The Cowboy's Pride

by Charlene Sands

  Each day they’d go about their business, Clay working at Worth Ranch, and Trish working on the fundraiser. Some afternoons they’d meet at Penny’s Song where Clay would oversee the facility and make sure all was running right. Trish spent her time at the general store. She enjoyed keeping the place up, interacting with the kids. It was the best-suited job for a woman with a baby.

  On the days Trish didn’t see Clay, she was thinking about him. And in the evenings when he would come over, they’d wind up in bed, making love half the night.

  Trish understood that this affair, fling or whatever it was between them, was temporary, yet the past three and a half weeks had been pretty glorious. She had a few days left in Red Ridge until the Penny’s Song fundraising gala. She’d leave for Nashville a day to two later. Her life had to get back on track.

  Clay managed Meggie into the carrier that was strapped over his shoulders. “Here, better cover her head.” Trish handed a bonnet up. Meggie didn’t squawk when Clay fastened the ties. Meggie was ready to go, but Trish wasn’t sure she was. She mounted her mare and with Wes and two other volunteers, Clay led the group on a tour of the property.

  Meggie kicked her legs out, thrilled to be atop the horse. She babbled incoherent words, but the excitement in her voice was easy enough to understand.

  “She’s loving this,” Clay said, smug.

  “Mmm.” Too much, Trish thought. Clay looked natural with a baby plastered to his chest, riding his horse. It was a hard scene to watch because they’d be leaving soon and Meggie wouldn’t have Clay’s chest to curl up into at night anymore. She wouldn’t hear his baritone voice lulling her to sleep or have his strong arms rocking her when all else failed.

  Meggie was falling for Clay and it was the last thing she wanted. But Trish’s fears multiplied when she thought Meggie wasn’t the only one. If she probed deep into her heart she’d find the same was true of her. Instead of mulling that over until her head ached, she sucked in a fresh breath and tried to enjoy the children and the Red Ridge landscape.

  Halfway into the ride, Clay caught her attention and pointed his chin down at Meggie. Trish’s gaze lowered to her. She found her fast asleep, her head slumped and bobbing gently against Clay’s chest. He put his hand there to straighten her head and give her a pillow as she slept. “You want to ride back?” he asked quietly.

  “I think the fresh air and altitude knocked her out. We probably should.”

  On a nod, Clay turned the horse, spoke a few words to Wes and the other volunteers and Trish followed Clay back to Penny’s Song. Once at the stables, Clay dismounted, his naturally smooth moves keeping her daughter sound asleep in the BABYBJÖRN. Trish dismounted her mare and took the reins of both horses leading them to Travis, one of the older children who’d assumed the role of stable hand. “If you wouldn’t mind,” she said. “I’ve got to get Meggie home.”

  “Sure thing, Mrs. Worth. I’ll take good care of the horses.”

  A few minutes later, Clay had Meggie safely secured in the car seat and she hadn’t missed a beat. She still slept soundly.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” he said.

  “Oh, uh, can’t tonight. I’m having dinner with Callie.”

  Clay pursed his lips with a hint of a frown. “A girls’ night out?”

  “Yep, no boys allowed. Just me, Meggie and Callie.” Trish tried to make light of it, but she was grateful that she could put some space between them. They’d grown closer these past few weeks and yet neither one of them had spoken about their feelings for each other. As far as she knew, their relationship was all about making up for lost time, sexually. And nothing more.

  “Gotcha.” Clay stole a glance at Meggie one last time, the warmth in his eyes undeniable. Then he turned to Trish. “Try not to have too much fun. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He tipped his hat and then pivoted on his heel and strode away. Trish watched him go, his shoulders broad and straight as an afternoon shadow followed him. He looked larger than life, but then Clay always had been, she mused. He’d been a star, a man comfortable in his own skin, a man who’d had the world laid out at his feet. He’d achieved all he’d set out to accomplish in life. Except for one thing—he’d wanted children and Trish had been the woman to deny him. She’d also questioned his honor in their marriage and made him see his flaws. In short, she’d been a burdensome bump in his very smooth road.

