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  That only added to her guilt. And when Trace suggested they take a break from trying, she blew up. Didn’t talk to him for a week, then they fought some more, saying things that hurt. Things they couldn’t take back. She drove him away, first emotionally, then finally, physically he packed his clothes up and moved to the bunkhouse.

  Kira went to the sink and poured her coffee out. Not her proudest moment. She loved Trace more than anything, but she had to push and push to see if once again someone she loved left her. And he had.

  Kira brushed a tear from her cheek.

  Trace didn’t have a clue about what was going on inside her. But it wasn’t his fault. In the past, she’d only let him see what she wanted him to see.

  She’d been unfair to him, but most importantly right now, she hadn’t been honest, either. That had to change if they were going to survive. He deserved to know the truth. But, after all this time, could she take the chance that he might not forgive her?

  Did it even matter? In six months, she’d lose Trace forever.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  BY NOON the next day, the heat was pounding against Trace’s back. It was nearly unbearable to work, but he kept going. They had to get the storm-damaged roof replaced on the feed barn.

  “Man, you’d think the rain would cool things off,” Cal said, as he took off his hat and wiped his forehead on his sleeve.

  Trace moved another shingle into place, knowing he had no extra money to replace it. “We’re in for more rain tonight. So we better get this done, or we’ll lose all the hay and feed.”

  “It was one heck of a storm, but at least they got the electricity back on this morning.” Cal reached for a nail and hammer. “I bet Kira was frightened. I wasn’t surprised when you didn’t come back to the bunkhouse last night.”

  Trace continued to work. “She wasn’t feeling well. Once she took some medication, she finally fell asleep. I guess I did, too.”

  “Looks like I’ll be losing a roommate soon.”

  “It doesn’t look like that to me,” Trace argued. “Nothing is settled.”

  Cal grinned. “If you say so.”

  “Damn, straight, I say so.” Trace pounded in a nail for emphasis. “Can you get more work done and do less talking?”

  “Sure, boss.” Cal glanced toward the road. “But I doubt you will.” He nodded to the black, luxury sedan. “Seems Jarrett has found you again.”

  Trace turned around to see his brother climb out of the car. This was not what he needed today. “I better go get this over with.”

  Trace made his way down the ladder and caught up with his brother at the corral gate. Jarrett was dressed in tailored navy slacks, a fitted white dress shirt and Italian loafers that probably cost more than Trace’s entire wardrobe.

  “Hey, I thought I told you to come by the office.”

  “I’ve been busy,” Trace said. That was the only excuse he was giving him.

  “We’re all busy, but this is business. Didn’t want to say anything the other day with Kira there but the loan payment is due.”

  “Not until the end of June,” Trace corrected. “Don’t worry you’ll get your money.” He started to walk away, but Jarrett stopped him.

  “Hey, I’m not here to hound you. I’m here to make you an offer.”

  Trace frowned. His brother never did anything unless it benefited him. “Not interested.”

  “Come on, Trace. You haven’t even given me a chance.”

  “Okay, what is it?”

  “How about I buy back that southwest section of land? Then your loan will be paid in full.”

  Trace remained silent for a moment, knowing without a doubt his brother was up to something. “Are you going to develop that section?”

  Jarrett shrugged. “Eventually, when the market recovers. Westchester Ridge is growing with new businesses and housing will be needed.” He glanced toward the mountains. “There’s a lot of pretty scenery around here.”

  “And I plan to keep it that way. We’ve talked about this, Jarrett, I’m not crazy about running cattle up to a tract of homes.” He started to walk away.

  “What if I put in writing that I won’t develop that section of land for ten years? Would you be willing to listen then?”

  “What is it with you? When Dad and Mom died you couldn’t wait to unload your share of the ranch. I bought you out, now you want some back.” He shook his head. “What are you up to?”

  Jarrett’s gaze darted away. “I’m not at liberty to talk about it now.”

