Read Small-Town Brides Online

Authors: Janet Tronstad

Small-Town Brides (15 page)

BOOK: Small-Town Brides
4.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Chapter Seven

“H
ow did your day go?” Trace asked the next evening as soon as he climbed out of his truck and walked into the house. He was covered in a thin layer of dust, and by the way his T-shirt clung to his torso it was obvious it had been through a hard afternoon in the sun.

Paisley crinkled her nose. “It was more pleasant than yours and far more agreeable smelling.”

“That's a good thing.” He grinned and tugged at the neck of the tee. “I've been in the saddle, soaked most of the day, so it's a wonder you can stand this close. I'm on my way to clean up. Where's Zoey?”

Paisley crooked her finger and led the way down the hall to Zoey's room. She placed a finger to her lips then they peeked around the corner. Zoey was playing in her tent with her dolls.

“Wow, she's talking to them,” Trace whispered in her ear as they backed away and went back to the kitchen. Once there he beamed. “She looks more comfortable.”

“She's getting there. We read and colored and played all day. I think she's adapting. She even asked where Uncle was.”

“No kidding?”

Paisley laughed, seeing the delight on his face. “No, really. You were a hit yesterday.” It was true. Zoey awakened from her nap grumpy and had hidden behind the couch in the living room. When they'd tried to pick her up she'd started screaming. Of course that had terrified Trace. Though Paisley wanted to intervene she'd held back, watching to see how Trace would handle himself. After all, she wasn't going to be here for the night, and if Zoey awakened he'd be alone dealing with whatever happened. Her heart had ached as he'd stooped to Zoey's level and talked soothingly to her. He reassured her that he loved her and said she could come out from behind the couch when she was ready and wanted to play.

The man had then begun treading a rut across the kitchen floor as he waited for Zoey to come out from behind the couch. Paisley had tried to ease his worries by talking to him as she began fixing dinner. She'd decided since she loved to cook this would be part of her job description. It also gave her something to focus on other than the impulse to reach out and hug the man's worries away every time he paced past her!

They'd both been relieved when Zoey had eventually come into the kitchen. “Come color,” she had said, taking Trace's hand as if nothing had happened. With those two simple words the rest of the afternoon had gone easier.

Paisley, on the other hand, had to admit that her anger at Trace had disappeared for the most part. True, she thought he'd been in the wrong, but understanding the circumstances made it hard to keep up the fight.

She'd spent most of her evening thinking about him and Zoey, and she'd prayed God would help her help them.

And when thoughts of how momentarily attracted she'd been toward him during their talk had surfaced she'd forced them aside and refused to acknowledge them.

“I think I'll hurry and get that shower,” Trace said, drawing her back to the moment. “I want to play with her before supper.”

“I think that's a very good idea,” Paisley said, busying herself with tossing the salad.

“And by the way,” he said, pausing at the doorway. “Whatever you're cooking smells heavenly. You keep this cooking up and you're going to spoil me.”

His compliment gave her a ridiculous amount of pleasure. She loved to cook. Always had, and she especially loved people enjoying what she cooked. “I hope you like it,” she said simply, trying to hide her delight at his words.

Berating herself for even thinking about letting this get personal, she watched him stride out of the room. Then turned back to check on the meal: salad, smothered steak and mashed potatoes…comfort food. Most all children loved the simple food…as did most grown men.

She wasn't trying to impress Trace Crawford! She wasn't.

Twenty minutes later she stood at the door and watched him walk into Zoey's room. He was dressed in a pair of soft jeans and a plain white T-shirt. And his feet were bare as he padded across the floor. The man looked good in a pair of boots, but the casual way he was dressed right now made Paisley feel like she were looking in on a scene that was more intimate than she should be involved in. This was a family moment. And she wasn't family—and certainly didn't want to be family! Still, she couldn't tear her eyes away.

“Zoey,” he called softly when she didn't look up from rocking both her bunny and two dolls. Her little arms were bulging with babies.

“Uncle,” she gasped, jumping up and coming out of the tent with her arms held out.

