He had bright blue eyes. Eyes that were the same shape and color as Gracie's. When he smiled she could have been looking at a mirror image of her own smile. If that wasn't enough to convince her she was looking at her father, he moved in front of the tall window behind him. His brown hair glowed with copper highlights from the sunshine pouring through the glass.
Trent's hand clasped hers, squeezing life into her bloodless fingers. "Breathe, Gracie."
She turned, panic rising like a waterless tide through her body. "It's him. That's my father."
He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. "Just listen and see what he has to say."
"But he's got my eyes and mouth. And I'd bet anything his hair was once as red as mine."
Trent gently held onto either side of her face and looked straight into her eyes. "Just listen to him. We'll figure the rest out afterward."
Gracie gripped Trent's hand. Right at this moment she didn't care that he hadn't told her who her father was. She didn't care that he'd lied to her when she'd asked him about Kristina and Jim. All she cared about was the man standing at the front of the room.
She listened as Jim told the audience about his life, the places he'd visited, and the program his students went through to ready themselves for the professional rodeo circuit. At the end of the talk, he asked if there were any questions. Gracie wanted to jump up and ask if he knew he had a daughter. But common sense and Trent's hand kept her bottom planted firmly in her seat.
"Do you want to meet him?" Trent asked.
Gracie shook her head. It was too soon, too much of a shock to finally meet the man she'd been searching for.
"Okay. Let's go outside and get some air." He led her around the chairs, moving to the entrance.
"Trent? I thought that was you at the back of the room." Jim Green smiled and moved toward them. Gracie froze.
Kristina looked up from talking with someone and turned white.
"It'll be okay," Trent whispered to Gracie. He smiled at Jim, shaking his hand and introducing Gracie.
She thought a zap of high voltage electricity would shoot down her arm when she touched her father's hand. But nothing happened. His skin felt rough, his handshake firm. Gracie squared her shoulders and tried a tentative smile.
"Are you all right, little lady? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Gracie opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She tried again. He must think she had two loose screws rumbling around her head. "I'm from New Zealand." This wasn't how she'd imagined meeting her father. She wanted to impress him. Wanted to sound intelligent, but she couldn't think of anything to say. "I?um?I married Trent." Still no better. She looked at Trent, hoping he'd help.
Kristina stood beside her husband. "We need to head home now, Jim."
"There's no hurry," he said. "I haven't seen Trent for months. I heard you married this little lady in Vegas."
"It was a spur of the moment thing." Trent looked down at Gracie and she nodded. "Do you have time for a coffee? Gracie has a few things she'd like to ask you."
"No," Kristina said. "We really need to go."
Jim looked between his wife, Trent, and Gracie. A frown settled on his face.
"Is it important?" Jim asked.
"No, it's not important." Kristina's voice cracked like a whip in the quiet room. She cut a razor-sharp glance toward Trent and Gracie. "You don't know what you're doing. Jim's not who you think he is."
A group of people hovering around the podium stopped to stare at the commotion happening at the back of the room. Gracie glanced at their audience. Ears were pricked to full alert and tongues would be wagging before the afternoon was over.
Jim looked in the same direction. "There's a caf? on the other side of the library."
Kristina held onto her husband's arm. "No, Jim. We don't need to listen to what they've got to say."
"I think we do. What's going on Kristina?"
"Nothing." Tears gathered in her eyes.
"It sure doesn't look like nothing to me," Jim said softly.
Kristina shook her head. She sniffed and then pulled back her shoulders.
Jim wrapped his arm around his wife's waist. "Let's find a table and some coffee."
Trent nodded and followed Jim and Kristina out of the library.
Gracie held onto Trent's hand, watching her father move through the crowd of people gathered in the library entrance. After they'd ordered their drinks, Gracie looked between Jim and Kristina. "I'm looking for my father."
Jim frowned. "I don't know if I can help, Gracie. Was he on the rodeo circuit with me?"
