But he couldn’t make his hand move to pick up the wood.
He stared at the knife, offset as it was with the steel of the operating room table beneath it. For that’s what it was, an OR table. She’d said that, too. And something more, perhaps about a doctor friend of her mother’s. None of it stuck as he stared at the knife in his hand.
The knife that looked very much like a scalpel stuck into a wooden handle.
The room tilted, and a wave of nausea hit him hard. As carefully as he could manage, Trey placed the knife on the table and turned to walk out into the sunshine with Sessa still talking. He got as far as the driveway before she caught up to him.
“Trey?” Her tone was balanced somewhere between a question and a demand. “What’s wrong? Are you ill?”
He was. Again. But pride wouldn’t allow him to admit it. Not to her.
So he straightened and turned to face her. Even in his worst moment, one look at Sessa Lee Chambers could turn him around. He made a note of this but couldn’t decide if it was a good thing or not. Power of that kind could be dangerous. Or it could be the best thing that happened to him.
“Must be something I ate last night.” He couldn’t quite meet her eyes as the words tumbled out.
She touched his sleeve, a light touch that lingered just above the crook of his elbow. “Something I can do?” she said in that sweet voice of hers.
He let out a long breath. “Yeah, there is. Why don’t you show me one more time what you need done and then maybe grab us both a glass of sweet tea? It’s gotten warm out here.”
It was. He was. But at least with her busy fetching tea, he might manage to collect himself.
She nodded, her expression still searching. To his surprise, she linked her arm with his. “All right then. But I’ll understand if you’re not feeling well. After all, it was your idea to do this. I can certainly wait until another day.”
But it couldn’t. For so many reasons, it couldn’t wait.
Shrugging off the effects of holding the knife, of seeing that table, Trey gathered up the tattered remainder of his pride and followed the woman who was quickly climbing into his heart back into the workshop.
This time he listened, mostly, as she showed him what to do. “Now you try.” She returned the knife to his palm and then pressed the piece of poplar toward him. “See how the edge there just needs a little work to make it look like the other leg?”
Trey studied the matching piece and then nodded at Sessa. Under her watchful eye, he touched the edge of the knife against the place where the cut must be made. Steadied one hand on the cold metal of the operating table. Gripped the handle of the carving knife. Stared at a blade that looked so like the scalpel he’d once used so expertly.
Just one cut. Just. One.
He let out another breath. Sucked in sawdust-scented air. Let out another breath.
And then Trey slid the edge into place. Made the cut.
“Great job.” Sessa headed toward the door, unaware of his fear. “I knew you could do it.”
But I didn’t, he silently called as she disappeared into the Texas summer sunshine. Until you showed me I could. The words danced through the sparkles of dust motes that swirled between him and the door.
Between him and Sessa Lee Chambers. The woman who made him feel as if he could do anything.
Sessa returned to find her new hired hand had done an expert job of matching the carving on the prancer’s front legs. So engrossed was he in completing the final details of the project that Trey barely noticed when she slid the glass of iced tea in front of him.
“Just a minute.” He turned the two legs over to compare them. “I need to make sure it’s exactly right.”
Sessa nudged him with her shoulder and gave him a sideways look. “It’s perfect. Just as I expected.”
She had, though she was still skeptical that he’d actually complete the project given the way he’d reacted to her placing a knife in his hand. Maybe he was ill, though he certainly looked fine now.
She watched him return the knife to its place and then reach for the glass of tea. Sawdust decorated muscled forearms and dusted the rolled up cuffs of his shirt. He’d even managed to gather a light sprinkle of sawdust on his forehead and across one tanned cheek.
Her fingers itched to swipe away the fine coat of poplar. Instead, she searched for a something to say. Something to get her thoughts back to a more appropriate topic.
“So …” She watched him drain half the glass of tea before finally sitting it back on the work table, “tell me about these horses of yours.”
“I’d rather show you. If you’ve got time, that is.”
She retrieved her phone to check the time and noticed to her relief that there’d been no more texts from Skye. “How far away are they?”
“About ten minutes to Mr. Jones’ place.”
“Bud Jones?”
He nodded. “Do you know him?”
“He and my daddy go way back, and his wife and I attend a book club together.” She paused. “But as much as I’d like to go see the horses you’ve bought, I just don’t feel comfortable getting that far out of town without Pansie.”
“Then let’s bring her.”
“She’s at Mother’s Day Out up at the church, so we can pick her up there.”
He glanced at his shirt and then back at Sessa. “I’ll need to clean up some. Just let me go grab my other shirt from the truck.”
“Sure.” A recollection of him cooling off at the barn rose. “I’ll just take our tea glasses inside and grab my purse.”
This accomplished, Sessa went outside to find Trey leaning against the passenger door of his truck. A pale blue button-down with pearl snaps had replaced his dusty shirt, and he’d combed the sawdust from his hair and must’ve washed his face from the outside tap. With his long legs still encased in faded denim and his boots scuffed from work, only someone who truly knew Trey Brown would suspect an accomplished surgeon lurked beneath this cowboy’s exterior.
