by Ann Roth
“I’d like to see you again before I leave for Boise,” she said. “How about Monday?”
“That sounds fine,” her grandmother said. “But I don’t want to sit around the apartment and grieve. I need to keep busy.”
“Is there something you’d like to do, Sarah?” her grandfather asked.
“I’ve looked around a little, but I’d love to explore more of the area. How about showing me some of your favorite places? I’ll drive.”
The Beckers both looked relieved at the suggestion.
“That’d be fine,” her grandfather said. “Along the way, we’ll have lunch someplace. There isn’t much to see around here, but I suppose we could show you Red Deer, where we lived after we left Saddlers Prairie. It’s a good forty miles from here, and bigger than Saddlers Prairie, but not as nice.”
Sarah remembered the name of the town from when Clay had gone to the auction there. “Sure. I’d like to see it.”
“All right. Clay’s fairly new to this part of Montana. I wonder if he’s been up there. Tell him he’s welcome to join us.”
Sarah bit her lip. “That’s very nice of you. He was there recently for an auction, and right now he’s pretty busy with his ranch.”
“That’s right, he bought that herd of cattle.”
“Did you tell him about Tammy?” her grandmother asked, looking as if the answer mattered very much to her.
Sarah shook her head. “After I called you, I came straight here.” Which, while true, wasn’t the whole truth.
“I’m sure he’ll want to know.”
She sounded just like Mrs. Yancy. Not wanting to explain, Sarah busied herself clearing off the coffee table and loading the dishwasher.
“I’ll see you Monday,” she told the Beckers at the door.
“Sarah, will you do something for us?” her grandmother asked.
“Anything.”
“Would you mind calling us Grandma and Grandpa?”
Her heart full, Sarah smiled. “I’d love to.”
* * *
SATURDAY AND SUNDAY, between inseminating the cattle, tracking down a couple of heifers that had strayed off and dealing with a worrisome wolf sighting, Clay spent a busy weekend at the ranch. He hated leaving at the end of the day and looked forward to the time when his own house was finished and he could move in.
Late Monday morning, Angela phoned with the name of the lab her doctor had suggested for her blood test. She said she was going there the following day. Clay drove immediately to the Flagg Clinic lab in Elk Ridge, where he gave a blood sample and left instructions where to send it. The fifty-mile round trip was well worth the time and gas.
On the drive back to Saddlers Prairie, he thought about calling Sarah. He hadn’t seen her since Friday night, and it felt like weeks. He would talk to her tonight. He reached the rental house with an empty belly and a burning desire to head for the ranch and lose himself in physical labor.
Shortly after he inhaled several PB and J sandwiches, someone knocked at his door. Sarah.
His heart hammered in his chest. He’d tell her now.
But instead of Sarah, Mrs. Yancy stood on the porch. “Hello, Clay,” she said. “I’m glad I caught you at home. I brought you some cookies.”
Not sure what she was up to, he studied her warily before accepting the plate. “Uh, thanks. Do you want to come in?”
“I’m due at a friend’s soon, but I will for a minute or two.”
He gestured her into the living room. She sat down on the sagging sofa that was probably older than Clay.
“I hope you don’t mind my dropping by, but since I don’t have your phone number, I—”
“Has something happened to Sarah?” he asked, suddenly tense and alert.
Mrs. Yancy’s eyes widened. “She’s all right.”
Exhaling, he nodded, leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “Then why are you here?”
“I like a man who gets right to the point. My John was the same way. By your reaction, I see that you two haven’t talked this weekend.”
“I’ve been busy with my ranch.”
She nodded. “Sarah explained that you two won’t be seeing each other again, but I thought she’d at least call you.”
News to Clay, bad news if it was true. He definitely wanted to see more of Sarah, and had assumed she was of the same mind. Before he could think about it further, his visitor dropped her bomb.
“You probably aren’t aware that she’s decided to leave tomorrow morning instead of Wednesday.”
Three years ago she’d behaved the same way, had cut out a day early without so much as a goodbye. Talk about the past smacking a guy in the face. “This is the first I’ve heard about that,” Clay said.
Mrs. Yancy gave her head a sad shake. “I really hoped she would call and tell you what’s happened.”
Clay eyed her. “You said she was okay.”
“In one sense, she is. Overall, though, she really isn’t.”
The woman talked in riddles. He cocked his eyebrow. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. In plain English, tell me what’s going on.”
“All right, but she doesn’t know that I’m here, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything. I struggled all day yesterday and today over whether or not I should come when she asked me to stay out of this. But I think you should know that yesterday morning, she found out that Tammy died in a car accident a few years ago.”
Clay wasn’t sure what he’d expected to hear, but not this. He’d bet his ranch that Sarah had never remotely considered that her biological mother had passed on.
She’d been so eager to find Tammy and get her questions answered. Now any chance of that was gone, and he could only guess at the pain she must be feeling.
He couldn’t believe she hadn’t called and told him, felt both sorry for her loss and furious that she’d kept something so important from him.
Didn’t she get how much he cared?
