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The Cowboy's Pride
Charlene Sands


He’d been ready to move on, to marry a woman who’d provide him with heirs.But a year of separation hasn’t slaked rancher Clay Worth’s raging desire for his soon-to-be-ex wife. And Trish is as unpredictable as ever. Her mysterious reluctance to have kids drove them apart, but now she’s the adoptive mother to an infant daughter! Still, when they touch an all-consuming hunger leaps to life.










“So I was thinking, how about I bring over dinner later tonight?”

“Clay, it’s not a good idea.”

“I thought I had good ideas. You said so yourself about a dozen times last night.”

His ideas had given her a night she’d never forget, but morning brought her sanity back. “Last night was incredible,” she said honestly. “I’m not sorry, it’s something we both wanted and needed, but we can’t—”

“Why not? Why can’t we?”

“Because it’s pointless.”

He hesitated for a moment. “Don’t analyze it, Trish. We’re still married.”

For the next few weeks. “Well, I can’t separate the two in my head. I can’t make love with you and pretend we’re not split up. I can’t do that to myself or to Meggie. She’s already lost so much.”

“What is she going to lose if I come over for dinner?”

“It won’t end there and you know it. While I’m here, I’m going to focus on the fundraiser. I won’t have a lot of time for anything else.”

Dubious, his eyes lit like sparks on the Fourth of July. “Count on me to change your mind.”


Dear Reader,

Welcome back to glorious Red Ridge, Arizona, for Clayton Worth and Trisha Fontaine’s story!

I’m thrilled to have The Cowboy’s Pride be a part of Desire this month. I promise you, not only will you fall in love with Clay, the sexy, one-time country music superstar now running Worth Ranch, but I’m pretty sure adorable, blond-haired, blue-eyed baby Meggie will steal your heart as well. She’s a cutie!

I guess you could say, babies are my business, my other business. For the past twenty-five years, I’ve taught childbirth and baby-care classes to expectant parents. It’s been a great honor and joy in my life. Creating Trish Fontaine’s character, a new mommy who is learning parenting skills by the seat of her pants, has been truly fun.

Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about the third Worth brother. Jackson’s story is coming soon, too!

Happy reading!

Charlene Sands




About the Author


Award-winning author CHARLENE SANDS writes bold, passionate, heart-stopping heroes and always … really good men! She’s a lover of all things romantic, having married her high-school sweetheart, Don. A member of the Romance Writers of America, she is the proud recipient of a Readers’ Choice Award and double recipient of a Booksellers’ Best Award, having written more than thirty romances to date.

When not writing, she loves movie dates with her hubby, playing cards with her children, reading romance, great coffee, Pacific beaches, country music and anything chocolate. She also loves to hear from her readers. You can reach Charlene at www.charlenesands.com or PO Box 4883, West Hills, CA 91308, USA. You can find her on the Harlequin Desire Authors Blog, and on Facebook, too!




The Cowboy’s

Pride

Charlene Sands





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


This story is dedicated to

all the sweet little babies in the world!

And to one very special baby girl, our first grandchild:

At the time of writing this dedication, you haven’t

come out to greet us yet, but you are precious

and loved already!




One


The Arizona sky over Worth Ranch was cloudless blue, the air clear enough to view a distant yellow cab ambling up the road that led to the main house. A small cloud of crimson dust billowed up in the taxi’s wake, before scattering to earth again.

“Looks like your wife’s finally here,” Wes said.

Clayton Worth followed the direction of his ranch foreman’s gaze and gave a curt nod. He didn’t have to tell him that Trisha Fontaine wasn’t going to be his wife much longer. Everyone in Red Ridge knew their marriage was over.

“Cover your ears, Wes.” Clay pulled off his leather work gloves and drew oxygen into his lungs. He shouldn’t care so damn much that Trish was late getting here—by three days—he hadn’t seen her for almost a year. “The fireworks are about to begin.”

Wes Malloy sent him a halfhearted smile. “Breaking things off ain’t ever easy, Clay.”

His foreman had worked the ranch with Clay’s father way back when, helping Rory Worth build his massive cattle empire. Nothing had mattered more to Rory than the family and the ranch. The two went hand in hand. Rory’s dying plea had been for Clay to take over the reins at Worth Ranch and provide heirs to keep the family legacy strong.

