The Cowboy's Pride

by Charlene Sands

  Trish sent up a silent prayer that her culinary skills wouldn’t disappoint. “I hope it turned out okay.”

  “He’ll have to fight me for seconds,” Clay said with a crooked smile.

  “Looks like you’ve already been in a fight.” Tagg scoured over Clay’s injuries with an assessing eye.

  Clay rubbed the back of his neck and released a heavy sigh. “To be honest, it felt that way yesterday. But this morning, I woke up feeling great.” Clay darted a quick glance her way and it was all she could do not to react. She willed her body to stay still. She kept her expression unreadable. It wasn’t an easy task. She’d wring Clay’s neck, adding to his injuries, if he made one mention of their night together.

  But luckily, the conversation changed to the latest cattle prices and Clay’s new car purchase. When Tagg exited the room to help Callie in the kitchen, Trish pulled a small blanket and soft foam baby book out of the diaper bag and put Meggie down on the floor.

  “I hear you bumped into Jackson today at Penny’s Song,” Clay said.

  Trish lowered herself to the carpet and sat in a tailor position with legs crossed to face Meggie. She gazed up at him. He leaned forward on the sofa, arms braced on his knees. “It was good to see him. Same old Jackson.”

  “Yeah, he doesn’t change.”

  “News travels fast,” she said. “Did he…did he tell you about the baby-stroller fiasco?”

  Clay’s lack of reaction gave her pause. He didn’t answer. He said nothing at all, and then it dawned on her. It wasn’t Jackson, but Suzy who’d relayed the information about their meeting.

  Trish let that sink in. Suzy had a direct pipeline to Clay and seemed to be in touch with him in one way or another every day. No doubt now, Clay had been informed about their meeting from Suzy’s perspective. “Never mind,” she said, shrugging it off. She wasn’t going to let Suzy Johnson ruin her evening. “It isn’t important.”

  Clay dropped down onto the floor. His musky scent filled her nostrils as he sat in the same manner beside her and picked up the baby book. “No, it’s not important.”

  He opened the book and pressed his finger to a chicken’s mouth on the first page. The book clucked and Meggie bounced with excitement, waving her arms and lifting in a little jump. She cackled her approval and Clay grinned. “So easy to make some women happy.”

  Stunned at his train of thought, Trish’s mouth gaped open.

  Clay leaned over and kissed it closed. His lips were warm and his touch was gentle. Trish was caught entirely off guard by the shocking beauty of this stolen moment. With Meggie looking on and his family in the other room, Trish couldn’t give way to protest even if the notion crossed her mind. Which it did not. Instead, she enjoyed the interlude and the delicious taste of him. When he broke off the kiss and pulled back, he gazed into her eyes with a mix of amusement and heat.

  “I’ve never been some women,” Trish said softly.

  Clay whispered near her ear, his voice a rasp of desire. “I know.”

  Callie’s voice came from just outside the parlor door. “Dinner is ready.”

  Trish pulled away from Clay, guilt washing over her. She felt like a schoolgirl being caught with a boy under the bleachers. But when she peered at Callie in the doorway, she didn’t seem to notice.

  Clay bounded up. “I’m starving.”

  He reached down and lent her a hand up. Trish took his outstretched hand and got to her feet, then straightened, but before she could reach for Meggie, Clay was there, scooping her up into his arms. “Ready?” he asked, the picture of innocence, holding the baby.

  Meggie seemed thoroughly enthralled with Clay. All of Trish’s good intentions to prevent the baby from bonding with him seemed to be falling by the wayside.

  Tonight especially, Trish was helpless to stop it.

  After dinner, the men went to the stables to check out Tagg’s stallions while Callie and Trish stayed at the dining table. Trish enlightened Callie with the small bit of knowledge she had about motherhood and babies. But Callie had assured her that all of her insight was valued. She hadn’t asked hard questions, but rather tapped into her experience with baby bottles, bath time, sleep issues and immunizations. All things Trish had already gone through with Meggie.

