s Fake Marriage
The last thing cowboy Wade McCoy expected when his beloved billionaire granddad died was for him to require Wade to marry in order to keep the vast McCoy Ranch that they both loved and built together. But that is exactly his granddaddy’s requirement: Wade was to marry within three months, stay married for three months or he lost it all, for him and his brothers.
He didn’t like it one bit, but one thing his granddaddy knew about him was that Wade never let a challenge get the better of him and he had no plans to lose the ranch he loved. His granddaddy had him over a barrel, and he knew it. Now he just had to find someone to go along with this crazy idea.
Allie Jordon was desperate. Every bad piece of luck that could have befallen her had done so and now, after losing everything, including her sweet father, she needed funds to get her mother the best care available or she just might lose her too.
A chance meeting with a lonely looking cowboy at the truck stop she was waitressing at could change her life…if she says yes to an absolutely off-the-wall proposal that could be the miracle she’s been praying for.
Chapter One
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Wade McCoy stared at his granddaddy’s lawyer, Mr. Cal Emerson.
The thin-faced, somber-eyed man’s scowl did not look as if he were kidding. Though his intense eyes were full of sorrow and solemnity today. He had, after all, been one of J.D. McCoy’s best friends. Wade and his brothers had lost a grandfather but Mr. Emerson had lost a buddy.
And then there was the significance of what he’d just told Wade, Todd, and Morgan. That would also play into the graveness of the moment and expression.
Wade had a feeling his expression mirrored Mr. Emerson’s.
Morgan looked more perplexed than angry. Todd wore a tightly controlled expression.
They’d just come from the graveside and were sitting in their granddaddy’s office, surrounded by the scents of leather furniture, a lot of dark wood, and thick Western art rugs that J.D. McCoy had loved. His essence surrounded them. That, and the force of nature that he’d been, still lingered.
“This is ridiculous.” Morgan crossed his arms from where he stood, next to the massive fireplace.
“It doesn’t sound like him,” Todd added, leaning forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees. “Why would he do that to us, but most especially to Wade? That’s a lot of pressure on him.”
“Tell me about it.” Wade leveled a penetrating gaze on Mr. Emerson. “Just to be completely clear. You said my granddaddy left me and my brothers the ranch, but only if I find a wife before the end of three months? And then stay married for at least three months.”
The lawyer placed his hands flat on the desk on either side of Wade’s granddaddy’s will that lay open in front of him. “Yes, that is what I said. And Wade, he was very clear that those were his requirements in order for you to keep McCoy Enterprises Ranch and Cattle Division and that includes the oil rights. He thought maybe you needed a little nudge. He knew how much you loved this place. And he knew how negative you were about marriage. He hated that in the worst way. He told me that the ranch was too big to have you wandering around all by your lonesome. He said you needed to build a family out there and enjoy it. Those were his words. But to be clear, your shares in the hotel chain and other investments are not in jeopardy.”
And there it was, the announcement that had disbelief strangling him with angry claws that tightened around Wade’s throat. He hung his head and rubbed his forehead as a drumbeat intensified behind his eyes. His heart ached at the loss of the man he’d loved with every ounce of his being. The man he’d respected beyond anyone ever. Why had Granddaddy done this? His mind clicked through everything that had happened in the months before he died. What had happened to cause this? Nothing that he could think of.
“It doesn’t make sense. Cal, this just does not make sense.” Morgan glared, looking as if he, too, were getting a headache. He focused on Wade. “Did he take a fall and hit his head or something?”
Wade shook his head. “No fall that I know of.” He’d been wondering whether he’d fallen off his horse and hit his head, gone crazy, or lost his faculties but Wade was coming up empty.
“Had he shown any signs of senility?” Todd crossed his arms. His brows were nearly touching. “He seemed fine the last time he came over to see me.”
Wade racked his brain. Had he missed the signs? He replayed the months, but there didn’t seem to be anything about his attitude or his actions that would have led Wade to believe he was anything but the astute businessman that he’d always been. They had just gone on a three-day cattle roundup and his granddaddy, though he was seventy-seven years old, had ridden straighter in the saddle than any of the cowboys who worked for him. He’d slept in a bedroll under the stars like the rest of them, enjoying the feeling of doing it the way his ancestors had done it years ago.
“No,” he growled, feeling helpless to figure it out. “There was nothing wrong with his brain at the time of his death or any time before that. Did he recently amend this will?”
Cal Emerson nodded. “He did, but he was every bit of sound mind when he did it.”
Todd stood and moved to the window then back to the chair. He was finding nothing humorous about any of this, the hard angles of his face grim. “Why?”
Wade knew his brother was as frustrated as he was. “Todd, he was his same ole bossy and demanding self. On the roundup, he told the men exactly what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. Nothing wrong with his thinking.”
A melancholy smile momentarily settled on Todd’s face. “He was good at giving directions.”
“Too good at it,” Morgan grunted. “And still doing it from the grave. He always did want to control us.”
