“Redheads,” Dan observed aloud, “sure can be troublesome creatures.”
Lucy Ball snorted and tossed her curly topknot. She pranced out of reach, his pliers clenched in her mouth. The calf had been stealing tools for the past half hour, and the contents of his toolbox now littered Bailey’s pasture.
Lucy was making a nuisance of herself and slowing him down. He should never have let her out of her stall in the first place. But he figured Bailey would be driving up any minute, and he hoped dealing with a mischievous calf would buy him some time while he figured out how to say what he needed to say.
Or if he should say it at all.
Because, for Dan, at least, everything was different now.
The instant he’d charged through that doorway and seen Bailey backed into a corner, he’d known. The feelings he’d kept tied down and hidden for years had been tugging at their tethers ever since he’d heard about Bailey’s phone call, but in that moment, they’d surged up with an unstoppable strength. His whole world had shifted and reformed like one of those little gizmos with the colored bits of glass that made different patterns with every turn. The truth had shone out so clearly it had staggered him.
He didn’t want a divorce. He wanted to win Bailey back. She was different now, but she was still the woman he wanted, the only woman he’d ever want.
And he wanted it all. He wanted all those sweet little scenes he’d imagined in her house. He wanted to love this woman, protect her, laugh with her. Raise a family with her. Grow old with her.
Hours had passed since then, but his deep certainty hadn’t faded a bit, not even when he’d overheard Bailey telling Emily how she didn’t trust him and never would. She had every right to feel that way, and he had no clue how to go about changing her mind. But he knew he had to try.
One thing was for sure. He didn’t want to talk about any of this with Bailey until he’d thought it through a little better. He’d be sure to say the wrong thing, and there was way too much at stake for that. So he’d let a calf pester the life out of him for the last hour and a half, just so there’d be something to distract Bailey when she got home.
Apparently, he needn’t have bothered. Bailey was running late, and the sun was setting, throwing streamers of orange and pink into the sky behind the dark bristles of the pines. Time to pack up, he realized with a sense of relief. He’d spend some time tonight praying and trying to find some kind of answer in the dog-eared Bible Gordon had given him years ago. Maybe by tomorrow he’d be ready to talk to Bailey.
“Come on, girl.” Lucy danced sideways playfully, batting her brown eyes and daring him to chase her. Dan didn’t bite. He ignored her and started ambling toward the barn by himself. Just as he’d expected, the calf’s curiosity got the better of her. He heard the sound of hooves behind him, and sure enough, she followed him right into the stall, where he gave her a bit of grain and plenty of good, clean hay.
“That’ll taste better than those rubber tool handles,” he murmured, tousling her red mop of hair. Lucy snorted at him, but she swiped his hand with her grain-encrusted tongue.
Dan left the barn, wiping his sticky hand on the leg of his jeans. He sure wished folks were as easy to understand as animals.
He gathered up the scattered tools as fast as he could, but he wasn’t quite quick enough. He was cleaning calf slobber off his pliers when he saw the headlights of Bailey’s old truck bouncing up the driveway.
His mouth went dry, but he squared his shoulders and stood by the fence line to wait. If he hadn’t been watching for it, he’d have missed Bailey’s brief hesitation before she headed in his direction. For the first time, it occurred to him that she might have run late on purpose, that maybe he wasn’t the only one nervous about this.
Bailey scanned his work in the dimming light and gave him a tense smile.
“Well, you were right. You can run a better fence line than I can. Quicker, too. I can’t believe how much you got done in just one day.” The admiration in her voice made his sore muscles worth it.
“I’ve had plenty of practice.” Together they surveyed the long row of fence posts marching into the trees. “Light’s gone now, though. I was just about to leave.”
Bailey kept her gaze focused on the fence. “I figured you’d already be gone. I had to wait nearly an hour at the lawyer’s office. Mr. Monroe’s going to draw up the papers for us, but he’s got a lot going on right now. It’s going to take him a while—he said maybe a couple of weeks. Are you planning to stay in town that long?”
