She had been on pins and needles every time her parents’ phone rang. And she faithfully kept her cell charged. But no call came through. By the fifth day, she was forced to accept the finality of the situation. Clay would never call. Maybe he’d finally had his security division run a check on her background and had found out her history. That, combined with the ball and chain she offered, was more than enough to keep him at a distance. At least until February, when the baby was due to be born. She believed he truly cared about the baby. It was just the kind of man he was. He would be a good father. Of that she had no doubt. But it would be fatherly time spent with his son or daughter when she wasn’t around. Tea parties in the grand salon if a girl. Riding his first horse and learning to rope if a boy.
Then one day, as she was heading outside to do some gardening, the tears sprang to her eyes before she reached the back door. This time there was no holding back. Dropping down onto the outside stoop, she gave in to the misery she’d kept inside for so long, until the sobs overwhelmed her and she could no longer feel or think of Clay Everett.
Fourteen
The rumbling sound of thunder filled the far-off horizon. Sophie looked up to see an almost cloudless blue sky. Odd, she thought. But then out here in the miles and miles of flat terrain of the farming communities, sound had a way of traveling great distances.
She was sitting outside the house under the shade of the large tree on the bench swing her father had built when she was only a child. She had so many memories, most of them good, of growing up in this small, rural American town with a population under a thousand. For eighteen years it had been her world. Then tragedy had struck and she’d spirited off to a college in a distant county. Ironically, her world had expanded. From there she’d taken a job working for a Texas rancher and part-time rodeo cowboy. Now she was back where she started. She’d come full circle. And she’d brought with her new memories, experiences she would always cherish, and soon a child who would grow up between two completely different worlds: the quiet farming community Sophie had always called home and the Texas ranch of the baby’s billionaire father.
The sound of the thunder grew increasingly louder until Sophie realized it wasn’t thunder but an aircraft of some sort. Whatever it was, it was big and headed in this direction. The numbing thought ran through her mind that it might be Clay. Would he come here? No. That was a ridiculous idea. They had said everything there was to say before she left. He had his corporation to run, Maverick to fend off and an entire ranching operation to manage. Although Clay had help with most of it, the responsibility still rested on his shoulders. He wouldn’t have time to come all the way to Indiana because of her. Even if the time was there, there was no reason.
She had to stop this. She had to let go of that last lingering strand of hope. It was over. Whatever they had at one time, imagined or real, was over. She needed to focus on the future. She needed to apply for a substitute-teaching position for the upcoming fall start to the school year. She had to find reliable transportation. She had to find a doctor, an ob-gyn. She really should find her own place to live but until the baby was born she might be of help to her parents if she just stayed here. Although it was a bit cramped, they had made the room.
The sound grew louder. Then, as though dropping out of the heavens, a helicopter appeared some few miles away. As it came closer, she could just make out the lettering on the side: EVERETT. It was Clay or someone from his company. Her heart rate sped up and she swallowed several times, her eyes glued to the aircraft.
The sheets and towels her mom had hung out on the line to dry in the fresh air began to move as though they were desperate to escape the storm that was headed their way. The trees swayed, the grasses parted as the helicopter lowered out of the sky.
Sophie didn’t know whether to stand there or run into the house. The turbulence caused dirt particles to swirl around her face, getting into her eyes and nose. With no landing pad available, the pilot had no choice but to land on the loosely packed earth of the plowed field directly behind the house. Giving the helicopter one last glance, she bolted toward the house. She didn’t need to stand there fighting the turbulence and she didn’t want to appear overanxious for Clay to step out of the helicopter. She didn’t want him here. She was making some headway in coming to peace with their parting and she didn’t want to face his questions and excuses. Still, part of her wanted to know what had brought him here.
The blades of the helicopter slashed the air as the chopper set down. With
one backward glance, Sophie slipped into the back door of her parents’ house and closed it behind her. She realized she was trembling. She wanted so badly to see Clay again but when he left, the pain would be fresh and new. The thought of his wonderful scent, those green eyes and easy smile, the warmth and gentleness of his strong hands, made her breathing become shallow. It would take her months to get over that yearning, if not years. She tried to be strong. But her ability to resist him was weak.
Her mother was in the kitchen, cleaning up after their supper. When Sophie had asked to help she was told no, to just relax, watch TV or maybe go outside and enjoy the remains of the day. Now her mom’s eyes were glued to the small window over the kitchen sink, as she no doubt watched the helicopter land.
“Is that Clay?” she apparently couldn’t refrain from asking.
“That would be my guess,” Sophie replied. How many people did they know who would fly in and land the helicopter in the backyard like that?
“Aren’t you going out to welcome him?”
Sophie couldn’t hold back a snort. “If he wants to talk to me, he obviously knows where I live.”
Casually, Sophie walked into the empty living room. “Where are Susan and Dad?” It was amazing how calm she could sound when her heart was beating out of her chest.
“Your father is upstairs taking a nap and Susan went over to Mildred Sullivan’s to pick up a pie she baked to welcome you home. Apple. It’s your favorite.”
“Oh.”
Where was Clay? Sophie’s hands formed tight fists at her sides to try to prevent herself from going to a window and peering outside. Just then the front doorbell rang.
Her feet wouldn’t move. She wanted to run to the door, throw it open and fall into his arms. But those arms and strong embrace were not hers any longer, if they ever had been. She had no right to expect anything other than a cordial hello followed by mute discomfort and awkwardness.
The bell rang again.
“Sophie.” Her mother stood on the threshold between the kitchen and den. “Answer the door.”
She did as she was asked, and there stood Clay on the porch. He was so tall and big, it seemed impossible that those wide shoulders would make it through the door. He stole her breath. Her eyes bounced from his face to his chest, not wanting to meet his eyes for fear of what she would find there. Pity? Probably. Arrogance? Always. Concern? Probably not.
“Sophie? Are you going to invite me in?”
She pushed open the outside screen door and Clay stepped into the room. Unbidden, her eyes went to his handsome face. There was no pity. No arrogance. There was concern and something else she couldn’t quite make out. He looked like hell. His eyes were red-rimmed and he had a grayish pallor to his face.
“So, how have you been?”
“Good. Fine. Clay, what are you doing here?”
“Hello, Clay,” her mother called from the kitchen. “How are you?”