Fortune's Honor

Clay wiped the dust from his mouth with his bandana, but his tongue still felt gritty and heavy. Water leaked from his irritated eyes, marking clear paths down his dirty cheeks. His shirt clung to him, scratchy and stiff against his shoulders, and a dull ache settled between his ears, throbbing with each step he took. In the fields, the cows bawled at each other, the incessant sound fading in the dusk. “Wanna lift, Boss?” Cody asked, his truck pulling even with Clay as he tramped down the dirt road. “No. I’m good.” “You sure? I don’t mind driving up to the house.” “No. Get home. I know Jan is waiting for you.” Cody beamed. “We’re going to the Grill tonight. A whole bunch of us. Why don’t you come out?” Clay waved him off. He wasn’t in the mood for dancing and drinking. Well, not the dancing. He was sure there were worse chores than branding, but he didn’t know what they were. There certainly wasn’t a job he hated more. After seven straight twelve-hour days, Clay was looking forward to a long, hot bath to soothe his sore muscles, a few stiff drinks, and about twelve hours of sleep. If he wanted to fit all that in before everything started again the next morning at five, he needed to get home. “Have a good weekend, Clay.” “You, too. Give Jan my best.” Cody waved, and the truck roared down the road, picking up a cloud of dust that settled on Clay’s skin and in his lungs. Sighing, he pushed forward, until he crested a small hill. The house was visible from the summit, still standing proud despite its age. His grandfather’s father had built the sprawling ranch house as a wedding gift for his second wife, and the modern pressures of the world hadn’t been enough to wrest it from the family. Even when his older brother Mark abandoned the ranch to follow a woman to Los Angeles, and his next brother, Brad, had abandoned the ranch to follow a woman to Houston, and Ryan had abandoned the ranch for the school building down the road, and Ty, the baby, had abandoned the ranch to chase his dream on the rodeo circuit, they never lost the house. Pride momentarily overcame his exhaustion as the setting sun cast orange and purple light over the endless green acres spreading in front of him. He always turned down Cody’s offer of a ride because of this moment. The moment when the world stopped, and a mellow breeze carried the aroma of grass and the cows and everything fresh. He needed to take a moment to enjoy the very thing he was busting his ass for every day. But the moment ended all too soon, and he sauntered down the hill and across the large yard to the front door. From the porch, he saw his mother’s light was already on, her body silhouetted against the window. She would be using the last rays of the sun to finish her cross-stitch for the day. Once she lost that valuable light, she would switch to something less straining on her eyes. By the time he was ready for bed, she would abandon everything involving sight in favor of listening to the baseball game, or talk radio, or anything she could pick up on the AM dial. Clay wished he had more time to give her. She was lonely. She missed her boys. She was old, and she didn’t understand why she had to spend every day in her bedroom, held there like some sort of captive. Clay had ventured the idea of hiring a nurse, or a maid, or somebody who would come in and play a game of bridge with her, but she balked at the idea, deeply offended. Clay pointed out he hired people to help him all the time, but she refused to see it was the same thing. He pushed the door open and stopped short. The first floor was bathed in light. The hallway, the living room, the kitchen. All of the lights were burning. Had Ryan stopped by? He usually called, like he needed an invitation to return to his own house. It’s your house now, Ryan would always say. I can’t just walk in like I own the place. It was Mama’s house, and all of her boys were welcome any time. But Ryan called anyway. Clay glanced into the empty kitchen and then turned into what his mother called the sun room. A tiny room with a south-facing window off the kitchen, Clay suspected it used to be a pantry, or maybe a servant’s room. It had been the sunroom his entire life, and she came downstairs in the morning when she was feeling strong enough, her tote bag clutched tightly. She only had so much time to finish her crafts; she didn’t like to waste a second. Clay stood in the doorway, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks, or if the sun had finally fried his brain. Did people hallucinate when they had strokes? Was he too young for a stroke? Clay cleared his throat. “Ma’am?” The young woman leapt from his mother’s chair, the book in her lap falling to the floor. She looked at him with wide eyes the shade of dark amber, slim fingers pleating the skirt of her green sundress. Dark blonde hair, streaked lighter by the sun, fell in careless waves to her waist, and faint freckles smattered across her bare arms. