by Brenda Mott
He let the screen door close behind him, but not before he noticed the startled look in Bailey’s eyes.
Well, at least she couldn’t accuse him of being dishonest.
Walking toward Windsong, he licked his lips, still tasting her, warm and sweet on his tongue.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BAILEY BIT into a slice of pepperoni pizza and tried to forget what Trent had said to her that morning. Which wasn’t easy, considering he was the topic of discussion at the moment.
Macy sat beside her on the porch steps. “Do you think he’d say yes?” she asked hopefully. She twirled a dangling string of cheese around her finger before plopping it on top of her pizza slice.
“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” Bailey said. “We’ll just ask him.” Why not? Trent had told her not to hesitate if she ever needed him for anything, and Macy’s request for Trent to be a guest speaker at her 4–H club meeting tomorrow seemed a reasonable one. A woman who owned cutting horses was supposed to come talk to the group and give a demonstration, but she’d fallen ill and had to cancel. Disappointed, the group’s 4–H leader was frantically searching for a last-minute replacement. Asking Trent was a safe, not-too-personal way to see him again.
Bailey knew she must be out of her mind even to consider him anything more than a friend. What on earth had come over her last night? He’d given her the perfect opportunity to tell him she thought it best that the two of them stop seeing each other. Instead, she’d opened a Pandora’s box. Her sensible side reminded her that exposing her emotions to Trent would lead to nothing but trouble, just as she’d told him. Yet she was so drawn to him she simply couldn’t resist giving a relationship with him a try.
He’d told her he’d never been one to run from trouble.
She’d never been one to back down from a challenge.
In fact, facing one always gave her a natural high, and meeting the challenge successfully never failed to fill her with a sense of accomplishment and power. Not to mention that she liked Trent and was deeply attracted to him. He’d practically dared her to give him a chance. She wondered how much of his attitude was pure bluff. She’d wager that he was just as apprehensive about what might happen between them as she was, but if he thought she’d back down first, he’d better think again.
“I hope he will,” Macy said. “Otherwise we’ll have to work on our record books.” She made it sound like torture.
“What are those?” Bailey asked.
“They’re notebooks where we record every single detail about our 4–H project. It’s like doing homework.”
Bailey chuckled. “Well, I guess we can’t have that.”
Macy plucked a slice of pepperoni from her pizza, held it aloft between thumb and forefinger, then curled her tongue around it. “So,” she said, chewing carefully, “can we go over and ask him after we finish our pizza?”
Bailey’s heart raced at the thought of seeing Trent. “Sure, honey, we can do that.”
A short time later, she and Macy headed across the pasture and ducked through the fence. Trent was in the round pen, halter-breaking a bay-colored foal. He looked up as they approached, and Bailey shivered at the expression in his eyes. He seemed glad to see her for once. Then his gaze fell on Macy, and like a shadow, his expression shifted.
A deep sadness filled his eyes, and Bailey perceived a wall rising between them, blocking from view what Trent must feel when he looked at the little girl who had once been his daughter’s best friend.
“Hi, Trent,” Macy called out.
“Hello.” His greeting was neither unfriendly nor warm. He kept his focus on the filly he led, then glanced at Bailey. “What’s up?”
She walked over and leaned against the fence, bracing one foot on the bottom rail. “I’ve come to take you up on that favor you offered.”
“What favor is that?” He continued to lead the filly around the corral.
Bailey frowned. “My, is your memory that short, cowboy? Wasn’t it only yesterday you told me if there was anything I ever needed, just to let you know?”
He grunted. “I suppose. So what is it you need?” His expression remained neutral.
She could have throttled him. Here we go again, she thought. Mr. Hot-Then-Cold. “Actually, it’s more of a favor for Macy.”
Trent halted in his tracks, gripping the foal’s lead rope. He faced Bailey, his eyes shadowed beneath the straw cowboy hat he wore, but there was no mistaking the look in them.
“What would that be?”