Enough of that, she determined as she fumbled with her keys. She’d also had enough of the worries about people in Sugar Pine seeing them together. In just their short acquaintance, Trey had proven the kind of man he was. Far as she cared, they could drive right down Main Street waving at everyone.
After somehow managing to lock up and move Pansie’s car seat into Trey’s truck, she climbed into the passenger seat and allowed him to close the door for her.
Inhaling deeply of the scent of leather and something akin to pine, Sessa settled back in her seat to give him directions to the church. She watched him lope around the front of the truck, tucking any possible feelings other than friendship back where they belonged, deep inside her heart. Trey Brown was a nice man. A good man. And no matter what happened in the past, she’d be glad to count him as her friend someday.
Or as a nice memory who happened along at a time when she needed to find some closure with her son’s death. Getting the apology out had been a blessing. Having him not only receive it but offer one of his own had been more than she’d expected.
At times like this, she was hard pressed to forget that the Lord operated on His own time and in His own way. She’d certainly not have chosen for any of this to happen. Not like this. Not with her son.
“You okay?” he said as he buckled his seatbelt and then slid her a sideways glance.
“I’m fine.” And she was. Truly.
A few minutes later, she retrieved a sleepy Pansie and settled her into her car seat. Though Pansie managed a smile in Trey’s direction, she quickly snuggled into her blanket and fell back asleep.
“Looks like she’s a little underwhelmed,” Trey said.
“That girl loves her naps. Thank goodness. Old as I am, I don’t think I could keep up with her if she didn’t.”
Trey signaled to turn onto the main road. “I can’t imagine trying to raise a child at my age. How do you manage it?”
And that right there was the reason there couldn’t be m
ore than friendship between them, no matter that her stomach was full of swirling butterflies. Pansie was a fixture in her life.
“You just manage it,” she said. “When she came to live with me she was only a few weeks old. I had no idea what I’d do with her. I mean, of course there was no question I would take her in, but there were plenty of questions about how I would survive the first week.”
“I guess it was hard losing your son and gaining your grandchild all at the same time.”
“No, it didn’t happen like that. Pansie came first. Her mama showed up on my porch out of the blue and gave me until the next day to decide if I would keep her.”
Trey gave her a sideways look. “And if you hadn’t?”
“Skye couldn’t raise her. She was just a kid herself. If I hadn’t taken the baby, she would’ve been adopted out, I guess. Or ended up in foster care. Skye didn’t plan to keep her. She made that clear.”
“That’s a rough choice.”
“Not really,” Sessa said. “I applaud Skye for realizing she wasn’t capable of being a good mother to Pansie and having the good sense to do something about it. She told me she needed to get her act together and that Pansie didn’t deserve to wait until that happened.”
Trey nodded. “Still … that had to be difficult. For both of you.”
“You mean me and Skye?”
“No. You and Ross.”
Sessa gripped the door handle as Trey slowed to turn on the farm road that led toward the Jones ranch. “Far as I know, Ross never met his daughter. He might not have known he had one.”
“I see.”
“Which means Pansie can only have good thoughts about her daddy someday,” Sessa said. “Or at least that’s my hope.”
“You’ll raise her that way. She’ll know him through you.”
“I hope so.”
He slowed to allow the car ahead of him to make a turn. “You don’t sound so sure.”
“I’m not. Her mother has been texting me. She wants to see Pansie.”
“And you don’t want that.”
A statement, not a question. He understood.
Sessa let that sink in deep, allowed herself to really feel the sense of connection she hadn’t known since her first husband died.
“Does it sound terribly selfish to admit I don’t? Skye left that baby with me and never looked back. Or at least never kept in touch. Then two years later, she decides she’s got to see her daughter again?” Sessa realized her voice had risen and paused to glance back at the still-sleeping girl. “Pansie is hers, but she doesn’t know the child. I do. And I am afraid—”
“That she’s going to take Pansie away from you?”
All Sessa could manage was a nod as she blinked back embarrassing tears.
“That’s a rough one, Sessa. I mean, she’s the mother. What if she’s done what she said she would do and gotten her act together?”
“Why are you defending her?” Sessa snapped. “She is biologically that child’s mother, and nothing more. For her to come back now and disrupt the life we have together, how can that be the best thing for that child?”
“Maybe it’s not. But maybe it is.” He pulled over and shifted into park, then swiveled to face her. “Look, I know I am risking making you mad here, but your granddaughter is loved, Sessa. That much is obvious when I see you and her together. That’s a blessing you’ve given her. She won’t even know her dad. That’s what I’ve given her.”
The words struck Sessa in the heart. “And that’s a blessing, too.”
Trey looked away. “Don’t say that.”
“Surely you’ve heard what my son was like. You can’t imagine he would be a fit parent for her. So why would I think her mother would be fit, either?”
“Because she might be. Look.” He exhaled a long breath. “I’m no expert. I’ve never had kids, though I always wanted them. But you asked if you sounded selfish so I’m going to answer that. Until you know for sure whether that little girl’s mama is fit or not, you can’t decide she isn’t because you don’t want the disruption. To make that decision without knowing what kind of woman Skye is—that would definitely be selfish.”