  “She’s due for another round of immunizations when we get back home,” Trish said. “I keep a running record in a file to make sure I don’t miss anything.”

  “That’s good to know…but—” Callie didn’t finish her thought. Her lips pursed in hesitation. She was holding something back.

  “You look puzzled,” Trish said.

  Callie shook her head. “It’s just…well. Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

  Trish sent Callie a glance, thinking better of bringing up the subject, but compelled to do so anyway. “You’re wondering about my relationship with Clay.”

  Her return to Red Ridge was probably the talk of the town, so Callie’s question wasn’t a surprise.

  “You said you were going home, but I couldn’t help notice the way you look at Clay.”

  Trish understood immediately and the explanation fell easily from her lips. “You’re married to a Worth. You know the drill. They are charming when they want to be and very easy on the eye. But it’s complicated with me and Clay.”

  “Tagg and I had similar issues. We were able to resolve them.”

  Trish glanced at the hand Callie laid over her growing belly. The baby bump meant new life grew there, a Worth child. It was monumental. “You have a baby coming. Babies can bring a couple together. Or they can tear them apart. That is, if one is ready and the other isn’t.”

  “But now you have Meggie.”

  “Yes, but she isn’t Clay’s.” She added softly, “The baby isn’t a bargaining chip.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean that—”

  Trish laid her hand over Callie’s and squeezed gently. “I know you didn’t. It’s just that what went wrong with my marriage hasn’t got anything to do with Meggie. I’m here for a short time. I will go back to Nashville and resume my life there. Anything between Clay and me would be pointless and well, frankly, too hard to deal with. I’ve already had my heart broken once.”

  “Trish, I’m so sorry. I guess I figured if Tagg and I could work out our problems, then maybe you and Clay could, too. Selfish of me to hope for that. I’d love to have a sister-in-law on the ranch. I’d love it if we became close friends. And Meggie,” Callie said with true affection, “would be part of the family.”

  A nice dream in a perfect world.

  Trish reassured her. “We’ll always be your friends.”

  Callie nodded as if she understood completely, but then she lowered her voice. “You know how you look at Clay? Well, he looks at you the same way.” Callie’s lips formed a brilliant smile. “Sorry, but I just had to say it. And now I’ll shut up.”

  Trish’s eyes widened and she joined Callie in a smile, but with a serious shake of her head.

  When the men came back in, Callie served dessert. The lemon chiffon cake turned out better than Trish could have hoped. Tagg and Clay ate two big slices with compliments to the chef. Once dessert was finished, Trish was ready to get Meggie and herself off to bed. It had been a long eventful day and all things considered, not a bad one after all. She really enjoyed getting to know Callie and spending time with Tagg. As long as she remembered why she’d come to Worth Ranch, she’d do fine.

  Holding the baby in one arm, she reached over with the other arm to give Callie and Tagg a hug. “Thanks for a delicious meal and good company.”

  “I should be thanking you for letting me pick your brain,” Callie said. “Just seeing Meggie in action makes me anxious for our little one to arrive.”

  “Me, too.” Tagg kissed Callie on the cheek and then turned his megawatt smile on Trish. “Will you give Callie the recipe for that cake?”

  “I sure will.”

  Callie bumped Tagg’s side with a deliberate and gentle swing of her hips that he did
n’t seem to mind at all. “He’s always thinking of his stomach.”

  An arm came around to pull Callie in. “I’m always thinking of your stomach, although mine is humming a happy tune right now.”

  Trish looked on smiling. “Well, I’d better get the baby to bed.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Clay said, resolute, gathering up the diaper bag. There was no point in refusing, Clay was already nearing the door. His determined look had Trish feeling a little wary. She waited as he thanked his sister-in-law for the dinner, then he shook his brother’s hand.

  Outside, spring breezes whipped Trish’s hair away from her face. Tagg’s house sat at a higher elevation than the main house along the base of the mountain where the air was fresher and crisper. A moonlit stream interrupted the stark darkness as they ambled toward the cars together, Meggie wiggling in her arms. She rubbed her eyes with balled fists.