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, Clay reckoned. But that didn’t help in trying to figure out who she was. “Mrs. Putnam said the sun was best in here,” she rushed. Her voice was a soft alto, the accent most definitely not local. Someplace southern. “I’m not in the way, am I?” Clay hesitated a moment before a lifetime of training prompted him into action. Mama knew she was there, so maybe she belonged there? Were they expecting company? Clay didn’t think so, but he supposed it was possible. “No, of course not.” He offered his hand. “I’m Clay.” His name sparked an immediate response. Her brows shot up, and her gaze swept over him in another appraisal, before she took his proffered greeting. “Paige.” Clay blinked. “Paige.” He had hoped her name would jumpstart something in his memory, but he drew a blank. He had never even met another person named Paige. “I’m sorry, have we spoken before?” She pulled her hand back and resumed toying with her skirt. She was nervous; that was obvious. “No, but…Ty didn’t mention me?” “Oh, you belong to Ty.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. “I mean, no, he didn’t mention you, but I didn’t talk to him last time he called.” “Well, we haven’t been engaged that long, and this trip, well, it was kind of a last minute decision for me to come early. Ty’s not going to make it for another two weeks, but he thought it would be a good for me to have time to get to know his family.” Paige offered a small smile, her head ducking shyly. “And I’m in the way. I know. Mrs. Putnam didn’t realize I’d be coming either, but she was too nice to say so.” Engaged? Engaged? Clay briefly wondered if Ty even knew what the word meant. Commitment wasn’t his thing, much less a lifetime commitment. But, on second thought, if Ty was going to settle down with anybody, he could do worse than the creature standing before him, twisting her skirt between her fingers. “You’re not in the way,” he assured her quickly. “And Mama is always sure we’re prepared to host a whole battalion. I can show you to your room. Do you have any bags?” Paige nodded. “They’re in the front room. I wasn’t sure where else to put them.” Clay mentally downgraded his long hot soak into a much shorter shower and led her out of the sunroom. He had expected to find maybe a suitcase and maybe a travel bag, but there were six pieces—six large pieces—of luggage waiting for him. “How long were you planning to stay?” His tone must have been sharper than he’d intended because Paige colored, her skin pinking beneath her tan. “Ty said to pack for six weeks or so. That we’d leave after the Fourth celebrations. I think he thought since I’m out for the summer, it would be a good vacation for me.” Out for the summer…oh, God, please don’t let her be in high school. On the heels of that thought was another question. Did Ty plan to stick around for a month? During the height of the rodeo circuit? There was no way in hell he would be happy to stay on the ranch until the fourth. Did Ty expect him to entertain his girl and keep an eye on her? Did he expect Mama to do it? She was too weak to entertain anybody, much less a stranger. But first things first. “Oh, are you in school?” he asked as he began to gather the luggage. She slung the duffel over her shoulder and grabbed the handle of the pilot’s case. “No, I’m a special needs teacher. Elementary school level, but mostly kindergartners and first graders.” She smiled. “Kids are so sweet at that age.” If she had been in school, he would have been horrified, but not surprised. Now he was simply shocked. How had Ty found a woman with looks and brains? As much as the boy didn’t like commitment, he really didn’t like girls who could out-think him, or call him on his bullshit. Of course, he didn’t need to ask what she saw in his kid brother. He was a born charmer. “They are,” he agreed. “Not that I know many kids that age. Except my nephews. How did you meet Ty? You’re not his usual type.” She followed him up the stairs. “My baby brother loves the rodeo, and I take him every year it comes around. This year, it came around on his birthday, so as a surprise, I fixed it so he could watch with the press. Ty won his event, and we met when they were interviewing him afterward.” “I could whip him for not mentioning you sooner,” Clay said lightly, though he thought a good whipping was long overdue. Fifteen years overdue. “But that’s Ty. His heart’s in the right place, most of the time, but he can be a little thoughtless.” “Oh, I don’t know.” They came to a stop outside the guest room Ty always used when he came home, and he glanced down to see her shy smile. “I think