Chapter Twenty-one

Janice had luckily been wrong about Wyatt and Francine getting killed during his driving lesson and now Wyatt had his own pick up truck that he'd been driving back and forth from work all week. It wasn't brand new and it had a few scratches in it's dark blue paint but Wyatt was proud of it.

He pulled into the parking garage beside the apartment building the next Friday and smiled as he remembered Francine helping him get gas just the day before. He'd been scared to death they were going to blow up and Francine had laughed like crazy when Wyatt had nearly let out a yell of fear when the woman at the pump beside them had lit up a cigarette.

"It's okay Wyatt, gas station blowups are really quite rare," she had teased. This had led to Wyatt tickling her, which had led to Wyatt pinning her to the side of the truck, which had led to them kissing for nearly ten minutes right there at the crowded gas station.

Wyatt took the stairs two at a time up to their floor. He still preferred them over that moving coffin they called an elevator. He could only imagine what would happen if something went wrong and that thing went plummeting to the basement.

Wyatt took out his key and unlocked the apartment door and as soon as he stepped inside he heard the argument taking place.

"You can't just move out!" Francine exclaimed loudly.

"I can't live here with you and your new husband. You're getting married next weekend and the last thing you and Casper need is me getting in the way while you go through your honeymoon phase," Janice countered.

"Janice, this is your home too!" Francine insisted.

Wyatt walked cautiously through the house. He had learned growing up that angry women were the most dangerous creatures in the world. They could turn violent at any moment and they didn't always attack the person they were really mad at.

"Francine, don't make this difficult," Janice pleaded with exasperation.

Wyatt poked his head around Janice's bedroom door and found the two women standing toe to toe. Janice had boxes in her room and was packing up her belongings while Francine kept grabbing things out of the boxes and trying to put them away.

Francine caught sight of Wyatt and immediately crossed the floor to him, grabbed him by the arm and yanked him into the room, "Help me, Wyatt," she begged. Wyatt saw that though she was trying to act angry, she was near tears and clearly heart broken.

Wyatt sighed with defeat. He would have done anything she asked in that moment with her big dark eyes shining with unshed tears, "What's going on?" he asked as he wrapped a comforting arm around Francine's shoulders.

"Janice said she's moving out. She got a new place and she's going to leave tomorrow. She already talked to the land lord and everything!"

Wyatt turned his gaze to Janice, "Why are you leaving?"

Janice sighed as she took the stack of clothes from Francine's arms and put them back in a box, "Because I don't feel like being a third wheel to the newly married couple," she replied and this earned a snort from Francine. Janice ignored her and continued on, "You both deserve your privacy and you don't need me hanging around and being in your way all the time."

"My sister would never be in the way," Wyatt assured her.

Janice shook her head, "I've made my mind up about this and I've talked to the land lord. It's a done deal," she assured them.

"But you're my best friend and we've been together for a long time," Francine said with a sniff as a single tear broke free of the hold she'd kept on it and rolled down her cheek.

"And I'll always be your best friend," Janice vowed comfortingly. "But you are moving on to the next phase of your life now. You have an amazing man who is going to be your husband in eight days. You'll probably be pregnant within a month if the make out sessions I've walked in on are any indication. Besides I'll come visit you so much that it'll be like I never moved out."

"Then don't move out," Francine replied stubbornly and Janice growled with frustration and turned back to her boxes.

"Franny, come with me for a minute," Wyatt said gently and he led Francine to her room.

"Make her stay, Wyatt," Francine said, not bothering to hold her tears back any long now that they were alone.

Wyatt felt his heart break and cradled her face in his hands, "How do you want me to do that? Tie her up and lock her in the closet?" he asked with a chuckle. "Because I will if you want me too. I'm sure there's some rope around here somewhere."

Francine laughed through her tears and shook her head, "I'm just going to miss her like crazy."

Wyatt wrapped his arms around her and she buried her face in his shirt. He smelled of saddle soap, horses, hay and sweat and it was an oddly familiar scent. She knew the reason that it was familiar was because they had lived a life together in which he had been a stable hand and she a duchess. The scent filled her with comfort and peace.

"I will too," Wyatt agreed. "But you'll have me to keep you company." He barely kept himself from adding, 'for now' to the end of that sentence.

Wyatt held her while she cried against his chest and after a few minutes he kissed her thick curls and pulled her away from him, "Why don't the three of us go out tonight?" he offered.

Francine wiped her face and looked up into his green eyes. They were looking at her with so much love and tenderness that it took her breath, "Go where?" she asked.