  As he reached the bunkhouse, Suzy Johnson came up to greet him. They laughed about something, Suzy tossing her head back, her eyes fastened to Clay’s. She touched her hand to his arm as they walked away together. Trish’s heart grew heavy with sorrow. Once Trish was gone from the ranch, Suzy would step right into Clay’s life without making any kind of ripple. She wouldn’t cause him an iota of trouble. She’d slide into place beside him and give him everything he wanted.

  Trish was beyond jealousy now. Regret ate at her. She surrendered to it and tears welled in her eyes. A painful thought nagged at her and the same old feelings of rejection and betrayal haunted her. Seeing Suzy with Clay brought her a sterling picture of her own future. Her heart crumbled as she finally faced the hard truth.

  You don’t belong here.

  You never did.

  They played poker for pride, more than anything else. Since the inception of Penny’s Song, whenever Tagg, Jackson and Clay got together it was sibling rivalry at stake and bragging rights. Whoever won the pot in the end donated the money to the family charity anyway. Penny’s Song always came out the winner, so Clay usually didn’t mind playing with his brothers.

  But tonight his head wasn’t in the game and it was apparent by the lack of chips on the table in front of him. He was losing.

  He brought a shot glass to his lips and sipped. He felt the slow burn of whiskey in his throat but it didn’t numb the uneasy feeling in his gut. Something was up with Trish today. She seemed different and all too eager to send him away. Not that he’d spent every night with her, but many of them. They’d had some good times together using the pretence of working on the fundraiser to see each other. But soon, she’d be gone and Clay would move on from there.

  “Your move, bro,” Tagg said. “You betting or what?”

  “Hang on,” he said, ignoring the impatience in his brother’s voice. Clay stared at his cards. He held a pair of eights. Not the best hand, but Clay was in a hell of a mood and didn’t give a damn about winning. He made a bet, pushing in half his chips.

  When had he not cared about winning?

  Jackson went all in, which would wipe Clay out, if his eights didn’t hold. He shoved in the rest of his chips.

  Jackson tossed his cards face-up showing a spade flush to Clay’s measly pair. His brother curled his lips in a triumphant smile as he raked in his winnings. “You’re playing sucker poker tonight.”

  “Yeah, what’s up with you?” Tagg asked. “You’re tight-lipped tonight.”

  “I’ve got a lot on my mind with the gala coming up,” he pointed out.

  Tagg eyed him suspiciously. “Oh yeah, anything wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” Except his life. The hell of it was, he thought he could pass off making love to Trish these past few weeks as pure lust. He’d purge her from his system and send her packing back to Nashville. Then he’d resume his uncomplicated life with Suzy. But damn it, it wasn’t as easy as he thought.

  Nothing about Trish was ever easy.

  And that cute kid of hers? Meggie was innocent in all this and Clay felt for her loss. She’d been orphaned. Somehow, that bundle of smelly diapers, stained bibs and ear-piercing cries had wormed her way into his heart. When Meggie’s image flashed before him, all he saw was the big adorable smile she had for him. Saying goodbye to both females didn’t sit well.

  “If Trish’s running the whole shebang, I bet it’ll be a helluva night,” Jackson commented.

  “She is,” Clay said, “and it will be. I have no doubts.”

  “So, after the gala, she’s gone?” Tagg asked.

  C
lay polished off his whiskey, setting his glass down slowly. “Yeah, I suppose. It’ll be over and done with.” He stared at the shot glass in his hand.

  Silence.

  Finally, Tagg spoke up. “Okay, well, I guess we’re done with poker. We can catch the tail end of the Diamondbacks game. Callie won’t be home for another hour or two.”

  Clay lifted his lids. “How do you know that? You got her on a curfew or something?”

  The jibe sailed right over Tagg as he reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “Technology is a beautiful thing.” He read the screen silently. “Let’s see…she’s watching an old movie with Trish right now.” Then with a sheepish grin, he added, “Texting is my new normal.”

  Jackson chuckled and the sound grated on Clay’s nerves. “That’s one way to keep track of your wife.”

  Tagg shook his head, taking the teasing in stride. Nothing got to him these days. He was “all in” with Callie and the happiest Clay had ever seen him. “Yeah, well, talk to me when your woman is carrying your child. Tell me you won’t want to know how she’s doing every minute of the day.”