having a good heart’s half the battle. Ty knows how scared I was about this. Maybe he thought it would be better for me if I got to make my own impression, instead of having to live up to whatever tall tales he decided to tell this week.” Clay didn’t know how to justify Ty’s behavior, but he wasn’t surprised Paige decided to go with the most kind-hearted explanation. He smiled as he pushed the door open. “Maybe he did.” He set the bags down beside the large bed and pointed to the left. “The bathroom is that way, and my room is next door. If you need anything, feel free to ask.” He patted his leg and dirt flew up. “I’ve got to clean up, but there will be food in about an hour, I guess. Just some steak and biscuits, nothing fancy.” Amusement glinted in her amber eyes. “I’m a teacher. Anything that isn’t ramen constitutes fancy in my book.” Clay was struck by the way the last of the light reflected off her hair, and the way her wry smile made the skin between her eyes wrinkle. It took a few moments to realize she had said something, and another handful of seconds after that to process it. “Well, good. That’s good.” He began back to the door, trying to think of a way to make a graceful exit. “You know, I bet all of Ty’s friends would love to meet you. They tend to go to a place called the Grill on Friday nights. Do you want to go down there later? It’ll be better than sitting around here, probably. We don’t even have a television.” Paige caught her lower lip between her teeth as she weighed her response. “Would it be rude to ask not to do that tonight? I mean, I’m going to have plenty of time to meet Ty’s friends, and really, I’m good at keeping myself company.” A hint of her smile returned. “And you don’t want to be going out again tonight, I’m sure. Ty’s told me how hard you work to keep the ranch going. I’m not here to make your life any more difficult.” “No, not rude at all,” Clay said quickly, unable to hide his relief. He would have taken her out if she wanted, but he’d much rather stay in. He was closer to the door now, and he stepped out into the hallway. “Maybe I can tell you some embarrassing stories about Ty later instead.” “Maybe.” He was reaching for the doorknob, to close it behind him, when her soft voice called his name. Clay stopped and looked up again, and was again arrested by how she appeared in the soft light. It was no wonder she’d attracted Ty’s attention in the first place. “Thank you for not making me feel like an interloper,” she said. “I was worried about…fitting in. Ty talks about all of you so much, it can get a little intimidating.” Clay smiled. “You’re not an interloper. If you’re going to marry Ty, you’re family. And we always have room here for family. I’ll see you in an hour.” He shut the door gently behind him and went to his room, thoughts of a relaxing night completely forgotten. Oddly, he found he didn’t mind. Not much. He hadn’t been lying to her. She was welcome, even if he didn’t know quite what to make of her. * * * * The room was almost bigger than her Tulsa apartment. Paige hadn’t allowed herself to gape while Ty’s brother was still there, but as soon as he left and she heard the soft click of the door next door, she turned and stared at her temporary residence. It wasn’t the fact it was lavish that took her breath away, because it wasn’t. The heavy oak furniture—two dressers, nightstands, the queen-size bed, a corner desk—was clean in lines, free of adornment. The floor was natural wood, too, with a midnight blue throw lying at the foot of the bed, while a ceiling fan with white blades revolved in lazy circles, barely disturbing the warm spring air. No, what made Paige pause was the sheer spaciousness of it all. She was accustomed to the sweeping expanse of countryside that had greeted her in the ride from the airport; she had lived the first ten years of her life in a tiny Oklahoma town. But after her brother, Garrett, had been diagnosed in kindergarten with special needs, her parents had relocated the Murphy family closer to Tulsa. Life became a series of small, rented houses after that; every spare dime went to either Garrett’s needs or Paige’s education. Then there was college and even smaller rooms. Being on her own, teaching at a small private school in Tulsa, finally meant her own place, but city life was expensive and Paige was only a couple years out of college. Her apartment was tiny. So it was no wonder it took her nearly ten minutes to get comfortable enough to unpack. The Putnams, on the other hand, were exactly as she’d imagined. Next to bull riding, Ty’s favorite topic of conversation was his family, and the tales he wove about his childhood had enthralled her from their very first date. A fistful of boys, a house bounding with noise, roughhousing and traditions and loyalty that survived