But Clay hadn’t been able to keep that vow to his father.

Not only had Trish refused him children, but she’d suspected him of betraying his marriage vows. Her accusation cut deep and when she’d walked out on him, it had been the last straw. If he’d had any doubts about the divorce, it vanished when he’d gotten Trish’s voice mail message three days ago that something important had come up and she couldn’t make the Penny’s Song opening.

Something important was always coming up.

She should have been here. Despite their yearlong separation, the charity she helped him develop on Worth land for children recovering from illness should have meant more to her than that. He never thought she’d blow it off.

He’d been wrong.

Clay jammed his gloves into the back pockets of his Wranglers and took slow deliberate steps as he made his approach to the idling cab. He watched Trish get out of the backseat, stretching out her legs as she rose to her full height. Chest tight, Clay’s breath caught and he recalled the first time he’d met her, the first time he’d seen those beautiful mile-high legs, backstage at a black-tie function in Nashville. Clay’s country music superstardom had always brought big donors to charity events.

He’d bumped into her by accident—his big frame no match for her slender body. She toppled and he lunged for her just before she collided with the ground. He’d heard a rip from her too-tight dress and witnessed the gown split along the seam clear up to her thigh. Under the dim lights, her exposed skin glowed soft and creamy and something powerful happened to Clay then. Before he’d gotten her to a standing position, he asked her out to dinner. She’d refused him flat, but with a smile, and handed him her business card so he could make arrangements to pay for her ruined dress.

Hell, he never could resist a challenge and a beautiful woman.

But that was then.

“Trish.” He stood a few feet from her.

“Hello, Clay,” she said softly.

Unnerved by the breathy sound of her voice, he braced himself. It surprised him that she still could affect him that way. Trish’s sighs and little gasps poured fire into his veins. That much hadn’t changed. With a practiced eye, he skimmed over her body.

Half of her white blouse was out of the waistband of her pinstriped skirt. It hung along the side of her hip, haphazardly bunched. The tailored button-down blouse itself was travel-wrinkled, as she would say, stained by some mystery food and looking like it had seen better days. Long strands of her honey-blond hair stuck out of a cockeyed velvet bow in a bad attempt at a ponytail. Smudges of deep cherry-red lipstick colored the lower part of her chin.

In short, Trisha Fontaine Worth, his soon to be ex-wife, was a beautiful mess.

She caught his look of confusion. No one could ever say she was slow. “I know. Don’t say it. I look like something the cat dragged in.”

He was wise enough not to comment. “Bad trip?”

Trish shrugged. “Bad everything lately.” She darted a quick glance inside the backseat of the cab and then spoke to the taxi driver, “Give me one minute, please.”

When she faced him again, the weary tone of her voice bordered on apology. “I missed the opening of Penny’s Song. I tried reaching you a few times and well, I didn’t want to explain it to your answering machine.”

Clay had been piss angry with her for half a dozen reasons, but at the moment, he wasn’t so much mad as he was curious. What the heck was up with her? He’d never seen Trish look so … scattered. What happened to the ever capable, well-organized and fashion-conscious woman who’d stolen his heart three years ago?

“I never thought you’d miss it, Trish.” They’d caused each other injury and frustration, but the one thing they’d always agreed upon, the one thing that rose above their personal trials, had been the founding of Penny’s Song.

“Neither did I, and believe me, I tried to—”

He heard little whimpers coming from inside the cab. The sound brought him up short. “What’s that? Don’t tell me you got a dog.”

Her eyes widened. She whirled around so fast that he nearly missed it when he blinked. “Oh! It’s the baby. She’s waking up.”

Baby?

But by that time, Trish had already reached inside the backseat of the cab.

When she reemerged, she was gently shushing a baby wrapped in a delicate pink blanket. Hips swaying, she took careful steps, rocking the bundle in her arms with a soft smile. Clay noted her entire demeanor changed the minute she’d lifted the baby. “It’s okay, sweet baby. It’s okay.” She spared Clay a glance and offered, “She fell asleep in the car seat.”

Clay stepped forward. He’d been focused solely on Trish. He hadn’t noticed a car seat in the cab or anything else for that matter. He peeked over the blanket, taking in the baby’s honey-wheat blond hair and crystal blue eyes. The same shade as Trish’s. A tick worked at his jaw. He didn’t know much about babies, but he sure as hell knew that the child was at least four months old. Trish had left him one year ago. Doing the math wasn’t rocket science.