A lump torpedoed into Paisley's throat and hot tears pressed at her eyes at the joy in the Zoey's expression. The bond Zoey felt with Trace couldn't be missed. It had started yesterday right off the bat with her shy stares and had grown through the shaky afternoon. Trace had told Paisley this morning that Zoey had had a bad dream and he'd held her for a little while until she'd gone back to sleep—even changed a diaper all by himself! Obviously the holding part had been just what Zoey had needed to understand that in Trace's arms she would find comfort.

As Paisley watched, he swung Zoey up and gave her a big bear hug. Paisley found herself remembering when he'd hugged her with such gusto. Her skin tingled thinking of it and warning bells clanged all around. She couldn't let this get personal. He may not have meant to hurt Rene, but that didn't change the fact that he had—which put anything between them off limits.

“So what's my girl been doing today?” he asked, and Zoey leaned away from him and met his eyes with her matching pair.

“Passy don't show me 'ose,” she said solemnly, wagging her head from side to side, sending her curls swinging.

Trace looked at Paisley in mock horror. “She wouldn't show you the horse?”

“Uncle's 'ose,” Zoey added, with a matter-of-fact nod. “You show.”

Paisley crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe as understanding passed over Trace's face. Personal feelings aside, it was a delightful experience on her part, watching the exchange. This was exactly why she'd saved
the colt for Trace to show Zoey. She hadn't wanted to steal the moment away from him—when Zoey saw the colt up close for the first time. When Paisley was reading her a book about baby farm animals and their mommies, she told Zoey that her uncle also had a mommy horse and baby and that he would show them to her when he got home from work.

The toddler hadn't forgotten.

As soon as supper was over, Trace tugged on a pair of socks and boots and they all headed out to the corral. Paisley knew she should go on home now—after all, her day was done. But she really wanted to see Zoey and the colt…and Trace, so she tagged along.

With Zoey on his hip, Trace seemed genuinely more at ease than Paisley had ever expected him to be after his reaction the day before. It was amazing what a few hours could do.

When they got to the fence, he opened it, much to Paisley's surprise, and took Zoey straight into the pen. “Do you think that's wise?” she called before she could stop herself. Following them inside, she eyed the horses warily.

The look Trace shot over his shoulder held matching surprise. “Sure, it's okay. Mabel doesn't mind us looking at her baby. Now Peppy might have to get used to us but I've been working with him every day, so he's not easily spooked.”

Paisley wasn't so sure as she eyed the spunky little colt prancing around the pen with his ears back and his chin held high.

“'ose!” Zoey exclaimed. Her expression registered a mixture of awe and uncertainty. The curious mom stuck her nose into Zoey's soft belly, causing her to recoil against Trace's chest in surprise.

Instantly his chuckle bubbled up and his arm tightened
around her securely. “It's okay. This is Mabel. Can Zoey say ‘Mabel'?” He pushed the horse back a little so that Zoey didn't feel so crowded, but he continued to stroke the horse.

Zoey touched Mabel's soft nose and giggled. Paisley's ridiculous trepidation evaporated and she stepped farther inside the corral and pulled the gate closed. Trace knew what he was doing.

“I think Paisley needs to pet Mabel. What do you think, Zoey?”

“Passy pet 'ose,” Zoey demanded, then startled everyone including Mabel when she suddenly smacked Mabel's nose with a resounding whack!

Instantly all calm vaporized as poor Mabel violently slung her head as she reared up and bolted away in a thunder of hooves.

Trace had reacted by whirling away, putting himself in between Zoey and Mabel. It was apparent that Zoey wasn't in any danger, but the scared horse had made such a commotion that the poor child erupted into wails of terror.

 

“It's okay,” Trace said, trying to calm Zoey as Paisley led the way out of the corral. He hadn't been paying attention! He'd been too absorbed in watching Paisley enter the arena. Too absorbed in the vibrant way her hair caught the evening sun as it started to dip toward the horizon.

He should have been watching Zoey. Taking care that she didn't do something unexpected.

“Mabel didn't mean to scare you, darlin',” he crooned, cupping her head to his chest and rocking her back and forth. Paisley patted her back and put her face close so she could smile at Zoey. Trace felt Zoey's tears soaking through his T-shirt straight to his heart.

“Zoey can't hit the horse,” Paisley said very gently. “The horse gets scared, too.”

Zoey straightened. “'ose scart?”

Trace smiled when she turned glistening eyes to him. “Yes,” he said. “The horse was just scared.”

