Baby's First Homecoming (18 page)

Any minute, the auctioneer and his assistant would arrive and set up in the announcer’s booth. Dallas was probably arranging her photographer’s table and inventorying her supplies. The media would arrive soon. One local TV station had agreed to send a reporter and camera operator and a small local paper had promised coverage.

The only individual not showing up was the head cashier.

Her.

Sierra had recruited Sage to take over rather than simply assist, as was the original plan. Cashiering wasn’t complicated, and there were the notes Sierra had left. Sage would have no trouble.

Sierra moped. She was a good employee, not the kind who abandoned ship in the middle of a big event.

Yet she’d done exactly that. Left her job, her son and Clay.

Talk about selfish.

She missed them. All of them. Clay, too.

Those last weeks together were the happiest she’d had since their affair. If only he’d given her those few days she needed to think, trusted her enough not to take off with Jamie, she’d be with him now.

No sooner had she shown up on her father’s doorstep a week ago than the two of them had talked. Unresolved issues remained, but they were making headway. With Gavin and Ethan as well. Not that Ethan had been upset with her. Gavin—that was a different story. He was disappointed she wasn’t working the auction. After several awkward meals, they’d cleared the air enough to eat companionably if not noisily and rowdily like before.

Sierra hadn’t realized how similar she and her father were—they both tended to avoid their problems. Where they differed was that she ran while her father shut down completely.

Checking her watch again, she sighed. She should be at the auction.

After all the hurt she’d caused her family, all the assistance they’d given her, she owed them not to bail at the last hour. In this valley, mustangs were synonymous with the Powell name and the plight of wild horses was close to their hearts, a vital part of their personal history to pass down to their children and grandchildren. To Jamie.

It was also a cause important to Clay.

He had Jamie, would for another four days as per their parenting schedule.

She hadn’t forgotten about her son. Heaven forbid. But she didn’t obsess about him when he wasn’t with her. Not anymore. The breakup with Clay—she’d stopped kidding herself and calling it “time away”—had had one positive impact on her. She’d mostly gotten over her separation anxiety. There were moments, but then she’d remind herself Clay was a good father and wouldn’t let anything happen to Jamie.

She wished he’d taken the same tender care of her love for him.

Sierra didn’t regret her decision. It really was for the best, as she kept telling herself. Clay must agree. He didn’t act as though he wanted a reconciliation when they met to hand over Jamie.

God, that sounded awful. Their son wasn’t a borrowed tool to be exchanged when the other person was done using it.

She wondered if Clay had Jamie with him at the auction or if he’d hired Cassie to babysit. No, her niece would be with her fellow equestrian drill team members selling refreshments at the concession stand.

Did the drill team need more ice? Sierra could buy some and take it over. She’d be welcomed.

What message would that send Clay? She’d been wrong? She was sorry? She wanted to try again? She wasn’t a quitter and finished the jobs she started?

Apparently she was less dedicated to relationships than jobs.

She’d been so scared after seeing Jessica in the diner and discovering Clay had met with her, terrified when her father’s duplicity was revealed. It was too much like looking at her own reflection.

Sierra had once viewed honesty as fluid, able to change shape depending on the individual’s needs.

It was an excuse she’d used to justify her own actions.

The last few weeks had taught her much.

What to do with her new education?

She tackled the laundry in an attempt to stop dwelling on the auction and Clay. In her bedroom—the bedroom that would belong to Gavin and Sage’s baby once he or she was born—she grabbed the laundry bag.

Finding a new place to live and a new job were a priority, but she’d been dragging her feet, even turning down a second, in-person, interview with the company that had called. When she’d mentioned her lack of motivation to Dr. Brewster, the counselor had turned the tables on Sierra by posing questions like “Why do you think you’re procrastinating?” and “How do you feel about quitting your job?”

Miserable, all right? I feel miserable.

Sierra took her frustration out on the dirty clothes, ruthlessly stuffing them into the washing machine. As she was making a second trip to the laundry room with some of the girls’ clothes, the doorbell rang.