His heart pounded against his chest. “Whose baby is that?”

Trish snapped her eyes to his and began shaking her head. “Oh no, Clay … it’s not what you think. The baby’s not yours.”

Clay blinked and rocked back on his heels. The implication was there, out in the open, and his gut clenched with the knowledge. He tried a deep breath to steady his rising temper.

For the sixteen years Clay had been in country music, women had flung themselves at him nearly every day. He’d fended off groupies by the dozens. There were always rumors hard to live down, but once he’d met Trish, he’d made it publicly known he was attached and planned on staying that way. He’d never betrayed her. Not during those days when he traveled on the country circuit and not now as he ran the Worth empire. Even throughout their separation, he’d been faithful to his vows.

And damn it, he’d expected the same from her. “But she’s yours?”

She nodded, sending him a look of deep regret. “Yes, she’s mine.”

Clay let out a string of curses that would shock his poker buddies. He didn’t know which news troubled him the worst. That the child was his and she’d kept it from him, or that the baby wasn’t his, which meant she’d cheated on him during their time apart.

“You got pregnant?”

Color drained from her face and her eyes filled with pain.

What was with her anyway? Did she think that showing up here with a baby that wasn’t his wouldn’t rile him? Did she think that he would welcome her and accept them both without question? The divorce she came for today couldn’t happen soon enough for him now.

“No, Clay. I didn’t get pregnant.” She acted like the idea was absurd and that he was a jerk to even think it. Her voice trembled with indignation. “There … there hasn’t been anyone else.”

Her earnest admission split his anger in half. He narrowed his eyes staring at her expression, remembering one thing about his wife. She wasn’t a liar. He believed her. Relief raced through his body. He wasn’t sure why his heart tripped hearing her declaration. Or why he’d felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He shouldn’t feel like doing a tap dance because his estranged wife hadn’t cheated on him.

He tipped his hat farther back on his forehead, trying to make sense of it all. Determined to get to the truth, he folded his arms across his chest and eyed her carefully. “I’m still waiting for that explanation.”

Trish inhaled deeply. Her eyes softened when she glanced at the child in her arms. “I’m adopting her.”

Adopting her?

Clay blinked and shook the cobwebs out of his head. Wasn’t this the woman who’d told him over and over that she wasn’t ready for motherhood? The woman who’d told him she needed more time, until the waiting seemed like it would never end. Wasn’t this the woman who’d caused him to break his vow to his dying father?

“What?”

She turned sideways to shield the baby from the afternoon sun and looked at him over her shoulder. “Clay, can we talk inside the house? Meggie’s squinting. And I’m pretty sure she shouldn’t be out in this heat.”

That was the first thing she’d said during their conversation that made any sense. Clay gestured with a nod toward the house. “The door’s unlocked. Take the baby and go on inside. I’ll deal with the cabdriver and your things and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Thank you. Oh, and Clay, there’s a lot of things.” Trish nibbled on her lower lip. “Babies, I’m learning, come with their own set of gear.”

Trish heard Clay speaking with the cabdriver as she held Meggie tight to her chest and walked along the path where flower beds of white and yellow lilies and purple hyacinth thrived. Everything looked the same as she remembered. With its wraparound veranda supported by polished wood railings and centered by a wide double door, the spacious two-story ranch house embodied old Southwest charm. The first time Clay had brought her here, she’d been awestruck by the expanse and splendor of Worth land and the surrounding Red Ridge Mountains, but she’d been even more enamored of Clay, the man she’d eventually wed.

She’d planned on having his children, one day. She’d discussed it with Clay in obscure terms for the most part before they’d married. But then Clay’s father passed and suddenly her husband was hell bent on having a baby.

Right away.

His sudden change in plans had floored her. She hadn’t been ready for motherhood back then. Heck, she wasn’t ready for it now. The thought of screwing up something as important as raising a child struck fear in her heart. She didn’t want to make the same mistakes her mother had made. But Meggie had come into her life and Trish wouldn’t let her down.