“I don’t call it that.” Wade refused to agree with Morgan after years of disagreeing over their granddaddy. “He just had a strong will. And so do you.”
“Whatever.” Morgan’s expression remained dark.
Wade ground his teeth, holding back anything that would make the situation worse. He knew his granddaddy hadn’t lost his mind. Meaning, therefore, that there was no easy reasoning for this craziness. Why in the world had he put in his will that Wade had to get married before the end of three months? Get married or lose everything.
Todd sighed. “I don’t get Granddaddy going to this extreme just to get Wade’s attention. And what about me and Morgan? We weren’t as close to him as Wade, so there must be something really crazy in there in store for us. He’s probably going to give me an ultimatum on the vineyard. I’m sure we won’t get off free and clear, right?”
“This is all I’m able to reveal at the moment. Your granddaddy left a complicated will for McCoy Enterprises, which includes the McCoy Ranch and Cattle Division, the McCoy Stonewall Jell
y and Wine Division and McCoy Enterprises Hotel and Resort Division. In due time all will be revealed.”
All their gazes collided. Wade cleared his throat, his mind churning. Wade yanked his hat from his head and worried it between his fingers. He had to get married. The news gnawed at him like a hungry coyote.
If he had to get married in three months to save his ranch, he’d do it.
“I know Granddaddy didn’t lose his mind, and I haven’t either. Whatever it takes to keep the Rocking M in my family, I’ll do.” Especially considering, for some reason, the task was on his shoulders to keep it in the family for all of his brothers. If he didn’t get married, Todd and Morgan lost out on the ranch too.
Morgan was right on the point that Granddaddy liked to give orders. But he hadn’t been able to tell the good Lord when it was his time to go. His death had been sudden and unexpected.
Nope, the Lord had decided a week ago, while J.D. McCoy was eating pecan pie at Dixie’s Diner, that J.D.’s time was up. And in a blink of an eye, he was gone. Wade had been sitting across the booth from his granddaddy when the heart attack had taken him.
No warning, no second chance at a miracle. He’d just been gone.
There hadn’t been a ride in an ambulance and a doctor going in and doing surgery to repair heart valves…no, it had been massive. One and done.
A knockout punch in the quickest form.
Why did some people get a shot at a miracle and others didn’t? Anger balled up inside Wade. He took a deep breath and yanked his gaze from where he’d been staring out the window. “My gut tells me this is a bluff.”
Wade watched Cal’s eyes and every facial expression for a sign that the lawyer might give him that said Wade had hit upon the truth. Because if anyone knew what J.D. was up to, it would be his buddy Cal. But Cal wasn’t one of the best lawyers in Texas and the country for nothing. He had a poker face that was legendary. And it was firmly in place. If he knew more than what he was telling him, his expression didn’t give it away.
J.D. McCoy had been ambitious and a hard worker. Yeah, ranching was always more profitable when there was oil on the place, but Granddaddy had built a respected chain of hotels and resorts too, and many other investments, including the extremely successful jelly and wine from the vineyard. And then there was the oil, which had complicated things sometimes. It had sure complicated Wade’s life…he’d never been able to hide from it.
“This is it, boys. The way he wanted it.”
Wade hung his head and tried to let the frustrations go. One thing his granddaddy had always taught him was if you had a job to do, you got it done and you didn’t bellyache about it. You didn’t procrastinate; you just manned up and got it done.
And then there was the family responsibility. That took precedence over everything.
“So, what’ll it be, son?”
Wade heard Granddaddy’s question as if he were standing in the middle of the office, his Stetson cocked back, with that crooked grin and challenge in his steel-blue eyes.
Wade lifted his head, and he met Mr. Emerson’s eyes with his stare. “Three months of marriage and then the ranch is ours? If not, then Morgan and Todd lose their shares too?” Did he think if he kept questioning it that the answer would be different?
Mr. Emerson nodded. “Yes. You’re the first domino, and if you fall, they all fall. But that doesn’t mean they don’t have their own stipulations on you all inheriting other portions of the will.”
Wade groaned. Granddaddy, what have you done? “So, when do Morgan and Todd find out what their stipulations are?”
Mr. Emerson leaned back in his chair. “Can I speak frankly?”
“Of course,” Morgan said, his voice tight with restraint.
“You know we don’t want you to speak any other way. We are clueless here, and quite frankly, at a loss. I want to speak frankly, too…you’re his lawyer. Why didn’t you advise him against these shenanigans?”
“Exactly,” Morgan snapped.
“I have to agree.” Todd hitched a brow.
Mr. Emerson quirked his lips. “Now you McCoy boys are sounding like J.D.,” he drawled, his Texas accent coming out. “You three boys and I all know that when your granddaddy got a spur up his butt or under his saddle, nobody was talking him out of it.”
“True,” Wade said. “Go on.”
