Читать книгу The Cowboy's Pride - Charlene Sands - Страница 8

A tick worked in Clay’s jaw as he strode silently beside her. Every so often his gaze would shift to the baby Trish held in her arms, otherwise he kept his focus toward the guesthouse that lay fifty yards away from the main house. Trish was too tired to deal with his sour mood right now.

Granted, she hadn’t been his wife in the real sense in over a year, but you’d think he’d inform Suzy Johnson to stay the hell away until the ink on the final divorce decree was dry. But that was Suzy, always cheery, always showing up uninvited and always bearing treats.

Trish bristled. The sooner she signed those divorce papers the better.

She turned her thoughts to more pressing matters. Getting Meggie settled and comfortable was her first priority. Trish was an avid planner. She banked her livelihood on her organizational skills. She made lists. She set goals. She could plot out her future months in advance. It was the main reason she’d been successful as a publicist. She had a knack for scoping out musicians’ careers long-range and took great pleasure in seeing them come to fruition.

But she had no plan for motherhood. None. She was learning the hard way that babies didn’t do schedules. They couldn’t be predicted. Their needs were ever-changing and she would be the one adapting, not the other way around.

Every day brought a new challenge. Every day was different, unplanned and unorganized. It was a whole new learning curve for her.

When they reached the entrance, Clay unlocked the door and allowed her entry first. He stepped inside behind her. “Your luggage is in the master bedroom.”

She turned to him. “Thank you.”

He nodded and moved into the living area, tossing the diaper bag down on the light tan leather sofa.

Trish followed him into the room. Once upon a time, Trish had fallen in love with the small cottage and had asked Clay if she could make a few changes, put her stamp on it, so to speak. She gazed into the room with a sense of pride. A combination of soft leather and suede in cream tones marked the Southwest contemporary feel of the house. Delicate copper and brass sculptures sat on glass tables and masterful metal artwork hung on the walls. She’d created a cozy atmosphere in keeping with the flavor of Red Ridge for their one-time guests.

But it looked as if no one had ever stepped foot in it. Everything was in its place, not a stick of furniture or a fruit bowl had been moved. The place was perfect and pristine. That would change in the blink of an eye.

Babies caused chaos, even four-month-olds who weren’t at the crawling stage yet. Meggie did her fair share of rolling, though, and Trish knew she had to give the baby a wide berth when she set her down on the floor.

“If the baby needs anything, Helen will be around. She’s got three grandchildren.”

“Three now? She had only two when I was living, uh, here,” she finished awkwardly.

Clay waited a beat, probably deciding whether to enter into a conversation with her. The tick in his jaw did an intermittent dance. “Jillie had another, a boy this time.”

“So Helen has two grandsons and a granddaughter. I bet they keep her busy.”

“When she’s not here, she’s usually with them.”

Trish often wondered if her own mother would take to Meggie like that, love her unconditionally and accept her in their family. It seemed Trish’s mother had given everything she had to give to Blake in those earlier years. Once he’d recovered, her mother had never really been the same. Maybe it was the pressure, the constant tension or the drain his illness had taken on her, but her mother hadn’t really been thrilled at the prospect of a grandchild. Not the way Trish had hoped.

The baby squirmed in her arms, wiggling and making her presence known. Clay watched her interact with the baby with curious eyes. “I’d better set her down for a few seconds.”

She bent to put Meggie down on her butt, propping her against the sofa on the floor. The baby waved her arms and cackled, happy for the time being. “There you go, sweet baby. Much better, huh?” Straightening, she turned to Clay. “She likes a change of scenery sometimes. I’ve got to learn not to hold her all the time.”

His gaze stayed on Meggie sitting quite contentedly on the floor. “You need help unpacking?”

He was being polite. Clay had always been a gentleman, even when he was hopping mad. She shook her head. “No. We’ll be fine, Clay.”

His mouth pinched tight and he lifted his eyes to her. “Doesn’t the baby need a crib?”