  “She looks tired,” Clay noted.

  “She is. She had a busy day.” On a sigh, Trish confessed. “We both did.”

  Clay spoke in a low voice. “I need to talk to you.”

  “We need to discuss the divorce. We’ll reschedule.”

  “Not about that.” The muscles in his jaw flinched. “It’s about the fundraiser.”

  By then, they’d reached her car and Clay carefully took Meggie out of her arms while she fished for her keys. She opened the door wide and turned in time to see Meggie’s head come to rest against Clay’s chest. Trish heard his breath catch as Meggie curled her chubby body right into his. He splayed his hand over her back securing her position, tucking her head under his chin. Stroking her hair with a light touch, he stood there for a moment simply holding her.

  Meggie was becoming more and more familiar with Clay. She responded to his gentle manner and confidence with unwavering trust the way a daughter would her father. It was what Trish most feared. She didn’t want them to bond. She didn’t want Meggie to feel any loss when they left Arizona. Heaviness centered in Trish’s chest and a twinge of what could have been flashed before her eyes, watching the two of them together.

  Clay seemed to read her thoughts and the moment was wrought with unspoken regret. “I’ll put her in now,” he said finally.

  Trish nodded with a whispered, “She’ll probably be out like a light soon.”

  Clay made sure Meggie was safely fastened in the car seat and then rose to meet her gaze. “We’ve got a dinner appointment tomorrow night with the manager at the Ridgecrest Hotel. The place is new, on the outskirts of town and as you know, they’d volunteered their main room and offered a big discount on catering services for the gala.”

  Trish blinked at the way Clay casually made that announcement. “I’m still trying to get past the ‘we’ part. Why did you make an appointment without consulting me first?”

  On a casual shrug, Clay answered, “It was a last-minute thing. There are loose ends that need tying up. The manager prattled on about the gala’s theme and decorations. I don’t know a darn thing about that stuff.”

  That much was true. Clay knew how to rope a steer, soothe a ruffled employee’s nerves and keep his empire running smoothly, but he had no skill in setting up an event like this. That was her department. She could organize a fundraiser like this with one hand tied behind her back. “But can’t we meet with him during the day?”

  “He was adamant about tomorrow night.”

  Trish frowned. “It’s just…Meggie. She goes to bed, well, at this time of night. You see how tired she is now. She’ll be cranky and I won’t be able to focus on business.”

  “Then we’ll bring Helen along. She can watch her for an hour or two.”

  Trish mulled that over. “What time is the appointment?”

  “Eight o’clock.”

  Clay’s solution was viable. Trish might not have been so easily persuaded if she hadn’t had second thoughts about how the fundraiser should be handled. Working at Penny’s Song today brought a clearer understanding of their mission. She’d seen the facility with a new pair of eyes and ears, witnessing the interactions between the volunteers and children. She would have to discuss this with Clay first, but Trish knew a better way to raise money for the charity than a luxurious gala set in a hotel. She knew what would tug at people’s heartstrings as well as their purse strings.

  “Okay, then.” With a snap of her head, she’d made her decision. “If it needs doing, we’ll get it done.”

  Clay’s lips curved up and a devastating smile reached his dark eyes.

  “Why are you grinning like a silly fool?”

  He didn’t look like a silly fool—he looked one-hundred-percent male and gorgeous to boot. Wicked thoughts crowded her mind.

  “You’re sexy when you’re all business.”

  “I…am?” Floored, she leaned heavily against the opened car door. This reminded her of when they were first dating. Clay would undress her with his eyes, explaining how her sharp wit turned him on. Whenever she’d talked business with him in all seriousness, he’d find a way to strip her of her acumen and her clothes.

  “Yeah, you are.” His eyes darkened to black pools and the smile that wasn’t silly at all, shifted to something dangerous. He took a predatory step toward her and Trish wasn’t strong enough to move away. What could he possibly do in front of his brother’s house?

  A lot, she found out soon enough.