  Jackson’s mouth opened and then shut. Usually nothing stopped him from spouting off. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Damn right.” Tagg turned to Clay, changing the subject. “Hey, I caught your interview on the radio the other day…pretty good, even if you sounded a little rusty.”

  Clay couldn’t fault his brother’s honesty. He was rusty and far removed from his celebrity days. He’d come back to ranching and the Worth empire at the right time in his life. “I’d rather be strapped to the grill of a ten-wheeler going eighty miles an hour than give an interview, but I couldn’t say no to helping the charity. I took one for the team.”

  His brothers nodded.

  Clay scraped his chair back and rose from his seat. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk or poker or hanging out watching baseball. “Think I’ll be going. Thanks for the game.”

  Tagg gestured with an elaborate wave of his hand to sit back down. “Stay put for one more minute.”

  “Why? What’s up?”

  Tagg poured two fingers of whiskey into all three shot glasses, then rose from his seat. Leaning forward he lifted his glass, his voice filled with pride. “I want to make a toast to my…son. We’re having a boy. He’ll be Rory Taggart Worth.”

  Jackson’s mouth curled into his signature grin. “Hey, congratulations.”

  Clay lifted his glass in an air toast. “That’s great news, Tagg. Dad would be honored.”

  “Yeah, he would have,” Tagg agreed.

  Clay sat back down. He needed that drink now. Not that he begrudged his brother any happiness. Tagg went through hell when his first wife died and now he had a second chance with Callie and a son to raise to adulthood. Tagg had paid the price and now was finally getting the life he deserved. But that didn’t stop Clay’s gut from grinding, though, or his head from throbbing. And it had nothing to do with Tagg or his future son.

  Clay had failed his father. He couldn’t grant him his dying wish, a man he’d looked up to, a man he fully admired. When Clay made a vow, he kept it and this one had been the most important of his life. All this time, he’d blamed Trish for that. She’d been his scapegoat, the one he could point his finger at when he had a mind to determine fault. All this time, he hadn’t forgiven her.

  You made another vow, jackass. Just as important. To her.

  And he’d blown it.

  The notion blew his mind. Had he failed Trish as well? He’d married her, promising to love, honor and cherish her. He’d always blamed her for what ailed their marriage. Now, Clay took a chilling hard look at his part in their breakup. Damn it. The clarity sucker punched him below the waist. He wasn’t expecting this.

  Why now? Why had he finally admitted it to himself?

  Hell if he knew for sure.

  Clay went home that night feeling like crap. He climbed the stairs to his bedroom and wrestled his way out of his clothes. Then he laid on the bed and poured one-hundred-dollar-a-bottle whiskey down his throat. Seeing the truth about himself was a hard pill to swallow and tonight Clay chose not to see it at all. His mind fuzzed out and his limbs gave way to the numbing effects of alcohol. Grateful for the peace, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

  Morning was late in coming. Clay’s head hurt like a sonofabitch. He’d drunk himself silly last night, but lying flat on his butt was not an option. He had work to do, and judging by the sun’s position on the horizon, he’d already burned enough daylight. Moving slowly, he lifted his head off the pillow. Pain shot through his skull, reminding him of his younger days of foolhardy drinking. Back then, staying upright had been a major accomplishment.

  He shifted his feet onto the floor and leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. He rubbed his scalp. Piranha swam in his head and nipped at his brain. He swore up and down. He’d been an idiot.

  His cell phone rang a tune; the sound of Kid Rock grated on every last nerve in his body. He sat on the bed and looked through the mess of clothes on the floor. He heard the sound in between his pants and socks. Constant jackhammering continued in his head. He grabbed for the phone and hurriedly slid open the screen, cutting off the blast of music. “What?”

  “Uh, Clay, it’s Raul Onofre from Southwest Bank.”

  Onofre was a friend from school who’d taught him how to read music and play guitar. They used to jam together. Now, Raul was his banker. “Did we have an appointment today?”

  “No, no, nothing like that. But there’s a little confusion I thought you might be able to clear up. I got a call from a lender in Nashville this morning. It seems that your wife, Trisha, is seeking a home loan from them. They’re prequalifying her, but somehow the paperwork got to me for approval. I know the situation with your wife…uh, unless that’s changed. Apparently, she’s insisting that they not use your assets to qualify her.”

