His Daughter...Their Child. Karen Rose SmithЧитать онлайн книгу.
was in full swing. When Mikala waved at her, she headed to join her friend, who was sitting alone.
“You disappeared,” Mikala said, pushing her wavy black hair behind one ear.
Easily settling into the years-old routine of confiding in her old friend, she revealed, “I saw Abby. I actually held her.” She stopped when she heard the tremor in her voice, knowing she was already caring too much. If Clay wanted her gone, she’d really have no right to stay, so she couldn’t let herself get too attached.
Mikala didn’t seem to need her to say more. They sat listening to the music for a few moments.
Celeste’s thoughts raced as she tried to find a distraction. This reunion wasn’t over tonight. In the summer, the chamber of commerce scheduled rodeos for alternate Sundays, so some classmates planned to attend the event at the fairgrounds tomorrow. Maybe Clay would be there?
So much for a distraction. “Are you going to the rodeo tomorrow?”
“I’ll go if Aunt Anna doesn’t need me. The family staying in our other suite is checking out tomorrow morning.”
The Purple Pansy only had two suites, but Celeste knew Mikala didn’t want her aunt to carry the entire burden.
“I saw you dancing with Dawson Barrett before I left,” Celeste noted just in case her friend wanted to confide in her.
Mikala’s gaze went to the tall man in question who was embroiled in a lively conversation with a group of classmates.
“Is he still CEO of his own company?” Celeste asked, knowing Dawson also lived in Phoenix.
“You don’t run in the same circles?” Mikala asked with a smile.
Celeste laughed. “Oh, no. I think he’s in the millionaire club. And Phoenix is way too big for me to run into him by accident. But I read about what happened to his wife. He has a son, doesn’t he?”
Mikala’s face suddenly took on her professional look, and Celeste knew what that meant. She was a stickler for confidentiality in her practice. Had Dawson talked to her about his son?
Even if Mikala wanted to, she didn’t get the opportunity to answer. They both heard raised voices coming from a corridor that led off the cafeteria to the stairway beyond.
“That’s Jenny,” Celeste said, rising to her feet.
Mikala put a hand on Celeste’s arm. “She and Zack Decker stepped out there for a private conversation. He arrived shortly after you left. No one thought he’d come, since he hasn’t been back to see his father at the Rocky D in years. I guess everyone expected him to drive up in a limo or something. But even with that Oscar for film directing under his belt, he acted like a regular guy.”
Just then Jenny and Zack emerged from the corridor, both looking angry. Zack headed out of the cafeteria towards the school’s lobby. Jenny headed in the opposite direction, toward the ladies’ room.
“We should see if she’s okay,” Celeste said, well aware Jenny and Zack had been involved their senior year of high school.
“Let’s give her a few minutes. If she doesn’t come out, we’ll go in.”
Celeste sank down onto her folding chair again, trying to decide if reunions were a good thing or a bad thing. Old friends reconnected. The night brought back memories everyone had forgotten. Yet being together with classmates in this room stirred up old hurts, too … as well as old hopes.
Don’t go there. Old dreams were just that—old dreams. She’d returned to Miners Bluff to find new ones.
Celeste had always loved the rodeo. The scent of french fries and hot dogs, burgers and barbecued chicken wings reminded her of the times she’d come here as a teenager. Along with hiking on Moonshadow Mountain, she’d attended the rodeo on summer Sundays looking for an escape from everyday life, from gossip about her mother, from the sounds of raucous laughter that had drifted up from the bar—The Tin Pan Tavern—underneath her bedroom almost every night. When she’d earned enough money as a cashier at the grocery store to buy a rodeo ticket, she’d thrown herself into the experience, cheering on the clowns and the riders, eating fries sprinkled with vinegar, pretending for a few hours that she was an adult, free to do whatever she pleased.
Little had she known that adults had restrictions, too.
Behind her, Jenny followed her into the stands, waving at several people she knew. Celeste smiled at classmates who’d hung around for this event and found a seat near some of them.
Not long after she and Jenny were seated, a lone rider trotted from the gate behind the arena, a flag held high. Everyone stood as the “Star Spangled Banner” played.
A cheer went up from the crowd as the first event commenced and women’s barrel racing captured Celeste’s attention …
Until a deep male voice asked, “Is this seat taken?”
She’d know that voice anywhere. Before she turned to face Clay, she took a deep breath and reminded herself he was Abby’s father, nothing more.
Yet as she turned her face up to him and gazed into his gunmetal-gray eyes, she felt herself falling again into memories of another time when she’d wanted Clay to notice her, not her twin.
“Hey,” she said with a flippancy she wasn’t feeling. “I didn’t know you liked rodeos.”
“I’ve developed a taste for them.”
“You didn’t think much of them when we were in high school.” Zoie and Clay’s dates had never brought them here.
“Not true. My parents are the ones who don’t think much of them, and …”
“And Zoie wasn’t crazy about them, either.”
“No. She preferred driving into Flagstaff or Sedona to window-shop. But you loved the summer rodeo cycle.”
She was surprised he knew that. “I sure did. Still do. But I’m usually too busy to take time to enjoy one in Phoenix.”
“How did we ever become adults who don’t have time for fun?”
His tone shifted, and she could see he was serious.
After Clay settled in beside her, his arm brushing hers, she took another long breath, warning herself to stay calm. But she was nervous about Clay approaching her. What did it mean?
They watched horse and rider expertly circle the barrels, ending the competition with a gallop toward the finish line. A rousing cheer went up around them.
When the audience calmed down and the next rider approached the first barrel, Clay leaned toward her. “Do you want to find a quieter place to talk?”
She glanced at Jenny, who was deep in conversation with someone seated behind her. “Sure.”
“We can get something to drink,” he said as if they needed an excuse for leaving the stands.
She bent to Jenny. “We’re going to get drinks. Would you like me to bring you back anything?”
Jenny just looked at Clay and shook her head. “I’ll go down in a little while. Don’t hurry back on my account.”
Celeste wasn’t sure what to make of Jenny’s remark, but she followed Clay down to the ground and strode behind him until he stopped, waiting for her. “Iced tea or soda?”
“Iced tea. Unsweetened if they have it.”
After he bought them drinks, they wandered along a row of stalls until they reached a clearing behind the corrals. Riders practiced roping there. Colorfully dressed clowns passed them. A man Clay knew waved as he led a horse down the walkway.
“I should have handled last night differently.” Clay pushed up the brim of the crushable fedora that he wore most of the time when he wasn’t inside. In that hat, with its wide brim, pinched