At least Trish had that much under control. “I’ll call the rental company and have a few things delivered tomorrow.”

“What about tonight? Where will she sleep?”

Trish let out a pent-up breath. “She’ll be with me. The truth is, I don’t get much sleep. I check on her most of the night. She sleeps so soundly, sometimes I wonder if she’s breathing at all. I guess most new moms go through the same kind of panic.”

Clay nodded as if he understood it all, but she noted the question in his eyes. No one knew what parenthood was like until they experienced it themselves. Trish’s emotions this past month were all over the map, from highs when Meggie would take a full bottle and fall asleep, to lows when she was fussy and Trish couldn’t figure out what the heck was wrong. Half the time, she second-guessed herself and questioned if she was doing anything right. But Meggie was thriving and safe, so she clung to those positive thoughts.

“Helen stocked the refrigerator. You should have everything you need in there,” Clay said.

“Okay. And I’d like to see Penny’s Song as soon as possible.”

The divorce wasn’t the only reason she’d come back to Red Ridge. She’d promised to play a key role in fundraising for Penny’s Song, even though that hadn’t been the original plan. That plan, to be there for its development and construction, had gone by the wayside when her marriage fell apart.

“Tomorrow morning soon enough?”

“Yes, I can hardly wait. I’ve been thinking about it. Wondering. Is it … all that we imagined?”

Clay’s unyielding expression softened. “It’s all that and more. Seeing the kids there, well, it makes all the difference.”

Young Penny Martin, the charity’s namesake, a Red Ridge local and a big fan of Clayton Worth, hadn’t been as lucky as Trish’s brother, Blake. Even though she’d put up a valiant fight and had been so brave, she’d lost her life to leukemia at the age of ten. Her death sparked the idea in Clay to use Worth land and resources for the charity and Trish had been behind it one-hundred percent. Penny’s Song would go a long way in helping kids robbed of their childhood assimilate back into society after their recovery by making them feel normal again. Trish couldn’t wait to see how the facility had come to life.

“We’ll be ready.”

“I can drive you over at nine, if that’s not too early?”

“Early? I wish. Meggie’s up at the crack of dawn. By 9:00 a.m. I’ve already put in half a day.”

Clay wasn’t really paying attention to her, though. She caught him watching Meggie, who had plunked down onto her tummy and begun to roll toward the fireplace. “Looks like you’ve got a runaway.”

“Meggie!” By the time the words were out of her mouth, Clay was there, picking her up before she pulled the fireplace tools on top of her.

“You’re fast,” he said. The smile on his face was only for Meggie. He held her at a distance for a second, not quite sure what to do with her. Then he tucked her into his body and cradled her to his chest.

Trish inhaled a sharp breath.

Meggie wasn’t too sure what to make of Clay, but she wasn’t crying either. Trish wished she could say the same of herself. Inside, her heart cried out seeing what could have been if only their marriage had survived. Clayton Worth, the big, rugged cowboy holding a baby, her baby, in his strong arms was a tender sight to behold.

She could have gone on watching the two of them, but Clay didn’t give her time to lament the loss. Before she knew it, he was handing Meggie over. “Here you go.” He made the transfer with utmost care. “She’s going to keep you on your toes.”

“She’s fast,” Trish whispered, still awed seeing Clay holding the baby. “But she’s a good sleeper, so it’s a trade-off.”

Clay nodded, giving Meggie one long look before turning on his heels and heading to the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he glanced back Trish’s way. “If you change your mind, I can send Helen over to help you unpack.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Clay sent her a dubious look before walking out.

Trish closed her eyes. Heaven help her. The last half hour had been one of the hardest in her life. Seeing Clay again hurt. The pain had resurfaced the minute he’d walked up to greet her. And seeing him holding Meggie just now was like pouring salt in her freshly opened wound.

He couldn’t wait to send you divorce papers.

He never really understood you.

He’s probably having a hot and heavy affair with Suzy.