  “Well, then I’m not talking, either.”

  “I guess I’ll just wait until you lose it all,” his brother called to him.

  “I haven’t lost anything. You’ll get your money.”

  “Sure you can afford it?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Adoption can get pretty expensive.”

  Trace’s chest tightened. Of course Jarrett would have been contacted by the agency. “I’m handling it. Now, I need to get back to work.” He marched off, refusing to argue any longer with his brother.

  Mostly Trace hated that he didn’t have all the money. He was going to have to come up with some other way to pay off the loan. Worse, how was he going to be able to give Kira what she wanted, too?

  After getting Mrs. Fletcher’s phone call that morning, Kira finished her appointments at school and hurried home. The counselor had asked if she could move up the interview time for today instead of Monday. Kira would have liked the rest of the week to prepare, but she couldn’t say no.

  Except she couldn’t get ahold of Trace. She’d been calling him for hours, but kept getting his voice mail. It was nearly one o’clock when Kira pulled into the driveway. She rushed into the house and put on a pot of coffee, then straightened up the kitchen. She called down to the bunkhouse and left a message for Trace. Then tried his cell phone again, before noticing it on the table. He must have left it last night.

  A shiver went through her as she recalled the feel of his arms around her. The way she felt pressed against his strong body during the storm. Kira wanted that again. If only she could convince Trace to come back home, and back into their marriage.

  Kira’s thoughts turned to the possibility of a baby. Is that what Mrs. Fletcher would tell them today? There was also the intense scrutiny for an adoption. They could dig up a lot of things from her past. They knew about her time in foster care. All those years she hadn’t shared with Trace.

  He deserved to know the truth.

  There was a knock on the back door. Kira took a calming breath, put on a smile and opened the door to find a middle-aged woman with a big smile and warm blue eyes.

  “Kira McKane?” she began, “I’m Lucy Fletcher from Places in the Heart Agency.”

  “Welcome, Mrs. Fletcher. Please, come in.”

  Kira stepped back and allowed the woman to walk inside the big farm kitchen.

  “Oh, this is lovely.” She glanced around the newly remodeled room. There were maple cabinets and natural stone countertops and the walls were painted a spring green.

  “Thank you. My husband and I remodeled right after we were married. I just wish I could spend more time at home.” Kira directed her to the round table. And they sat down.

  Mrs. Fletcher opened her briefcase and took out a file. “I know you’ve worked with Jessica Long for the past several months, but I’m taking over some of her cases while she’s recovering from surgery. I hope that’s not a problem.”

  “Not at all.”

  “Good. When opportunities arise, there’s no time to wait.” She glanced over the paper. “You’re a high school guidance counselor. So are you planning to stay home if you have a child?”

  Kira hesitated. She wanted to, if they could afford it. “There’s no wrong answer, Kira. It’s hard these days to make it without two incomes.”

  “I’d like to stay home, of course, but adoption is expensive.”

  Mrs. Fletcher nodded. “It’s true you have to help absorb the expenses of the biological mother. One good th
ing about working in the school system, you have holidays and the summers off.” She glanced around. “Is your husband going to be here today?”

  “I hope so. I just realized that he left his cell phone here on the table this morning. And after the storm he needed to check for damage. He usually comes in for lunch.”

  “Good, I’m anxious to meet him.” She smiled. “Why don’t you show me your lovely home?”

  “Sure.” Kira took a breath and stood. “Would you like to see the nursery?”

  “Eventually. Maybe we can start downstairs.”

  Kira relaxed some as they made their way through the rooms until the tour finally ended upstairs in the master bedroom. The walls were painted a soft blue, to offset the large, dark furniture.

  She had made the bed this morning, but she couldn’t help but recall last night with Trace. How he held her so tenderly. She quickly shook away the memory.