“The guest speaker who was supposed to talk at her 4–H Club meeting tomorrow canceled at the last minute. Macy would like you to address her group, instead, on the finer points of raising Arabian horses.”
He sighed visibly. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Bailey glared at him, determined not to back down. Whether he realized it or not, Trent needed to get out and socialize more. He’d had fun with her and Macy when they’d worked on the fence together. He would probably enjoy himself at the 4–H meeting. All he needed was a shove in the right direction.
“Please, Trent,” Macy begged. “If you don’t come, we’ll get stuck working on our record books.” Her blue eyes pleaded, and Bailey couldn’t see how Trent could refuse her.
“I’m sorry, Macy. I’m just not up to it.”
“Why?” Bailey repeated. “You look perfectly fine to me.” She gestured toward the filly and the rope he held. “Your wrist seems to have healed quite well, and addressing a group of eight-to-ten-year-olds is hardly strenuous.”
He clenched his jaw. “That’s not the issue. You know why I can’t do it.”
And he obviously knew she didn’t really believe his refusal had anything to do with a sprained wrist. But before Bailey could speak, Macy clambered up on the fence rail and hung there, her little face pinched with sorrow.
“I know why, too,” she said quietly. “It’s because of Sarah.” Her eyes clouded over. “You don’t have to explain, Trent.” She sighed in a very adult-like way. “If you could only know how bad I miss her. Sometimes my heart just feels like it’s going to crumble and blow away on the wind.” She swallowed. “Sarah was my best friend ever. Practically my sister. I don’t know why she had to go to heaven, and I hate it that she’s not here anymore. But I know she watches over me. And I know she wants me to ride my horse and have fun like the two of us used to.”
Macy clung to the fence and glanced down at the ground. “Though some days it’s just so hard not having her around to talk to, especially at the 4–H shows.” She looked up at Trent once more. “So if you don’t feel up to coming to the meeting tomorrow, I’ll understand. Really.”
Bailey nearly burst into tears. Jesus. She put her arm around Macy and gave her a hug. “I’m sorry, honey. It’s so awful to lose someone you love.” She brushed Macy’s bangs off her forehead. “Maybe I can help your group think of someone else.”
“No.”
The word came out so abruptly, for a moment Bailey thought she’d imagined Trent said it. She glanced at him and saw that his features had softened. Gone was the stoniness she’d seen moments before. In its place were genuine sorrow and empathy.
“I’ll do it,” he said. He led the bay over to the fence and reached hesitantly through the rails to pat Macy’s arm. “What time do you need me there?”
Bailey heaved a mental sigh and gave Trent a smile of encouragement. He didn’t smile back, and for an instant, guilt gripped her. Had she simply used Macy to manipulate Trent and interfere in his life? But the guilt quickly faded. Her intentions had been honorable, and she knew she’d done the right thing. After all, getting Trent to address the 4–H group would help Macy out, and it might do Trent some good, as well. What possible harm could come of it? Wasn’t it high time he got out and did something useful with his life? Shouldn’t he be glad that she cared enough about him to try to help?
But the look he gave her said he was anything but appreciative.
“We’re meeting
at the arena at nine in the morning,” Macy said. “Is that okay?”
“That’s fine,” Trent said quietly. “I’ll be there. Should I bring a horse?”
“Oh, yes.” Macy’s face lit with enthusiasm.
It was enough to clinch Bailey’s feeling that she’d done the right thing, Trent’s look notwithstanding. Macy needed some happiness to override the loneliness she often seemed to experience. Again, Bailey could relate to that.
“All right, then. I’ll bring a good one.” Trent stared pointedly at Bailey. “Now, if there’s nothing else… I need to get back to working the foals. Maybe we can talk more about this a little later.”
“Fine by me,” Bailey said, leveling her chin. “Come on, Macy. What say we go for a little ride.”
“Okay. ’Bye, Trent. See you tomorrow.”
Trent waved, the end of the lead rope threaded between his fingers. His eyes remained locked on Bailey.
She could practically feel his gaze burning a hole through her shoulder blades as she walked away.