  Trish was buying a house? That was news to him. Oh, man. It took him a minute to process that. Anger filled his crowded head. He tried reasoning it away. He shouldn’t be surprised that Trish would want to move Meggie into something bigger than an apartment. The kid deserved to live in a nice home.

  Clay shut his eyes. A home in Nashville meant Trish was cementing their divorce. It meant she was moving forward and making a life without him. He knew this was coming. Yet the reality felt like a body slam to a brick wall. His brain felt too muddy to sort it out. Raul held on the line patiently. “I appreciate the call, Raul. Truth is, I’m going to have to get back to you on this.”

  “You got it, Clay. Uh…everything else okay?”

  “Yeah, just fine. Busy with the fundraiser. You’re coming, right?”

  He laughed. “Are you kidding? It’s the biggest thing to happen in Red Ridge in a decade. After that stellar interview you gave, my wife would hang my hide if I didn’t take her.”

  “All right. I’ll see you then.”

  Clay hung up the phone. He’d sobered quickly. He had to face facts.

  Trish and Meggie were leaving Red Ridge in three days.

  Nine

  Trish sat outside in the small Red Ridge café attached to the inn, wedged between an intricate iron fence covered with pink-hued azaleas and another café table. Calderone’s was known for its stone-ground tortillas, to-die-for guacamole and margaritas made in seventeen different flavors. Seventeen. She would have liked to try just one today.

  Meggie sat upright in her stroller, but her shelf life these days wasn’t more than ten minutes. Unless of course, she’d fall asleep. But Trish didn’t want her to sleep now. She wanted her wide-eyed and alert during lunch.

  “He’ll be here soon,” she said to the baby. “I can’t wait to see him.”

  “He’s right here. Right on time.”

  Trish lifted her gaze to the familiar voice. “Blake!” She jumped up and wrapped her arms around her brother’s neck. She squeezed tight and hung on. He’d come from California to meet Meggie and attend the Penny’s So
ng gala. “Oh, I can’t believe you’re here. You’re actually here.”

  “I told you I’d come.”

  “I know. I know. But it’s been so long. And I’ve missed you.”

  “Missed you, too, sis.”

  They broke their embrace and she studied his face. She’d seen him looking healthy for years, but even now when she gazed at him, the boy with the sunken cheeks, bald head and stick-thin limbs still plagued her brain. It was as if she had to absorb his present good health and let it seep into her consciousness to make sure that little boy who’d almost died was alive, vital and healthy now.

  “You haven’t met Meggie yet.”

  “No, I haven’t.” He dropped down into a crouch and peered at the baby in the stroller. “Hey, hello there, beautiful. I’m your uncle Blake. And I plan on spoiling you rotten.”

  “You’ve already sent her a dozen toys.”

  He touched Meggie’s hand, gazing at her for a moment with warmth in his eyes. Then he looked over his shoulder at her. “You’re a mom now. I guess I had to see it to believe it.”

  He stood and she met his eyes with a tilt of her head. “I am. It’s coming slowly, but I feel like a mother more and more now. I came about it differently than most women.” She blinked her eyes several times. “I never do anything the normal way, do I?”

  He nodded with a knowing smile. “You and me both.”

  It did her heart good to see him regard his past with earnest resignation. Blake didn’t dwell. He had too much living to do and he’d always had a good attitude. Some say it’s what kept him alive, made him healthy.

  “So, you want to eat?” He pulled out the chair for her and together they took their seats. The waiter brought them chips and guacamole right away and two glasses of water.

  During lunch they caught up on each other’s news. Trish was happy to note how well Blake’s partnership was doing with GamerX, his up-and-coming video-game company, her brother being the designer extraordinaire of other worlds. Being alone in a hospital room away from everyday life had sparked his genius and imagination at a young age. While other kids were outside playing baseball, soccer or starting a rock band, Blake had been playing those games in his head and Trish would like to think his time in the hospital had not been wasted. It was all in the master plan. Now, he spent most of his time in California where his company was located or traveling the country to sell his ideas.