“What I heard was anger and defensiveness.”

  “Yeah, imagine that. They’re angry that their mother ditched them six years ago.” He got to his feet, angry. “I’ll go scrounge up something for dinner.”

  “Talk about defensive,” she called after him. “Can’t we just have a conversation about this?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “Well, who’s fault is that?”

  He went in the kitchen, rummaged through the fridge, and didn’t find a damned thing to make, even though there was plenty of food. He plopped down on one of the stools, rested his face in his hands, and let out a long sigh. He took a moment, then went back to the living room.

  “Let’s go to Gina’s,” he said.

  “What about the kids?”

  “They can fend for themselves. You up for it?”

  “I’m up for anything that doesn’t involve me cooking—or fighting.” She gave him a hard look.

  “I’m sorry,” he said and tugged her up off the sofa into his arms. “I’m wound up.”

  “Why are you letting her do that to you? Why are you giving her that kind of power?” She locked eyes with him.

  He thought it was obvious why and was about to tell her that when he thought better of it. It would only trigger another argument.

  “Let’s have a nice dinner out and not talk about this tonight. Tell me about Mitch.” He wanted to talk about Mitch like he wanted a hole in his head, but it was better than dwelling on Mary Ann.

  Charlie found her purse and on the way to Jace’s truck said, “I liked her.”

  “You liked who?”

  “Mitch’s fiancée, Cheryl. She’s so open and sweet. And just a bundle of enthusiasm.”

  “Well, Mitch will fix that.”

  Charlie stopped in her tracks and Jace could feel her instantly tense. “Is he really that awful?”

  “No. He’s not like that.” Physically abusive. He didn’t have to spell it out for Charlie. She’d lived it with her ex. “At least not that I know of. He’s a pompous son of a gun, but I grew up with the guy and he’s never laid a hand on a woman in front of me. Ask Aubrey.”

  “Aubrey just thinks he’s a joke.” Charlie started laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “When she saw him today at the store Aubrey told him that he owed her two thousand dollars for her out-of-pocket wedding expenses. You should’ve seen the look on his face.”

  Jace laughed too. It was the best thing he’d heard all day. “How did old Mitch take that?”

  “You wouldn’t believe it, but he wrote her a check on the spot. I don’t think he ever told Cheryl about Aubrey, or Jill, and was mortified.”

  “As he should be. Aubrey better hurry up and cash that check before Mitch puts a stop payment on it.”

  “He wouldn’t, would he?”

  “Nah. He’s probably afraid Aubrey will kick his ass.”

  “I hope he’s good to Cheryl because she’s truly lovely. He did seem dazzled by her, I will say that.”

  Jace parked in front of the restaurant so Charlie wouldn’t have too far to walk.

  “He told Brett and me that she’d made him a better man.” Jace threw back his head and laughed. “The guy is so full of crap.”

  Charlie poked him in the arm. “When did you become so cynical? Maybe it’s true.”

  “Maybe you just want to see the best in people.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “Maybe because I’ve seen the very worst it makes me want to believe.”

  He squeezed her arm. “You’re a good person, Charlotte Dalton. Best thing that ever happened to me, that’s for damn sure.”

  Chapter Nine

  When Charlie got to Refind the next morning to open the shop there was a woman there. She was waiting at the locked door. Charlie knew instantly who the woman was and her heart sank. Not because Mary Ann was even more beautiful than she was in pictures, which admittedly made Charlie feel insecure. But because Charlie knew intuitively why she was here.

  Mary Ann’s gaze dropped to Charlie’s belly and something flickered in her eyes. Sadness maybe. But Charlie couldn’t say for sure.

  “Can I help you?” Charlie’s voice was tight.

  “I’m Mary Ann Dalton, Jace’s ex-wife.”

  Dalton.

  Charlie flinched. Dalton was now her name. And yet another woman had come before her. It was Mary Ann’s not-so-subtle way of reminding Charlie of that.

  “I know who you are. And you shouldn’t have come here.” Charlie unlocked the door and flicked on the lights.

  Mary Ann followed her into the store. “I hoped we could talk.”