"Are there still saloons?" he replied.

Francine smiled, "We call them bars now and the girls don't offer to go upstairs with you anymore."

"Do they still serve beer and whiskey?"

"Yes they do," Francine replied.

Wyatt flashed a grin, "That's all that matters."

***

"This was a good idea, Casper," Janice admitted as she sipped at her bottle of beer.

Wyatt nodded and then looked at Francine who was tracing the condensation on her bottle with her fingertip. She still looked sad and distracted and Wyatt wished there was something he could do to cheer her up.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to the machine in the corner. He could see the CD's on the inside so he knew it must play music.

"It's called a jukebox. It plays music. You put in quarters, pick the songs you want and it plays them," Francine replied distractedly.

Wyatt reached in his pocket and pulled out some quarters, "Here. Go pick some songs. I'll be back." He stood and walked through the smoke filled bar and the crowd toward the bathroom.

"Come on Fran, let's pick out some tunes to liven this joint up," Janice said with a wink as she stood up. The women walked over to the jukebox and scanned the list of songs.

"Hey there ladies," a man said behind them.

They rolled their eyes and turned to see two men standing there with beers in their hands, "Hi," Francine offered and then turned back to the jukebox.

"Would you two ladies like to come sit at our table?" the taller of the two men asked.

Janice shook her head, "Not tonight. Tonight we're just out to reminisce about old times and celebrate new beginnings."

The shorter mans eyes scanned her up and down and she tugged down on her short skirt, "You got a problem controlling those eyes?" she demanded.

"A woman only wears clothes like that if she wants somebody to look," he replied.

Janice stuck up her nose and eyed him with contempt, "I want somebody to look, just not you." she assured him. Francine couldn't help but laugh.

"You think that's funny, pretty thing?" The tall man asked her. Francine nodded as she deposited a few quarters into the jukebox and picked a couple of songs.

"This is my song," the tall man said as a good country party song filled the bar.

Francine forced a tight smile, "That's nice," she whispered. He was standing entirely too close to her. She was leaning her body away from his but he continued to lean into her. She could smell the alcohol heavy on his breath and it nearly made her gag.

"You two ladies wanna dance with us?" the short man questioned.

"No. We didn't want to sit at your table and we sure as hell don't want to dance with you. Learn to take no for an answer," Janice said with an annoyed flip of her hair as she shoved her way past the short man who had had her all but pinned to the jukebox. She walked back toward their table with the short man on her heels.

"Is that how you feel too?" The tall man asked Francine as he leaned close and his lips brushed across her ear. She squirmed away from him but couldn't move out of his hold because of her position against the jukebox.

"I'm afraid so," she replied and she held up her left hand to show him her ring, "I'm taken."

The man looked around the bar and then snorted and shrugged, "I don't see nobody running over here to claim you. Dance with me."

"I really don't....." Francine started but she was interrupted by a throat clearing behind them.

Francine and the tall man both turned and there was Wyatt. He had a wide legged stance in his levis and his arms were crossed over his broad chest as he eyed the tall man as if judging the quickest way to kill him.

"Nice boots," the tall man said, eyeing Wyatt's cowboy boots.

Wyatt merely nodded, "Would you mind removing that arm from my fiancée's waist, before I remove that arm from your body?"

Francine's eyes widened at the ice in his tone. His jaw looked tense enough to crack walnuts and his green eyes were flashing with rage. She had never seen him so angry.

"Oh is this your fiancé?" the tall man asked with a grin as he pulled Francine up against him tighter.

Francine knew she was going to have to step in or else this man was going to get himself killed. She shoved him hard and caught him by surprise, managing to escape his grasp and she instantly went to Wyatt who slipped a gentle but possessive arm around her waist.

The tall man sneered, "I didn't realize she was taken. I apologize." While he might be a few inches taller than this cowboy the cowboy easily outweighed him by seventy pounds of muscle. He wasn't looking for a fight with him just now.

"Yes you did. At least be a damn man and own up to it," Wyatt countered sharply. Without waiting for a response he turned away from the man and led Francine back to their table where the short man was still coming on to a very annoyed Janice.

The short man's eyes widened with surprise and just a bit of fear when he caught sight of Wyatt, "Clear out," Wyatt's stern voice ordered. The man nodded and quickly left the table. Wyatt pulled out Francine's chair and pushed her back in before taking his own seat.

"You are badass," Janice said with a grin as she ran her hand through her hair.

