The Cowboy's Pride. Charlene Sands

together. It was only a few weeks later that she found out she was going to have a baby.”

      Trish glanced at Meggie who had turned her body to peer at Clay with curiosity. The baby had good instincts, Trish thought wryly, trying to keep herself from weeping as she recounted the story. “It was really hard for her. She was pregnant and pretty much alone. I was with her when Meggie was born. Oh, Clay, it was such a mir—”

      But Trish couldn’t finish her thought, not without falling apart. Meggie was a miracle—just seeing her being born, all wrinkly and pink, taking her first breaths and crying her first soft cries, had been a life-changing experience for Trish. She’d never expected to feel such incredible awe and wonder.

      Clay sat quietly, listening, and Trish continued. “Karin had complications after the delivery that put her life at risk. It was touch and go for months and then last month, she got an infection that she just couldn’t fight off.”

      Trish closed her eyes, willing the grief away as those painful memories surfaced. “She made me promise I’d take the baby if things went bad. I agreed, of course.”

      She’d promised her friend, but Trish never thought that she’d have to follow through on that promise. She never believed her friend would die. The baby had been thrust into her life and now she was solely responsible for her. “Karin didn’t make it and I’m Meggie’s legal guardian now,” she explained. “I plan to adopt her as soon as I can.”

      Clay’s eyes softened as he peered at Meggie. “The baby has no other family?”

      “I’m it, for all practical purposes.” Karin’s mother was in a nursing home. Her husband’s parents were gone.

      She fumbled with Meggie’s diaper. She never got the thing on straight the first time and she’d learned the hard way what happened when there was a leak. She refastened the diaper, making it fit a little better. “I’m muddling through,” she confessed. “This is all so new to me.” She looked up to find Clay’s eyes on her. “Meggie had a little fever last week and I couldn’t travel with her until she was completely healthy.”

      He waited a beat. “That’s why you arrived late?”

      Trish nodded. “That’s the only reason.”

      She’d agreed to live in the guesthouse for one month and work on publicity for Penny’s Song. And while she was here, they would end things legally, their marriage only a few terms and a divorce signature away from being history.

      “Under the circumstances, I’m surprised you showed up at all.”

      She shook her head. “I wouldn’t miss being a part of Penny’s Song. I … it’s still important to me, Clay. Because of what my brother went through, and even more so now that I have a child.” She cringed once the words were out, wondering if his eyes would grow hard and resentment would tighten the sharp angles of his face even more. When neither of those things happened, Trish was hit with reality and unrelenting sadness.

       He’s divorcing you, Trish. He doesn’t care anymore.

      She’d been served those divorce papers a few short months after she’d walked out on him, but she hadn’t had the heart to end things. Even though she’d tried to forget him, coming face-to-face with Clay now brought it all full circle and her heart ached for the loss. Once upon a time, they’d been so much in love. But everything had changed. She was a single mother and she had to get her life in order. She’d see the end of one dream and the beginning of another.

      After she replaced Meggie’s bloomers, she picked up the freshly diapered baby and cuddled her close. “All clean now.”

      Meggie clung to her, laying her head on Trish’s shoulder. Blond locks tickled her throat and Trish smiled as she lifted her gaze to Clay. She saw the slightest flicker in his eyes.

      He rose from his seat and took a few steps toward her. She caught a whiff of his aftershave, the scent of spice and musk filling her mind with images of moonlit trysts on silken sheets and beds of straw. They’d made love every place imaginable on the ranch.

      “You should have told me about her, Trish.”

      “You should have answered my phone calls.”

      His mouth twisted and they stared at each other. Both stubborn when they thought they were right, they butted heads often. “Besides, it wasn’t as if we’re sharing much of our lives anymore.”

      Clay scrubbed his jaw and sighed deeply. “Let’s get you settled in the guesthouse.”

      With the baby in her arms, Trish got up from her seat and grabbed for the diaper bag. Before she could sling it over her shoulder, Clay intervened, reaching for the bag. “I’ve got it.”

      His fingers brushed hers. Inwardly she gasped from the intense heat. Electricity coursed through her system potent enough to curl the very tips of her toes. And when she looked at Clay, his eyes gleamed with something he couldn’t conceal. He’d felt the connection, too.

      They stood there for half a beat, no one moving, staring into each other’s eyes.

      A woman’s singsong voice coming from the entry broke the moment. “Hello, Clay. Are you in here?” They turned their heads at the same time toward the doorway. The voice grew louder as the woman neared the room. “I made sugar cookies for Penny’s Song and thought you’d like some.”

      Suzy Johnson walked through the doorway, a bright smile on her face, wearing a summery sundress with big yellow and blue flowers. The minute she glided inside and spotted Trish with Clay, she froze. “Oh! S-sorry if I’m interrupting. Helen didn’t answer the door and … well, it was open. I didn’t know you had—”

      “It’s okay, Suzy,” Clay said. “Thanks for the cookies.”

      She nodded, but the moment she took notice of the blond-haired, blue-eyed baby in Trish’s arms, her cheeks paled in color and she nearly dropped her cookie platter.

      Clay’s family friend had been forever stopping by, bringing over cherry pies, asking Clay for favors or reminiscing about their childhood in Red Ridge. Whenever the hometown girl was around, Trish felt like an outsider, so seeing her discomfort now gave her no small measure of satisfaction.

      The baby let out a little cry, interrupting the deafening silence. Trish rocked Meggie gently and met the dark-haired woman’s silver-dollar-sized stare.

      Another moment ticked by. Trish wouldn’t engage in conversation with her, and Clay wasn’t uttering a word.

      “I’ll … I guess I’ll leave these with Helen in the kitchen,” she stammered, wielding her cookie dish and backing out of the room.

      Finally.

      Once she was gone, Trish turned to Clay, cutting off anything he might say and managing to keep the pain from her voice. “I see nothing has changed around here.”

      Two

      A tick worked in Clay’s jaw as he strode silently beside her. Every so often his gaze would shift to the baby Trish held in her arms, otherwise he kept his focus toward the guesthouse that lay fifty yards away from the main house. Trish was too tired to deal with his sour mood right now.

      Granted, she hadn’t been his wife in the real sense in over a year, but you’d think he’d inform Suzy Johnson to stay the hell away until the ink on the final divorce decree was dry. But that was Suzy, always cheery, always showing up uninvited and always bearing treats.

      Trish bristled. The sooner she signed those divorce papers the better.

      She turned her thoughts to more pressing matters. Getting Meggie settled and comfortable was her first priority. Trish was an avid planner. She banked her livelihood on her organizational skills. She made lists. She set goals. She could plot out her future months in advance. It was the main reason she’d been successful as a publicist. She had a knack for scoping out musicians’ careers long-range