“You weren’t defending yourself yesterday when she popped over with cookies.”
“That’s right, cookies. Besides, would it have done any good? Your mind was pretty much set.”
“That woman has perfect timing,” Trish muttered, “showing up just when I arrived.” She rose, keeping her composure, and moved toward the crib to check on Meggie. The baby complained with a little cry and Trish stroked her head gently, then put the rattle back in her hand. Satisfied, Meggie gripped the toy and began shaking it again.
“It wasn’t planned. Truth is, I haven’t seen much of Suzy outside of Penny’s Song.”
Trish didn’t believe that. How could she? The woman had walked into Clay’s home yesterday like she owned the place. Like she belonged there, and Trish didn’t.
“The last time I saw you two together…” Trish struggled with the memory that had been the final blow to her marriage. “She showed up at our home when she knew darn well I would be out of town for the night.”
“She didn’t just show up. I invited her.”
Stunned, Trish blinked. What kind of lame admission was that? It was a low blow and her heart ached, again. She couldn’t forget how it felt that night walking into her home, hoping to mend her marriage only to find the two of them going behind her back, sitting on the sofa, all cozy-like, whispering and joking around, with wineglasses half-emptied. She’d felt like an outsider in her own home. She’d felt betrayed in the worst possible way. Suzy had usurped her position, looking smug when Trish found them together. It had been the last straw. Trish had raced upstairs and began packing her bags.
Their marriage had gotten difficult and Clay couldn’t handle it. Trish shouldn’t have been surprised because he’d done the same in his relationships with women who’d come before her and yet the injury stuck like a knife to her heart. She’d been foolish enough to think that what they’d had was different, real.
“And there you have it,” she finally said, boiling with anger.
Clay rose to his feet. His eyes narrowed and the muscle in his jaw pounded against his cheek. With slow calculated steps, he came toward her, his voice deep and uncompromising. “I don’t like being falsely accused. I’m clearing the air now, once and for all. Nothing happened that night.”
“You’ve never slept with her?” She barked her question.
“No.” He answered immediately with fierceness in his eyes that made Trish rethink her certainty.
“Have you kissed her?”
He stared at her, sucked in a breath and then looked away.
“You have!” There was no way to hide her accusation.
He snapped his attention back to her. “Damn it, Trish. You ran off and left me.”
“No one’s ever done that to you before.” His ego couldn’t take the blow. Or maybe he’d realized he didn’t love her anymore. Whatever the reason, Clay hadn’t tried to mend their marriage. He’d just accepted her decision and let her go.
“No, not really, but that’s not the point. You ran.”
“And you didn’t do a damn thing about it.”
Old feelings of rejection and abandonment had nearly destroyed her. All she’d wanted from him was some sort of halfway valiant effort to get her back. He’d made two phone calls. Two, that hadn’t gotten them anywhere. The sum total of their marriage hadn’t amounted to much. “You couldn’t wait to file for divorce.”
“You played a part in our breakup, in case you’re forgetting.” He sighed. “Either you believe me or you don’t about Suzy. But I wanted a fresh slate before we started working together.”
Trish couldn’t let it go. Not now. Not with this new information that Clay had never admitted to before. “Why did you invite Suzy over that night?”
Clay scrubbed his jaw, his way of stalling for time. “I needed her opinion about something.”
“That’s all?” She would’ve laughed if it wasn’t so darn serious. “That’s what you’re giving me?”
A wry smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “It’s something I wanted to give you—having to do with the Worth family heirloom.”
“The ruby necklace?” Astonished, Trish’s eyes widened. She’d heard tales about the necklace that had been in the family for generations. The ranch had been in the throes of ruination and would have crumbled if not for Chance Worth, Clay’s great-great-great-grandfather. Legend had it the necklace played a vital role in the ranch’s salvation and had brought Lizzie and Chance Worth together over one hundred years ago. Trish had never laid eyes on it. Clay had it locked away in a bank vault for safekeeping.