  “The antique furniture belonged to my husband’s grandparents. I discovered it in the attic after we were married. I don’t think Trace was crazy about bringing it down.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  The next room across the hall was the nursery. Kira hesitated, then opened the door. It had been a while since she’d come in here. The walls were a buttery-yellow, with an old rocker she’d sanded and painted white. And there was a hand-carved cradle that had been in Trace’s family for generations.

  “Oh, this is lovely.” Mrs. Fletcher walked to the row of windows that overlooked the pasture. “I see you are prepared.” She went to the cradle. “Is this another treasure from the attic?”

  Kira nodded. “I know we’ll need a proper baby bed, but it’s hard to get too excited, yet. I don’t want to be disappointed.”

  “I hope that isn’t the case, too.” Mrs. Fletcher gave her a soft smile. “You and your husband have been very cooperative, releasing all your records to us.” She glanced down at her notes. “We’ve just received your medical file states that you have advanced endometriosis. No miscarriages, but a live birth.”

  Kira hesitated, then knew she couldn’t risk a lie and cause her to lose this chance. “Yes.”

  Mrs. Fetcher blinked in surprise. “You have a child?”

  Kira’s heart drummed against her chest, she paused, then rushed on to tell the social worker what she’d never told anyone. “Yes, I had a child fifteen years ago. I…I gave him up for adoption.”

  “I see.” Lucy Fletcher studied her, then said, “I appreciate you telling me, Kira.”

  “Do you think this will hurt our chances for a baby?”

  “Of course not.” The woman touched her hand. “I believe you did what was best for everyone, especially the child.”

  Just then Kira glanced up and caught sight of her freshly showered husband standing in the doorway. Panic froze her, seeing the intense look from him.

  Mrs. Fletcher turned around. “Oh, you must be Trace. I’ll Lucy Fletcher from Places in the Heart. I’ve looked forward to meeting you.”

  Trace accepted her hand and shook it. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Sorry, I’m late, I needed to shower off the mud.”

  “We did get quite the storm last night, didn’t we.”

  “And I needed to do some repairs first thing this morning.”

  Kira couldn’t help but wonder how much of the conversation Trace had overheard. “I explained to Mrs. Fletcher you forgot to take your cell phone with you. So I couldn’t get hold of you.”

  Mrs. Fletcher stepped in. “I’ve enjoyed spending time talking with your wife while she showed me around your beautiful home.”

  “Kira has done most of the decorating.” Trace stood beside her, but he didn’t touch her.

  “Well, if you have a few minutes, Trace, I’d like to talk with you both.”

  “Let’s go downstairs,” Kira suggested, praying there wouldn’t be any more talk about her past. She led them into the dining room, then went to get the coffee.

  In the kitchen, Kira willed herself to stop shaking. If Trace overheard she’d deal with it. If he hadn’t she needed to tell him. Everything. With a calming breath, she returned to the dining room table with coffee and cookies. She sat down next to Trace. He continued to answer questions she knew he’d been asked before by the other counselor.

  Finally Lucy Fletcher sat back and eyed the two of them. “Would you both be available again on Monday afternoon?”

  Kira immediately nodded. “Of course.”

  Trace hesitated. “You have more questions?”

  Mrs. Fletcher shook her head. “I’m in agreement with Jessie Long that you two would make wonderful parents. It’s a birthmother who wants to speak with you.”

  “Birthmother?” Kira said, barely capable of breathing.

  “Yes. I gave her your file and she’s asked for a home visit.” Mrs. Fletcher smiled. “She has chosen you two as possible parents for her baby.”

  Heart pounding, Kira glanced at Trace, unable to read his thoughts. She turned back to Mrs. Fletcher. “She wants to meet us?”

  “You said you don’t have a problem with an open adoption. Have you changed your mind?”

  “No! It’s just I didn’t expect it would happen so fast.”

  “Sometimes that’s how it works. So is Monday afternoon okay?”

  Kira didn’t know how to answer, but Trace took it out of her hands. “Monday will be fine.”