  “You should talk to Jace, not me.”

  “I already did that and it didn’t go too well.” Mary Ann let her eyes drop to Charlie’s belly again. “I thought we could talk mother to mother.”

  The phone rang and Charlie went behind the counter to take it, hoping it would give her time to compose herself. Or even encourage Mary Ann to leave. Her surprise visit had ruffled Charlie. The right thing to do—for Jace and for the boys—was to tell Mary Ann to go, that her ambush—because what else would you call it?—was inappropriate. But her curiosity outweighed good sense.

  The call was from a client who was redoing her den and wanted to know what kind of coffee table she should use for her crescent-shaped sofa. While Charlie ticked off a couple of ideas and dimensions, Mary Ann browsed around the store. She wasn’t leaving, that was clear.

  “You have a lot of beautiful things here,” Mary Ann said after Charlie got off the phone. “The Village is interesting.” She nudged her head to indicate the shopping center. “It doesn’t strike me as something Jace would’ve gotten behind. He was always about preserving the ranch. About the cattle.”

  While Mary Ann was just voicing an honest observation, Charlie resented it. Perhaps it was petty, but it felt as if Mary Ann was trying to show that she knew Jace better than Charlie did.

  “Dry Creek Village was Jace’s idea. It was the best way to preserve it for the next generation of Daltons.” Charlie said it with an edge in her voice. But Mary Ann didn’t appear to notice because she just nodded.

  “It’s impressive. So is your store.” Mary Ann toyed with the stack of business cards on the counter. “So Aubrey’s your partner, huh?”

  Charlie had it on good authority that Mary Ann and Aubrey couldn’t stand each other.

  “Yes, she is.” Charlie locked eyes with Mary Ann and, to borrow a phrase from Jace, said, “Why don’t you just cut to the chase?”

  “Okay. I’ll be direct, then. I came here to ask you to lobby Jace on my behalf. I realize that you don’t know me, that you’ve heard what a lousy mother I’ve been, and that you probably dislike me. But if you have any feelings for my sons, which I assume you do, you understand how important it is that I make peace with them. Not for me but for them.”

  “May I be direct too? Because what I’m going to say next will be hurtful to you.”

  Mary Ann gave an imperceptible nod, but Charlie could see that she was girding herself for a verbal assault.

  “I’m sorry,” Charlie said softly. “But I must abide by Travis and Grady’s wishes. And they’ve asked not to have contact with you.”

  Pain washed over Mary Ann’s face. It was so pronounced that Charlie could feel it deep down in her own chest.

  “I would hate me too,” Mary Ann said in a whisper of a voice and swatted at her eyes.

  Charlie went into the back room and returned with a box of tissues.

  “Do you have any pictures of them?”

  Charlie was torn. To continue engaging with her felt like a betrayal of Jace, Travis, and Grady. But she couldn’t help but feel for the woman. And what would it hurt to show her a few pictures?

  Charlie fished her phone out of her purse and cued up the most recent pictures she had of the boys from her photo gallery. Travis in his dorm room at Cal Poly. A picture of him with Grady at a restaurant in San Luis Obispo the weekend they’d moved Travis to college. And one of Charlie’s all-time favorites, a photo of Grady wearing a Santa hat at Christmastime sprawled out on the floor with the two dogs under the tree. There was also a picture of both brothers sitting on top of the fence at the horse barn, the brims of their cowboy hats pulled low over their foreheads.

  “They’re so grown up.” Mary Ann’s hands shook as she held the phone. “Oh God, I’ve missed so much.”

  “Why?” It was something Charlie couldn’t fathom. “Why did you leave them?”

  Mary Ann looked up from Charlie’s phone, her eyes brimming with tears. “If you’re looking for a good sob story, I don’t have one. I’d always wanted to travel, see the world. Then I met Jace, got pregnant, and before I knew it I had two toddlers at my knee. It wasn’t the plan. It was never the plan, but it just happened.”