They were all good reasons to keep Clay at a distance and not get suckered in by his deadly good looks, heart-melting smile or sentimental memories of the good times they’d shared.

He was then. This was now.

She may not have a handle on motherhood yet, but she knew everything about surviving and remembering why she’d come back to the ranch was a priority.

Divorce.

Clay’s boots ate concrete as he strode toward his house. Trish had a kid. A baby. He wondered how long it would take for him to wrap his mind around that. She’d blown their marriage apart denying him a child. He never understood why she’d been so resistant to the idea. He had money and resources to provide for a child better than ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the population of the world. She hadn’t trusted in that. She hadn’t trusted in him enough to know they’d work it out. And then she’d started in with her accusations about him and Suzy.

Trish’s appearance today tilted him off balance. His head spun seeing her again, and he swore up and down about the decision to bring her here. His attorney could have dealt with the divorce and to hell with Trish’s fundraising abilities. He would’ve found someone else for the job. But he was thickheaded and wanted things done his way. He wanted to face her again, after she’d walked out. He wanted closure and to end things civilly. That had been the plan.

It was still the plan, he reminded himself.

He entered the house, his stomach clenched tight, and shut the door with too much force. Behind him the beveled glass rattled from the slam.

“That you, Clayton?” He heard Helen’s muffled voice from a distance.

There was a bang. Then another. Lifting his head to listen closely, he strode toward the stairs. “Helen?”

Boom. Thump.

“Up here.”

He strode toward the staircase and the clatter that interrupted the peace in the house. “Where are you?”

“In the attic. I need help.”

“I’m coming. Hold on.” Clay jogged up the stairs quickly, taking them two at a time. He reached the landing and turned the corner quickly, finding a pull-down ladder that led to another small landing and the attic door.

He yanked it open just as Helen popped her head out and they nearly bumped. He examined her face, dotted with grime, but the rest of her appeared uninjured. “What the hell—”

“We’ve got baby equipment up here, Clayton. Took some shoving and pushing, but I found your old crib. There are sheets that need some gentle washing, but everything is in excellent condition.”

Clay sighed with relief. He glanced at the boxes, crates and furniture Helen had obviously moved. “You shouldn’t have come up here by yourself. You could have gotten hurt.”

She waved him off as she was prone to do. “Nonsense. We need to get this stuff down for that little baby to use.”

“Trish is taking care of that. She’s renting equipment. It should arrive tomorrow.”

“That woman needs all the help she can get with that baby.”

Clay didn’t take offense. Helen never meddled in his love life, so there was no ulterior motive in her comment. He knew exactly what she meant. Trish looked frazzled when she arrived and she was probably exhausted by now, chasing the human rolling pin around.

There’d be no arguing with Helen anyway. She was like a mother to him, even if they’d never spoken of such things. She’d been around Clay and his brothers Tagg and Jackson since they were youngsters.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll bring it over.”

Two hours later, Clay had the crib set up in the master bedroom in the guesthouse.

Meggie was sleeping on a thick quilt with a zoo animal motif on the living room floor. When he’d knocked, Trish had been surprised to see him again, but there was a grateful look in her eyes and Clay knew he’d done the right thing bringing the crib over. The baby was innocent in all this and she shouldn’t have to do without creature comforts.

Clay gave the sides of the crib a few tugs, checking that he had the screws tight and secure before he backed away to admire his work. The crib was made of solid walnut and was in fantastic shape for as old as it was. When he turned, he found Trish in the room holding a glass of iced tea with three slices of lemon submerged under the ice.

“Here you go,” she said, offering him the glass.

He took a gulp and swallowed the cool liquid. “Just the way I like it.”

“Some things never change,” she said with a shrug.

Was that another crack or just a casual comment?

“I can’t thank you enough,” she said, lifting the crib sheets from the dresser and moving to the crib. Judging by her sincere tone, he gave her the benefit of the doubt. She’d remembered the way he took his tea, nothing more. “You didn’t have to do this tonight, but I’m sure Meggie will love her new digs.”

