The Cowboy's Pride. Charlene Sands

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.”

      “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.”

      “You weren’t defending yourself yesterday when she popped over with cookies.”

      “That’s right, cookies. Besides, would it have done any good? Your mind was pretty much set.”

      “That woman has perfect timing,” Trish muttered, “showing up just when I arrived.” She rose, keeping her composure, and moved toward the crib to check on Meggie. The baby complained with a little cry and Trish stroked her head gently, then put the rattle back in her hand. Satisfied, Meggie gripped the toy and began shaking it again.

      “It wasn’t planned. Truth is, I haven’t seen much of Suzy outside of Penny’s Song.”

      Trish didn’t believe that. How could she? The woman had walked into Clay’s home yesterday like she owned the place. Like she belonged there, and Trish didn’t.

      “The last time I saw you two together …” Trish struggled with the memory that had been the final blow to her marriage. “She showed up at our home when she knew darn well I would be out of town for the night.”

      “She didn’t just show up. I invited her.”

      Stunned, Trish blinked. What kind of lame admission was that? It was a low blow and her heart ached, again. She couldn’t forget how it felt that night walking into her home, hoping to mend her marriage only to find the two of them going behind her back, sitting on the sofa, all cozy-like, whispering and joking around, with wineglasses half-emptied. She’d felt like an outsider in her own home. She’d felt betrayed in the worst possible way. Suzy had usurped her position, looking smug when Trish found them together. It had been the last straw. Trish had raced upstairs and began packing her bags.

      Their marriage had gotten difficult and Clay couldn’t handle it. Trish shouldn’t have been surprised because he’d done the same in his relationships with women who’d come before her and yet the injury stuck like a knife to her heart. She’d been foolish enough to think that what they’d had was different, real.

      “And there you have it,” she finally said, boiling with anger.

      Clay rose