She glimpsed through the peephole but didn’t recognize the caller, whose face was averted as she dug through her purse. It must be one of the ranch customers with a problem. Sierra opened the door.

“Hello, can I—” Her vocal chords froze.

“Hi, Sierra. I’m glad you’re here. I hope you don’t mind me showing up without calling first.”

Oh, yes, she minded.

“I wasn’t sure you’d see me.”

No fooling.

“Can I come in? I promise to take no more than a minute. I’m leaving for Texas tomorrow and wanted to talk to you.”

Convinced she was making a giant mistake, Sierra stepped aside to let Jessica enter.

Chapter Fifteen

“Care to sit?” Sierra indicated the living room with a flimsy wave of her hand. Had she really just invited Clay’s ex-wife into the house?

Jessica’s gaze swept the interior as she followed Sierra. “I’d forgotten how charming and homey this place is.”

“It’s been a while, I suppose.”

“Years.”

Jessica had visited the Powells on occasion when she and Clay were dating.

“I’m sorry about your divorce.” Good grief. Could Sierra have made a stupider remark? Her brain must have disconnected from her mouth.

“Thank you.” Jessica sat on the sofa, brushed her stylishly messy bangs from her face and smoothed her wrinkle-free pants.

“What do you want to talk about?” Her initial surprise having passed, Sierra was curious, though she remained cautious.

“I came to apologize.”

“What for?” Her stomach tightened. Something more had happened at Jessica’s recent meeting with Clay.

Were his denials nothing but more lies?

“Stealing Clay away from you. Your life, his, and that of your son, would be vastly different if I’d been less jealous and able to admit Clay wasn’t the man for me.”

“I’m confused. Are you referring to two years ago?”

Jessica nodded. “I’d heard you and he were seeing each other. Mustang Valley is a small community. I didn’t want Clay for myself, but I didn’t want anyone else to have him. Not so soon. Not before I’d found a new man.” She smiled sadly. “I wasn’t the best person in those days. Marriage, failing at it and surviving divorce changed me. Oh, gosh.” She looked chagrined. “Did I just utter a cliché?”

Jessica had changed. Goodie for her. As far as Sierra was concerned, one I-came-to-apologize speech didn’t make everything okay. Jessica’s fickle whims had wreaked chaos on too many lives. “Isn’t it a little late for this?”

“Possibly. Possibly not. I heard you had moved out of Clay’s casita.”

“He told you?” Sierra’s twisted stomach turned inside out. He was still communicating with Jessica despite his promise.

“I haven’t seen or spoken to Clay since we met at the coffee shop and I signed the insurance form.”

“Then how—”

“I saw Caitlin at the clinic yesterday. My godmother’s blood-sugar level dropped, and I rushed her in for a quick check. Caitlin mentioned you. Actually, I asked how you and Clay were, and she reluctantly told me.”

“Oh.” Sierra had jumped to conclusions.

“You know, Clay always wanted children, and he adores Jamie.”

“Yes, he does.”

“He loves you, too.”

Sierra must have misheard. “I beg your pardon?”

“I think he fell in love with you two years ago, he just didn’t realize it. He and I had dated a long, long time. Old habits are hard to break.” She stood, smoothed her pants again. Caitlin now recognized the gesture as a nervous one. “Don’t let him get away again.”

The last person in the world Sierra thought she should take advice from was Jessica.

Except the advice was pretty darn good.

She left, and Sierra shut the door behind her, slumping against it. Clay loved her! At least according to Jessica he did.

Sierra had been a fool, and not for the first time. She’d permitted her fear of rejection to color her judgment, manufactured reasons to reject Clay before he rejected her.

How to tell him she loved and trusted him in a way he couldn’t possibly misunderstand or misinterpret?

Easy. She’d go to the auction. Where she should have been all morning.

Changing her clothes, she dashed outside to her SUV. The minute she hit the end of the driveway, she pulled her cell phone from her purse. The first call she made was to her father, the second one to Blythe. They were both at the auction. Sierra’s request, the same to each of them, was readily and excitedly granted.