She nodded, almost overcome by the kindness shining in his eyes. "I was born thirty-one years ago on July 27 in Wellington, New Zealand. My mother's name is Sarah Donnelly."
Jim's face lost its color, turning his skin a pale shade of gray.
Kristina stared across the caf?. She didn't look at her husband, didn't look at anyone.
"I've had a good life." Gracie stopped, glancing at Trent. "I have a great life. I don't want to mess up your family. I just want to know if you're my father. I want to fill in some gaps."
Jim took a deep breath. He leaned his elbows on the table, dropping his head into his trembling hands. "I was in New Zealand, and I knew your mother, but I don't think I'm your father, Gracie." He glanced at his wife. "I'm sorry, Kristina."
Gracie's heartbeat stuttered. She looked between Kristina and Jim. They weren't touching, weren't speaking. Weren't doing any of the things Gracie had imagined would happen.
With a sigh, Jim pushed back in his chair, resting his head against the wall behind him. "I met Sarah in New Zealand. I was young and foolish." He glanced at Kristina and then looked back at the table. "She followed the rodeo around the country. It didn't matter where we went, she was always there. One thing led to another and, well?I'm not proud of what I did. When our tour was nearly over I realized what I had at home was more important. So I came back to Montana." Tears gathered in his eyes as he looked at his wife. "I swear that I haven't looked at another woman since."
Kristina ignored the hand Jim placed on her arm.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
A waitress came across with their hot drinks. She gazed around the table and made a hasty move back to the front counter.
Kristina looked down at Jim's hand, then up into his face. "I've known about your affair for thirty-two years." Her voice rasped raw against the chatter filling the caf?.
Jim's mouth dropped open. "How?"
Gracie held her breath.
Kristina looked down at her coffee. "A letter arrived a few months after you got back from New Zealand. I knew something had happened while you'd been gone, but you wouldn't talk about it. The letter was from Gracie's mother. She said she was pregnant."
Jim stared at his wife. "What happened to the letter?"
Kristina took a deep breath. "I burned it."
"Why would you do something like that?"
"Jacob was three years old. I was pregnant with Alex. I loved you. I didn't want you going back to New Zealand. I didn't want one mistake ruining our life together."
"The baby was my child." Jim pulled his hand away from his wife's arm. "I could have done the right thing by both of you."
"The right thing would have taken you halfway around the world. You might not have come back."
"It wasn't your choice to make," Jim said.
Kristina glared at him. "I didn't have a choice. You destroyed my trust in you. If you hadn't dropped your pants in the first place, this wouldn't have happened." She bit her lip, glancing across the table. "I'm sorry, Gracie, you didn't need to hear that. It was wrong of me to burn the letter from your mother." Kristina turned to her husband. "I can't stay here with you. I'll see you at the ranch later."
Jim stared at his wife's back as she left the caf?. He turned toward Gracie. "I'm sorry. I didn't know Sarah was pregnant. I don't know what you want from me?"
"I don't want anythi
ng." Gracie could have curled into a ball and wept. "But if there's ever a time when you want to talk to me, I'll either be on the Triple L or in New Zealand." She pulled a pen out of her bag. With a trembling hand, she scribbled her address on a paper napkin. "That's where I live in Wellington."
Jim stuffed the square of tissue into his pocket and stood up. "I need time to think things through. Look after Gracie, Trent." He left the caf?, heading out into the sunshine.
Gracie pushed her mug of chocolate away. She knew who her father was. She'd talked to him, found out more in the last ten minutes than she'd ever known before. But she felt a burn, deep in her chest, when she thought about Kristina and what would happen next.
"I've hurt them."
Trent leaned forward, resting his arm on the table. "They'll work it out."
"What if they don't? What if they can't get past all the hurt? I've destroyed a family because I wanted to find mine."
"How you ended up in the world isn't your fault. Jim made a mistake. A huge mistake."
"Maybe I did, too. I shouldn't have come here."
