by Brenda Mott
“No problem.” She smiled, heart pounding. He wasn’t the only one who couldn’t think straight. He was right. They needed to sort things out. Her heart couldn’t take much more of this.
As she walked home, Bailey made herself a promise. Whatever it took, she would get her feelings for Trent out in the open and ask him to do the same. If her future included him, then she needed to know that. And if it didn’t, she needed to move on.
She couldn’t afford to do otherwise.
ZACH LOOKED BETTER than Trent had thought he would. Though he lay in bed in the cardiac care unit of the hospital, his color appeared good, and he smiled when Trent walked into the room.
“Hey, son, it’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you, too, Dad.” Trent leaned over the bed and gingerly gave his father a hug, afraid to hurt him yet craving the physical contact.
“Guess you’re going to have to help your mother look after Zadel Arabians for a little while,” Zach said, “until I can get back on my feet.”
“I’ll do that, but you’ve got to promise me you’ll take it easy once you come home. You have to slow down a little, Dad.” Trent smiled and squeezed Zach’s hand. “You’re not twenty-one anymore, you know.”
“Well, I felt about a hundred when that heart attack hit me,” Zach said, shaking his head.
Della clamped a hand to her own chest. “Lord, I thought I was going to have one right along with him.” She gave Zach a stern look. “I swear, Zachary. Wanting to endurance-race at your age! What am I going to do with you?”
“I’m not the only senior-age endurance rider,” Zach said, defending himself. He turned to Trent. “Wait till you see Jahim. Best-looking stallion you ever laid eyes on. I had entered the twenty-miler coming up Labor Day weekend. Jahim and I were conditioning when I had my episode.”
“Episode, hell!” Della scowled at him. “Let’s just call a spade a spade, shall we?”
Trent hid a smile. Keeping Zach in line had always been something Della was proud to call her job. His dad often bit off more than he could chew, and Della was quick to line him out when she thought he needed it. His parents shared not just a strong and binding love but a deep close friendship.
He envied them that.
It felt good to be here with his parents, even if he did wish it were under better circumstances. Yet he wondered how it would be to set foot on the ranch again. Every time he visited Zadel Arabians it was like coming home. He hadn’t been there since Sarah died.
Memories of his marriage to Amy and the times they’d taken Sarah to the ranch for a visit when she was a baby flooded his mind. Zach and Della had spoiled her no end, and had been sorry to see him and Amy leave for Colorado. Sometimes he himself wished he hadn’t moved there. He felt badly that his parents hadn’t been nearby to take part in every day of Sarah’s life.
But then, if he hadn’t moved to Colorado, he never would’ve met Bailey.
Trent focused on his mom and dad’s conversation. “You just wait,” Zach said. “I’ll be up and around before you know it, and have Jahim ready to race by next year for sure. I’m no quitter.”
“No, but you’re crazy,” Della said. Then she chuckled. “And I’m crazy about you, you old fool.”
Trent laughed, and Della shot him a grin. Her pretty, silver-blond hair, cropped in a practical style, flattered her face and made her blue-gray eyes stand out. Like her husband, Della was youthful beyond her years, her figure still trim, the result of having worked on the ranch for so long.
Trent was proud of his parents. He’d grown up wanting to be just like his dad, and now that he was older, he saw traits of his mother in himself, as well. To have such close family ties, such deep roots, meant everything. Already, his sisters were on their way to be at Zach’s side. They’d always been a tightly knit family.
He could see why Bailey longed for what she’d never had. Yet he still doubted he could ever give it to her.
The nurse came in to check Zach’s blood pressure, and reminded Trent to keep his visit short. “Your father needs his rest,” she said firmly.
“Yes, you do,” Trent agreed over Zach’s protest. “How about if I drive out and feed the horses, Dad. I’ll come back later.”
“Sure, sure. Take Mom’s keys.” Zach gestured toward Della’s purse, and she fished the truck keys out of it.