  He tipped her chin up with his thumb and brought his face close, so close that she could see the ink-black rim of his irises, so close that the seductive gleam in his eyes set her heart racing, so close that his warm breath fanned her cheeks. He dipped his head. Their eyes met. He made her wait. Then he kissed her, with the slightest teasing touch of his mouth.

  That first brushing of their lips was tender and warm and just what she’d needed after a long, tiring day. When it came to matters of the flesh, Clay had a sense of when to go hot and when to simmer.

  The simmering could be just as deadly.

  His hand went to her cheek and he stroked her with the backside of his fingertips. Her body inched closer, absorbing the comfort and the heady sensation of being touched with such care. His lips came over hers again with the same degree of tenderness and feathery ripples of desire floated through her body. There was no demand, no pursuit of control in his kiss. Trish was defenseless against this tactic. She fell further and further, deriving immense pleasure from the scent of musk and man surrounding her. He moved his lips ever so slightly on hers with a mastery that elicited a thrill from the depths of her belly. Inches separated them and Trish found herself being pulled by a subtle force that belied her own stubborn resistance.

  Clay on the other hand, was controlled and sweet, if she could describe such a rugged man that way.

  She was tempted to fit herself to him, to feel the strong planes of his body and wrap herself into the comfort of his muscular arms. She wanted to be pressed skin to skin with him, and that feeling wouldn’t go away.

  His hand traveled down the hollow beneath her chin to her throat. She pulsed there and in every other erogenous zone she possessed, waiting, wanting. His index finger touched where she throbbed frantically and the world stopped as he took a deep inhalation of breath.

  Turmoil sped through her system. She wanted him. But other forces held her in check, forces he could easily overturn. But he made no such demands of her. He only kissed her gently one last time.

  Then he pulled away.

  She witnessed the exact moment of his mental retreat, the sizzling gleam in his beautiful eyes slowly diffusing.

  “Get some sleep,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  The lump in her throat she swallowed past was pride. She could only nod and watch him saunter away. He opened the door to his truck and waited until she got in the car and started it up, before his engine roared to life.

  Trish drove home with Clay’s headlights reflecting in her rearview mirror.

  When she turned onto her drive, his truck kept going, moving down the road to th
e main house.

  “That was close, baby,” she whispered, her heart in her throat.

  She didn’t understand the tears that stung behind her eyes.

  Or maybe she did, and that was why her heart ached so badly with disappointment.

  Six

  Clay opened the door to his new Mercedes sedan gesturing with a sweep of his hand for Trish to get in. Petal sleeves fell from her shoulders in a flow of soft pink as her summery dress nudged at her knees. Matching heels brought her up several inches to meet his eyes, and the whole package as Trish stood there beside him put his luxurious car to shame. Damn, but his wife cleaned up nicely. He’d done the same, trading in his ranch attire for dark trousers and a white silver-studded shirt. He wore a black Stetson and polished boots.

  Trish didn’t seem to notice him or the car.

  Turning, she glanced at the front door one last time, nibbling on her ruby glossed lips. Her brows gathered together like storm clouds.

  “Go on and enjoy your evening,” Helen called from the doorway. “The baby will be fine.”

  Trish took a swallow. If she were going to her own execution she couldn’t have looked more forlorn. She cast Helen a sick smile and then spun slowly around.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  Her head bobbed absentmindedly. “I think so.”

  Clay grinned. “Then jump in.”

  Trish wasn’t doing any jumping tonight. Every move was slow and deliberate. “Oh, okay.”

  He took her sweater and purse from her hands and helped her into the front seat. She cast a longing look at the front door. Helen gave a final wave of encouragement and disappeared inside the house.

  Once he was behind the wheel, he turned to her. “Well, what do you think?”

  “What do I think about what?” She looked at him, puzzled.

  Distracting her wasn’t easy. “My new ride.”

  “Oh.” She took in the buttery almond leather seats and the dashboard that sported more buttons than a jet’s cockpit. “It’s nice. Different than what you usually drive.” Then she glanced around really taking a good look. She swiveled her head to the back. “It’s roomy. Are you out of the sports car phase?”