THE NEXT MORNING, Bailey showered, dressed in jeans and a lavender tank top and plaited her hair in a French braid. Following the directions Camille had given her, she drove to the arena.
She’d spent the evening at Camille’s house last night, watching movies, eating popcorn and talking. Bailey brought Camille up-to-date on all that had happened between her and Trent and asked for her friend’s advice. Was she wasting her time with Trent? Would he ever decide that he could move on with his life? Or should she simply get out from being involved with him now, before it was too late and he broke her heart?
Camille had looked at her wisely. “Seems to me it’s already too late, girlfriend. You’ve fallen for the man, haven’t you?”
Bailey was afraid she was right. “God, is it that obvious?” She sighed. “I don’t know, Camille. Trent leaves me so confused. One minute I’m hopeful we could actually share a relationship and the next minute I’m frustrated that Trent seems to want nothing more than to be left alone. And maybe he really does want that.” She gave a short laugh. “I’ve been trying to tell myself my intentions were honorable in getting him to address Macy’s 4–H group, but now I’m not so sure.”
“What do you mean?”
Bailey dug into the bowl of popcorn. “Could it be I want him at the fairgrounds for selfish reasons?”
“Like…?”
“So he’ll begin to heal?” She pitched several kernels into her mouth.
“What’s wrong with that?” Camille frowned.
“Well, nothing, if I was thinking only of Trent. But I have to admit that a part of me is hoping he’ll find some way to recover from the loss of his little girl and be the kind of man I want him to be. The kind who wants a family.”
Camille shook her head. “I don’t think so, hon. You don’t seem like the ‘I’m gonna catch myself a husband’ type to me at all.” She chuckled, then squeezed Bailey’s hand. “What I do think is that you’re a kindhearted person who’d like for Trent to work through his grief, simply because you care about him. If you can help him do that, go for it. Afterward—well, just take it as it happens.” She shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he’s Mr. Right and maybe he’s not. But you won’t find out if you don’t give it a shot.”
Though she’d felt somewhat better after talking to Camille, Bailey still wasn’t certain she was doing the right thing. She’d already suffered enough rejection in her life. Opening herself up to more wasn’t exactly the smartest thing she could do.
Still, she’d come this far with Trent, and Camille was right. Bailey had fallen for him, her feelings growing the more they were together. Unless she was willing to cut things off with him right now, then she might as well hang in and give him a chance. After all, they really hadn’t known each other that long. Maybe she was simply trying to push things along too quickly. Could be she needed Trent every bit as much as he did her.
Bailey shivered. The thought of needing anyone scared her. While she wanted a family, she never again wanted to feel the hungry yearning she’d experienced as a child.
Her thoughts still racing a mile a minute, Bailey pulled her pickup into the fairgrounds and parked near Trent’s big black Ford.
His horse trailer sat behind it, and when she reached the bleachers facing the arena, she saw that he’d brought Shafana with him. With her dappled gray coat and silver-black mane and tail, the mare was one of Trent’s prettiest, in Bailey’s opinion. Taking a seat, she watched Trent demonstrate some of the unique qualities of the Arabian horse as he talked to the group of fifteen kids. He put Shafana through her paces, and again, Bailey was reminded of a cowboy-turned-sheikh.
Warmth crept through her. Trent was a very attractive, sexy man, and not only that, he seemed to be having a good time with the kids. She suddenly got a picture of what a wonderful father he must have been. Could he ever be one again?
When he’d first begun to address the group he’d been a bit reserved, but now, as he rode Shafana in a circle, then answered questions the kids threw his way, he looked relaxed and in his element. She hoped he was. She wanted him to learn to live again, for his sake as well as hers.
“Excuse me, Ms. Chancellor?”
Bailey faced the man who’d spoken her name. Lanky but handsome, he wore a short-sleeved western shirt and faded jeans, and a pair of boots and cowboy hat that looked as if they’d seen better days. His blue eyes stood out against tanned skin.