“J.D. has been worried for a while now that the ranch out there was going to dry up, with no heirs. You’re the only one living on it who is his own flesh and blood. He built that ranch for y’all to take it over. It was his legacy to you three, and y’all were letting him down. He was desperate. Morgan and him haven’t gotten along in a long time. He and Todd butted heads some too—both were stubborn and a lot alike. Todd was never attached to the ranch like you, but he’s attached to the grapes and the land at the McCoy Stonewall Jelly and Wine Division. He was always scared he was going to die and there wasn’t going to be any great-grandkids to carry on what he’d started. Wade, you are not the marrying kind. You have never shown any inkling or any inclination toward marriage after—”
“True.” Morgan agreed.
“I work all the time. Just like he did. It’s my business if I don’t want to get married.”
“I know that,” Morgan snapped, frustration in his voice too. “What Delta did—”
Wade held his hand up and halted his words. “I don’t care to get into that. Not now, not ever.” He didn’t like being forced into anything. “So, when are the terms of the rest of the will going to be known for Morgan and Todd?”
“Only after you fulfill your part.”
“Did Granddaddy give you any hints or did he have any ideas about how I’m supposed to make this happen?”
Mr. Emerson chuckled, took his glasses off, and laid them on the desk as he rubbed his eyes. “Wade, you’re a smart fella. He figured you’d figure something out. I think he’s probably going to enjoy the show, because I’m like your granddaddy. I have a feeling you’re going to figure out how to come out of this on top. But, I have to warn you, when you walk out that door, the clock starts ticking.”
Morgan looked grim. “As much as I hope we don’t lose the ranch, you don’t have to do this, Wade.”
“I agree with Morgan.” Todd’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Granddaddy has gone too far. I can tell you I’m not marrying if he throws something like this at me. I’ll walk away. I just don’t get it. When he called me when I was recovering at the hospital, he never mentioned anything like this. It’s just not right.”
Wade took in their words, but this was his decision to make and only his.
He stood and slowly placed his hat back on his head. He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but he had to figure out something, because if there was one thing that was for certain, it was he would not lose this ranch. “Fellas, as crazy as it sounds, Granddaddy figured I could do this. He’s challenged me. Just like he challenged me every day all the days of my life. And he’s right in his thinking. I’m going to do it because too much of what I’ve worked for is riding on this. And there is no way on God’s green earth that I’m going to let him down. Or us. If he thought I could do this, then I will. Mark my words, Mr. Emerson, by the end of ninety days, I will be married.”
Allie Jordan was tired. Her head hurt, her back hurt, her feet hurt. But that was nothing on how much her heart hurt. She pushed that pain away, knowing that dwelling on it wouldn’t help ease something that couldn’t be undone. But work could help. Work and a paycheck was the only thing that could help her now.
That and a miracle.
She worked a double shift at the busy truck stop outside of Tyler, Texas. Her life was a mess, and the job was a lifesaver in a time when she didn’t have time to figure anything else out, and she needed the flexibility of the hours she could get. And those were in never-ending supply because there was an almost never-ending flow of hungry truckers stopping in. It made it hard for two waitresses and really hard on one when, like tonight, one had ca
lled in sick.
She’d walked miles from table to order window and back to tables, delivering food. Becky, the other waitress, had called in sick and had hated it, Allie was sure. But a stomach bug was going around, and Allie was just thankful she hadn’t gotten it. She couldn’t afford to be sick.
Picking up a platter of pancakes and bacon from the order window, she gave Pete, the cook, a weary smile. “Thanks.” Then she headed off to deliver the feast to the cowboy sitting in the corner, nursing his coffee that she’d refilled numerous times.
He looked about as worried as she was tired. She had noticed him when he first came in. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and had that cowboy swagger that she tried hard to ignore. Cowboys gave her indigestion. And considering she lived in Texas, born and raised in Texas, and was raised around cowboys, she had indigestion all the time. But really, she only got it when they smiled at her, or paid attention to her, or tried to get her to go out with them…she now had a cowboy rule.
She had learned a long time ago, up close and personal, that the cowboy myth that they were honorable was, in fact, a lie. She had had her fill of cowboys and their lies. But this guy, when he walked in—be still her heart—there was no denying that one look at him and she had forgotten the golden rule she lived by, and that was to avoid cowboys at all costs.
He’d looked tired and preoccupied, and yet, he’d still given her a soft thank-you when she’d set water and a mug in front of him and asked whether he’d like coffee.
“Yes, thank you,” he’d drawled, then rubbed his temple and stared out the window as she’d filled his cup. Something about him had her curiosity up, even when she knew better. Even when she had no time to even daydream about a handsome man—cowboy or not, it didn’t matter. She had no time for a man in her life right now, and no heart for it anyway. So why then was this cowboy setting butterflies swirling in her chest?
He didn’t smile, but he was gorgeous, a little sad-looking or worried—she thought he looked more sad than worried, and she knew how that felt. She was both herself. Maybe it was a combination of both for him, too. Whatever it was, he was pretty occupied with his thoughts and she felt a pull toward him. Which, for her, had spelled disaster not but a couple of months ago; she’d lost her savings and her dream all because she’d tried to be kind to someone. And then she’d lost more. Her heart clutched; she pushed the grief away and focused on her work. Thank goodness for work.