  She wandered over to the window and stared outside. “I got depressed. I don’t know if you would call it clinical or anything, but I felt like a shell of myself. Like there was nothing left in me. And then one day I couldn’t take it anymore and I left, figuring the boys would be better off with Jace than they were with me. I didn’t go far at first. But just being away . . . from them . . . made me feel free, like a bird that had been allowed to fly after its wings had been clipped. I used to come and visit. But even that got hard. The boys—and Jace—would cry and beg me to stay and I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. It was crippling being here. Like the minute I drove onto the ranch, my arms and legs felt shackled, literally chained. Sometimes I’d sit in my car just trying to catch my breath, just trying not to die. Have you ever felt that way?”

  Charlie had. Right after Corbin would hit her or kick her or berate her until she felt like nothing. Like zero.

  But with Mary Ann it was different. Jace and the boys loved her. She’d been cared for here. She’d been safe.

  “Do you think it might’ve been a form of postpartum depression?” Charlie was by no means an expert, but that’s what it sounded like to her. “Did you seek help?”

  Mary Ann let out a wry laugh. “Yes. My help was a ticket on the first outbound plane to anywhere. I visited every place I’d ever wanted to go, every place I’d ever dreamed of. Africa, Central America, South Asia, Eastern Europe, you name it. I wound up in France at a small artists’ commune in Antibes, where I fell in love.”

  Charlie suspected there was more to the story, but Mary Ann was far away now. Somewhere painful, judging by her glassy expression.

  “What happened?” she finally asked.

  “Denis, a man I met in France, came into my life. And everything changed. My whole world opened up. He was a painter, an artist of some renown, and we fell desperately in love. We were expecting our first child together.” She paused and that faraway expression returned. “A car broadsided us on our way to Paris for Denis’s gallery show.” She stopped again and tried to compose herself, then in a shaky voice said, “They said Denis died instantly. It took me two days to lose the baby. And two years to mourn.”

  Charlie knew what it was like to lose a child and her heart folded in half. “I’m so terribly sorry, Mary Ann.”

  “Even now I wonder if it was my punishment for what I did. For me abandoning Jace and my boys.” She turned to Charlie. “You must think I’m a horrible person.”

  “I think you’ve made mistakes, yes. Horrible? All I know is that you’ve hurt the people I love most.”

  “I know I can’t take back what I did, but I want my boys to know that I never stopped loving them, that I never stopped feeling them right in here.” She placed her hand on top of her heart. “When I lost Amélie—that’s what we had named her, a baby girl—all I could do was think about Travis and Grady. About what I’d done to them. About how I missed them.”

  She dried her eyes with the tissues Charlie had given her. “Please help me make it right with them again.”

  * * *

  Charlie had never seen Jace this angry. He was trying desperately to keep his cool, but she could tell he was fuming.

  “What was I supposed to do? Tell her ‘I’m sorry about your tragedy, now get out of my store’?” Charlie said.

  “You shouldn’t have let her worm her way in in the first place. I thought we were united on this.”

  “We are. But is this really the right thing to do for Travis and Grady? Shouldn’t they at least hear what she has to say?”

  “You’re going to lecture me on what the right thing for my sons are? I’m their father; I’ll decide what’s right for my kids.”

  He may as well have slapped her across the face or kicked her in the stomach.

  I’ll decide what’s right for my kids. My kids.

  It was the first time he’d ever drawn a line in the sand, the first time he’d ever told her that he considered her an outsider when it came to Travis and Grady. That in essence she wasn’t an integral part of their family. His first family.

  He immediately realized his mistake and went toward her. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

  She pulled away. “How else could’ve you meant it, Jace?”

  “Not like that.” He rubbed his hand down his face. “Not like how you think I did. Ah, jeez, Charlie. I’m upset. That’s all.”

  “I have to wonder why you’re upset. Is it for the boys? Or for you?”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “You tell me. Ever since she came roaring into town you’ve been angry. Are you angry for Travis and Grady? Or are you angry for you? Because she left you. You!”

  She turned on her heels, went to the bedroom, and slammed the door. That was when a cramp sliced across her stomach, making her double over. She made it to the bed and lay on her side the way her obstetrician told her to do.