"Not as badass as I'm going to be if those men don't quit staring over here," Wyatt countered. "Excuse my language," he added with a tip of his head.

Francine and Janice shook their heads and laughed lightly, "Wyatt, times have changed. You can't just beat the crap out of people because they make you mad anymore," Francine informed him as she took a sip of beer.

"They'll sue you," Janice added as she pressed her beer bottle to her cheek to cool herself off in the hot, crowded bar.

"Sue me?" Wyatt asked, "What is that?"

"It means they'll take you to court and make you pay for their pain and suffering," Janice replied.

Wyatt laughed loudly as if he thought she was joking but then he turned serious when he realized she wasn't, "That is the single most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" he exclaimed. "Men sure have turned into a bunch of yellow bellied sissies since I died."

"Yes. Yes, they have." Janice agreed.

The three of them sat together at the table laughing and talking for a long while. Wyatt kept his arm wrapped possessively around Francine's shoulders, not liking the way the tall man continued to eye her yet knowing that he couldn't beat the hell out of the man just for looking. Not in this day and time.

The jukebox began playing a slow love song and Wyatt looked at Francine. He wanted to ask her to dance but didn't want to leave Janice alone at the table.

Janice smiled when she saw the way Wyatt gazed longingly at Francine, "Oui, dance with your woman, Casper," she said wistfully. "Who am I to stand in the way of true love."

"Oui? Is that Spanish or something?" Wyatt asked with a frown. Janice grinned, "Or something."

Wyatt's brow furrowed but then he shrugged it off and stood, "Dance with me, Franny?" he asked as he held out his hand.

Francine smiled and took his hand. He pulled her to her feet and led her to the tiny dance floor, "I never slow danced before you, Wyatt," Francine admitted with a smile as she turned in slow circles in the warm embrace of Wyatt's arms.

"I never loved before you, but then again I never did much of anything for a long time before you so I guess we're even," he replied with a grin.

Francine would normally have rolled her eyes and slapped his arm but she was too peaceful and happy in his arms to do so now, "I can't wait to be your wife and spend my life with you," she said as she wrapped her arms a little tighter around his neck.

She felt his arms tighten around her as well, "I'll love you for the rest of my life, Franny, and I'll do my best to give you everything you've ever wanted."

They danced quietly for a few minutes and when the song ended Wyatt looked over at their table when another slow song came on, "Janice looks lonely."

Francine looked to the table, "Yes she does..... I think she's sad about moving out."

Wyatt heard the sadness in Francine's voice, "I think you're more upset than she is," Wyatt replied feeling just a little hurt. He wanted Francine to be just as happy as he was about starting their life together and it hurt to see her so sad over Janice. Wasn't he enough to make her happy?

"Your feelings are hurt," Francine noted as she lifted her head from his chest and looked at him.

"No they're not," he lied.

She rolled her eyes and raised her brow, "You can't lie to me, I know how to read you and you are upset."

"I'm fine, Franny. I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy, Wyatt. It's just sad to see some things end. Janice and I have been together in that apartment for a long time."

"Janice has company," Wyatt growled, when he saw the short man walking over to her. He couldn't hear what the man said but he saw Janice shake her head and the man grabbed her by the arm and looked as if he was getting angry.

"I'll be right back," Wyatt said as he pulled away from Francine.

"Wyatt...." Francine warned.

He grinned, "I'll be on my best behavior," he promised but she noticed that he crossed his fingers when he said it.

Wyatt walked over to the table and cleared his throat. The short man looked up, clenched his jaw and released his hold on Janice, "Is there a problem here?" Wyatt asked.

Janice sighed and brushed her hand across her arm as if removing invisible dirt, "Nothing a little pest control won't fix."

"Alright, alright, I'm leaving," the short man said as he held his hands up.

Wyatt rolled his eyes and looked back toward where he had left Francine only to see the tall man trying to get her to dance. Wyatt growled and stalked across the bar toward them, "You men are really starting to get on my nerves," He ground out as he approached Francine and the tall man.

"And you're getting on ours," the short man snapped as he walked up behind Wyatt.

"Maybe we should just go home," Francine cut in as she grabbed Wyatt's arm.

Wyatt shook his head, "We came here for a good time. There's no reason why we can't have one," he assured her and then turned his attention back to the two men as Janice walked up behind him.

"You sure are a cocky, son of a bitch!" the tall man bellowed angrily as he took a step toward Wyatt and shoved him backward.