Trent planted a kiss on his dad’s forehead. “Behave yourself while I’m gone, you hear?”
“What fun is that?” Zach asked. But he seemed a bit tired, and his eyes were already fluttering closed.
Trent took hold of his mother’s shoulders and kissed her cheek. “See you in a bit, Mom.”
He headed down the hall, lost in thought. Maybe it was a good thing he would face the ranch alone for the first time in well over a year. He didn’t want to upset his mother if his emotions overwhelmed him. She’d taken Sarah’s death hard enough.
Rounding the corner, Trent stopped in his tracks. Amy.
She’d just stepped out of the elevator, and her gaze snagged his and held. She hesitated, then walked toward him, her high heels clicking on the linoleum. He hadn’t seen her in months, not since the divorce. She looked good, but different. Dressed in a skirt and suit jacket, her blond hair caught up in a French twist, she appeared every inch the businesswoman. Gone were all signs of the horsewoman who’d lived in blue jeans and once shared his ranch and his life.
“What are you doing here?” He hadn’t meant to be blunt, but he couldn’t help it. Amy had turned her back on him in the final hours of Sarah’s illness, not to mention on their marriage, and he wanted no part of her now.
“Your mother called and told me about your dad’s heart attack,” she said. “I came to see him.”
It shouldn’t bother him that his mother still kept in touch with Amy. After all, she’d been Sarah’s mother. But his little girl was gone, and Trent couldn’t help but wish Amy would vanish from his life. She’d made her choices and she’d hurt him badly. It hadn’t taken long for anger to replace the pain of her leaving. That had faded finally. Now he felt nothing toward the woman who’d once been his wife.
Amy stood with her hand fluttering awkwardly at her throat, while the background noise of the hospital folded around them. “I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. If you’d like, I’ll leave.”
“There’s no need,” Trent said. “I’m on my way out. Take care of yourself, Amy.”
“Trent, wait.” She laid her hand on his arm, and a cold chill crept over his skin as though a spider had skittered there.
He tightened his jaw, and she let go of him. For a moment, pain flickered in her eyes, as if it hurt her that he wouldn’t want her to touch him. What did she expect?
“I, uh, wanted to tell you something. Before you heard it somewhere else.”
“What’s that?” He shifted from one foot to the other, impatient to be on his way. To push Amy out of sight, out of mind.
“I’m getting married.”
She couldn’t have shocked him more if she’d stuck him with an electric cattle prod. Not that he cared what she did with her life. It just felt odd to know she was moving on without him. A voice inside his head whispered that Amy had moved on long ago. Besides, he’d entertained thoughts of what it might be like to share his life with Bailey. Amy, too, had every right to happiness.
“Congratulations,” he said. “I hope you’re happy with your new life.” But even to his own ears, the words did not sound sincere.
“Don’t be that way,” Amy said.
“What way?” He crossed his arms and glared at her.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She rubbed her forehead, as though staving off a headache. “God, here we go again.” She laughed without humor. “We haven’t seen or spoken to each other for the better part of a year, and we’re already sniping.” She sighed. “I don’t want that, Trent. I still feel a connection to your parents. Can’t we at least be civil to each other? Can’t you r
ealize that life goes on, with or without us?”
He shrugged indifferently. Amy would never understand how he felt. “Fine.”
She shot him a look.
“What?” Irritation flooded him. “Do you want me to kiss the bride? Dance at your wedding? Offer to be your fiancé’s best man?”
Anger darkened her eyes as she glared back at him. “You don’t have to be sarcastic, Trent.”
Suddenly, all the fight drained from him. She was right. He was acting like a jackass. If Amy wanted to remarry, that was her business.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I guess you just caught me by surprise.”
She nodded, then smiled. “It took me by surprise, too. I met Eric through a singles’ group a friend talked me into attending. He’s divorced, with two little boys. And talk about a small world. Eric went to high school in the Denver area.”
