Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Clara had felt so smug when she was giving advice to Sophia about Hunter, but that attitude disappeared with a snap when it was her turn to be in the hot seat. Sophia had sat with her in the lobby until suppertime, and then Clara had insisted that she go spend time with Hunter. They’d gone into Palestine for ice cream, and the hotel seemed as empty as Clara’s heart. If this was what it felt like after an argument with your husband, she wasn’t sure she even wanted to be married.

She wandered through the lobby, into the kitchen, and then out to the courtyard. The shape of her body still lingered in the dust accumulated through the winter months, when few people came out to the courtyard. She made a mental note to ask Luther, who usually cleaned that part of the place.

She sat down on one of the chairs and watched the sun paint a bright array of colors in the sky as it sank behind the gate at the end of the courtyard. She’d talked with Sophia about the argument, and now it continued to play in a never-ending loop through her mind—word by word, emotion by emotion. Could she have handled it a different way? Maybe just put the hotel idea out there a bit at a time without hitting Trevor with it all at once?

Millions of stars popped out to dance around the moon, and she stared at them without blinking, still trying to rewrite the whole day—but it didn’t work. The argument had happened and she would have to deal with the fallout at some time. Her phone pinged, and she figured it was her sister, so she pulled it out of the pocket of her pajama pants. The message was from Trevor: I’m sorry. Can we talk?

She sent him the link to a song by The Chicks titled “Not Ready to Make Nice.” The lyrics talked about not being ready to make nice or back down. Someone was still mad as hell. The words seemed to be fitting when they said she wasn’t ready to do whatever it was he thought she should.

When she hit Send, she sat back and listened to the song all the way through at least half a dozen times before her phone pinged again: When will you be ready to talk?

“I don’t know,” she whispered as she typed the same words.

She listened to a soliloquy of crickets and tree frogs for an hour, but she didn’t get an answer. Evidently, Trevor didn’t like what she’d said, or what the lyrics to the song said, but she was standing her ground. She would not start out a lifetime commitment with the possibility of regrets, not even if she had to suffer a broken heart.

Finally, she went back into the hotel, waved at Hunter and Sophia, who seemed to be in deep conversation at the kitchen table, and went on upstairs to her room. She sat down in a rocking chair facing the double doors that opened to the balcony and got so lost in her thoughts that the knock on her door startled her.

“Come in,” she said.

Sophia poked her head in the door. “I just wanted to let you know that Hunter and I have made the decision to keep the hotel, but only if you’re in it with us. We could hire someone to do the books and help us, but we wouldn’t trust them like we do you.”

“I’m staying,” Clara said. “I’ll send my resignation or take it to the bank tomorrow.”

Sophia came into the room and bent to give her sister a hug. “We won’t always agree, and we’ll argue.”

Clara hugged her back and smiled. “We can’t change who we are and we don’t really want to, do we?”

Sophia took a couple of steps back and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Have you heard from Trevor?”

“He’s sorry, and he wants to talk,” Clara answered. “I’m not ready.”

“You’ve always been the peacemaker and you hate confrontation,” Sophia said. “What’s changed?”

Clara shrugged. “I grew up. You’ve only got a couple of nights before we get bombarded with folks, and then the wedding is the next day. You need to spend this quiet time with Hunter, not sitting here trying to make me feel better.”

“You are my sister,” Sophia reminded her. “Hunter and I will have a lifetime of nights, but right now you need me.”

“Thank you, but I’m fine,” Clara assured her and pointed at the door. “I’m going to bed and . . .”

Someone knocked on the balcony doors and Sophia hopped up. She slung the door open to find Trevor standing there with his hat in his hand. She turned around and smiled brightly at Clara. “I guess you aren’t the only one who jumps over fences and climbs up dogwood trees. Your knight in dusty armor has arrived, but he doesn’t have a rose between his teeth.”

“Trevor, I told you that I’m not ready to talk,” Clara said.

Trevor took a step back and sat down in a white rocking chair. “Then I’ll wait right here on this balcony until you are.”

Sophia closed the balcony doors and locked them. “I’m going to my room now. If you need me, just call.”

“I won’t, but thank you,” Clara said. “You and Hunter have a good night.”

“Oh, honey, we will.” Sophia winked and disappeared out into the hallway.

The Clara who had always hated confrontation of any kind wanted to go out on the balcony and have it out—again—with Trevor. The Clara who wasn’t ready to forgive and forget stretched out on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Sheer mental exhaustion took over, and she fell asleep a few minutes later and didn’t wake up until sunlight flowed in the window and warmed her face the next morning.

She got out of bed, cracked the door enough to see that Trevor had kept his word about not leaving the balcony until she talked to him and was slumped down in the rocking chair with his hat over his eyes. She tiptoed down the stairs, made a pot of coffee, and carried two full mugs back up to her room.

She set them on the side table by the bed and eased the balcony doors open. Then she picked up the coffee and took it outside, sat down in the second rocking chair, and put the coffee on a small round table between the chairs. She picked up the mug with sunflowers on it, took a sip, and held the warm mug in her hands. It felt good in the brisk morning breeze.

The smell of the coffee must have awakened Trevor because he sat up, adjusted his hat, and rolled his neck around to get the kinks out. “Are we ready to talk?”

“Depends,” she answered and pointed to the extra mug. “That’s for you.”

He picked it up and took the first sip. “Am I forgiven?”

“Not until we come to an understanding,” Clara answered. “I’m going to work here at the hotel five days a week. If there’s a full house, I might have to come in for half a day on Saturday, but Sundays should always be fairly free. Can you live with that?”

“My mother and my sisters-in-law have raked me over the hot coals,” Trevor said. “They reminded me that living on the ranch and working there was their decision, and that I was a total jackass for expecting you to bend to what I wanted. I was angry with them at first, but then I realized that if you regretted doing what I wanted, you would be miserable, and I love you too much to be the one who hurts you in any way.”

“I didn’t ask you if you’d gotten in trouble,” Clara said. “I asked if you could live with my decision.”

“Yes, I can,” Trevor answered without hesitation.

“Then you are forgiven,” Clara told him.

Trevor set his coffee aside. “What if you and Sophia hate working together?”

“Then we’ll work it out between us,” she answered.

“What about our children?” Trevor asked.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we have kids,” Clara replied. “Like the old song says, ‘One Day at a Time.’ Let’s plan for tomorrow, but let’s enjoy today.”

“So, you aren’t mad at me anymore?” Trevor asked.

“Are you still upset with me?” she shot back at him. “In five years are you going to wish you’d married a woman like your sisters-in-law? That you had a wife who loved ranching as much as you do? I’m willing to compromise in this relationship. What do you want?”

He removed his hat and looked her right in the eye. “I want you, Clara.” Then he stood up, moved to drop down on one knee in front of her, and took her hand in his. “Clara Delaney, you are the love of my life. Just thinking about my life without you in it is unbearable. Will you marry me?”

“You’ve already proposed,” she whispered.

“Yes, but I’m doing it again, just so you know how much I love you,” he said.

“Yes, Trevor Richmond, I will marry you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and then leaned back and kissed him. “I’ve heard that makeup sex is the best. Shall we see if the hype is all it’s made out to be or do you need to get back to the ranch to work?”

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her through the double doors into her bedroom. “My family told me not to come home without settling this with you, so darlin’, I’ve got all day to see if the hype is true. And honey, I realize now that the ranch comes second to you and always will.” He kicked the doors shut with the heel of his cowboy boot.