Dan’s heart thumped painfully. “About that,” he started.
“Dan?” She broke in, her voice puzzled. “What’s all that stuff on the porch?” He winced. Her eye had caught on the large stack of Sheetrock and other materials he’d unloaded a few hours earlier.
“I stopped by the building supply in town.” He wished he hadn’t jumped the gun and put Lucy Ball back in her stall. “By the way, I let that calf of yours out to run a little while. You’re going to have your work cut out when you start training her to milk, I’ll tell you that much. She’s got a personality the size of Texas, and she’s already spoiled rotten.”
“Dan.” There was a dangerous tone in Bailey’s voice. “You were just supposed to help me with the fence, remember?” She squinted at the porch. “I see a couple of windows and some siding and a bunch of other stuff up there.”
“We said I’d start with the fence. The house repairs have to be done, and it’s a lot easier to have everything on site so I don’t waste time running back and forth to town.”
Even in the fading light, he could see the worried creases on her forehead. “I understand, but I’m on a tight budget, Dan. You really shouldn’t have bought all that without checking with me first.”
“Don’t worry about that. It’s on me.” He saw her face change, and he rushed on, “Look, I heard what you said to Emily. I get that you’ve got good reasons for keeping your distance, and I don’t blame you. But I’d really like to take care of this for you, and I hope you’ll let me.”
Bailey chewed on her lip for a second. Then she sighed. “I guess we’d better have a talk. When you’re done getting your tools together, please come on inside.” She turned away and walked toward the house.
Dan watched her go with a sinking feeling. Looked like they were having this conversation now, ready or not. He hoped he wouldn’t blow it.
By the time Dan had gathered his tools and stowed the toolbox in the bed of his truck, it was almost fully dark. Bailey had flipped on the living room lamp, and a warm square of bright yellow lit up the front porch. The welcoming golden light made the gathering darkness surrounding him seem even colder and blacker.
It put him in mind of his first few months on the ranch. He and the other hands would work until dark. They’d all come riding up, tired to the bone, and they’d see the ranch house lights glimmering over the hill. At the time, that light had meant food and a safe place to sleep. Those had been pretty valuable commodities for him back then, and he’d been thankful for them. For a long time, the ranch had been the closest thing to a home he’d ever known.
But even back then he’d never felt the same pull he felt now, and he knew why. Bailey hadn’t been there, waiting inside. And he was starting to understand that home for him was wherever Bailey Quinn happened to be.
Even when she was ready to chew off a strip of his hide.
Bailey met him at the door. She wasn’t smiling, but she held out a mug of steaming coffee. “Here. I figured you might be chilly. It’s decaf, so it won’t keep you from sleeping.”
“Thanks.” He accepted the mug, cupping his hands around the warmth. Back in Wyoming he drank fully leaded coffee around the clock, and it had never stopped him from sleeping whenever he had the chance. Caffeine was no match for long hours of ranch work. But at least Bailey cared about whether or not he slept. That was encouraging.
“Sure.” Dan lowered himself onto the overstuffed chair. Bailey settled on the sofa, tucking one leg under herself.
She drew in a breath and looked him in the eye. “First off, I want to thank you again for helping me out with Lyle today. Apparently I misjudged him, and I’m really grateful you came in when you did.”
“You’re welcome. And don’t beat yourself up for not taking Lyle’s measure right off. I’ve been fooled by a few like him myself.”
Bailey’s fingernails tapped the side of her mug. “I’m sorry about what I said to Emily. I was...flustered. But that’s no excuse. You’ve gone out of your way to be kind and helpful ever since I called you. It wasn’t tactful of me to say all that, especially not to your brother’s wife.”
It wasn’t tactful of her to say she didn’t trust him. Not it wasn’t true.
“You were just being honest.” He took a breath. “More honest than you’ve been with me. You keep saying you’ve gotten past what happened between us, but it’s pretty clear you haven’t, not really.”