their father’s death, scattering to the winds, and Nora Putnam’s failing health. Ty had warned her she wouldn’t get to meet most of the brothers until the Fourth, but Clay was already living up to his reputation. Clay was the responsible one. The worker. The one who’d sacrificed his own dreams of bull riding to allow his more talented baby brother the chance to try his hand at the circuit. Paige wasn’t the least bit surprised her first introduction to Clay came with him all grungy and grimy from working the ranch all day. The way Ty told the story, the man never stopped. He was a veritable machine. At least he stopped for supper, though. Paige hadn’t said anything, but she was starving. Nerves and a turbulent flight had kept her from eating all day. All she’d had since waking up was water and a stale cookie. The steak Clay had mentioned sounded heavenly. The knock came at the door before she was finished unpacking. “Come in!” she called out from where she knelt in front of the dresser. Clay’s clothes were identical to what he wore before—a denim shirt and denim jeans—except clean. He had lost his hat, and his long dark hair was combed back from his face, still wet from his shower. He hadn’t bothered to shave, and a day’s worth of growth shadowed his cheeks and chin. Clay’s face was tan, creased with the wind, the sun, and the stress of the life he inherited. But his eyes were a vibrant, unexpected green, and despite the exhaustion she sensed from him earlier, he was smiling. “I thought I’d take you down to the kitchen. This place can be a bit of a maze, with a century of extensions and extra rooms.” The transformation in him was mesmerizing. It was obvious he was Ty’s brother; they had the same rangy build and long features. The shade of their eyes was different, but the most astonishing difference resided in their smiles. Ty was perpetually laughing, always ready with a quick retort and a sly wink. He kept Paige on her toes, and when he was in a room, it was very difficult not to get swept up in his enthusiasm. Clay’s smile was just as engaging, but the difference that made Paige stop and stare for a moment rested in its sincerity. Ty smiled to make the world notice him; she was suddenly sure Clay didn’t give a damn what the world thought. He smiled when he wanted to, and only then. That understanding made her respect him even more. She realized after several seconds he was waiting for a response of some kind. Shaking herself out of her trance, Paige turned back to the bottom drawer. “Let me just get this closed first. It’s sticking and won’t close properly.” Clay crossed the room. “Here, let me,” he said, bending at the waist to grip the handles. He moved with ease, like he had closed that drawer a million times before, and knew just when to tug, when to lift, and when to push. “Ty jammed something back there when he was ten. Never could figure out what, but Mama still doesn’t know about it.” The simple movement put their arms in contact with each other, the soft denim of his shirt sliding across her bare skin. This close, the color of his eyes was even more startling, and the clean scent of his soap filled her head. Paige turned her head in time to catch Clay looking at her, but then he was straightening and retreating for the door again, leaving her to smooth her skirt down as she stood up. “You’re going to have to show me that trick some time,” she said. “I can’t be calling on you whenever I need to get something out of there.” He stood at the door, waiting for her to step out in the hallway before saying, “That sort of thing will become like second nature.” Paige glanced up at him, curious. “What sort of thing?” “Fixing Ty’s mistakes.” His tone was so matter-of-fact, she knew he didn’t mean it in a mean-spirited way. “You say that like you’ve had to do it a lot,” she commented. Clay shrugged. “It’s been my unofficial job since trouble started looking for Ty. Around the time he learned to walk. I saved him from more than one meeting with Daddy’s belt.” She smiled. “Ty said he could always count on you. I guess now I know why.” Clay met her eyes, and then glanced away quickly. “Well, I know I can count on him, too.” He paused at the stairs, touching her shoulder briefly to stop her from descending. “Wait a sec. I’ve got to check in on Mama.” “I thought she was going to be eating with us.” “No. She doesn’t come down downstairs often. She…” Clay hesitated. “She feels comfortable in her room. She likes to eat in there.” The thought of Mrs. Putnam eating by herself saddened Paige. “Well, do we have to eat downstairs? I mean, it’s not right she should be eating alone. If she doesn’t mind the company, I can eat up here with her.” “It’s not that she would mind the company, it’s just…” He paused. “I’m sure she would appreciate the offer.” Clay