Parking at Clay’s house, she half walked, half jogged the short distance to the arena. The place was already packed, the bleachers full. She searched frantically for Clay and Jamie, responding with a distracted “Hi, have you seen Clay?” when people greeted her. She finally spotted him near the announcer’s stand, being interviewed by the TV reporter. A moment later he noticed her and briefly lost his train of thought before continuing.

She stood to the side and waited until the interview was concluded. The reporter thanked Clay and left with the camera operator to film more footage. Sierra approached slowly.

“If you’re looking for Jamie, he’s with my mother.”

“I know. I didn’t come here to see Jamie.” She longed to throw herself at him, but his wary expression held her at bay.

“Then why?”

“I’ve been stupid lately. About work and…other things.”

“What other things?” His control cracked a tiny fraction.

She intended to split it wide open. “Give me my job back and I’ll tell you.”

* * *

“
T
HAT
MARE
AND
COLT
are the best of the bunch,” Ethan observed. “They should bring in decent money.”

Clay stood at the far end of the arena fence, half listening to his friend, his attention all over the place. He couldn’t take his mind off Sierra.

She’d come back for her job.

Not him.

She’d barely made her cryptic remark about “other things” when Clay was called away to resolve a problem. With a “We’ll chat later,” she’d hurried to meet with the auctioneer and his assistant. Clay had glimpsed her a short time later scurrying across the open area to the office in the barn.

He’d wanted to talk then, not later, but the auction had started and was quickly in full swing. As cashier, Sierra would be busy processing paperwork and accepting funds for an hour or two after the auction closed.

Could he wait?

“I’m glad the other horses were adopted, I just wish they’d brought higher prices,” Ethan continued, unaware of Clay’s turmoil. “Unless that grant money comes through, the sanctuary will go broke in a few months.”

“We’ll think of something,” Clay muttered distractedly.

“Hey! What’s up?” Ethan elbowed Clay in the ribs. “Sierra tying you in knots again?”

“I’m concentrating on the auction.”

“It’s like that, you know.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the office in the distance. Sierra hadn’t emerged since going inside. “What is?”

“When you’re in love.” Ethan shook his head as if accepting a dismal truth.

“I’m not in love.”

“Yeah. Sure. And the sky is green.”

Was he in love with Sierra? Clay gave his head a dismal shake mimicking Ethan’s.

He was sunk. In love with a woman who didn’t love him.

But she had come back. Asked for her old job. Mentioned being stupid about “other things.”

“I need to find your sister.”

“Wait.” Ethan grabbed Clay’s jacket sleeve and restrained him. “The bidding is starting on the mare and colt.”

They watched as the last two horses up for auction were led into the arena. The auctioneer recounted their history to the audience, when, where and how they’d been rounded up and what training they’d been given. Then he talked up the duo’s good qualities, emphasizing their potential as all-around Western pleasure mounts.

“Okee dokie, ladies and gents.” His voice rang out from the speakers. “What do you say we open up the bidding at two hundred dollars for the pair.”

At first, no one raised their hand. When the price dropped to twenty-five dollars, the bidding took off and didn’t stop. The wranglers kept the mare and colt calm while the ring men stationed themselves in front of the bleachers and alerted the auctioneer with a loud whoop when a bid was made.

Before Clay realized it, the price was up to a thousand. Then, two thousand. Twenty-five hundred. Three thousand.

What the heck?

He scanned the audience, trying to determine who was bidding so furiously on the horses. He didn’t recognize either of the men, one an old-timer and the other a businessman in a suit and tie.

“Twenty thousand dollars.” The call came from the businessman.

The audience fell silent for several shocked seconds, then broke out into hoots and hollers.

“I have twenty thousand dollars,” the auctioneer shouted, disbelief in his voice. “Do I have twenty-one thousand?”

“Dang!” The old-timer threw up his arms in defeat. “I’d have to rob a bank.”