  Mrs. Fletcher stood. “Good. We’ll see you here then.”

  Kira walked the woman out and stood on the porch until she got in her car and drove off. Hugging herself, she tried to control her trembling as a hundred thoughts raced through her head. A baby. Were they really going to get a baby?

  Her excitement died knowing she had to face Trace. Had he heard their conversation? And how was she going to try to explain why she’d kept her past a secret? What if Mrs. Fletcher brought it up again? She turned to go back into the house, praying Trace still cared for her enough to listen to her reasons.

  Inside, she found Trace carrying the cups to the sink. He didn’t look at her. Instead he busied himself with the cleanup.

  She couldn’t let him shut her out again. “Do you have time to talk before you go back to work?”

  He grabbed the towel and wiped his hands off, then looked at her. “Don’t you think it’s a little late for that now?”

  Trace had gotten Kira’s voice message on the bunkhouse phone. Filthy, he’d jumped into the shower and dressed before he’d headed to the house to meet with Mrs. Fletcher. He’d known how important this was to Kira, and to him, too. He was willing to go through another round of invasive questions. Anything to help Kira. So she could have the child she’d always dreamed of.

  He heard Kira’s voice from the nursery, but by the time he went into the room, she’d stopped talking. She’d looked surprised to see him there. But wasn’t he supposed to play a part in this?

  “What do you mean there’s nothing to talk about?” Kira asked.

  “It seems already settled and Monday we’re going to be talking to a woman about raising her child. It’s what you want, Kira.”

  She looked hurt. “You agreed for her to come here. Please tell me now if you’ve changed your mind.”

  Trace’s mind was reeling. He didn’t realize it would be this hard. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want a child with Kira, but like this? He began to think about the next six months, living in the same house. Just walking by her and inhaling her heavenly scent. He would never feel her warmth, her softness against him. When he raised his head, those big brown eyes stared up at him, mesmerizing him.

  All the things he would lose forever. This short time was all they had together. Was this the only way he could be a part of her life?

  “It’s happening so fast,” he said.

  “Isn’t it better this way?” she asked.

  Trace studied Kira. He could see the strain on her face, knew how anxious she was. She wanted a baby, even at the cost of their marriage.

  He walked
toward her. “This is life changing, Kira. You’re taking on a lot by yourself, trying to raise a baby.”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice.” He stared down at her. He wanted her. If only to taste her mouth, bury himself into her body. But that would be a temporary fix for their problems.

  He sighed. He had some thinking to do.

  “I’ve got to get back to work.” He practically ran out, more frightened than he’d ever been in his life that he could lose everything. And he wasn’t talking about the ranch.

  Later that afternoon, Kira stood in the Winchester Ridge High School auditorium, trying to concentrate on the graduation rehearsal that was going on. But it wasn’t working. Between her lack of sleep, and the earlier visit from Mrs. Fletcher, her head was all over the place.

  Especially Trace’s disappearance. She’d planned to try to talk to him some more, but he conveniently couldn’t be found. Worse, her plan had backfired. She’d hoped for some enthusiasm about the possibility of getting a baby, instead Trace was off brooding.

  The last thing she wanted was to end their marriage. She loved Trace. When the letter arrived from the agency, she’d hoped her husband wanted to work on saving it, too.

  Now with the graduation ceremony tomorrow, she had no choice but to be at school. Then she had to get through the class roundup Saturday before the seniors would go off for the summer. After that she would have Trace alone. They couldn’t go on avoiding each other. She knew she’d pushed him away over the past year with her mood swings, her needy attitude. That wasn’t going to happen again.

  She sighed. In the beginning of their marriage it was simple. He’d loved her, and she’d loved him. Then with her difficulties to conceive a baby, things had turned sour. Instead of turning to each other, they’d turned away. So how could she ask him to just forget everything and convince him to be her husband again? So instead she offered him a divorce with no strings. She just prayed he wouldn’t take it.