Clay didn’t want to smile, yet the corner of his mouth quirked up. He wanted out of there, away from Trish. She’d showered and changed into a pair of jeans and a red plaid blouse, but even the simple clothes looked fashionable and elegant on her. Her blond hair was still damp and curling around her face and shoulders. She smelled of citrus and sugar like a sweet piece of fruit.

“I’d better go.”

Trish nodded, holding the freshly cleaned sheets to her chest. “I’ll walk you out.”

She followed behind as he walked into the living room. The baby took that moment to wake up and look at him from the quilt. She made a little sound, watching him cut across the room with eyes wide and bluer than a spring lake. She was a cute little thing, all pink cheeks and tiny blond curls.

“Well, look who’s awake now,” Trish offered in a sugary voice. When he glanced at her, her attention was focused on the baby.

He reached for the doorknob. He didn’t belong here. He wasn’t part of this happy scenario.

“Good night,” he said as Trish bent to pick Meggie up. The two of them clung to each other.

Mother and child.

“Good night, Clay.”

He opened the door and closed it behind him without looking back.

He’d done his good deed for the day.

Getting the baby up in the morning, fed, bathed and dressed was a whirlwind of activity and a ritual that hadn’t gotten any easier for Trish. By the time nine o’clock rolled around, Trish was putting the finishing touches on her own grooming. She brushed her teeth quickly, secured her hair in a ponytail, then mascara tipped her eyelashes and slashed light pink lipstick on her lips.

She was excited and eager to see Penny’s Song for the first time. She’d only seen the place laid out on drafting paper, the design one she’d worked on with Clay. She wondered if the real thing would meet her expectations.

When the doorbell rang, Trish was as ready as she’d ever be. She had a diaper bag filled with essentials, a well-fed, well-rested baby and nerves of steel. At least that’s what she told herself.

She went to the door braced to see Clay again. Today she’d make an appointment with him to discuss the divorce. No sense putting off the inevitable. Suzy Johnson would then have a legal right to get her claws into him.

When she opened the door, surprise registered when it wasn’t Clay but a pretty brunette standing on the doorstep.

“Hi, I’m Callie Worth. Tagg’s wife. I hope it’s okay that I stopped by?”

“Hi, Callie. Of course it is.” Trish still had friends in Red Ridge. She’d heard that Tagg had gotten married. Callie and she were, for all intents and purposes, sisters-in-law at the moment. “I’m Trish. It’s nice to meet you. Would you like to come in?”

“I’m dying to come in, but I know you’re going over to Penny’s Song in a little while.”

When Trish raised her brows, she explained. “I spoke to Clay this morning and he told me your plans and that … that you had a baby.”

“He told you about Meggie?”

“He said she was a pretty little picture.”

Trish smiled. “Well, I sure think so.”

“We’re expecting a baby soon, too.”

Trish glanced at the little pooch of a belly jutting out from under Callie’s blouse. “Congratulations. I’m happy for you and Tagg. There’s, uh, nothing like it.” That much was true. Even though she was still sorting it all out, she wouldn’t trade having Meggie for the world.

The baby’s cry from the other room startled her. “Oh, I’d better get her. Come in, please.”

Callie followed her into the master bedroom and they found Meggie in her crib, rolling from her back to her belly. She stopped and looked up when she noted a new face.

“This is Meggie,” Trish said.

The baby was dressed in springtime yellow bib overalls with a giant purple daisy on the front and matching bootie socks.

“Hello, Meggie,” Callie said. “You look ready for a stroll in the Easter parade.” She turned from the baby to Trish with sympathy in her eyes. “I heard about what happened to your friend. I’m sorry.”

“Karin was a good friend. I … miss her.”

“You’re being the best friend a girl could have. Making sure her daughter is loved and nurtured. I, well, I think it’s pretty wonderful of you.”

“Thank you.” Uncomfortable with the praise, she changed the subject. “Do you know what you’re having?”