“I’ve forgiven you.” Bailey looked exasperated, and there was a tired vertical line between her dark brows. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you still scare the life out of me.”
He could actually feel the color draining out of his cheeks. “Bailey, you have to know that I’d never hurt you.” Belatedly he realized how stupid that statement must sound to the woman he’d already hurt so badly. He opened his mouth to explain, but she shook her head.
“That’s not what I meant. Look, you seem to have turned your life around, and I give you a lot of credit for that. But it’s just—for me, you’re like chocolate. Remember how much I always loved chocolate? I’ve been eating healthy for years, but if you put a box of chocolates in front of me right this minute, I’d struggle not to eat them all. Even though I’ve worked really hard to shed those extra pounds. Even though I know better. Do you understand?”
He understood, all right. She was saying that he was bad for her.
“Yeah. I do.”
“Good.” Bailey looked relieved. “Anyway, like I said, the divorce papers will be ready before long, and then you’ll be going back to Wyoming.”
The words came out before he could stop them. “Maybe not.”
“What do you mean?”
Dan hesitated, but it was too late to back off now. “I may not be going back to Wyoming. I’m considering staying on in Pine Valley, maybe for good.”
“What?” Bailey’s mouth dropped open. “But why? Because Abel’s here?”
For a second he considered letting her think that. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it would be so much easier. Smarter, too, probably.
But then he shook his head and looked her in the eye. This might be stupid. It most likely was. But he wasn’t going to start this out with a lie. “No. Because you are.”
Bailey stared. “Dan...”
He couldn’t hold the words back. They rushed out of him like the waters of a stream after a heavy rain. “I want another shot with you, Bailey. I know I don’t deserve one, and I know you’ve got plenty of reasons not to give me one. But I’m going to be up-front with you. You’re still my wife, for the next two weeks, anyhow, and I still—” he stopped short of using the word love, as that would scare her off faster than anything else “—care about you. And I’d like to use that time to prove to you that I’ve changed. If you’ll give me an honest opportunity to do that, then if you tell me no, I’ll believe you. I’ll sign those papers, and we can both get on with our lives.”
“There’s no way you could change my mind about us, Dan.” Bailey sounded sure. “You’d just be wasting your time.”
“Well, it’s my time to waste. Just think it over, Bailey. That’s all I’m asking. We’re both having supper at Abel’s on Friday night.” He set down his coffee and stood up, settling his hat back on his head. He’d better leave before he dug this hole any deeper. “Think on it until then, and we’ll talk again after. In the meantime, I’d best be getting along. I’ll be back around sunrise tomorrow to work on the fence. I should be able to get the rest of the posts in tomorrow so I can start running the wire. Then I’ll see what I can do about the house repairs, if that’s all right by you.”
Bailey stood, too. She looked alarmed, and she didn’t seem to know what to say. He laid a gentle hand on her arm and felt her tense at his touch. He was making her uneasy.
“I’d just like one fair shot at changing your mind before we make our goodbyes permanent. I know our marriage isn’t...real, exactly. But we did say vows to each other, and I think we should be sure before we sign those papers. Don’t you?”
She didn’t answer. She just looked at him, her brown eyes wide.
She sure made a pretty picture, standing there in the middle of this simple room. If things were different, if she was really and truly his wife, this home would belong to the both of them. And their babies. Surely they’d have had children—sons, maybe—with his muscles and her eyes. Or little girls who’d smile up at him and tilt their heads like their mother did.
Something broke loose in his heart and rose up to clog his throat. He needed to get out of here. “I’ll see you on Friday,” he managed. He headed for the door.
“I’m not going to change my mind, Dan.” Bailey spoke quietly behind him.
He hesitated with his hand resting on the old brass doorknob. Then he opened the door and walked out without arguing. He’d said what he needed to say, and most likely he’d blown it. Just like he’d figured.