But none of this made any sense. She and Clay hadn’t been getting along. The last thing he’d do would be to gift a precious piece of family jewelry to a wife he wasn’t sure he wanted, a wife who refused to just have children whenever he snapped his fingers.
“Not the necklace, but a ring I was having made for you that would have matched.”
“Oh.” The confusion rushing through her was powerful and tipped her well-placed conviction on end. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
Clay leveled a gaze at her, making sure she understood. “I was royally pissed. Your accusations burned me. You should have known I wouldn’t—”
“How? How would I know that?” Trish wouldn’t back down.
“With you, it was different. I never wanted to marry any of those other women I dated. I married you and I thought you knew what that meant. Trust is trust. Either you have it or you don’t.”
He made it seem so easy, so uncomplicated, yet Trish knew it wasn’t. Having complete faith was something Trish had never been able to master in life. She’d been disappointed too many times to count. Hope did not spring eternal with her. “It’s not always that simple, Clay.”
He squared his shoulders, his voice low, filled with recrimination. “Sometimes it is, Trish.”
Meggie fussed in her crib and began to squirm around. Her baby’s patience was at its limit. She wanted out. Trish went to her. She needed the time to think, to let Clay’s revelation sink in. Not that it mattered anymore. She wasn’t sure she could believe him. And what did that say about their marriage?
She lifted Meggie out of the crib and nestled her to her chest. Meggie settled down, yet Trish had been the one comforted. Just by holding her. Drinking in her sweetness and listening to her little cooing sounds. The chaotic peace the baby lent her was unqualified. “I think we should go.”
Clay looked fit to be tied and unwilling to concede the point. “Let’s get out of here.”
Three
It was nothing short of a miracle.
Clay stopped his truck on a low rise that overlooked Penny’s Song. Trish squinted against the morning glare as they got out of the truck and focused on the little ranch below. A hum of accomplishment and intense pride prickled her senses. She felt the humming clear down to her toes as she leaned on the hood of the car. This had been their dream, together. It wasn’t a facade from an old Western movie set, but the real deal. Their vision had come alive right before her eyes. “Oh, Clay.”
“I know,” he said quietly. Nothing had been resolved between them, not that she expected it, but at least they had this. And it was something. She would have been by his side to see Penny’s Song come to fruition if she’d still been living here. If their marriage hadn’t fallen apart. But that wasn’t what mattered the most to her.
What mattered were the children who would benefit from Penny’s Song. In a small way or maybe even in larger ways, their lives would be forever changed by coming here. They’d have chores and jobs to do. They’d make friends from different parts of the country. They’d feel worthy of good health, working and building their bodies in ways that were natural and God-given.
She thought of her brother and how hard it had been for him after his recovery. When he went back to school, he’d been a fish out of water. He felt out of touch, unable to relate to his friends any longer. His normalcy wasn’t theirs and it had showed. A place like Penny�
��s Song would have helped him. He would have been with other children who were experiencing the same adjustment in their lives.
“It’s a work in progress,” Clay stated, his voice a deep rasp. “This being the first week and all.”
From this distance, the children looked like miniatures. She saw a few of them near the barn, a few by the corrals, and one little girl chasing a chicken. The buildings were colorful and brightly decorated, yet with an air of authenticity. She made out the general store and the saloon, a place designated for mealtimes. Kids would help set up the dining area, eat there and have KP duty afterward. The bunkhouse was a building set a ways apart, where the children and the counselors, otherwise known as the ranch foremen, would spend their evenings.
“How many are here this week?”
“Eight, so far. Ranging from seven to fourteen years old. Next week, we’ll have a dozen kids.”
Absently, she laid a hand on his forearm, overcome with emotion. Tears welled in her eyes and she fought them valiantly, but she couldn’t shake the notion that the creation of Penny’s Song had been the baby that she and Clay never had, the one thing that they’d both loved from conception. “It’s amazing, Clay.”
His gaze slid to the hand that touched him. She’d over-stepped a boundary and was ready to pull her hand away. But he placed his palm over hers and held it there. “Yeah, I can’t deny it’s a good thing.”
“Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes for a second. Comfort seeped in and her heart swelled. There was an overriding sense of peace that crossed between them, much like two parents watching their child take their first steps. They stood together on the hill, looking out at the charitable dude ranch they’d conceived together. For the moment, it felt right.
Meggie grumbled from the car seat, breaking the sacred moment, and Trish left Clay to check on her. He’d put the car seat in the back end of the Silverado’s cab and the baby, facing backward for safety’s sake, was fidgeting now, eager to get a move on.
He popped his head in from the front window. “She okay?”
“She’s fine,” she answered. “Just wants to be in on the action.”
“We should get moving then.” Clay bounded inside the truck and started the engine.
Trish took her seat and the baby quieted now that the truck was on the road. When they reached the entrance to Penny’s Song, Clay parked and cut the engine.
They began the tour at the general store with Clay holding the diaper bag and Meggie in Trish’s arms. The baby was intrigued with the bright colors and the ranch animals, but mostly by the children who had seen the purple-and-yellow flower child and wanted to meet her.
“This is Meggie,” Trish said to one little girl who’d run up to them just as they were exiting the general store. She bent to the girl’s level, noting her big expressive eyes and the new growth of golden curls covering her scalp. “She’ll be five months old soon.”
The girl smiled. “She’s cute.”
“What’s your name?” Trish asked.
“Wendy.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Wendy.”
Meggie reached out to touch Wendy’s freckled cheek. The girl chuckled and announced, “I’m going on eight. I live in Flagstaff. Is she sick?”
There was curious concern on the girl’s face. Trish glanced at Clay. His expression faltered. Although he made an effort to hide it, she saw the way his eyes narrowed and his body jerked a fraction of an inch. She wasn’t going down alone. Clay was just as affected as she was.
“Oh, no. She’s not. She’s…healthy.”
Wendy ripped Trish’s barriers to shreds and opened the wound that she’d lived with since Blake took sick. Children shouldn’t have to deal with illness. They should be free to enjoy their childhood without pain touching their lives. She shared a bittersweet moment with Clay, a wink in time, before returning her attention to the child.
A boy named Eddie walked up to see Meggie next and Trish made introductions all over again. Soon all eight of the children had left their chores behind to meet the baby. They were curious and the questions came fast and furiously. Trish didn’t mind answering them. She’d kept it simple. Yes, Meggie was her baby. No, Meggie didn’t have any brothers or sisters. Yes, she was from out of town. No, the baby couldn’t talk yet.
Her daughter kicked enthusiastically, responding to the children and the attention she received.
One by one, the children resumed their chores and Trish found herself alone with Clay again. “The saloon is really the mess hall,” he said as they headed there. “We’ve got the kids on mess duty. They don’t work, they don’t eat.”
“You old meany.”
“They like the idea. At least up until yesterday, they liked the idea.”
Trish smiled. “It’ll get old fast.”
“Maybe,” Clay said. “But life’ll come at them whether they are ready for it or not. It’s all a learning process.”
Wise words, Trish thought.
They were entering the saloon when Callie strode up behind them with a light charcoal baby stroller. Unisex coloring, Trish mused, with big rubber wheels that wouldn’t falter on the ranch’s rugged terrain.
“Well, what do you think of Meggie’s new ride?” Callie asked. “Tagg had to have all the bells and whistles.”
“Sounds just like my brother,” Clay teased. “He bought the four-wheel drive of strollers.”
Callie defended her husband. “You’d do the same, Clayton Worth. You know it.”
Clay acquiesced and nodded. “Just waiting for the chance.”
Trish froze at the reminder of how badly Clay wanted a family. He was older than her by six years, had had a successful career early in life and was oh-so-ready for children of his own. Trish was just beginning to feel secure in her own career and motherhood was the last thing on her mind. Their timing had been all wrong.
Callie turned her way and realizing the awkward situation, immediately changed the subject. “Let’s take Meggie for a test drive.”