Wyatt had had enough. He had planned tonight to cheer up Francine and Janice and these two men had ruined it. They had refused to leave the women alone, insulted him and pissed him off. Now they'd started a pushing and shoving match and insulted his mother. Whether he got sued or not there were some things a man just couldn't allow.

Wyatt removed Francine's hand from his arm and stepped forward causing both men to take a small step back, "We don't need to be doing this in here where there's ladies around. Let's take this outside," Wyatt said, tipping his head toward the door.

Both men laughed, "Should we bring our dueling pistols?" the short man snickered.

Wyatt smiled, but the expression was humorless and cold, "Your faces and my fists should be all we need."

"Wyatt!" Francine exclaimed. "We'll just go home."

Wyatt shook his head. He had never once in his life backed down from a fight and the way he had it figured these men deserved a good old fashioned ass kicking.

"Let's go then, you cocky bastard." the tall man said angrily and the two men headed for the door.

"Wyatt, no," Francine said sternly.

"Yes," Janice argued. "Those men deserve it."

"Wyatt, I don't want you to get hurt," Francine said earnestly.

Wyatt smiled and kissed her forehead, "Have a little faith in me, Franny, I'm gonna be just fine."

"You coming or have you changed your mind?" the tall man called from the door.

They had the attention of most of the bar now, "I'm coming," Wyatt assured him and then he leaned down to Francine's ear, "It won't be the first time I've scarred my knuckles. It'll be good for me, I've been one hundred and fifty years without a good fight." He didn't give her time to reply before walking outside.

"Men..... Even nearly two centuries ago they were worried about proving who had bigger balls." Janice mused.

Francine made her way to the bar quickly and paid off their tab before pushing her way past the crowd at the door and stepping out into the back alley.

Though she knew it was wrong and physical violence was never the answer to a problem, she couldn't help but hope that Wyatt would win. She nearly yelled out a warning when the tall man lunged at Wyatt but he easily side stepped him and then brought his arm down hard across the back of the mans neck dropping him to the ground.

Francine's heart nearly stopped beating when the short man pulled a knife and lunged at Wyatt from behind but Wyatt crouched and turned, swinging out his leg and bringing the short man down as well.

The tall man had regained his footing by now and swung a punch, catching Wyatt on the jaw. Much to Francine's surprise (and the tall mans) Wyatt chuckled and then swung his own punch which dropped the tall man into an unconscious heap on the dirty pavement.

The short man came at Wyatt again with his knife and Wyatt grabbed him by the arm and twisted. The man cried out in pain and the knife clattered to the ground. Wyatt swung his fist and the short man dropped to the ground on top of his friend.

The crowd seemed to realize the fight was over and after a few hoots and hollers they made their way back inside.

"Well that was a bit of a disappointment. I expected more of a fight," Janice noted with a frown.

Wyatt shrugged, "It went about how I expected it would."

"That's horrible!" Francine scolded. "Promise me you won't go around beating anybody else up."

"I can't promise you that," Wyatt replied.

"We should probably head back home before these guys wake up or someone calls the cops," Janice urged and the three of them started back to where they had parked the car.

"I can't believe he pulled a knife on you...." Francine said with disbelief. "It was kind of sexy how you beat them without even breaking a sweat though," she added with a grin.

Wyatt winked, "Or busting a knuckle," he added. "How about a kiss for my jaw though, it's a little sore."

Francine rolled her eyes and shook her head, "No, because that will only encourage you to do that again."

Wyatt laughed and wrapped his arm around her. He kissed her hair, "It felt good, Franny. I had over one hundred and fifty years of pent up aggression and I just let out a bit of it."

"You are awesome...I need to do a reverse family tree on you and find a great great great nephew or something that's still single," Janice said with a laugh.

***

"I am exhausted," Janice groaned when they walked in the apartment that night.

It was close to midnight and Francine waved her hand, "I'm going to take a shower and go to bed," she agreed.

Wyatt gave her a tender kiss and watched her longingly as she walked down the hallway toward the bathroom.

"Go with her, Casper," Janice encouraged with a smile.

Wyatt shook his head, "Nope." He saw a blinking light on a box by the phone. "What's this?" he asked Janice.

She looked over on her way to the kitchen, "Just push the button that says play." she replied.

Wyatt studied it and then pushed the play button as the sound of Francine turning on the shower came from the bathroom. Wyatt jumped when a voice began coming from the box.