Zoey leaned away from him and looked through the fence railings. “I fowwy 'ose. No scart now.”

“It's very sweet of you to say you're sorry,” Paisley said, drying Zoey's tears then looking up at Trace with stern eyes.

He prepared himself for a reprimand since she had questioned his choice to enter the corral in the first place.

“Don't beat yourself up over this,” she said.

“I shouldn—”

“Button it, buster. You kept her safe. The horse didn't do anything that would have harmed her except squeal and run away.”

“But I—” he started, but, eyes flashing, she cut him off again.

“Trace. You found out that Zoey has a solid slap to watch out for in the future. And I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I can guarantee that's not the last new thing you'll learn over the next few days. Or the coming years.”

Trace felt like he had a porcupine balled up in the pit of his stomach. Paisley meant the words to help him, but she had no idea that her statement didn't make him feel the least bit reassured. The future was exactly what he was afraid of.

The only reassurance that he did have was the fact that she was standing beside him. Looking into her honest eyes bolstered his sliding spirit. He gave her a nod and then forced a smile for her benefit…it was weird, though, how the smile actually felt real the instant Paisley smiled back at him.

Chapter Eight

“S
he hasn't mentioned Steph to me yet,” Trace said on Saturday, keeping his voice low. “Has she said anything during the day to make you think she remembers her mom at all?”

They had finished supper and were walking down the drive, on a big adventure with Zoey as she made her way along, pausing to smell every buttercup and brown-eyed Susan she came across. Watching her, Paisley continued to have that overwhelming sense of thankfulness that she was so carefree and was easily settling into her new life.

“She hasn't acted like she remembers Stephanie at all. But—” she paused, placing her hand on Trace's arm “—I'm not so sure that's not a good thing for now. Look at her. She has come so far in less than a week. I was so afraid many days would be like the first day. And honestly if she did remember her mother and miss her terribly, can't you imagine how much more traumatized she would be. She would be upset and sad and she would act out those emotions in the only way a little person knows how.”

“Yeah, you're right.” Trace looked conflicted as he watched her. His devotion to his niece was openly apparent on his face. “I understand what you're saying, yet as mixed up as Stephanie was I still want Zoey to remember her. I mean, I can barely remember my mom.” He raked his hand across his brow and bumped his hat up from his forehead with a knuckle. His eyes were deeply troubled. “I bought that book she loves so much about the baby farm animals and their mothers, hoping it would help her remember.”

Paisley tore her gaze away from his profile and stared out across the pasture, blinking back her own emotions. She'd never thought about that part of it. Him not quite three with hardly any memory of his mother. Her heart wilted a little more.

“I was hoping the book would somehow help her connect to her mom. Is that crazy or what? She was one year old when she last felt her mom's arms around her…who am I kidding?” he asked. “I don't even know if Stephanie showed her any affection even then.”

“I'm so sorry,” Paisley said. Trace's tortured gaze reached inside of her. She wanted to smooth his brow, to show him the tenderness he'd missed growing up. She wanted to hug him for wanting Zoey to have more than he'd had. “I love what you're trying to do for Zoey.” She touched his jaw, unable to resist. “I believe God truly works in mysterious ways, and I believe this is one of those times. As hard as it is to acknowledge, it's easier if she doesn't remember Stephanie. She's getting to know
you
and loving it. Her mother's memory would do nothing but distort that right now.” She was saying the hard stuff. But it was the truth and she pushed on. “You're right, she was very young when social services took her away from Stephanie and you can't
help that. Or change that, no matter how much you wish you could.”

“You're right,” he said after a moment. “But it's hard to swallow.”

That a woman got herself so messed up on drugs that she neglected her child
was
hard to swallow. “Zoey is lucky to have you,” Paisley said and meant it. In the short days that she'd been here, everything she'd believed about him had taken an about-face. And it was getting harder with each passing moment to keep up her defenses, to not let her feelings turn personal.

Zoey walked over and gave Trace a tiny white flower. She was beaming as she told him how pretty it was, then headed out for more leaving Trace with the tiny flower and a smile. It was so touching, and Paisley thought of the children she wanted to have one day. She found herself drawn to Trace, mesmerized by the love she saw in his eyes as he watched Zoey.

Paisley's heart went still, aching.

Later, when she left to go home, she found it hard to leave.

