Читать книгу The Cowboy's Pride - Charlene Sands - Страница 9

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 overstepped 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.”

Clay didn’t disagree. “What about your kinks. They loosening up?”

Trish snapped her eyes to his and unwilling to spoil the relaxed mood, she asked simply, “What kinks?”

“You had a hard time with Callie taking Meggie for a walk.”

There was no accusation in his tone, and Trish couldn’t deny his claim. The entire time Trish walked the perimeter with Clay, she was looking over her shoulder, hoping to get a glimpse of Meggie and make sure she was all right. She’d only half listened to Clay’s explanations and commentaries as they toured the facility and she had hoped she wasn’t too obvious. “We haven’t been separated much,” she admitted in earnest.

“She did fine,” Clay pointed out.

“But I was a wreck? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I wouldn’t say wreck exactly.”

She would have taken offense, but Clay shot her a killer smile, the kind that would normally have buckled her knees. Good thing she was sitting. Now, she could pretend the smile didn’t devastate her. “Concerned is a better description.”

She glanced at Meggie again, catching a glimpse of her at an angle in the rear-facing car seat. The baby had her head slumped against one shoulder, her rosy cheeks even more ruddy now and the tiny curls atop her head catching the fading glow of sunlight.