knocked twice on the door closest to the landing, and then slowly pushed it open. Nora Putnam was sitting in a chair near the window, a small radio perched on the window sill. The sounds of the ranch settling down for the night competed with the low hum of the baseball game, and knitting needles moved rapidly in her fingers. “Mama, I was just about to start supper. Would you like some soup tonight?” “Yes, that sounds fine. Did you finish the branding today?” “Got the last calf done just before dusk,” Clay said, moving over to her side and bending to kiss her cheek. Paige didn’t know the details of Mrs. Putnam’s health problems, but the gentleness with which Clay treated her, like she was something precious, meant it was more serious than anything Ty had led her to believe. Carefully, she took a step into the room, waiting until Clay had straightened before speaking. “Thank you for letting me use your sunroom today, Mrs. Putnam,” she said with a soft smile. “You were right about the light being so pretty in there.” Nora returned her smile. “Isn’t it just lovely in there?” She set her knitting aside and covered Clay’s hand with her thin fingers. Paige noticed her skin was paper-thin, lined with spidery blue veins. “Remember when I used to take you boys in there on Sunday mornings to read the Bible?” Clay smiled. “I do, Mama. Maybe tomorrow you could show Paige the family Bible. I’m sure she’d love to see it.” “Or maybe tonight.” Paige took another step closer, though her hands strayed automatically to toy with her skirt. “If you’d like, I’d love to have dinner with you. I’m sure you have a ton of stories to tell.” “Oh, that’s very kind of you, dear. But I’m picking up a Rockies game tonight.” She didn’t offer further explanation, as though nothing more was necessary. Though Clay had warned her about the possibility, Paige was still disappointed at being turned down. “Tomorrow then,” she said, drawing back to the door. “I’ll be back up with your soup in a little bit. Do you want dessert tonight?” “Do we have applesauce?” “We do. I’ll bring a bowl of that, too.” Nora nodded and resumed knitting, her gaze drifting back to the window. She looked over the darkening horizon like she was waiting for something. Clay shut the door behind them, then offered Paige an apologetic smile. “Please don’t take it personally. She and Daddy would sit out on the back porch every night, all summer, and listen to games. I don’t think she even likes baseball that much, but it was something they did together for nearly forty years.” Paige nodded in understanding, and as they started down the stairs, she stole a glance back at the closed door. She was pretty sure Ty didn’t know how bad off his mother really was. If he had known, there was no way he wouldn’t be here. Neither of them spoke as he led her through the house, taking her directly to the kitchen. She hung back near the entry when he went to the refrigerator. “You’re not really going to make me watch while you do all the work getting dinner, are you?” she asked. “I know I joked about the ramen, but I can cook. Just tell me what you want me to do.” “Mama would tan my hide if I put a guest to work,” Clay said. He flashed her a quick grin. “So don’t tell her you shredded the chicken or chopped the onion.” He set a cooked chicken breast and a large white onion on the counter, before pulling out a pitcher of what looked like chicken stock. “We just need to warm this for her supper. I wish she’d eat something with more substance, but most of the time she claims this is too much for her.” Paige smiled as she joined him at the counter and picked up the onion. “Just tell her I’m family, not a guest.” She went to the sink and turned on the cold water, holding the onion under it as she peeled away the outer skins. “What do the doctors say?” Clay pulled two steaks out of the fridge and stripped off the butcher paper. “There’s not a cure for old age and a broken heart.” Her hands faltered. It was both the saddest and most romantic thing she’d ever heard. “I wish I’d had the chance to know Mr. Putnam now,” she said softly. Clay offered a small smile. “Daddy would have liked you, I think. He always thought Ty needed a good woman to settle him down. He probably would have seen you as an answer to all his and Mama’s prayers.” A blush rose to her cheeks, and Paige ducked her head as she started to chop the onion. She loved Ty, but somehow, having this outside affirmation from a man who’d only met her that afternoon warmed her even more than the multitude of compliments Ty was always drowning her in. Maybe it was because Ty’s were always about how good she looked, which was nice not to mention necessary sometimes. But her appearance had never been what Paige was about. She got the feeling Clay understood that. She just wasn’t sure how.