Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
T he days rolled into each other, one after the other.
The fall festival was fast approaching, and with it came the turkey costume that nearly cost Trinity her sanity. Despite being told that all of the other kids would have sandwich board style costumes made from paint and cardboard, in the eleventh hour, it was revealed to Trinity that no, that’s not what Mia had said. Everyone was wearing fabric costumes now, and Mia would look ridiculous if she showed up in the costume Trinity had already spent an unreasonable amount of time constructing and painting.
So, the night before the festival, Trinity made the executive decision to call in the experts. With an armload of fabrics, ribbons, and feathers, Trinity showed up on the doorstep of the ranch house with a smile and an apology at the ready.
But Nana Jo just ushered her inside and into the kitchen where she already had her Singer sewing machine set up, along with a kettle of cider warming on the stove.
“I’m so sorry to drag you into this project at this hour,” Trinity said as she unloaded all of her supplies. “I owe you big time.”
“Don’t owe me a thing.”
Mia was in the barn with Spencer, and Trinity had left Liam with her parents. She would have left her daughter, too, but knew she would be needed for measurements and fittings. Plus, Mia had no issue with tagging along to the ranch. Over the last week, it had practically become her second home as she continued lessons with Bluebell and learned the ins and outs of horse care.
One night, as Trinity was tucking her young daughter into bed, Mia had confessed that Brynne had a new best friend and wanted her necklace back. Trinity hated the pettiness that started so young, her heart squeezing for her daughter and the ridiculous kindergarten drama she’d been pulled into. But as soon as she said it, Mia had followed up with, “Doesn’t matter. Bluebell’s my best friend, anyway.”
Trinity had wondered how healthy that was—for her daughter to consider an animal her friend. She’d consulted with a local children’s psychologist who actually reassured her that horses were the perfect animals for this sort of therapy and that there truly was a connection between a horse and its person. She had even suggested that Liam begin spending time with the animals. That it might help with some of the acting out he’d been doing recently.
Nana Jo had also been a huge reassurance in this area. Said there was nothing more grounding, therapeutic, and comforting than a horse. Trinity had yet to experience that, but she didn’t doubt it to be true.
As the two women worked on the turkey costume that night, Trinity could see the barn out the front window, the lights on in the big center aisle where Spencer and Mia were busy picking Bluebell’s hooves. The horse had become a pampered princess. Her hair was plaited in the thickest braids tied with little white bows at the ends. And goodness, how her coat was shiny. Was it possible to brush a horse too much? Trinity figured Spencer would tell Mia if it became a problem. But all the girl wanted to do was love on that horse, and it seemed like the feeling was mutual. Bluebell was always so happy to see her, bending her long neck to press her muzzle to Mia’s cheek in what Trinity could only figure was a horse’s way of kissing. It was the most precious sight.
Two hours later, Trinity and Josephine had put the final touches on the costume. It was amazing, so much better than a cardboard version. Trinity wondered how many costumes Nana Jo had made over the years for sons and daughters, nieces, nephews, and grandchildren. And now the poor woman was asked to continue sharing her talent with children that had absolutely no relation to her. Trinity figured she would never complain, but she was still well aware that it was a big ask.
“Can I pay you?” she offered as Josephine clipped the last loose thread with a pair of scissors and pulled her reading glasses from her nose.
“Absolutely not. Your money is no good here.”
She’d heard that before, but from a different person here at the ranch. Mia had taken several lessons at this point, but Spencer had yet to accept any form of payment for them. There was always an excuse. Bluebell was really dirty— he should be paying them for all the help in cleaning her up. The lesson hadn’t gone the full hour—he would have to figure out the prorated amount later and get back to her (he never did). Mia had just gotten her first progress report (all A’s)—the lesson was Spencer’s treat.
Trinity was, of course, thankful for his generosity. But she hated feeling like a charity case. Yes, things were tight, but she could pay her own way.
“Are you sure?” she asked Josephine once more. “At least for the thread and the extra fabric we used from your collection.”
“Nope.” Nana Jo gave her a firm headshake. “But there is one thing you can do for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Scoot on down to the barn and send your sweet daughter up so I can have her try this on.” She held up the costume and gave it a good shake.
“I can do that.”
“Oh.” The woman raised a halting finger. “One more thing.”
“Sure.”
“Stay down there with my grandson until I call you back up.”
Trinity gave her a long look. “Nana Jo…”
“He really shouldn’t be with the horses unsupervised.” She flashed Trinity the most devious wink. “Not too experienced, and you know how unpredictable those animals can be.”
