Trish turned this way and that gazing critically at herself one last time, wondering if it was all a little too much.
You want sex, Clay had said, the last time she’d dressed up for him. And he’d been right. But this time, much more was at stake. She wanted it all. And if Clay didn’t see fit to give it to her, Trish would know right then what her future would look like without him.
“Well, here goes,” she said to Meggie.
The baby smiled from her crib, revealing two white buds coming up on her bottom gums. Soon she’d have a mouthful of teeth, but right now those little specks of white looked better than two-carat diamonds.
With Helen’s help, she’d dressed the baby in a soft pink ruffled taffeta dress that reached a little below her knees. Her socks were pink, too, and were trimmed with white lace that matched her shoes. Trish put a pink headband bow in her hair and this time, Meggie didn’t try to yank it off. The baby seemed to sense something exciting in the air.
“Thanks again for coming with us today,” she said as Helen approached the bedroom. “I’m going to need reinforcements with Meggie.”
“You’ve got a lot to do tonight. Don’t you worry about Meggie. I’ll take great care of her.”
“I know you will,” Trish said. “And Blake will help, too.”
Helen’s brown-sugar eyes softened. “You two look pretty enough for a princess ball.”
Amused, Trish gave a little chuckle. “I think Meggie would make a great princess. Just look at her, she loves dressing up.” Then Trish wrung out her hands. She couldn’t stall any longer. She’d spent the entire morning at Penny’s Song, running around like a madwoman, bypassing Clay several times, while issuing orders and double checking everything. Now hours later, it was finally time to see this through to the end. “Oh, boy. This is it, isn’t it? Time to go?”
Helen came over to lift Meggie out of the crib. “It’s time.”
A great deal was riding on tonight. Trish prayed for a happy ending. This was her last chance.
Clay parked the car fifty feet from the little ranch and leaned against the hood of his Mercedes for a second, tuxedo jacket slung over his shoulder. Peace and quiet surrounded the land. Not a soul was out. Occasionally, a horse would nicker. In half an hour Penny’s Song would bustle with activity and the ranch would come alive. But right now, the children were bunking down and resting before the activities began and Clay absorbed the silence. A deep sense of pride and honor seeped in and he welcomed it. He knew his father would be proud.
The transformation of Penny’s Song from rugged ranch to elegantly appointed gala might have bowled him over if he hadn’t been in on Trish’s plan from the very beginning. It was all going to start a little before sundown. There was nothing like sunset at Red Ridge. Even the weather was cooperating. Cooling easterly breezes, enough to ruffle your hair and lift your shirt, freshened the air. Soon the horizon would burst forth in an orange-red haze, forming a shimmering halo atop the crimson mountains beyond.
Fancy tables with white linens and clear flower-filled glass boots sat front and center on the widest part of the street between the bunkhouse and general store. The tables were supported underneath by a vast wooden floor. When the sun set, twinkle lights would blink on and fill the entire little ranch with wonder and awe, but first Trish wanted Penny’s Song to be seen as is, in glorious fading daylight.
Air whooshed out of Clay’s lungs in a deep pensive sigh. Tagg’s parting shot in the stables today stuck in his head and only now, while he was engulfed in peace, did he give the statement credence. “Don’t be an ass. If you have any doubt in your mind, don’t let them go.”
Clay didn’t want to hear it. He’d blocked out his brother’s comments. But in the end, it hadn’t helped. He’d been saying the same thing to himself for the past week.
Don’t let them go.
Wes appeared on the street, then Preston and Suzy and several others from the medical volunteer team. The kids came out of the bunkhouse, one at time, meandering, looking at the set tables and decorations that Trish had arranged. Their excited faces were just one more layer of pride to add to his thick skin. Clay met some of the kids, showed them around and told them to just be themselves when meeting the visitors.
“This is exciting, Clay,” Suzy said, her eyes glowing. “You clean up real nice. The tux looks great on you.”