“Going once, going twice, sold to number…” He waited for the buyer to hold up his card. “Eighty-six.”

“Hot damn.” Ethan grabbed Clay’s arm and jostled it, grinning ridiculously. “That’s enough money to run the sanctuary for a year, maybe two.”

“Who is that guy?”

“Let’s find out. Looks like that TV reporter is about to interview him.”

They made their way across the open area to the crowd that had formed around the businessman and the reporter. Sierra waited on the other side. He’d have gone to her but then noticed a man standing beside her. Before he could manage a closer look, someone stepped in front of him and blocked his view.

“Wow,” the TV reporter gushed as the camera operator filmed and Dallas snapped pictures, “that was some purchase. Tell us about yourself and your plans for the horses?”

“I didn’t buy them for myself. I’m a broker with MRB Trade and Commerce, acting on behalf of my client. He’s the one who purchased the horses.”

“Can you give us his name?”

“Certainly. He’s here, in fact.” The broker inclined his head. “Mr. Bud Duvall.”

“Your dad?” Ethan exclaimed in a booming voice. “He bought the horses?”

Clay’s thoughts exactly. “Excuse me.” He wedged between two people in an attempt to get closer, Ethan behind him.

His dad stepped up to the reporter, taking the place of his banker. Sierra, holding Jamie, and Wayne were with him.

What in the world was going on?

Finally, when Clay’s patience was about to snap, he and Ethan broke free of the crowd.

The rest of Ethan’s family surrounded Clay’s father. Gavin, Sage, Caitlin and the girls. Clay’s mother was also there.

He went to her. “Mom?”

She took his hand and patted it, then told him, “Shh, your father’s talking.”

“People who’ve lived in these parts a long time know that the Duvalls and Powells were once close as kin.” Clay’s dad nervously wiped his sweaty brow with his handkerchief. “Unfortunately, we had a bit of a falling-out, I guess you’d say. Spent a lot of years being needlessly mad at each other. It took this little guy here to bring us to our senses.” He ruffled Jamie’s hair. “And this here gal.” He squeezed Sierra’s shoulder.

Clay watched, stunned.

“I’d like to present this check, twenty thousand for the purchase of the horses and an additional twenty thousand dollars for the Powell Wild Mustang Sanctuary.”

A gasp erupted from the crowd.

“I make this donation in memory of Louise Powell.” He handed the check to Sierra. “Late wife of my friend Wayne. It can’t change what happened, but maybe it, and this boy, will give us a second chance.”

Wayne extended his hand to Clay’s father, visibly moved. “I can’t thank you enough. For
everything
.”

“Water under the bridge, pal. Water under the bridge.” Clay’s dad pulled Wayne into a warm bear hug.

The rest of the families converged on them. There were more hugs and tears. Everyone stood back a moment while Gavin and Clay’s dad exchanged words and shook hands.

Clay didn’t join his family—his
two
families. He made straight for Sierra and Jamie.

“You knew about the donation,” he said.

“Not until right before the auction started. Your dad met me in the office.”

“He’s always liked being the center of attention.” Clay chuckled. “In this case, I approve.”

“I was thinking.” She jiggled Jamie, who’d started to fuss.

“About
other things
?”

“Yes. If our dads are able to put the past behind them, maybe we can—”

Clay cut her off with a kiss. Then another and another until Jamie protested noisily at being squished between them.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he said. “Something I should have told you weeks ago.”

“What?”

“I love you.” He lost himself in her startling blue eyes. “And I want to marry you. Not just because of Jamie, but because I can’t live without you one more day. I know I’m being pushy.”

“You’re not.” She looped an arm around his neck. “I love you, too.”

“Let’s start over. Take it one day at a time. You can move back into the casita, if you’re comfortable with that, or stay at your dad’s.”

“I’d rather live in the house with you.”

“Okay. On two conditions.”

“More legal agreements?” She smiled coyly.

“Not exactly. First, you accept my proposal.”