took cautious steps forward. She held the sleeping baby in one arm and had the diaper bag over her shoulder. She didn’t carry a purse.
“You actually did pretty well,” she encouraged, a shy smile on a face that shouldn’t have been shy. He had never seen her as shy. She was the waitress who never backed down when the guys at the diner gave her a hard time.
“I did stay on, but it wasn’t fun and it isn’t something I want to do again. I think I’ll stick to roping.”
“You won the roping event.” She moved forward, her hand sliding up the rump of his horse. “Want me to do something?”
“No, I’ve got it.”
She stood next to him, her hand on his horse’s neck. She didn’t look at him, and he wondered why. Did she think that by not looking at him, she could hide her secrets?
“I’m going to put the baby in the truck.” She moved away and he let her go. Buck pushed at him with his big, tan head, rubbing his jaw against Jay’s shoulder.
“In the trailer, Buck.” Jay opened the trailer and moved to the side. Buck went in, his hooves pounding on the floor of the trailer, rattling the metal sides as his weight shifted and settled.
“He’s an amazing animal.” Lacey had returned, without the baby. He was tying the horse to the front of the trailer. “When you rope on him, it’s like he knows what you want him to do before you make a move.”
“He’s a smart animal.” Jay latched the trailer.
“Thank you for letting me come with you tonight.”
Jay shrugged, another movement that didn’t feel too great. He stepped back against his trailer and brought her with him, because the truck next to them was pulling forward.
“I didn’t mind.” His hand was still on her arm.
She looked from his hand on her arm to his face. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip and she shivered, maybe from the cold night air.
It was dark and the band was playing. Jay could see people two-stepping on a temporary dance floor. Couples scooted in time to the music, and children ran in the open field, catching fireflies.
Lacey smelled like lavender and her arm was soft. She looked up, her eyes dark in a face that was soft, but tough. He moved his hand from her arm and touched her cheek.
She shook her head a little and took a step back, disengaging from his touch. But that small step didn’t undo the moment. She was street-smart and vulnerable and he wanted to see how she felt in his arms.
He wanted to brush away the hurt look in her eyes, and the shame that caused her to look away too often. Instead, he came to his senses and pulled back, letting the moment slip away.
“We should go.” Lacey stepped over the tongue of the trailer and put distance between them. Her arms were crossed and she had lost the vulnerable look. “Jay, whatever that was, it wasn’t real.”
“What?”
“It was moonlight. It was summertime and soft music. It was you being lonely and losing someone you thought you’d spend your life with.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“I am right. But I’m nobody’s moment. Someday I want forever, but I’ll never be a moment again.”
He exhaled a deep breath and whistled low. “Okay, then I guess we should go.”
He felt like the world’s biggest loser.
* * *
Lacey woke up on Sunday morning, glad that she had a day off. If only she’d gotten some sleep, but she hadn’t. Jay had dropped her off at midnight, and wound up from the night, she’d stayed up for two hours, cleaning.
She rolled over in bed, listening to the sound of country life drifting through the open window. Cows mooed from the field and somewhere a rooster crowed. He was a little late, but still trying to tell everyone that it was time to get up.
The baby cried and she heard Corry telling her to shush, as if the baby would listen and not expect to be fed. Lacey sat up and stretched. She had an hour to get ready before church.
When she walked through the door of the dining room, Corry was at the table with a bowl of cereal. Rachel was in the bassinet, arms flailing the air.
“Have you fed her?” Lacey picked up the tiny infant and held her close. The baby fussed too much. “Has she been to a doctor?”
“Give me a break. Like I have the money for that. She’s fine.”
“She’s hungry and she feels warm.”
“So, feed her, mother of the year.”
“I’m not her mother, Corry.”
Corry drank the milk from her bowl and took it to the sink. At least she did that much. Lacey took a deep breath and exhaled the brewing impatience. The baby curled against her shoulder, fist working in her tiny mouth.
“I’ll feed her, you get ready for church.” Lacey held the baby with one arm and reached in the drainer at the edge of the sink for a clean bottle.
“I’m not going to church.”
“If you’re staying with me, you’re going to church.”
“Make me go and you’ll regret it.”
“I probably will, but you’re going.” Lacey shook the bottle to mix the formula with the water. “I’ve already taken a shower. You can have yours now.”
She turned away from Corry, but shuddered when the bathroom door slammed. “Well, little baby, this is probably something I’ll pay for.”
Rachel sucked at the bottle, draining it in no time and then burping loudly against Lacey’s shoulder. She put the sleeping baby into the infant car seat and was strapping her in as Corry walked out of the bathroom. She wore a black miniskirt and a white tank top.
“You can’t wear that.”
“It’s all I have.” Gum smacked and Corry busied herself, far too happily, shoving diapers and wipes along with an extra bottle into the bag.
Rachel cried, a little restless and fussy.
“I think she’s sick.” Corry looked at the baby and then at Lacey. “What do you think?”
“She feels warm and her cheeks are a little pink. I don’t know.”
Corry unbuckled the straps and pulled Rachel out of the seat. “I think she has a fever.”
“Do you have medicine for her?”
Corry nodded. “I have those drops. I’ll give her some of those.”
“And stay home with her. She shouldn’t be out. You can stay here
