fine,” she answered. “Just wants to be in on the action.”
“We should get moving then.” Clay bounded inside the truck and started the engine.
Trish took her seat and the baby quieted now that the truck was on the road. When they reached the entrance to Penny’s Song, Clay parked and cut the engine.
They began the tour at the general store with Clay holding the diaper bag and Meggie in Trish’s arms. The baby was intrigued with the bright colors and the ranch animals, but mostly by the children who had seen the purple-and-yellow flower child and wanted to meet her.
“This is Meggie,” Trish said to one little girl who’d run up to them just as they were exiting the general store. She bent to the girl’s level, noting her big expressive eyes and the new growth of golden curls covering her scalp. “She’ll be five months old soon.”
The girl smiled. “She’s cute.”
“What’s your name?” Trish asked.
“Wendy.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Wendy.”
Meggie reached out to touch Wendy’s freckled cheek. The girl chuckled and announced, “I’m going on eight. I live in Flagstaff. Is she sick?”
There was curious concern on the girl’s face. Trish glanced at Clay. His expression faltered. Although he made an effort to hide it, she saw the way his eyes narrowed and his body jerked a fraction of an inch. She wasn’t going down alone. Clay was just as affected as she was.
“Oh, no. She’s not. She’s … healthy.”
Wendy ripped Trish’s barriers to shreds and opened the wound that she’d lived with since Blake took sick. Children shouldn’t have to deal with illness. They should be free to enjoy their childhood without pain touching their lives. She shared a bittersweet moment with Clay, a wink in time, before returning her attention to the child.
A boy named Eddie walked up to see Meggie next and Trish made introductions all over again. Soon all eight of the children had left their chores behind to meet the baby. They were curious and the questions came fast and furiously. Trish didn’t mind answering them. She’d kept it simple. Yes, Meggie was her baby. No, Meggie didn’t have any brothers or sisters. Yes, she was from out of town. No, the baby couldn’t talk yet.
Her daughter kicked enthusiastically, responding to the children and the attention she received.
One by one, the children resumed their chores and Trish found herself alone with Clay again. “The saloon is really the mess hall,” he said as they headed there. “We’ve got the kids on mess duty. They don’t work, they don’t eat.”
“You old meany.”
“They like the idea. At least up until yesterday, they liked the idea.”
Trish smiled. “It’ll get old fast.”
“Maybe,” Clay said. “But life’ll come at them whether they are ready for it or not. It’s all a learning process.”
Wise words, Trish thought.
They were entering the saloon when Callie strode up behind them with a light charcoal baby stroller. Unisex coloring, Trish mused, with big rubber wheels that wouldn’t falter on the ranch’s rugged terrain.
“Well, what do you think of Meggie’s new ride?” Callie asked. “Tagg had to have all the bells and whistles.”
“Sounds just like my brother,” Clay teased. “He bought the four-wheel drive of strollers.”
Callie defended her husband. “You’d do the same, Clayton Worth. You know it.”
Clay acquiesced and nodded. “Just waiting for the chance.”
Trish froze at the reminder of how badly Clay wanted a family. He was older than her by six years, had had a successful career early in life and was oh-so-ready for children of his own. Trish was just beginning to feel secure in her own career and motherhood was the last thing on her mind. Their timing had been all wrong.
Callie turned her way and realizing the awkward situation, immediately changed the subject. “Let’s take Meggie for a test drive.”
“Gosh, Callie. Are you sure? It’s brand-new and—”
“I’m sure,” Callie said graciously. “Looks like I’m just in time, too. The little one looks sleepy.”
On the walk over to the saloon, Meggie had slumped heavily in her arms. She probably had jet lag. The commotion from the past few days had tired her out. “She is. She feels like lead weight in my arms right now.”
Callie worked at the latches on the stroller. “I’ll lower the seat down so the baby can nap.”
With that accomplished, Trish laid the baby on the pretty quilted material and strapped her in. Meggie seemed to enjoy her new cushy surroundings and Trish covered her with a lightweight knit blanket she’d pulled from the diaper bag.
“I can stroll her, if you’d like,” Callie offered. “It’ll give you time to see all of Penny’s Song uninterrupted.”
Trish inhaled a sharp breath. Her smile wavered. She hadn’t seen this coming. She and Meggie had been inseparable for the entire month. How could she let her go? Since Meggie had come into her life, she’d never had a babysitter. No one else had watched her besides Trish. The responsibility weighed on her.
She’ll never know neglect. Not ever.
Trish took her role as mother seriously, but she knew she was being overly cautious, if not ridiculous, with Callie.
“Of … of course. You can take her for a stroll.”
Callie looked hesitant now and Trish cringed from making her feel awkward in her offer. She finally got her emotions under control and smiled graciously. “It’s a great idea.”
Callie smiled with relief. “I promise I won’t go far.”
“Have fun.” Trish kept smiling, but her hand covered her heart watching them go.
Clay sidled up next to her. “She’ll be fine with Callie.”
Mortified she was so obvious, she turned to Clay and sighed. “I know that … in my head.”
Clay’s lips quirked up at the corners and he touched her elbow gently, giving it a tug. “You want to see the rest of this place?”
“Yes, yes, I do.” Distracted by his slight touch, she followed him as he led her on the rest of the tour.
Later that afternoon, Clay pulled the truck to a stop in front of the guesthouse. With one hand on the wheel and the other lazy on the console between them, he turned to her. “You made it through the day.”
She leaned against the headrest, feeling as tired as the sleeping baby in the car seat behind her. “It turned out even better than we’d expected, didn’t it?”
He drew in a breath. “Yeah.”
They’d toured the grounds and Trish had gotten a pretty good idea of how the operation worked. She’d been introduced to volunteer counselors who’d assumed roles as foremen on the ranch, the general store “clerk” and the cook, who was responsible for getting the meals prepared each day. Trish visited the stables where she met the string of mellow horses donated to the cause. She’d climbed on the corral fence, watching as Clay’s younger brother, Tagg, showed the children the basics of riding and Clay took her to see the tack room and stables the kids were expected to keep clean and tidy. Every child had a list of chores to get through with fun activities sprinkled in during the day.
Tonight they’d have a campfire and sing songs. Tomorrow a chili contest and a hay ride. Every minute of the day meant interaction with the other children and the adult volunteers. Many of the adults