Trent wiped a tear off her face. "Everything that has happened in your life has made you the person you are today. And that person's special to me. Don't let regret take anything away from what you've achieved. You've found your father. You've even managed to become a half-decent cowgirl."
Gracie pulled a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose. "With a horse who thinks she's a cat." Trent passed her another tissue. "What am I going to do?"
"I guess that's up to you, Gracie."
***
Gracie arrived back at the ranch feeling like a fugitive on the run from the law. Her gaze shot around the yard. No truck. That meant she had time to pack her clothes and leave the Triple L before Trent got back. She needed to sort out the jumble of emotions running through her head, and she couldn't do that on the ranch. Not with Trent living under the same roof.
She piled her clothes into her suitcases. After putting three bags in the Nissan, she headed back inside for the last case. Gracie flicked her nightshirt out from under the pillow, picked her socks up off the floor and jumped a mile.
Trent stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest and a scowl chiseled into his face. "What are you doing?"
Gracie stuck her nose in the air. Bluffing was her specialty and there was no way she'd let Trent see how upset she felt. "I'm leaving. I'm packing the last of my clothes." When he didn't move, she asked, "Do you want to check my bags?"
"Don't be a fool."
"I might be a fool, but I married an even bigger one." She picked her suitcase off the floor and gripped her nightshirt and socks in a tight fist. "Now if you'll excuse me, I want to be back in Bozeman before it gets dark."
He didn't move from the center of the doorway.
Gracie walked toward him.
He stayed exactly where he was.
"You can't keep me in this room forever. Move out of my way."
"You're not going anywhere until we sort this out."
Trent grabbed her nightshirt. She pulled it back. "There's nothing to sort out. I agreed to stay married to you until I found my father. I've found him." She tugged hard again. "You can always marry the next person on your list."
"I don't want anyone else. I want you."
"Well you can't have me." Gracie let go of her nightshirt, watching it hang from Trent's hand. She held onto her socks in case he tried to take those as well. "I'm leaving."
Still he didn't move. A girl had her dignity, but even that had begun to wear thin. If Trent kept looking at her like his favorite puppy had died, she'd start bawling her eyes out. And that wasn't going to happen.
"What about Jim and Kristina?" he asked. "I thought you wanted to stay in Montana to get to know them."
"I don't know if they'll want to speak to me again."
Trent stared at her, his knuckles turning white against the pink cotton in his hands. "What will it take for you to stay? Do you want money? I can give you a bigger share in the ranch. We could do some traveling together. Anything, just tell me what you want."
Gracie's jaw dropped. Goosebumps ran along her skin. The man she loved had just offered her a bribe to stay married to him. She needed to get out of here before she vomited all over his miserable life.
She tightened her grip on her suitcase and heaved it forward, ramming it into his stomach.
Trent staggered back, almost catching the edge of Gracie's T-shirt as she bolted through the bedroom door.
She dropped the case at the top of the stairs and flew down the steps. Grabbing the keys off the hall table, she sprinted across the yard. Trent yelled her name from the bottom of the verandah as she yanked the Nissan's door open. She shoved the keys in the ignition, planted her foot on the accelerator and tore down the drive in a shower of gravel.
Her heart raced as she pulled out onto the main road. She'd left her favorite pink nightshirt in Trent's hand and a suitcase full of sweaters on the stairs. But she'd managed to get out of the house before one tear had slipped down her face.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm down. She'd almost been fooled. Almost believed that Trent might have been a little in love with her, but after today she knew better. Taking advantage of her drunken stupor had been bad enough, but offering her money to stay married to him was plain disgusting. He didn't think much of himself, and even less of her, if he thought she'd ever consider taking money to solve his problems.
She reached across the seat for a wad of tissues. The damn fool hadn't realized she'd stay married to him forever. For free. All she wanted was his love.
***
Trent watched the dust fly as Gracie sped down the drive, spitting gravel and dirt high into the air.
