Sarah's Legacy

Trent leaned on the posthole digger and watched her walk away, still liking what he saw far too much. A moment later a familiar pickup truck shot away from the building, with Bailey behind the wheel.

“I’ll be damned.” Trent shook his head and chuckled dryly. The ’53 Chevy Bailey drove was one he’d often seen parked outside the Texaco station where local mechanic Lester Godfrey worked. Coated with primer-gray paint, the truck bore the loving touch of countless hours of work getting body and engine back to near-new condition. The tires probably hadn’t seen fifty miles, and the 389 Pontiac V–8 engine, with three 2-barrel carburetors, purred like a cream-fed cat. That truck was one of the few things Lester gave a damn about, outside of his kids and his fondness for Budweiser.

How the hell had Bailey gotten possession of Lester’s pride and joy?

Trent wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

By the time Bailey returned from the feed store, he had the holes dug and had stopped to take a break. He sat under the shade tree and tried to coax the dog to come to him. As the morning had worn on, he’d noticed the heeler-mix had relaxed somewhat, at least to the point where he was no longer choking himself. But now, as Trent held out his hand and spoke, the dog tensed once more and retreated.

“I hope I’ll be able to win his trust sooner or later,” Bailey said, coming up behind Trent.

He rose to his feet, causing the heeler to move away as far as the rope would allow. “Good luck. Do you want to back your truck over here so I can unload the posts and wire?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Bailey said. “You’ve already done enough.”

“I might as well set the posts for you,” he said. “That way the cement will have a chance to harden and you can finish the rest tomorrow.”

“We’ll do it together, then,” Bailey said.

The simple meaning of the word sent a shiver creeping up his back. Together. It was something he really couldn’t relate to anymore. But he had to admit, working with Bailey turned out not to be such a bad way to spend the afternoon. She helped him mix the cement and they did half the job, stopped to eat a sandwich, then finished the rest. By late afternoon, the steel posts jutted from the ground around the entire perimeter of the yard like so many elongated teeth.

Bailey stood back to admire their handiwork. A satisfied smile curved her lips. “Looking good.”

Trent thought the same thing, though it wasn’t the fence he admired. Bailey’s long legs had grown all the more brown from being in the sun all afternoon, and moisture flecked the cleavage between her breasts. Swallowing, Trent put his shirt back on. “We might as well call it a day. You want to go see the horses? Ride a couple of them?”

He told himself he’d extended the invitation because he wanted to get it over with. He’d string the wire on his fence that evening by himself and be done with it. Done with the day’s work and with Bailey. There was no point in drawing things out. The sooner he showed her the horses, the sooner she could choose one and the quicker he could get her out of his hair. Fun was fun, but he had to come back to reality. After today, he’d be wise to remember Bailey Chancellor was off-limits.

“I’d love to.” Bailey nodded toward the dog. “Let me feed him and change my clothes first.”

A short while later she stood dressed in Levi’s, a sleeveless blouse and, to Trent’s surprise, cowboy boots. He raised his eyebrows. “You actually own a pair of boots?” Somehow, he’d expected her to ride in tennis shoes, which was dangerous and exactly the type of fool thing he’d thought a woman like her would do.

Bailey eyed the toes of her black boots. “Sure I do. I told you I’ve been taking riding lessons.”

Trent grunted and led the way across her pasture, toward the gap in the fence. The route was quickly becoming familiar and comfortable. It was a good thing the fence would be back up soon, putting an end to that.

In the barn, Trent gathered the tack and grooming tools they would need, then set them outside near the hitching post. Halters in hand, he and Bailey headed for the pasture. They brought back the horses she was interested in and worked them in the arena. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised when, after riding all of them, Bailey chose Star.