“They might be, but you certainly aren’t,” Trinity countered, grinning.
“What can I say?” She shrugged. “Sometimes people just need a little nudge in the right direction. I’m nudging you in the direction of the barn and the handsome cowboy within it.”
Trinity couldn’t argue there, at least not with the handsome part. She wasn’t sure what it was—if Spencer was just becoming more settled in his surroundings or something else—but he had been so much more attractive to her lately. Watching the sweet way he showed Mia the ropes of horsemanship was a turn on Trinity hadn’t seen coming. He was gentle, attentive. Treating her like she was his own.
Trinity shook her head, the thought making her jolt with a pang of unexpected guilt.
Spencer did not need to be a father figure to Mia. He was simply an instructor. Her trainer. She would never want to saddle him with that responsibility. It was unfair to even imagine it in her head.
“Now is as good a time as any,” Nana Jo said, snapping Trinity from her reverie. “Don’t want your little gal walking up to the house in complete darkness.”
Trinity nodded, composed herself after that little internal blunder, and set out for the barn. It was dusk, the sky a beautiful wash of rich orange, pink, and purple hues. They’d had more scattered snowfall recently, so everything was dusted with white powder like the sugar sprinkled over Faith’s baked goods. It was picturesque to say the very least.
Trinity found her daughter and Spencer finishing up in Bluebell’s stall. They’d just latched the mare in for the night and were feeding the rest of the horses their dinner by tossing flakes of hay into their stalls.
“Perfect timing,” Spencer said through a wide grin. He chucked a flake into Alpine’s stall and then rubbed his palms together before swiping them along the thighs of his jeans to shake off any stray bits of hay. “We’re just finishing up here.”
“Hey, Mia?” Trinity turned to her daughter. “Nana Jo wants you to run up to the house to try on your costume to make sure it fits.”
“Is it done?” Mia’s little eyes got big with excitement.
“It is. And it turned out great. You’re going to love it.”
The girl squealed and somewhere down the barn aisle Doodlebug whinnied in response.
“You can take your boots off and put them in the tack room for next time,” Spencer instructed. “Your sneakers are in the first cubby. Let me know if you need help with the laces.”
Mia gave Spencer a quick nod before disappearing around the corner, practically skipping on the tips of her toes.
Trinity watched until her daughter reappeared with her tennis shoes on her feet and big grin on her mouth. Mia gave her mom a thumbs up and then set out for the house. In the distance, Trinity could see Josephine waiting on the porch, waving the child closer. They both disappeared into the ranch house.
“I’m impressed you two finished that thing.” Spencer jammed a pair of leather gloves into his back pocket before leaning against Bluebell’s stall door in the most effortlessly cool manner. What was it about cowboys and their ability to look relaxed doing just about anything? “It sounded like a pretty big project.”
“Only because we were starting over from scratch. Believe it or not, but I had just put the finishing touches on the other turkey costume when Mia told me it was all wrong.” She rolled her eyes. “Have any use for a turkey costume that fits an average-sized five-year-old?”
“Hey.” He shrugged. “Maybe Doodlebug could wear it in the Thanksgiving parade. He is quite a turkey.”
Trinity laughed, the snorting, catch-you-off-guard kind that was anything but attractive. She instantly covered her mouth, horrified. “Oh my gosh. I’m sorry. That was embarrassing.”
“Not embarrassing.” Spencer looked right at her, eyes pinned on hers. “Adorable.”
“Oh, hardly. I snorted, Spencer.”
He shrugged again nonchalantly. “I liked it. It was genuine.”
She didn’t know what to make of that. And she really didn’t know what to make of the heated blush creeping up her neck. It was cold outside, and yet she felt a warm flush throughout her entire body.
“Hey.” Spencer rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I was going to ask if you were free this weekend.”
Oh, goodness. Was he asking her out? On a date? Trinity wasn’t sure she’d heard the words correctly and stood there silently, her face blank as she tried to compute what he’d just said.
“Because I get the keys to my place tomorrow, and I thought you might want to be there when the furniture shows up. You know, help me figure out where everything should go.”
“I’ll have the kids,” she replied instinctively.
“Bring them.”
It’s what he had said back when he’d invited them over for the picnic. Like then, his response to include them was almost like a reflex.
She drew in a breath that lifted her shoulders, and Spencer’s brow furrowed.
“Trinity, I know you will always have the kids, and that’s not a problem for me. It doesn’t deter from the fact that I want to keep spending time with you.”
“They make it hard to work though.”