Callie laid a hand on her stomach and shook her head. “Not yet. It’s a little too soon to tell. Secretly, I think Tagg wants a boy, but he’s really not saying.”

When she didn’t say the cliché, as long as it’s healthy, which was a given for any soon-to-be parents, Trish decided she really liked Callie.

“When I spoke with Clay he said you were renting baby gear and, well, I’m hoping I can help. Tagg went a little crazy the other day when we went shopping. We have two of almost everything.”

“Honestly?”

Callie smiled and a look of love entered her eyes. It was sweet enough to envy, just a little. “I’m not joking. Tagg was like a kid in a candy store. Big mistake on my part taking him to look at baby furniture, but now his extravagance might come in handy. If you need a stroller, play yard or high chair, you’re looking at Baby Central. We can loan you anything you need. We won’t need it for months.”

Normally, Trish wouldn’t accept such an offer, but Callie was sincere and kind about it, looking like she really wanted to help. Trish wouldn’t refuse her good intentions. Not to mention that the loan would save her time and money. “Oh my gosh, that would be incredible.”

Callie’s face brightened. “Great. I’ll bring the stroller over to Penny’s Song and Meggie can test it out today.”

“That’s so … I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’d better run, Clay will be—”

“Clay will be what?”

They turned to find Clay leaning against the doorframe, a curious expression on his face. With boots crossed, a black shirt tucked into worn jeans and hair peeking out from a tan suede Stetson, he didn’t just look the part. There was no doubt he was a rancher through and through—a tall, lean, rugged cowboy with a destructive smile and melt-your-heart eyes.

“Here. And now you are.” Callie walked over to her brother-in-law and gave him a quick hug. “See you later at the little ranch. Bye, Trish.”

“Bye, Callie.”

Meeting Tagg’s wife had lifted her mood. She hadn’t expected such a warm, friendly welcome. “She’s nice,” Trish said, once Callie was gone.

“Yeah,” Clay answered, losing the smile he’d reserved for Callie. “Listen, before we go anywhere, I want to talk to you.”

“About the divorce? Yes, I want to set up a time to discuss it, too.”

Clay shook his head and walked farther into the room. “Fine, we’ll do that. But first, I want to discuss something else.”

He sounded serious. Trish glanced at Meggie who was occupying herself for the moment. They had a few minutes, at best. “Okay.”

Clay gestured to the bed as he walked farther into the room. She sat on the edge closest to the crib and he sat on the opposite corner. He took his hat off and set it down between them. “It’s about Suzy.”

Trish’s good mood vanished. Her stomach knotted at the mention of her name. Images popped into her mind of all the times Suzy had come over, right after she’d divorced her alcoholic husband. At first, Trish had felt sorry for her and offered friendship, but within a matter of weeks, it had become clear that Suzy had only wanted Clay’s friendship. Tagg and Jackson liked her. Wes liked her. Everyone was always singing her praises, so Trish tolerated her, but that tolerance had worn thin until one day it finally snapped.

“Whatever’s happening with you and Suzy is no longer any of my business.”

It was a big fat lie, but she clung to it and sent him a smile that could melt butter.

A noisy breath whooshed out of him and the irritated sound filled the room. His dark eyes went cold. “Your assumptions could fill a football stadium.”

“Oh, I know. Suzy’s a friend. Your family has known her family for—”

“Cut it out, Trish.” Clay kept his voice low, mindful of the baby in the room, but she couldn’t miss the warning in his voice. “It’s not what you think. It never was.”

The soft sounds of a rattle, like sifting sand, turned their attention toward the crib. Meggie cooed and Trish focused on the contented baby while she got a grip on her feelings. She turned to him. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Look,” Clay said firmly. “I wanted you to know you’re gonna see Suzy around the ranch. She’s volunteering her free time at Penny’s Song. We value her nursing skills and I’m not going to waste my breath defending myself whenever you think you see something going on between us.”

“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.”