On a deep breath, she turned the doorknob and opened the front door. A wave of nostalgia hit her as she stepped inside the house. “Oh, Meggie,” she whispered.

She’d lived in this house with Clay and they’d been happy once. Tears welled in her eyes. She’d missed living on the ranch, but she didn’t know just how much until she stepped over the threshold. She stood there a minute, as sensations flooded her. She and Clay had started a life here, a good life, but obstacles had gotten in the way and as much as he would lay the blame on her, her stubborn soon-to-be ex had played a hand in their breakup.

Clay’s part-time housekeeper approached the foyer and greeted her with a cautious smile. “Mrs. Worth, it’s good to see you. Welcome home.” Her gaze went straight to the baby.

“Hello, Helen. I’m glad to see you, too.” But she wasn’t really home. After her brief stay, she’d have no place here anymore. “I’ll be living at the guesthouse while I’m here, but I—”

“Yes, Clayton has told me. I’ve got everything set for you in there. But, oh my, I wasn’t expecting—”

“I know. Neither was I. This is Meggie,” Trish said, turning slightly to show her the baby’s face. “Isn’t she sweet?”

Helen’s eyes softened and she touched the baby blanket gently just under Meggie’s chin. “She’s a beautiful baby.”

“I think so, too.” Trish brushed a kiss to Meggie’s forehead. The poor child. She had no idea what was happening. They’d traveled across the country to get here, a trip that had taken its toll on both of them.

Helen waited a split second for more explanation, but Trish held her tongue. Clay’s housekeeper had a momma bear protective streak when it came to the Worth men, and Trish already suspected she wasn’t in her good graces for walking out on Clay and moving back to Nashville. Of course, she doubted Helen knew all the details and she wouldn’t hear them from her.

“Would you like something to drink?” Helen asked. “I’ve got a pot of coffee still on.”

“No, thank you. I think we’re just going to sit down in the parlor and wait for Clay.”

Helen nodded and then looked Trish over as if just noticing her state of dishevelment. “If I can do anything for you, let me know.”

How about a course in Motherhood 101? Trish could write a book about what she didn’t know about raising a baby. Every spare moment she’d managed this month had been spent poring over parenting books.

“I will. And Helen, it’s really good to see you.”

The woman smiled. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

Trish entered the parlor and stopped short. Her breath caught in her throat, her shoulders sagged. Hurtful memories entered her mind and threatened to exhaust the last shred of her energy. She hadn’t expected this, to feel such overwhelming sadness. She’d put the divorce on hold for nearly a year, unable to face the failure, but now, being here and stepping into this room again after all this time, brought everything back.

She and Clay had argued—it had become nearly impossible not to during those days—right before she left for an overnight business trip. Trish had come home later that evening when the trip was unexpectedly canceled. With makeup sex on her mind, she strode into the parlor eager to see her husband and put a happy ending on the evening.

She found Clay with Suzy Johnson. On the sofa. Together. Intimately sipping wine and quietly laughing about God only knows, some private joke they’d probably shared. Everything about that scene screamed “wrong” in a marriage already precariously holding on by a thread. And the last thing she’d needed was the hometown girl, a Worth family friend, hovering, waiting in the wings for a chance at Clay.

Trish ground her teeth, reminding herself that she couldn’t dwell on that now. She couldn’t look back. She took a seat, spreading out the baby’s blanket and then laid the baby down. Meggie stared up at her with sparkling eyes, kicking her legs like an exercise guru, happy to be stretching out. That’s when Trish saw moisture leaking from the baby’s bloomers.

“Oh, darn,” she muttered. She’d left the diaper bag in the taxi. She chewed on her lower lip again and shook her head. She had more-than-average intelligence, but Trish couldn’t have predicted in a thousand years how difficult being a single mom would be.

Motherhood was kicking her butt.

“Have patience with me, sweet baby. I’m still learning.”

Just then Clay strode into the room with his usual confident swagger, and her heartbeats sped watching him move across the floor. His jaw tight, and his face flawlessly chiseled from granite, Trish had almost forgotten how handsome he was. She’d almost forgotten his raw sensuality. That and his innate charm had turned her head, even though she’d fought it tooth and nail in the beginning of their relationship. Because while she had refused Clayton Worth’s romantic advances, she hadn’t refused to represent him as his publicist and she’d taken him on as a client. Landing a country superstar even in the final stages of his music career had been a big deal and she’d never mixed business with pleasure. But Clay had other ideas, setting his sights on her. Once she’d stopped resisting the irresistible, she’d fallen deeply in love.