Mrs. Yancy blinked in surprise, and he realized he was scowling. He quickly assumed the friendly expression he used with his fans. “Where is she now?” he asked mildly.
The woman exhaled. “She’s spending the day with her grandparents. As you can imagine, they’re pretty upset about Tammy, and she wanted to be with them before she left for Boise. I’ll tell you, I’m going to miss that girl. She’s been wonderful company.”
She gave Clay a meaningful look, as if expecting him to comment that yeah, Sarah was the best, even if she did have a bad habit of taking off without a word. But she didn’t pause long enough for him to open his mouth.
“Sarah picked them up at ten this morning, and they’re showing her around the area. She said something about lunch in Red Deer.”
A town Clay had visited twice. The other day, for the auction, and before that, to check out available ranchland. He hadn’t been impressed. Size- and population-wise, the town was bigger than Saddlers Prairie, but not nearly as nice, and it was almost twice as far from Sunset Manor.
“Why would they take her to Red Deer?” he wondered.
“Sarah didn’t say.”
“Any idea when she’ll be back?”
“She said she’d be back before dinner, but I don’t know exactly when. She needs to pack tonight and whatnot, so I expect she’ll be at the house in the next hour or so. When you talk to her, remind her that this is my potluck and quilting bee night, and that I won’t be back until after eleven.”
Mrs. Yancy looked him right in the eye, practically ordering him to make good use of the privacy.
Clay intended to do just that. He and Sarah needed to straighten out a few things. For starters, that he wasn’t about to let her waltz out of his life again. He definitely wanted to keep seeing her. He also wanted to be there for her,
especially now, when she needed him.
In the grand scheme of his life, he wasn’t sure what that meant. He only knew that he wasn’t letting her skip out without seeing her and talking face-to-face.
After letting Mattson know he wouldn’t make it to the ranch that day, he climbed into the pickup and headed for Mrs. Yancy’s to wait for Sarah.
Chapter Seventeen
By the time Sarah tearfully hugged her grandparents goodbye and dropped them off Monday afternoon, she’d spent over six hours in the car. Smart move, doing all that exploring the day before the long drive back to Boise.
As she headed up the highway toward Saddlers Prairie, she thought about the grief and joy that had filled her day—sorrow over losing Tammy before ever having the chance to meet her and happiness at connecting with her grandparents.
She’d promised to come back again soon, and was leaning strongly toward moving closer to them. She certainly liked the area—except for Red Deer. It was too far away from Sunset Manor and seemed tired and drab, and not at all welcoming.
Sarah preferred Saddlers Prairie. The rolling plains and the huge expanse of sky overhead felt right to her, as though she’d come home. Her roots were here, so in a sense, she had.
But she wasn’t ready to make such a big decision just yet and hadn’t mentioned the idea.
If she were to move, living in the same town as Clay could be awkward, especially when she was in love with him. On the other hand, they were both adults. Surely they could handle the occasional meeting.
Anyway, she had plenty of time to make up her mind, since fixing up the house in Boise and getting it sold was bound to take a while.
Mrs. Yancy’s street was just ahead. Sarah glanced at the digital clock on the dash. It was after five. No doubt, her busy landlady had already left for her quilting party.
Sarah envied her robust social life. Her own evening loomed ahead like a dull penny. Dinner and packing for the drive home would take up some of her time. But then what?
As she turned onto the street, a wave of loneliness flooded her. Quickly she pushed it aside. No pity parties allowed. She’d find a movie on TV tonight, and make buttered popcorn. Any movie would... Sarah squinted at what looked like Clay’s pickup parked out front. Afraid she might be hallucinating, she blinked a few times.
No, that was his pickup.
He was sprawled on the stoop, leaning back on his elbows, his long legs crossed at the ankles and a piece of hay clasped firmly between his lips. The perfect picture of a gorgeous man on a lazy afternoon.
Sarah’s wayward heart lifted. Frowning, she parked behind the truck. What in the world was he doing here?
Clay tossed the hay and straightened, and she knew she was about to find out.
* * *
AS SERIOUSLY PISSED off as Clay was, he blanked his expression and pushed to his feet with none of the anger he felt.
“You’re leaving tomorrow morning,” he said by way of greeting. “You’re supposed to stay until Wednesday.”
She raised her chin defensively. “Hello to you, too. It’s only one day early. I accomplished everything I set out to do when I arrived in Saddlers Prairie, and there really isn’t anything left for me here. Who told you, anyway?”
Nothing left for her here? That stung. “Like you, I never divulge my source.” Clay gestured at the stoop. “Sit down.”
“I can’t. I have to pack.”
“You’ll have plenty of time later. Sit,” he ordered, using the tone that meant business.
“Oh, all right.” She sat down, perching stiffly on the concrete edge.
Clay joined her. “I heard about Tammy,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s so sad.” She bent down and plucked a dandelion bud by the stem. “Mrs. Yancy told you a lot,” she said, muttering something about her landlady’s big mouth.
“I’m glad someone did.”