Sessa’s temper flared. How dare this man say such a thing?
Because it’s true.
She sucked in a deep breath. It was. But how could he know her better than she knew herself?
Glancing up, she found him watching her closely. “I guess I asked for that.”
“You did. But then I probably should have warned you that, contrary to what the Harris County District Attorney’s office claimed about me, I can be brutally honest.”
“Yeah,” she managed. “So I noticed.”
“You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?” His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. “You don’t want to lose her because you’ve already lost her father.”
“And her grandfather,” Sessa said. “But yes, that’s it. And it’s selfish. I can admit that.”
He showed the beginning of a smile. “But what if you don’t lose that little girl when her mama comes back? What if you gain a daughter?”
She turned his words over in her mind. “What if?” she repeated as Trey pulled the truck back onto the road. “That might be nice.”
“Gwammy,” a sleepy voice called from the back seat. “Where are we?”
Sessa leaned around to look at her granddaughter. “Hello sleepy head. We’re going to see Dr. Brown’s horses.”
“I like horseys. Can we ride horseys today?”
“No, sweetheart,” Sessa said. “We’re just here to look at them.”
“I see horseys!” she exclaimed as Trey drove under the arch announcing the Jones Ranch.
Bud Jones came out to meet them as the truck came to a stop in front of the barn. “I see you brought company today, Dr. Brown. I didn’t know you were acquainted with our Sessa. And look here, I see Pansie.”
“Papa Bud!”
“Hey there, Miss Pansie.” He gathered the little girl in his arms. “What’re you doing here?”
“We came to see horseys.”
Trey reached over to shake Bud’s free hand. “I thought I’d show the ladies the two I bought.”
“Right this way then,” Bud said to Sessa. “Your friend there’s got good taste in horses. He talked me into selling my two best.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, you old goose.” Annette Jones waved from the back porch. “You know he paid you twice what you should have sold them for.”
Her teasing tone had them all laughing, which was a relief after the intensity of the conversation in the truck. For a few moments, Sessa was able to forget her worries about Skye. Annette joined them to take the short walk to the paddock.
“Which ones are they?” Sessa asked as Pansie scrambled out of Bud’s arms and into hers.
Trey pointed to a pair of Arabians grazing alone a few yards away. “What do you think?”
Sessa stared in wonder. “I think they’re beautiful.” So similar to the two horses she’d sold after Ben’s death. The memory hit her hard. “Just beautiful.”
“Beauty-ful,” Pansie echoed, causing everyone to laugh.
“Have you decided what you’re going to do with them?” Bud asked.
“I have, actually,” Trey said. “I’m going to board them at Sessa’s place.”
“Is that so?” Bud’s gaze swung from the horses to her. “Your daddy sure would be happy about that. You know these two were sired by Battalion, don’t you?”
“No.” She steadied herself by latching onto the fence with her free hand. “I had no idea.”
Trey was standing beside her now. “Who?”
She found him watching. “Battalion was one of the pair I had to sell when Ross was little.”
He smiled. “Then it’s appropriate that these two spend a little time in their father’s barn, don’t you think?”
Pansie wriggled out of Sessa’s arms and made a beeline for Annette. “Do you have cookies?”
Annette laughed. “I swear that little girl must think I carry them in my purse.”
“That’s because you do,” Bud said.
“Well, that’s the truth. Come on, Pansie,” she said. “I’ve got cookies in the kitchen, and milk too. Then we’ll see if we can catch one of those kitties you like to chase. Your Grammy can come fetch you when she’s ready to go. How about that?”
Sessa watched Pansie and Annette disappear inside the house and then turned back toward the paddock. Trey and Bud had walked to the barn, so she wandered back to the fence.
Now that she looked closely, she could see the resemblance the horses bore to Battalion. One of the pair looked over in her direction, and Sessa couldn’t resist. She stood up on the bottom rail just as she used to when she was a girl. Then she whistled once and clapped her hands three times.
To her surprise, both horses headed her way with a gallop. The lighter of the pair held back and stomped the ground just beyond her reach, but the other loped almost all the way to the fence before stopping just shy of knocking her down.
Sessa reached over the fence to scratch the Arabian behind his left ear. He nickered and presented the other ear to receive the same treatment. His companion inched toward her and nudged her with his muzzle until she paid him similar attention. Joy spiked. This. She’d missed this.
The darker of the pair rested his muzzle against her ear and whinnied softly, its sound almost like a sigh. Fix your hearts on what is true and honorable, what is right …
“Thank you, Lord,” she whispered. “For reminding me what right feels like.”
She continued to divide her affection between the two horses until Bud and Trey returned from the barn. “Want to ride, Sessa?” Bud asked.
“I wouldn’t turn down a chance. But I don’t want you to saddle a horse just for me.”
“It’s already done,” Trey said. “Come on.”
A few minutes later she was seated on another Arabian, this one also sired by Daddy’s favorite horse. They rode at a brisk pace as they covered the distance between the barn and the edge of the property. There was no need for conversation. The comfortable silence that stretched between them fit the day and the moment.
Firefly Summer Page 13