“You’re the perfect woman for me,” he’d say, before covering her body with his and bringing them both … perfection. And she’d actually believed it for a while.

He came to a halt a few feet in front of her, a pink polka-dot diaper bag gripped in his hand. “Is this what you need?”

Her gaze traveled from the tight fit of his blue jeans, to a shining silver belt buckle with the famous W brand, up the wide expanse of his blue chambray shirt to his throat and the hairs that peeked out from underneath the collar. She’d loved to kiss that part of his throat and nibble her way up to his mouth. She lifted her gaze further to meet with russet-brown eyes that seemed to peer into her soul. At one time, he could melt her heart with just one of those penetrating looks. She wondered if he was melting Suzy Johnson’s heart now.

“Oh, uh, yes. Thank you.”

He set the diaper bag down near the sofa and then sat opposite her on a wing chair. Leaning in, he braced his arms on his knees. With a no-holds-barred expression, he asked, “Are you ready to tell me what’s going on?”

She’d procrastinated telling Clay about Meggie partly because she could hardly believe it herself and partly because she knew how much Clay had wanted his own family. To her knowledge, no one had ever really denied Clay anything. He’d hit country music stardom at a young age and had retired in this mid-thirties to run the Worth empire. He was wealthy, good-looking and admired, a man used to having things on his own terms. Trish often thought of him as the golden boy. Everything in his life had come easy, whereas the opposite had been true for her.

She’d worked hard to build her career, putting her whole heart into it. When Clay moved to the ranch, she’d kept her business in Nashville and split her time between the two places. At the time, he seemed to understand the situation. But having a baby then would have meant Trish having to give up her dream.

As a child, her parents had been so intent on saving her brother from the cancer threatening his life that Trish’s needs and wants had been neglected. Every moment and every ounce of their energy went into keeping her younger brother alive. Trish had learned early on to fend for herself and to ward off the neglect by becoming self-reliant and independent. She’d clung to the things that made her strong, her schooling for one, and later, her small thriving business. The thought of letting it go and starting a family wasn’t easy for her. Not when she’d finally built something all her own. Not when Clay had changed the rules.

She looked at Clay and began, “Do you remember me telling you about Karin, my childhood friend who lived with her husband in Europe?”

Clay nodded, his eyes narrowing in question. “Yeah, I remember you talking about her.”

Trish took a deep breath and pulled a disposable diaper out of the bag. She ran her fingers along the plastic edges. “Well, sadly, her husband died about one year ago. Karin was shattered when she returned to Nashville as a widow. We mourned together. It was only a few weeks later that she found out she was going to have a baby.”

Trish glanced at Meggie who had turned her body to peer at Clay with curiosity. The baby had good instincts, Trish thought wryly, trying to keep herself from weeping as she recounted the story. “It was really hard for her. She was pregnant and pretty much alone. I was with her when Meggie was born. Oh, Clay, it was such a mir—”

But Trish couldn’t finish her thought, not without falling apart. Meggie was a miracle—just seeing her being born, all wrinkly and pink, taking her first breaths and crying her first soft cries, had been a life-changing experience for Trish. She’d never expected to feel such incredible awe and wonder.

Clay sat quietly, listening, and Trish continued. “Karin had complications after the delivery that put her life at risk. It was touch and go for months and then last month, she got an infection that she just couldn’t fight off.”

Trish closed her eyes, willing the grief away as those painful memories surfaced. “She made me promise I’d take the baby if things went bad. I agreed, of course.”

She’d promised her friend, but Trish never thought that she’d have to follow through on that promise. She never believed her friend would die. The baby had been thrust into her life and now she was solely responsible for her. “Karin didn’t make it and I’m Meggie’s legal guardian now,” she explained. “I plan to adopt her as soon as I can.”

Clay’s eyes softened as he peered at Meggie. “The baby has no other family?”

“I’m it, for all practical purposes.” Karin’s mother was in a nursing home. Her husband’s parents were gone.