 

Sam's Diner was crowded the following Thursday night for all-you-could-eat catfish. Paisley smoothed her hand across her stomach and the slight wrinkle in the cotton material. Truth was, her stomach was kinking up in knots, and no amount of smoothing was going to get rid of them.

Trace had gotten home from work at a decent hour and asked her if she'd go to dinner at Sam's with him and Zoey. She'd said no at first because it was just so…well it was just so dangerous to her weakening resolve to be around the man all the time. But then he'd said he wasn't comfortable taking Zoey into a social evening by himself. Sucker that she was,
she hadn't been able to say no to that request. After all, she was hired to help acclimate Zoey to her surroundings,
right?

Right.

And she had been doing exactly that over the course of the first two weeks. There had been plenty of ups and downs, with not every day being a smell-the-buttercups day. But all in all Zoey seemed to be a normal little girl. A few times she'd asked about the couple who had been her foster parents for the two months prior to her coming to Trace, but then she seemed to forget them. Trace had told Paisley she'd lived with three different families in the year that she'd been in foster care, and Paisley found herself continually thanking God for getting Zoey to Trace when He did.

With every passing day it grew harder and harder to get into her car and drive away from Zoey and Trace. It was obvious that she'd misjudged him, but still, that didn't help her when it came to falling for him. She couldn't fall for the man no matter how wonderful he was. Even debating the idea made her feel she was betraying Rene.

She and Rene had dreamed of marrying and buying little houses beside each other and raising their children together. Their dream included each wearing the veil with the little Forget-me-not flowers that had been passed down through generations. Family mattered. Dreams mattered. And now that Rene lived all the way up north in Dry Creek, Montana, that dream was only an option if Paisley moved there at the end of the year. Rene had mentioned she'd heard there might be an opening at the school. Rene missed her as much as Paisley missed Rene, there was no way that Paisley would ever, ever do anything that would strain their relationship. Falling in love with the man who'd broken Rene's heart—no matter why or how the
outcome had ended up—would be awkward any way you looked at it.

“Are you all right?” Trace asked, close to her ear. He'd been getting Zoey out of her car seat and Paisley had been too lost in thought to realize he'd come up behind her.

His breath sent a shiver of longing skittering over her skin and it mixed with the chill that had already come over her as she'd pondered her circumstances.

“I'm fine,” she said, with determination.

His gaze drilled into her, and she knew he could see troubled waters in her eyes as she looked over her shoulder at him. He smiled though, and placed his free hand at the small of her back, leaning close as they walked into the crowded diner. “Are you sure?” he asked. “You seem nervous or something.”

Oh, she was nervous! His lips inches from hers and the gentle hand touching her spine…“Just lost in thought,” she said, truthfully. “Hoping Zoey doesn't get scared,” she added, and focused on Zoey.

“Look who's here,” Esther Mae squealed and jumped up from the table where she and her husband, Hank, sat with Norma Sue and her husband, Roy Don. “It's about time you brought that sweet baby out to meet us,” she admonished Trace.

“Don't scare her,” Norma Sue barked, pushing out of the booth to follow Esther Mae.

Trace tensed out of his concern as to how Zoey would react to all the attention. Everyone had been patiently waiting to meet her, understanding that she needed time to adjust.

Paisley wasn't sure what prompted Trace to decide tonight was the night for Zoey to meet everyone, but she'd
known it needed to be done. All the way into town they had talked to Zoey about how she was going to meet a lot of new friends. She'd seemed fine with the concept, holding her rabbit up and declaring, “Friend.”

Now, held in Trace's arms, she leaned into him and studied Esther Mae and Norma Sue. After a moment she clamped her tiny palms onto Trace's cheeks and stared excitedly into his eyes. “Friends. I not be 'fraid,” she said, as if explaining the situation to him. As if trying to calm him.

“Ohhhh,” Esther Mae crooned.

“If that ain't the cutest little thing,” Norma Sue said.

Esther Mae nodded agreement. “Why, Trace,” she added. “She's the spitting image of you!”

Zoey dropped her hands and turned back to her admirers with a wide smile. “Thanks,” Trace said, beaming. “But she's much prettier than I am.”

That got him a round of chuckles. Paisley watched, feeling conflicted suddenly. Just look at the man. He'd thought he needed her, but it was obvious that he and Zoey had everything under control.