Clay pulled at his bola tie and sent her a crooked smile. He was ordered to wear it by Trish. She’d been right, wearing black tie gave the gala the elegant contrast it needed against the backdrop of pasture smells and dirt underfoot. “You do, too. Pretty dress.”
Suzy sent him a dazzling smile. “Thank you.”
“The place looks amazing,” Wes remarked as he strode by.
Heath, an eleven-year-old boy with a knack for grooming horses, ran up to him and announced, “Mr. Worth, I like those boots on the tables!”
“Hey, yeah. Pretty cool,” Preston added, putting a hand on Heath’s shoulder.
“I had nothing to do with it,” Clay said with a wink. “You can tell Mrs. Worth when she arrives.”
Everyone got busy and Clay walked over to the saloon to speak with the catering chef. When he came out, Penny’s Song was starting to buzz. The gates to the ranch had opened ten minutes ago and a small crowd of people were approaching after parking their cars and trucks in a cleared field. Several limousines pulled up, along with town cars.
He stood in the middle of it all looking on, sheltering a hollow ache in the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t done this alone. This vision had been Trish’s, too, and she’d made this evening come alive. He searched the grounds for her, wanting to see her reaction, wanting to share this with her.
And then he spotted her.
She’d parked her Volvo behind the east corral, in a special section closer to the ranch than the other parking areas. He watched her lift Meggie into her arms. The baby clung on, her bright eyes absorbing the scene, a bundle of pink fluff against Trish’s radiant silver gown. His wife’s honey-blond hair was swept to one side of her head, spilling into a soft caress on her shoulder. The shimmery dress she wore hung on to her body for dear life.
The two stood there for a moment, mother and daughter, each of them stunning in their own way. Each of them filling up the hole in his heart.
A shudder ran through his body and made him twitch. Clay’s stomach roiled and pitched like a boat adrift in the perfect storm. He staggered, physically moved by the reaction. There wasn’t anything he could do but stand there, try to keep his balance and watch them. Smacked with a wall of reality, his breathing went shallow.
Trish and Meggie belonged with him.
They were his family.
He’d known it for days now but refused to face the truth.
Tagg had been right. He couldn’t let them leave.
Hell of a time to discover it. The crowd was swarming in now and he had an agenda to follow. His boots hit the path and he headed their way. By the time he’d reached them, Helen had Meggie in the stroller and Blake had stepped up. Jackson, Callie and Tagg joined them and he was surrounded by his clan, offering congratulations and pats on the back.
Trish had a wide smile for him, her eyes incredibly blue with excitement. “Look at it, Clay. It’s working. The kids, they’re interacting with the guests. They’re showing them the ropes and the adults are eating it up.”
It was true. Already the children and volunteers were gathered in little groups, showing the early arriving guests what they’d learned, doing mini demonstrations and giving out tokens. Trish had “adult” gifts ready in the general store for the guests. But they had to earn their tokens first by visiting certain areas of the ranch and in some instances, partaking in events.
“Yeah, your hard work is paying off.”
“Not just me,” she said. “Everyone has worked hard at Penny’s Song. I only put this evening together. The rest of them keep it running all week long.”
He strode alongside her and the
others as they chattered about Penny’s Song, pointing out locals they knew or children they’d met this week. Even Meggie was enthralled.
Clay cursed his bad timing. All he wanted to do right now was tell Trish she looked gorgeous. He wanted to hold her in his arms. He wanted to ask her to stay.
They reached the center of town and Clay got her alone for a second, away from Blake, Helen and the baby. He stared into her eyes. “I need to talk to you tonight. After the gala. I’ll come by the house.”
Trish’s mouth rounded to a silent O. Then her eyes darted away quickly. “I know. We have to talk.” Resignation rang in her voice, but before Clay could explain that it wasn’t about the divorce, a hearty slap to his back brought him up short. Annoyed, he turned, recognizing Harold Overton, a big-time oilman from Texas, smiling at him. “Hey, Clay, how’re you doing?”