She fumbled with Meggie’s diaper. She never got the thing on straight the first time and she’d learned the hard way what happened when there was a leak. She refastened the diaper, making it fit a little better. “I’m muddling through,” she confessed. “This is all so new to me.” She looked up to find Clay’s eyes on her. “Meggie had a little fever last week and I couldn’t travel with her until she was completely healthy.”

He waited a beat. “That’s why you arrived late?”

Trish nodded. “That’s the only reason.”

She’d agreed to live in the guesthouse for one month and work on publicity for Penny’s Song. And while she was here, they would end things legally, their marriage only a few terms and a divorce signature away from being history.

“Under the circumstances, I’m surprised you showed up at all.”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t miss being a part of Penny’s Song. I … it’s still important to me, Clay. Because of what my brother went through, and even more so now that I have a child.” She cringed once the words were out, wondering if his eyes would grow hard and resentment would tighten the sharp angles of his face even more. When neither of those things happened, Trish was hit with reality and unrelenting sadness.

He’s divorcing you, Trish. He doesn’t care anymore.

She’d been served those divorce papers a few short months after she’d walked out on him, but she hadn’t had the heart to end things. Even though she’d tried to forget him, coming face-to-face with Clay now brought it all full circle and her heart ached for the loss. Once upon a time, they’d been so much in love. But everything had changed. She was a single mother and she had to get her life in order. She’d see the end of one dream and the beginning of another.

After she replaced Meggie’s bloomers, she picked up the freshly diapered baby and cuddled her close. “All clean now.”

Meggie clung to her, laying her head on Trish’s shoulder. Blond locks tickled her throat and Trish smiled as she lifted her gaze to Clay. She saw the slightest flicker in his eyes.

He rose from his seat and took a few steps toward her. She caught a whiff of his aftershave, the scent of spice and musk filling her mind with images of moonlit trysts on silken sheets and beds of straw. They’d made love every place imaginable on the ranch.

“You should have told me about her, Trish.”

“You should have answered my phone calls.”

His mouth twisted and they stared at each other. Both stubborn when they thought they were right, they butted heads often. “Besides, it wasn’t as if we’re sharing much of our lives anymore.”

Clay scrubbed his jaw and sighed deeply. “Let’s get you settled in the guesthouse.”

With the baby in her arms, Trish got up from her seat and grabbed for the diaper bag. Before she could sling it over her shoulder, Clay intervened, reaching for the bag. “I’ve got it.”

His fingers brushed hers. Inwardly she gasped from the intense heat. Electricity coursed through her system potent enough to curl the very tips of her toes. And when she looked at Clay, his eyes gleamed with something he couldn’t conceal. He’d felt the connection, too.

They stood there for half a beat, no one moving, staring into each other’s eyes.

A woman’s singsong voice coming from the entry broke the moment. “Hello, Clay. Are you in here?” They turned their heads at the same time toward the doorway. The voice grew louder as the woman neared the room. “I made sugar cookies for Penny’s Song and thought you’d like some.”

Suzy Johnson walked through the doorway, a bright smile on her face, wearing a summery sundress with big yellow and blue flowers. The minute she glided inside and spotted Trish with Clay, she froze. “Oh! S-sorry if I’m interrupting. Helen didn’t answer the door and … well, it was open. I didn’t know you had—”

“It’s okay, Suzy,” Clay said. “Thanks for the cookies.”

She nodded, but the moment she took notice of the blond-haired, blue-eyed baby in Trish’s arms, her cheeks paled in color and she nearly dropped her cookie platter.

Clay’s family friend had been forever stopping by, bringing over cherry pies, asking Clay for favors or reminiscing about their childhood in Red Ridge. Whenever the hometown girl was around, Trish felt like an outsider, so seeing her discomfort now gave her no small measure of satisfaction.

The baby let out a little cry, interrupting the deafening silence. Trish rocked Meggie gently and met the dark-haired woman’s silver-dollar-sized stare.

Another moment ticked by. Trish wouldn’t engage in conversation with her, and Clay wasn’t uttering a word.

“I’ll … I guess I’ll leave these with Helen in the kitchen,” she stammered, wielding her cookie dish and backing out of the room.

Finally.

Once she was gone, Trish turned to Clay, cutting off anything he might say and managing to keep the pain from her voice. “I see nothing has changed around here.”




Two


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.”




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 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.




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