'Francine, it's Gregory. I think you and I need to talk. You still have some things of mine at your apartment that I want back but because of the harassment and assault that I have received from you I will not be coming and getting them alone. I will be getting a police escort within the next few days to come and get my things. You are a disturbed woman and clearly crazy and I do not feel I would be safe coming alone since you have already tried to kill me once. I wanted to give you a warning so you would not be surprised when the police and I knock on your door. Goodbye'

"He's like a bad case of gas isn't he? He just keeps popping up and causing a twinge in the stomach and pain in the ass," Janice said as she walked out of the kitchen with a beer.

She came into the living room just in time to see the front door close and Wyatt disappear from sight. Her lips curved in a smile as she took a sip. She had a strong feeling that Gregory was about to regret that phone call.

***

Wyatt was surprised when he remembered so easily how to get to Gregory's apartment after only being there once so long ago. He took the stairs up to Gregory's floor and stood in front of the man's door. Gregory was going to leave Francine alone for once and for all. Wyatt would make sure of it.

He knocked loudly and waited impatiently for the door to open. When it did Gregory looked Wyatt up and down with annoyance, "It is the middle of the night. Can I ask who in the hell you are and what you are doing here?"

Wyatt shook his head and pushed his way into the apartment, "You can't ask me anything. I know who you are. I have warned you over and over again as nicely as I could to leave Franny alone. Okay, so I'll admit the computer upside your head wasn't nice but I figured it would get my point across."

"Computer?" Gregory gasped as all the color drained from his face. Wyatt nodded, "Yeah that was me, you little coward, so why don't you take it up with me before you call and threaten my fiancée with your talk about police escorts."

"Fiancée?" Gregory gasped and Wyatt wondered if maybe the man's brain was shutting down and refusing to acknowledge more than one thing at a time.

Wyatt felt his fists clenched. He wanted so badly to knock Gregory's big white teeth down his throat. He began pacing back and forth, "You are not going to get any police to come to Franny's apartment. You can kiss whatever she has of yours goodbye. I think you trying to take her by force gave her free range to keep it all. She has me now so you can quit coming around and quit calling cuz she don't need your lying, cheating ass. Are the two of us understood?"

Gregory stared hard at Wyatt for a moment and Wyatt wondered what the man was thinking, "I don't understand how you did what you did to me with that computer but you have no right to come into my home with your threats."

"They aren't threats, Gregory. You keep messing with my woman and I will kill you. It's that plain and simple."

"Where the hell did Francine find you?!" Gregory demanded as he inched toward shelf to his right, knowing that there were some candlesticks up there that would do some damage if he hit Wyatt in the head with them.

"I followed her home one day and just wouldn't leave," Wyatt replied. "Now are you gonna be a man and back off or am I gonna have to knock some sense into you?"

"You'll do no such thing!" Gregory exclaimed, "I might be smaller than you but I know karate."

"And I know kicking your ass," Wyatt shrugged, "Leave Franny alone or else I'll have to show you how it goes."

Wyatt turned and walked toward the door. He could hear Gregory walking up behind him, "Seems like you're going to an awful lot of trouble over that crazy, ghost hunting bitch," Gregory snorted, "The sex is good though so I don't blame you for fighting so hard to keep her."

Wyatt saw red. He turned and barely managed to dodge the heavy metal candlestick that Gregory had aimed at his head. Wyatt swung out with his fist and caught Gregory hard across the jaw. Gregory went down to the ground and curled up in a ball, moaning and holding his face.

Wyatt walked over and kicked the man in the legs, "Look up here at me, you damn wimp." he said and Gregory looked up at Wyatt with hatred and pain in his blue eyes, "You think Franny's crazy for what she believes in? What if I told you that I am a one-hundred and seventy-three year old ghost. I died in a battle during the Civil War before I was able to meet the woman who would have saved me. She is the same woman that I have been in love with for countless lifetimes before. In this life her name is Francine Ryan and I can make you this promise, Gregory. If you so much as breath in her direction again, if she has one more ounce of trouble out of you or has to hear your voice one more time, she'll be hunting your spirit because you'll be a dead man."

Wyatt fought the urge to spit on the cowering man and then he strode from the apartment and slammed the door behind him. He didn't think Francine would have any more trouble out of Gregory. Wyatt knew a coward when he saw one and that's exactly what that man was.

Wyatt knew that Francine would be upset over what he had just done but she would get over it. There were times in a man's life when he had to step up and whoop another man's ass to get his point across. Then again maybe it wouldn't hurt to snatch her some flowers out of the neighbors flowerbed, just in case.