Outside he flipped up his collar and shivered as he headed across the dark yard to his truck. Winter in Georgia had more of a bite than he’d remembered. Right now the chill seemed to be settling right down into his bones.
* * *
On Friday evening Bailey gloomily considered the welcoming lights of Abel and Emily’s farmhouse through the smudged windshield of her truck. She loved the Whitlock family dearly, and Emily’s cooking was always a treat. But given her seesawing emotions about Dan, Bailey wasn’t looking forward to this supper. Or to the talk Dan likely wanted to have afterward.
She’d been replaying their last conversation over and over again, seeing Dan’s face as he looked at her and asked her to think about giving him another chance.
She’d thought about it, all right. In fact, she hadn’t been able to think about anything else. And the more she thought about it, the more conflicted she became. Right now her heart seemed to be split right down the middle.
That was going to make it awfully hard to do the smart thing and tell him no tonight. But that’s exactly what she was going to do. The whole point of this reunion was to bring their impulsive marriage to a long-overdue end so she could move on with her life. It was a good plan and a sensible one. And she was sticking to it.
But it wasn’t going to be easy.
Dan was already here. His truck was parked by the barn. And there was a silver sedan close to the house that gave Bailey another reason to want to turn tail and run.
Lois Gordon was here, too.
Bailey didn’t dislike Lois. As the doting grandmother of Emily Whitlock’s older twins, Lois could be a very pleasant woman. And the elderly widow had suffered more than her share of tragedy, losing her only son, the twins’ father, when he was barely out of his teens. But she was also the biggest gossip in Pine Valley, and that was saying something. She had an inconvenient talent for ferreting out people’s secrets.
Bailey sighed and opened her truck door. Leaning over, she retrieved the basket of jams and jellies she’d packed up back at the store. Well, she was here now. She’d just have to watch what she said and hope for the best.
Glory, Goosefeather Farm’s resident goose, watched her from the yard. When Bailey shut the truck door, the bird cocked her head and honked l
oudly.
“Oh, hush up,” Bailey scolded.
“I haven’t said anything yet.”
Bailey jumped, and the jars in her basket clattered together as she fumbled to keep her grip on the gift. Dan emerged from the darkened barn.
“You scared the life out of me! What are you doing hanging around out here?”
“Same thing you were doing sitting in that truck. Stalling.” As he drew closer, she caught the usual whiff of cedar, mingled now with hay. The butterflies that seemed to be ever present in her stomach these days woke up and flexed their wings. “I’m not exactly looking forward to seeing Lois Gordon again. She’s hated me ever since I picked roses off her prize bush back when we were in high school.”
Bailey was grateful for the dimness of the twilight. She could feel her cheeks heating up. “That was a long time ago. She’s probably forgotten all about it by now, but I’m sure she’ll find something else to fuss about. Come on. I guess we’d better go in.”
Lois might have forgotten about those roses, but Bailey hadn’t. Dan had picked them for her, and the fragrant pink blossoms had been the first flowers a boy had ever given her. For years she’d kept one dried, papery bloom pressed between the pages of her Bible.
“Before we do—” Dan reached out and caught her arm gently. “Have you thought any more about what I asked you?”
Bailey swallowed. “Please let’s not talk about this right now.” She glanced at the farmhouse. “If Lois overheard us, our secret would be all over town before breakfast tomorrow.”
“Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” When Bailey made a disbelieving noise, Dan went on. “Sorry. It’s just that I’m getting pretty uncomfortable keeping all this a secret from Abel. No,” he went on, when she started to protest. “I won’t say anything tonight, so don’t worry. I’ll wait until we figure out what we’re going to do. But after that, either way, I’m going to want to my brother to know the truth. Abel’s been really kind, welcoming me back like he has. I don’t deserve it, and I don’t take it lightly. If you decide...if we end up going through with the divorce, I’ll ask him to keep all this to himself, of course, but you know Abel.”
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