  It’s nothing, she told herself, just normal third trimester cramping or Braxton-Hicks. She’d be fine as long as she rested.

  Jace came charging through the door, took one look at her, and his expression turned from fury to fear. “What’s wrong?”

  “I had a cramp. That’s all. It’s probably all the stress this is causing. It’s gone now. I just need a few minutes.”

  He lay down next to her on the bed and rubbed her back. “You sure? Should we call the doctor? Maybe you’re going into labor.”

  “No, it’s too soon. Dr. Orville said occasional cramping is normal. I’m doing exactly what she told me to do. Do you have your boots on the bed?”

  He laughed, and the sound of it was so reassuring that it filled her with love, even though she was still angry with him.

  Jace swung his legs over the bed and she heard each boot drop to the floor, then he was spooning her again, his warm body encasing hers like a weighted blanket. He left a string of kisses across the back of her neck. “Better?”

  “Much better.”

  “Just rest, okay?” He pressed against her.

  “You too. But we’re not done talking about this.”

  * * *

  The barbecue was at Cash and Aubrey’s. Besides Charlie and Jace, they had the biggest house, with an outdoor kitchen and a large smoker. Cash liked getting his grill on as much as Jace did. All the Dalton men considered themselves pit masters, although Gina and Tuff were no slouches either. You couldn’t live on a cattle ranch without mastering the art of the grill.

  Everyone brought sides and Gina always made the dessert, which tonight was strawberry shortcake. The strawberries were from the restaurant’s garden and Charlie couldn’t wait to taste a slice. They set everything out buffet style on a long picnic table. There were at least three salads, heaping bowls of chips, a Crock-Pot full of beans, and garlic bread. The host always provided a big jug of Jimmy Ray and Laney’s sarsaparilla and they all brought beer and wine. It was enough food to feed two counties, yet they rarely had leftovers. The Daltons had big appetites.

  Charlie’s nap with Jace had only temporarily quelled her uneasiness about the Mary Ann situation. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that Jace wasn’t as done with his ex-wife as he let on. After six years his hostility toward her should’ve mellowed. She could understand a fresh resurgence of resentment toward Mary Ann for showing up here and demanding to see the boys, but not a burning fury that consumed him. It was too much emotion for a man who was supposedly over his ex-wife.

  Charlie didn’t doubt Jace’s love for her, but what if he still loved Mary Ann? What if he loved his first wife more?

  She excused herself from the party to use the powder room in Cash and Aubrey’s sprawling hacienda-style ranch house. Aubrey had worked side by side with the architect to design it and it was marvelous. Saltillo tile floors, thick white walls, vintage Mexican rugs, and chunky wood-beam ceilings.

  Charlie loved hers and Jace’s home, but she envied Aubrey for getting to put her own personal touch on this place. Charlie’s home had been designed by Jace’s grandfather and except for a few knickknacks, pieces of furniture, and artwork that she had added, it was exactly the same as Grandpa Dalton had left it.

  The powder room was one of Charlie’s favorite rooms in Aubrey’s house. It was small, but Aubrey had gone all out with handmade Mexican tiles, a vessel sink stand made of wrought iron with matching towel and tissue holders, and forged-iron light fixtures.

  She took a quick look in the mirror; even that was a work of art, framed in carved wood from an old Mexican barn. Her face was pale and slightly puffy and she had dark circles under her eyes.

  The memory of Mary Ann’s flawless skin flashed in her head and she quickly swatted it away. She was being ridiculous. She was pregnant, not ugly. Despite all the BS about pregnant women glowing, Charlie had never looked worse. Her petite frame was carrying an extra twenty pounds, her feet were swollen, her hair was limp, her skin was sallow, and she looked perpetually exhausted.

  Even though it was only a temporary state, she couldn’t help but compare herself to Mary Ann, who had the figure of a goddess and probably turned every head in a room. Charlie was sure Mary Ann was turning Jace’s head. Ever since he’d found out she was in town, Charlie sensed a difference in him. He was behaving like the hero in one of Charlie’s enemies-to-lovers romance novels. And she knew how those ended.