“Gosh, Callie. Are you sure? It’s brand-new and—”
“I’m sure,” Callie said graciously. “Looks like I’m just in time, too. The little one looks sleepy.”
On the walk over to the saloon, Meggie had slumped heavily in her arms. She probably had jet lag. The commotion from the past few days had tired her out. “She is. She feels like lead weight in my arms right now.”
Callie worked at the latches on the stroller. “I’ll lower the seat down so the baby can nap.”
With that accomplished, Trish laid the baby on the pretty quilted material and strapped her in. Meggie seemed to enjoy her new cushy surroundings and Trish covered her with a lightweight knit blanket she’d pulled from the diaper bag.
“I can stroll her, if you’d like,” Callie offered. “It’ll give you time to see all of Penny’s Song uninterrupted.”
Trish inhaled a sharp breath. Her smile wavered. She hadn’t seen this coming. She and Meggie had been inseparable for the entire month. How could she let her go? Since Meggie had come into her life, she’d never had a babysitter.
No one else had watched her besides Trish. The responsibility weighed on her.
She’ll never know neglect. Not ever.
Trish took her role as mother seriously, but she knew she was being overly cautious, if not ridiculous, with Callie.
“Of…of course. You can take her for a stroll.”
Callie looked hesitant now and Trish cringed from making her feel awkward in her offer. She finally got her emotions under control and smiled graciously. “It’s a great idea.”
Callie smiled with relief. “I promise I won’t go far.”
“Have fun.” Trish kept smiling, but her hand covered her heart watching them go.
Clay sidled up next to her. “She’ll be fine with Callie.”
Mortified she was so obvious, she turned to Clay and sighed. “I know that…in my head.”
Clay’s lips quirked up at the corners and he touched
her elbow gently, giving it a tug. “You want to see the rest of this place?”
“Yes, yes, I do.” Distracted by his slight touch, she followed him as he led her on the rest of the tour.
Later that afternoon, Clay pulled the truck to a stop in front of the guesthouse. With one hand on the wheel and the other lazy on the console between them, he turned to her. “You made it through the day.”
She leaned against the headrest, feeling as tired as the sleeping baby in the car seat behind her. “It turned out even better than we’d expected, didn’t it?”
He drew in a breath. “Yeah.”
They’d toured the grounds and Trish had gotten a pretty good idea of how the operation worked. She’d been introduced to volunteer counselors who’d assumed roles as foremen on the ranch, the general store “clerk” and the cook, who was responsible for getting the meals prepared each day. Trish visited the stables where she met the string of mellow horses donated to the cause. She’d climbed on the corral fence, watching as Clay’s younger brother, Tagg, showed the children the basics of riding and Clay took her to see the tack room and stables the kids were expected to keep clean and tidy. Every child had a list of chores to get through with fun activities sprinkled in during the day.
Tonight they’d have a campfire and sing songs. Tomorrow a chili contest and a hay ride. Every minute of the day meant interaction with the other children and the adult volunteers. Many of the adults were local college students gaining community service experience or simply devoting their time to the charity of their choice.
Trish had a job to do here. It was her contribution to the cause and now she had the picture to go along with the words. She’d be a part of Penny’s Song for a short time and being here would help her plan a fundraising event to end all fundraising events.
“It’s already a well-oiled machine,” Trish said wistfully, enjoying the peace in the cab of the truck. With the baby sleeping, she took time to linger before going inside for round two with Meggie.
“We’ve got some kinks to work out, but yeah, it’s going pretty darn well.” Clay spoke with a twinkle in his eyes. Deliberately, she shifted her focus away, gazing out the windshield to the vast Worth pastures. Looking too deeply at her husband could be deadly to her sanity. When he was in a sentimental mood like this with no distractions, nothing to spoil the immediate moment—with just the two of them sitting calmly after a long day—Clayton Worth’s charm and appeal knew no rival. “The kinks will shake loose with time.”
The Cowboy's Pride Page 4