“I don’t want you to work. I want your creativity and your input and your advice.” His eyes expanded a little when he added, “I just want you. I want to spend time with you.”
Trinity tilted her head, still so unsure about his intentions. “I don’t think I understand.”
He pushed off the stall with the heel of his boot and stepped toward her to close the gap, hay crunching beneath the tread. “I like you, Trinity.”
“I like you too, Spencer.”
“I’m not sure it means the same thing, though.” He hovered over her and looked down through his dark lashes. His neck pulled tight with a big swallow. “I have feelings for you.”
“Oh.” Her whole chest ached. She didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign.
“It might be inappropriate for me to say that, and if so, I’m sorry. But I wanted you to know because I don’t like the feeling of keeping it bottled up inside. It feels like I’ve got a secret, and I’ve never been good with those.”
She just stood there a moment, chin lifted so she could peer up at him. His dimples pinched in and out of his cheeks as the muscles at the back of his jaw pulsed, and his brow line was tight, like he was trying to decipher something.
“I have feelings for you, too.” Whatever that ache was that had been in her chest earlier eased, and she wondered if it was the same thing Spencer had been feeling. If keeping the truth trapped inside had created the sensation.
“Yeah?” His bottom lip pulled between his teeth. “You do?”
“It’s hard not to,” she answered quickly, and before she knew it, he had his hands on her biceps, drawing her just a bit closer toward him. His thumbs rubbed affectionately across her arms, and it was a feeling she could get used to. No one had shown her affection like this in so long. “But I’m scared.”
He stilled. “What scares you?”
“I haven’t dated since…” Her throat was raw as she swallowed down the words. They didn’t need to be said. Spencer understood. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing either, if that makes you feel any better.”
“Oddly, it actually does.” She laughed a little at that and Spencer smiled.
“You are an incredible woman, Trinity. A wonderful mother. A good friend. And the fact that you’re gorgeous is just the icing on the cake.”
Gorgeous? Had anyone ever told her that? Most days, she was in mommy mode and definitely didn’t feel her best. She rarely even felt pretty. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“You are to me.” He shrugged.
This man was too much of all the best things. She wondered if she even deserved it, deserved someone like him. And the fact that she’d already had such a great man in her life was the reason. It felt almost selfish to expect that she could experience that again.
“I don’t want to rush anything with you,” Spencer said, dipping his head to search out her gaze. “I know things are complicated with the kids, being a single mom, and everything you’ve been through this past year. But I just wanted you to know that I’m here, however you may need me.”
“Spencer?” She drew in a sharp breath. “Will you hold me?”
He nodded and uttered, “Of course,” before pulling her all the way into his arms. One strong arm wove around her waist to hold her to him while the other hand moved up to the back of her head. His fingers tangled in her hair. She pressed her cheek to his chest, instantly comforted by the steady hum of his heartbeat.
“Thank you,” she murmured against the flannel fabric of his shirt.
“Anytime.” His chin pressed into the crown of her hair.
She let herself melt into his embrace, all the way. The kids gave hugs, but they were like little monkeys that hung off her arms, her neck, her back. It was different with Spencer. She felt protected as he folded her into his strong body. Like the rest of the world was shut out for just a moment. For the first time in what seemed like forever, something within Trinity relaxed. It was the best, most freeing feeling, and it dawned on her that she felt this way because she wasn’t alone. In this moment, it was the two of them. It hadn’t been that way since before Calvin died. She’d been an island for so long.
“You smell good,” Spencer spoke into her hair.
He did too. A little like horse, but not in a bad way. And whatever cologne he had sprayed earlier in the day still clung to his clothes, a spicy, warm aroma that only added to the comfort she felt in being this close to him.
“I usually smell like finger paint or Play-Doh.”
“No, you don’t. You usually smell like flowers.”
She laughed softly. “That makes sense, I guess.” Her head found the crook of his collarbone again and she rested it there. This had turned into more than a simple hug. It was everything she needed.
“Trinity?”
She lifted her gaze, pulling her cheek from his chest.
Spencer’s eyes bounced between hers, his jaw tense. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”
Her mouth fell open. They had been holding each other, sure, but she hadn’t seen that coming. And what she didn’t see coming, either, were the butterflies that burst into her stomach at the thought of Spencer’s lips on hers. Her reaction was anything but negative, despite worrying that she might not be ready. That it might be too soon since Calvin. That people might gossip or judge or whisper.
No, everything within her welcomed it, and for once, Trinity let herself do something for her own happiness.
“Yes,” she said through a smile. “That would be more than okay.”