And that's a good thing…right?

Right, she told herself. Sure, she reminded herself…then why did she feel such an irrational sense of sadness at the idea?

She tried to ignore the turbulent emotions churning inside her as they made the rounds. Thursday nights, the diner was filled with hometown folks. Unlike Friday and Saturday nights, which you would find a mixed group of hometown people and folks visiting for the old-fashioned theater show that was given in a renovated barn out on the edge of town. Or maybe one of the weekend festivals that they held on a regular basis. One
of those was coming up in two weeks, actually, and Paisley was thinking Zoey would enjoy it. The fact that she was doing so well tonight pleased her. She just felt…what? Unneeded?

No doubt about it, she had troubles.

“Y'all look like a right smart couple,” Sam said toward the end of the evening when he came by to see if they wanted any pie.

Cassie who usually helped on Thursday nights, grinned as she passed by. “You really do,” she said.

“Yup,” Sam continued, as he patted Zoey's head then crossed his arms over his chest and studied them. “My Adela, she can shor pickum. How you two gettin' along?”

Paisley hadn't expected this much unabashed frankness tonight. Tonight was supposed to be about Zoey…not this crazy matchmaking idea.

Trace surprised her by acting as if the statement didn't mean what she knew he understood it meant. No, he just smiled slow and easy and held her gaze—there was something in that look that reached out and touched her…and her pulse reacted and there was nothing slow and easy about the way it began racing!

“We started out on a rocky slope,” he said, and she tried to concentrate on his words instead of the Olympic race happening inside of her. “But everything is leveling out nice and easy. Paisley is amazing. Isn't that right, Zoey?”

Zoey was sitting in a highchair playing with a green bean, but at Trace's question she pointed the bean at Paisley and declared in a loud voice, “Passy,
'may-
zing.”

“You said it, kiddo,” Trace agreed, leaning back in his chair and giving her a big twinkle-eyed once-over topped off with a teasing grin. “She's pretty 'mazing, all right.”

Paisley's skin turned hot as
all
eyes in the diner zeroed in on her! How could he? Fighting for calm, she tried to find the right non-incriminating comeback. “I, I think
Zoey
is amazing, too,” she managed, dropping her head and sending Trace a scathing glare from beneath shuttered lashes. Tomorrow tongues would be wagging. Didn't the man know that everyone would take that simple statement and blow their relationship all out of proportion?

 

Trace glanced at Paisley as he drove toward home. She'd been quiet all evening.

“Did I do something to upset you?” he asked, again. And just like she had the last time he'd asked the question she ignored him. Women—he didn't understand them.

He'd thought them going out to dinner would be a good thing. Kind of get them more on a path toward—well, a path toward…more. He wanted more and he'd thought he'd seen signs that she might have changed her mind about him. That more was a possibility.

He'd
thought
they'd been getting along good up until now. He'd gotten to where he hated to see her leave every evening, and it didn't have anything to do with Zoey. He wanted to get to know Paisley on a personal level. And after contemplating his move all week long he'd thought tonight would be a good excuse to see if she felt the same.

Obviously he'd thought wrong.

As soon as he pulled to a halt, she got out and headed toward her car. He glanced into the back seat of the truck, noted that Zoey was still sound asleep in her car seat and then he went after Paisley.

“Wait, Paisley. C'mon, tell me what I did wrong.” He skidded to a halt beside her car.

“Trace, it's just time for me to go home. It's been a long day. A long week. I need to go home.” She tugged her car door open. “You do remember that I have a home, right?”

He took a step back. “Sure,” he said. “I know you have a home. I only meant—”

“I know what you
meant,
Trace. But you don't have to worry, you'll do fine getting Zoey out of the car seat and into bed. You don't need me to do that for you anymore. I'll see you in the morning.”

BOOK: Small-Town Brides
4.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

IM01 - Carpe Noctem by Katie Salidas
Trinity Falls by Regina Hart
Sex Ed by Myla Jackson
Cuts Through Bone by Alaric Hunt
Dissidence by Jamie Canosa
A Most Inconvenient Marriage by Regina Jennings
Indecent Exposure by Faye Avalon
Copping To It by Ava Meyers
Dead Line by Stella Rimington