But Trent was no longer listening. His train of thought had screeched to a halt at the mention of the two little boys. Hurt and anger flooded him all over again. How could Amy stand there, smiling and talking about her new husband-to-be and his kids, as though this ready-made family was an easy replacement for Sarah?
He worked his jaw muscles back and forth, wondering how he could ever allow himself to fall in love with Bailey and start over. Nothing—no one—could ever take the place of Sarah and the life he’d had with her.
“Look, Amy, I hate to run, but I really need to go take care of Dad’s horses.” He glanced pointedly down the hall toward the cardiac care unit. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” His tone let her know that his words weren’t meant as an invitation for the two of them to meet up again.
She nodded. “Point taken, Trent. I’ll be gone by the time you get back.” With that, she strode away.
Trent headed for the elevator, where he pushed the down button with more force than was necessary.
Why was he so upset, not just with Amy but with himself? He wasn’t the one who’d turned his back on Sarah, the one who’d visited her grave only once. And he’d certainly never seriously considered making a new life for himself, with a substitute family. He could never, ever do that to Sarah’s memory.
Yet his relationship with Bailey didn’t feel like a betrayal. The feel of her kisses, her touch, the way she smiled, drifted into his mind. What he shared with Bailey seemed more right than he cared to admit.
The elevator doors slid open, and he stepped inside. Just as quickly, they closed.
Life could be like that. One door sliding open, another closing rapidly behind you almost before you knew it.
Did Amy have the right idea after all? Was moving on a natural part of the healing process, one he’d been afraid to face?
He has two little boys…
Trent shivered as Amy’s words rang through his mind.
He might fall in love with Bailey, and he might even want to marry her someday. But could he ever really give her what she so desperately wanted?
Children were obviously high on her priority list. But as much as he’d enjoyed the company of Macy and the kids in her 4–H group, and as much as he’d gotten used to being around Macy again, he still didn’t think he’d ever want to have more children of his own.
Trent exited the hospital, suddenly glad to be away from its cloying, antiseptic smell—one that would haunt him always. Would the ghosts and the pain of his past never let him go? How in the world was he ever supposed to live and love again, the way he once had when Sarah was alive and well?
And how was he supposed to forget about Bailey, if he ended up unable to make a commitment to her?
Bailey was a lot of fun to be around. He liked her spunk and her positive outlook, even though he didn’t really see life the way she did. One of his greatest fears was that her optimism would rub off on him. That had already happened on more than one occasion. Yet how long could it last? That was the problem. There was no guarantee that the two of them could be happy for a lifetime.
So where did that leave them?
Trent headed down the sidewalk, letting the sounds of traffic surround him, feeling frustrated and uncertain. He wanted to love Bailey.
He just wasn’t sure how to go about it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
TRENT WOULD BE PROUD of her, Bailey was certain. Ten days had passed since he’d left for California, and if she did say so herself, she’d done a more than passable job of taking care of Windsong. Macy had helped out, and even Wade Darland had stopped by to make sure things were running smoothly.
Trent had called three times in the past week, once to let her know his father was doing well and the other two times to see if everything was okay at Windsong.
The first time he’d called, they’d laughed about never having talked to each other on the phone before. It had felt a little strange, but Bailey had loved the way Trent’s sexy voice had sounded, low and deep, making her toes curl. He planned to come home tomorrow. She couldn’t wait. She’d missed him more than she’d ever thought she would. Yet at the same time, her stomach whirled at her anticipation of the talk he’d promised her they would have upon his return.
Trying not to think about that, Bailey made her way across the pasture and climbed through the fence to Trent’s property. The wind picked up, shaking the leaves of the trees in a musical dance, and a chill claimed the air, turning it crisp and sharp. It carried with it the scent of fall, reminding Bailey that summer would officially end in a matter of days. Around her, dark clouds moved across the sky, and as she hurried to get the horses fed, fat drops of rain fell, slowly and intermittently at first, then heavier and more steadily.
