If she didn’t get a grip on this, she would lose her husband. She might also lose herself.
Finished with the saddlebags, she crawled out of the tent and stood. The morning was crisp and clear. She and Thad didn’t get out of the city enough, she thought. They should plan weekends up in the mountains. There were many wonderful places to be found only a few hours outside of San Francisco. They could—
C.J. heard a sound and turned. She saw Lucy backing out of the tent she shared with Tommy. At the sight of the child’s slight body and ratty hair, C.J. stiffened. Anger swelled up inside of her. But this time, instead of giving in to the hot emotion, she took a deep breath and tried to figure out why Lucy made her so furious. What about this girl pushed her buttons? Was it the girl’s fault that she had no family and no one to take care of her? Was it the girl’s fault that Thad liked her?
Had C.J. become so blindly selfish that she resented the child even being alive if she, C.J., couldn’t have the baby she wanted?
The possibility shocked her so much, she took an involuntary step back. Lucy glanced in her direction. The child’s expression immediately turned wary.
C.J. didn’t blame her. She’d been nothing but a nightmare since the second she’d laid eyes on Lucy.
“Good morning,” she said, going for a somewhat cheerful voice. She wanted to make amends, not terrify the child.
Lucy blinked at her. She didn’t respond, but she also didn’t run away.
C.J. tried a slight smile. “Did you sleep well?”
Still looking apprehensive and not the least bit trusting, Lucy nodded slowly. Her matted hair swayed with the movement.
C.J. eyed the dark strands. If combed out, her hair would probably come to the middle of her back. It was a mess and ugly, but with a little care, it could be attractive. Didn’t most little girls want to be pretty?
“Lucy, would you like me to braid your hair?” she asked before she could stop herself with second thoughts. “I think that style would look nice on you, and it would keep your hair out of your face while you are riding.”
Lucy’s mouth twisted as her eyes narrowed. C.J. knew exactly what she was thinking. The kid was trying to figure out how she would use this offer to trip her up.
I am a complete and total bitch, C.J. thought grimly.
“I know how to French braid,” she said in a pathetic attempt to make the offer more enticing. Suddenly it was very important to do this for Lucy, although C.J. was not willing to say why.
“I don’t have a brush or nothing,” the girl said defiantly, as she squared her thin shoulders.
“I have a brush. And a rubber band for the bottom.” C.J. bent down and grabbed her saddlebag. “In here. I’d have to get the tangles out of your hair first, but I’d be gentle. I don’t want to hurt you.”
As she spoke the words, C.J. realized she was telling the truth. She didn’t want to hurt Lucy. She didn’t want to be a horrible person anymore.
She crossed to a fallen log and sat down. After patting the space next to herself, she waited.
Lucy sucked in a breath. She glanced around, then looked at the saddlebags. Longing darkened her eyes. Finally she walked forward slowly and perched on the log.
Relief swept over C.J. She fumbled with the buckle, then opened the bag and pulled out a wide-toothed comb.
“I’m going to start at the bottom and work up,” she said as she leaned toward the girl. “I’ll do my best not to tug too hard, but if it hurts, you tell me and I’ll stop.”
“Okay.” Lucy sounded doubtful.
C.J. began to work. The tangles came out more easily than she’d thought they would. The girl’s hair wasn’t wiry, only messy. Once combed, it was sleek and shiny.
After a few minutes Lucy reached up and felt the strands that had already been combed. “It feels nice,” she said.
“Wait until I put it in a French braid. You’re going to look really pretty. I have a mirror with me, so you can see.”
Lucy turned slightly to glance at her, then faced front again. “I wasn’t stealing yesterday,” she blurted out, speaking quickly. “I really was looking for a Band-Aid.”
C.J. swallowed. “I know,” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “I know. I’m sorry I accused you of stealing. It was very wrong of me, and I hope you’ll accept my apology and forgive me.”
Lucy sprang to her feet and spun to face her. She looked confused and more than a little stunned. “You’re apologizing to me?”
“Yes. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”
Lucy opened her mouth, then closed it. C.J. wondered if any adult in the girl’s life had ever taken responsibility for making a mistake.
“It’s okay,” Lucy told her and sat back down.
“Thank you for accepting my apology.”
Still sounding startled, Lucy said, “You’re welcome.”
C.J. continued to work on her hair. Being wrong about yesterday was one thing, she told herself, but what about the picnic? Had she been wrong there, too?
“You must have been very frustrated,” C.J. said, hoping she wasn’t making a huge mistake in pursuing this line of conversation. “When someone is honest and gets accused of stealing, it’s easy for them to get mad.”
Lucy stiffened slightly. C.J. kept combing, but then the girl pulled away. She dropped her chin to her chest.
“We steal sometimes,” she whispered. “Tommy takes the money while I do something to get everybody’s attention. He hates doing it, but I make him.” Lucy tilted her head and looked at C.J. “We don’t buy candy with the money, or toys. I’m real careful with it.”