She looked at him sideways, and he shook his head. “I’ve been in on this search for her since the day you showed up at my place,” he said. “I found the footlocker, called you to come get it and was there when you opened it. I drove you to meet your grandparents for the first time, and I sat through a pretty uncomfortable dinner with them. I figure I’ve earned the right to hear about something that important.”
She had her eyes on that dandelion bud, so he cupped her chin and forced eyed contact. “Dammit, Sarah, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because right now you have so much on your plate.”
“We all do. You still could’ve—should’ve—told me.”
“Okay. I’m sorry!”
She jerked her head away, but not before he saw the remorse on her face. Somewhat mollified, he blew out a breath. “Apology accepted. How are you dealing with Tammy’s death?”
Her shoulders slumped. “It hurts. I hate that I’ll never meet her, and never find out who my father is.”
“At least you know what happened to her.”
“There is that.”
“How are your grandparents doing?”
“As you can imagine, they’re devastated. They’re also dealing with guilt and regret. They wish they’d been more accepting of the pregnancy and wish they’d searched harder for her.”
As Sarah talked, she began to relax, and the tense knot in Clay’s belly loosened. “That’s got to be hard on them,” he said. “And on you.”
“It’s been rough, but something good has come out of the pain. They asked me to call them Grandma and Grandpa.”
Joy shone from her eyes, making her so beautiful that Clay almost forgot to breathe. Feelings he didn’t want to examine flooded his chest, and he could no longer hold on to his anger.
He wanted to wrap Sarah in his arms and hold her close, but right now, things between them were pretty tenuous. “That’s great,” he said, leaning back on his hands. “Now they really are your family.”
“Yes.” She smiled. “This is going to sound strange, but I also realized something about Ellen. She kept the truth from me because, for whatever reason, she thought it was the right thing to do. I’ll never know why, but at least I understand that she had the best intentions.”
“Interesting insight.”
“And very freeing.”
“So I see,” he said. “You look a hundred years lighter.”
“Really? Wow, that’s pretty cool.”
Her expression was as open now as before Angela’s call the other night. The feelings in Clay’s chest spilled over and filled his body and soul with warmth and tenderness.
What was that about? Not ready to explore the question, he changed the subject. “I had the blood test done today, and had it sent to the lab running Angela’s part of the test. In five to ten business days I’ll know.”
Sarah nodded and fiddled with the dandelion.
“I’ve done some thinking about the baby,” he went on. “If I am the father, and I’m pretty sure I’m not, I want to be a part of his or her life. I don’t want my kid to go through what you’re going through, forever wondering about the man who fathered you.”
“For the baby’s sake, I think that’s great,” she said.
“That doesn’t mean I want anything to do with Angela. I never did. That night was a mistake.”
Sarah’s expression shuttered closed.
Was Angela the reason she’d pulled back?
“Spit it out, Sarah. What’s on your mind?”
She shrugged. “You’ve always moved from woman to woman.”
Guilty as charged. He raised a wary eyebrow.
“And that’s okay. You don’t have to worry about me, Clay. I’m fine.”
She was giving him a pass for the other night, and he ought to count his blessings. He didn’t. “So this is goodbye,” he guessed.
<
br /> “Well, I am leaving tomorrow. I don’t know when I’ll be back, and you’re bound to meet other women. I’m just being realistic.”
At the moment, Sarah was the only one he wanted.
Which wasn’t all that surprising. The real kicker was that at some point during the past two weeks, he’d changed. He wanted Sarah in his future.
That scared him spitless, and he sat up straight. Before he said anything, he needed to think about it. Yet the words tumbled out anyway. “I’m not ready for goodbye.”
* * *
SARAH KNEW BETTER than to trust Clay’s words. He wanted to keep the door open and see her from time to time, but that wouldn’t work for her. Three years ago she’d started to fall for him. Now he owned her heart, and spending occasional nights together wouldn’t be enough. Besides, if she wanted to get over him and move on with her life, she needed to end things now.
She let out a heavy sigh. “We’re two very different people, Clay.”
“I don’t see that as a problem. It keeps life interesting.”
His penetrating gaze only deepened the crack in her heart. Afraid she might say something she’d regret, she tossed the dandelion aside. “Look, I have things to do. I really should go in.”
She started to stand, but Clay cupped her shoulder, forcing her to remain seated. “You can’t just walk away in the middle of a conversation.”
He looked at her with the dark intensity that turned her bones to liquid. Steeling herself, she glanced at her sandals. “There really isn’t anything to say.”
His laugh was utterly devoid of humor. “You make love with me like you mean it and then suddenly decide you’re not going to see me again, and there’s nothing to say? Give me a break, Sarah.”
“All right, since you asked.” She ducked out of his grasp. “You and I are complete opposites, and yes, that might make life interesting, but we’d never work. Why put ourselves through that kind of hell?”
Dammit, she was going to tear up. She blinked hard.
Clay brushed her bangs aside, his rough, masculine fingers gentle and warm. “How are we opposites?” he asked in a soft voice.