“Fine, Harold. Good to see you here.” Clay shook the man’s hand.
“I flew up from Houston just because you asked.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I’d like to see this place firsthand.”
“Sure, sure. But first, let me introduce you to—” Clay spun around but Trish was no longer by his side. She’d been whisked away by three local women who were yakking nonstop.
“Never mind. My coconspirator of this foundation is busy at the moment. Let me show you around.” Clay led the head honcho of the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo on a personal tour of the facility.
It was like that most of the evening, Trish and Clay barely getting in a few words together before one of them was taken away to tend to business or some minor crisis on the grounds.
The Ridgecrest Resort Hotel staff served appetizers on silver platters as day lent itself to night. Slowly the guests took their seats as pinpoints of light lit the entire area. Rumor had it Trish had commissioned ten thousand twinkling lights to be strung up to shower the little ranch with illumination. They were everywhere, draped along the corral fences, outlining the outer buildings and wrapped around the bases and branches of the trees. Penny’s Song sparkled from the ground up.
The daytime bustling ebbed to a subtle hum of voices. And before dinner, Clay found Trish and escorted her toward the podium set in front of the general store. It was the first time he’d touched her tonight. His hand was gentle on her bare back, though a possessive wave of pride filled his chest. Then he wound his hand around her waist splaying his fingers over her hip and brought her closer as they walked side by side to greet their guests.
“I want to thank you all for coming,” he began, speaking into a microphone. “Hopefully, the last hour has shown you a little bit of what we do here at Penny’s Song. My wife, Trish,” Clay said without pause, noting her slide him a sideways glance, “is partially responsible for the idea behind our facility, but she gets full credit for tonight’s gala. This was all her idea. Are you having fun?”
Applause broke out and Clay nodded his approval. Trish beamed. “Now, I’ll let Trish say a few words.”
Trish took the mic and spoke a little about her brother, Blake, and then relayed stories about the other special children she’d met at the facility. She explained how working here these past few weeks had enriched her life. How this aspect of recovery, trying to filter children back into society, had been overlooked up until now and how Trish hoped that more and more facilities like Penny’s Song might be developed.
Clay took over from there, introducing a few parents whose children had benefited from Penny’s Song and their testimonials were short and sweet.
“I hope after dinner, you all stay for campfire songs over by the corrals. We’ve got bleachers and chairs set up. Maybe indulge in s’mores and roasted nuts.”
And later, once the meal was over, a big, crackling fire was built in the clearing. The adults gathered around as the children taught them campfire songs. Everyone had smiles on their faces and it did Clay’s heart good to see how well the gala had turned out.
After the campfire, Clay stood alone by the stables watching the guests depart. One hundred contributors had written checks to keep Penny’s Song afloat for the year. With Worth backing as well, Clay had no doubt they’d do fine. But his mind wasn’t solely on fundraising tonight. It was on Trish and what he’d say to her. How he’d formulate the words when he went over to the guesthouse to pour out his heart.
Deep in thought, he didn’t hear Suzy approach, crying hysterically, until she was inches from his face.
“It’s my father, Clay. It’s bad. It’s bad.” The panic in her voice woke him out of his stupor. “He’s had a heart attack,” she cried. Makeup-smeared tears spilled down her cheeks and smudged her face. Desperately, the words tumbled out in a rush. “I just got the message. They’ve been trying to reach me for an hour. They say he’s barely holding on. I should get there quickly. Oh God, Clay. Oh God, what am I going to do?”
Clay wrapped her in his arms and shushed her crying. He scanned the area, for a second, but the cleanup crew had come in to break things down and the grounds were in chaos. He couldn’t find Trish or anyone else he recognized. He hugged Suzy to him and began walking to his car. “Don’t worry, Suze. It’s gonna be all right. I’ll take you to him right now.”
