The Cowboy's Pride. Charlene Sands

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      “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-point-nine 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 СКАЧАТЬ