The Cowboy's Pride

by Charlene Sands

  “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-pointnine 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 guesthou
se.

  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.”<
br />
  “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.”