Clay ran his hands down his face. Day-old stubble lay underneath his palms, but he didn’t give a damn. His head, though, hurt like a sonofabitch and he wished to high heaven the throbbing would die down. He’d been awake for twenty-eight hours straight, having gone with Suzy when her father was airlifted to Phoenix last night. Once back home, he’d settled Suzy down and tucked her into bed, then drove to the guesthouse at breakneck speed. Trish hadn’t answered her phone all night.
He knocked at the door, impatient. “Trish.”
Thankfully, he heard footsteps approach. A deep sigh of relief escaped and even though it wouldn’t be the flowery confession he’d planned, she was here and they could talk.
The door opened and his mouth dipped into a frown. “Blake.”
“Hello, Clay.”
Clay craned his head past Blake to look inside the house. “I’m here for Trish. Is she home?”
Blake’s expression faltered and he drove a sharp breath into his lungs. “No, she’s not here.”
“Where did she go?”
Blake’s eyes softened with sympathy and an uneasy feeling poked Clay in the gut. “She went home. Back to Nashville.”
“What?” Clay rocked back on his heels. He had trouble controlling the pitch in his voice. “Already? She wasn’t due to leave until tomorrow.”
“I know. Come in, Clay. Have a seat. We need to talk.”
Clay strode past Blake and refused his offer to sit down. “Why the hell did she leave early? And why are you here?”
“I’ll answer the second question first. I’m here because I owe it to my sister. I’m here because I knew eventually you’d show up and you need to hear a few things about Trish.”
“What do I need to hear? She couldn’t wait to get out of here,” Clay said angrily, but he wasn’t sure who deserved his wrath more, him or her. He’d been too late and now his wife was gone. He felt the loss immediately in the pit of his stomach.
Blake didn’t disagree. “Yes, that’s true. She left very early this morning.”
“Well, hell.”
“Yeah, she’s been through that, too.”
Clay snapped his head up and stared at Blake. “What does that mean? How has she been through hell?”
“Sit yourself down.” This time it was an order. “I’ll get us some coffee and then I’ll explain.”
Clay didn’t have it in him to argue. He was still trying to deal with Trish leaving the ranch. Meggie was gone, too. He squeezed his eyes shut. Damn. Damn. Damn. They were both gone, out of his life. He sat on the sofa and when Blake shoved a cup of coffee onto the glass table, he grabbed it and took a gulp.
Blake took a seat in a chair that faced him. “She saw you leave with Suzy last night.”
Clay shook his head quickly a
nd the pain was like a knife twisting in his skull. “It’s not what you think. Suzy’s dad had a heart attack. I took her to the hospital. He was critical and needed the best medical attention. He was airlifted to Phoenix. Suzy was hysterical and begged me not to leave her alone. I went with her. And I’m glad I did because her father died last night. He was a friend, Blake. And I had a choice to make. I couldn’t leave Suzy’s side, but I called Trish the very second I could to explain. She didn’t pick up. I left several phone messages last night.”
“My sister said you wanted to talk to her after the gala. Then she saw you taking off with Suzy. She was very upset and too heartbroken to listen to your excuses. Her words, not mine. She figured the marriage was over and you’d made your choice. She was really hurt, Clay. I couldn’t talk her out of leaving this morning.”
Blake walked over to a side table, bringing back a stack of papers. “And she signed these.”
He handed them over. Clay didn’t have to look at them to know they were the final divorce papers. He rubbed his forehead, his thumb and forefingers pulling tight the skin there. He let go a few choice curses and then looked at Blake. “I don’t want this.”
“I figured as much. But you have to understand about Trish. She was always the one getting dumped on in our household. I was ill for most of my childhood, but Trish was the one who paid the higher price. She was never put first. My parents catered to me. They had to, to keep me alive. They spent all their spare time with me, taking me to specialists, keeping me company during my hospital stays, giving me attention when they thought I was depressed. They had no time for Trish. And I saw it happening, but I was too young to realize how it would affect my sister later.
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