In his paddock, Alysana raced in circles, sensing the incoming storm, his black mane and tail flying in the wind. His red coat looked like a streak of fire as he ran, calling to the mares in their nearby enclosures.
Bailey hesitated outside the fence, watching the blood bay stallion. He was used to being in the barn, and she was sure Trent would never leave his prized horse outside in a storm like this. She glanced up at the clouds. The sky looked wicked—dark gray and black—and streaks of lightning split the clouds even as she watched.
Her mind made up, Bailey hurried toward the stable for a halter and lead rope. She knew stallions required firm handling, and she was certainly no expert in the matter. But surely she could manage to catch Alysana and lead him to his stall.
Outside, she opened the paddock gate and stepped through, careful to latch it securely behind her. Quietly, she spoke to the horse. “Easy, boy. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Come on, Alysana, let’s get you inside, where it’s warm and dry.” The bay perked his ears, focused on Bailey, then with a shrill whinny, began to race in circles once more.
Bailey spent several futile minutes walking calmly in his wake, unable to draw close to him. He snorted, and continued to circle the enclosure while the rain poured down, soaking her and the horse to the skin.
Frustrated, Bailey stopped and stood still. Alysana halted, as well, gazing curiously at her. He took a step or two in her direction. “That’s it,” she coaxed. “Come on, boy.” The bay stretched his neck to sniff her outstretched hand, then whirled and bolted again. Bailey cursed softly under her breath. This was getting her nowhere.
She headed for the barn, where she scooped some sweet feed into a bucket and pocketed several horse cookies, then made her way back outside. Within minutes, Alysana gave in to the temptation of Bailey’s treats. Standing just out of reach, he extended his neck as far as he could and took a cookie from the palm of her hand. Two cookies later, she managed to persuade him to come close enough to stick his nose into the grain bucket. Quickly, Bailey slipped the halter over his head and buckled it in place.
With a feeling of triumph, she abandoned the black rubber bucket, needing both hands free to control the stallion. “See,” she crooned, reaching into her pocket for another cookie as she led Alysana toward the gate. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Huh?” She patted his neck, loving the scent of his rain-drenched
coat. They stepped through the gate, and as Bailey closed it, a huge streak of lightning split the sky, followed quickly by a resounding clap of thunder.
Startled, Alysana snorted and bolted to the end of his lead rope, nearly jerking it from Bailey’s grasp. It was all she could do to hang on to him. She let go of the gate, gripping the rope in both hands as she faced the horse. “Whoa, boy. Easy.” The wind caught the gate and slammed it against the pipe-rail fence with a metallic clang, spooking Alysana all over again. He lunged and his shoulder slammed into Bailey. She stumbled backward, lost her footing and plopped down on her butt in the mud.
Fear rushed through her, not so much that the horse would trample her but that she would lose her grip on the lead rope. If Alysana got away, there was no telling where he might run off to. He could get loose on the road and be hit by a car in the downpour. With all her might, Bailey clung to the lead rope as she struggled to regain her footing.
She gained her balance and staggered upright just as she heard the sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway. With no time to look over and see who it was, Bailey held tightly to the rope, working her way up it hand over hand toward Alysana. If she could get close to the stallion, maybe she could soothe him.
“Easy, boy. Whoa, Alysana. Whoa!” She managed to get up beside his shoulder once more. But he shook his head and fought her, making her arms feel like wet spaghetti as she tugged him toward the barn. She’d just reached the door when Trent’s voice sounded in her ear.
“I’ve got him.”
With a start, Bailey looked up, straight into his eyes, as gray as the storm. Her breath caught in her throat. “Trent.” Warmth curled through her. “What are you doing home so soon?”
He took the rope from her, and Bailey found it difficult to uncurl her fists after having held on to the lead so tightly. Her fingers burned where the rope had chafed them, and water dripped from her hair into her eyes.
“I took an earlier flight home than I’d originally intended,” he said over his shoulder as he led Alysana into the barn. “Good thing, too.” He cast her a look of reprimand, and Bailey’s heart jumped.