He rubbed his stomach. The edge of her suitcase had caught him off guard, but it wasn't his stomach causing him the most grief. If it had been, he wouldn't be standing in the middle of his yard calling himself every idiot under the sun. He'd been so relieved to see the Nissan sitting outside that he hadn't thought about what was happening inside.
"Hey, Trent. I saw the dust cloud down the drive. Is everything okay?" Jordan jumped off his horse and stood beside him.
"Gracie's left."
Jordan pushed the brim of his hat up. "What do you mean, left? As in gone into town? Or gone for good?"
"For good."
"Jeez. What did you do?"
Trent felt his fists bunching at his sides. "It's a long story."
"Must be to have her take off like that." Jordan kicked the stones in front of him. "So what are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing. There's absolutely nothing I can do." Trent stared down the drive. No amount of wishing would get Gracie back. She'd found what she'd been looking for and that didn't include him.
"So you're just going to let her leave?"
"What do you want me to do? Chase her down the drive like some love-sick fool? I don't need to be told twice that I'm not wanted. She made it perfectly clear that she hates my guts."
"She's your wife. You've only been married for a couple of weeks. You have to do something."
"No, I don't. I've got work to do and you're going to mind your own business." He gazed down the drive one last time before heading across the yard.
"Whatever happened can't be as bad as?"
"Leave it, Jordan." Trent kept moving. He needed to forget about Gracie. Forget about the mess he'd made of his life. Gracie was gone and she wouldn't be coming back.
***
Trent spent the rest of the day stacking hay in the barn. He ignored the loft as he shoved bale after bale into every nook and cranny he could find. Remembering a redheaded pixie perched high in the rafters wasn't going to get her out of his mind. He threw the forklift into reverse, picking up the last bale. He'd be damned if a five-foot-one minx would put him in a tailspin. He had work to do. He didn't have time to worry about a woman who didn't want anything to do with him.
When he'd finis
hed in the barn, he headed across to the house. A long hot shower would wash away the dirt and dust caked to his skin. Maybe even clear his head and make him feel half-human again. Wiping his arm across his face, he jumped when his cell phone rang. His heart kicked up a notch. Looking down at the caller display, he groaned when he saw it was his mom. Heaven help him if he kept thinking Gracie would be on the end of each call, telling him she'd be home soon. He held his phone to his ear.
"It's your mother, Trent. What's going on between you and Gracie?"
He knew that tone. He frowned, trying to figure out how she'd found out that Gracie had left. There was only one person that knew what had happened. His brother's big mouth must have been working overtime the minute he'd left the ranch. "It's not as bad as Jordan made out, mom."
"Don't you Jordan me, Trent McKenzie. He had nothing to do with it. Gracie turned up here two hours ago with her suitcases and your Nissan, wanting to leave the truck here for someone to collect. She looked about as miserable as a cat caught in a snowstorm, so I convinced her to stay with me. I've sent her off to get some groceries while I talk to you. Now what's going on?"
Trent kept walking toward the house. At least Gracie hadn't broken her neck between the ranch and Bozeman. "We had an argument. A bad one."
"No kidding. It doesn't take nearly forty years of mothering two boys to know when someone's upset. She's your wife. Gracie's thousands of miles from home. You're the person she loves, so sort out whatever's causing the problem and take her home with you before she's gone for good."
He took a deep breath, dreading what he had to say. It was all well and good knowing your wife didn't love you and your fake marriage was falling apart. It was another thing telling your mom. "Gracie and I are getting a divorce."
Silence hissed down the phone.
"What do you mean, you're getting a divorce? You've only been married two weeks. No one gets a divorce after two weeks."
"We shouldn't have gotten married in the first place." Trent felt sick. His stomach clenched in tight knots remembering Elvis and the shuttle full of excited witnesses.
"Nonsense. A blind man could see that the two of you are meant for each other. Sit down with Gracie and talk about what's going on."