He sat down beside her on the bleachers and held out his hand. “I’m Wade Darland, Macy’s dad.”
“Oh.” Surprised, Bailey accepted the man’s handshake. “Nice to meet you.” Somehow, she’d never thought Wade Darland would bring Macy to her 4–H meeting. She’d figured Macy would probably ride with a friend, given that her dad didn’t spend a lot of time with her or her brother.
“I wanted to thank you for having Macy over to your place so often,” Wade said. “I hope she’s not making too much of a pest of herself.”
“No, not at all,” Bailey assured him.
He thumbed back the brim of his sweat-stained hat, revealing short-cropped brown hair. “I’m afraid I don’t get a lot of time to do fun things with the kids. Keeping up the ranch is a lot of work. But I do try to participate in their 4–H events whenever I can.” He nodded toward a tall, sandy-haired kid who stood near Trent’s horse in the arena. “That’s my boy, Jason, in the dark blue shirt. He’s just a year older than Macy, but he’s a lot of help on the ranch. Macy is, too. Still, with her being a girl, I don’t work her quite as hard as I do Jason.”
Bailey couldn’t help but bristle at his male chauvinism. She felt her eyes narrow involuntarily.
“Whoa, no offense toward the fairer gender intended,” Wade quickly added, smiling broadly as he held his hands up in surrender. “My hat’s definitely off to any woman who can come into a town like Ferguson and run the bank in the face of so much opposition.”
Bailey raised her eyebrows, startled by his unexpected compliment. “Thank you.”
“I know folks have had a tough time accepting some of your ideas,” Wade said. “But hang in there. They’ll come around eventually.” He glanced toward the arena once more. “Anyway, my kids miss their mom, especially Macy, and I’m much obliged to the attention you’ve shown her. She thinks a lot of you.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Bailey said. “I can assure you, the feeling is mutual.”
Wade nodded. “She’s a good girl, my Macy.” He smiled proudly, dispersing the last of Bailey’s impression of a negligent father. “Looks like they’re about to wrap this meeting up.” He tipped his hat. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Chancellor.”
“Likewise,” Bailey repeated.
She watched him walk across the bleachers, then turned her attention to Trent. He’d finished his demonstration, and a few of the kids stuck around to ask him further questions. Macy beamed proudly, obviously taking credit for having invited him to be their guest speaker.
Bailey smiled to hers
elf. Trent made quite a picture, standing in the arena surrounded by kids. She knew how hard it had to have been for him today, how it surely had brought back memories of his little girl and the things they’d shared.
Bailey chewed on her bottom lip and hoped she hadn’t made a mistake in coercing him here. That she might have caused him pain was too awful to contemplate. But if she’d been responsible for getting him to enjoy himself for a while with these kids, then the effort had been worth it.
She caught Trent’s gaze as he led Shafana onto the racetrack that circled the arena. Trying to read his expression was impossible. There was only one way to find out how he felt about today. Bailey headed down the steps of the bleachers and was about to walk across the racetrack when she spotted Lester Godfrey in the parking lot. He glared at her, then opened the car door to admit a boy who’d attended the 4–H meeting. Bailey hadn’t known that one of Lester’s kids was in Macy’s group. With a final dark look at her, Lester climbed behind the wheel of the car, slammed the door and drove away, his tires spitting gravel.
“If I’d known he’d be here, I might have invited him to stick around for a private talk.”
Bailey whirled around to face Trent, who stood behind her, clutching Shafana’s reins. His gray eyes smoldered with anger.
“There’s no sense in that,” Bailey said. “What happened is over and done with.”
“Maybe,” Trent said.
“What do you mean?” Her pulse picked up a beat, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the words he spoke or because of the way he looked in his snug Wrangler’s and black western shirt. The leather-and-sage scent of his cologne drifted her way, and the longing to slide into his arms and kiss him rocked through her.
“Lester’s not the sort of man to let the matter go that easy,” Trent said. “And I’m betting it didn’t sit too well with him that you drove his truck here today.”
