“She has reason to be proud.” Rorie could just picture her. Knowing Mary, she was probably wearing the ribbon pinned to her apron. “What about Skip?” Rorie asked next, hungry for news about each one. She took the keys from her bag and systematically began unlocking the three bolts on her apartment door.
“Fine. He started school last week—he’s a senior this year.”
Rorie already knew that, but she nodded.
“Kate sends you her best,” Clay said next, his voice carefully nonchalant.
“Tell her I said hello, too.”
“She hasn’t heard from you. No one has.”
“I know. I’m sorry. She wrote after I got home from Canada, but I haven’t had a chance to answer.” On several occasions, Rorie had tried to make herself sit down and write Kate a letter. But she couldn’t. At the end of her second week back home, she’d decided it was better for everyone involved if she didn’t keep in touch with Kate. When the wedding invitation came, Rorie planned to mail an appropriate gift, and that would be the end of it.
Once they were inside the apartment, Rorie hung up her sweater and purse and motioned for both men to sit down. “It’ll only take a minute to put on the coffee.”
“Do you need me to grind the beans?” Dan asked, obviously eager to assist her.
“No, thanks. I don’t need any help.” His offer was an excuse to question her about Clay, and Rorie wanted to avoid that if she could. At least for now.
Her apartment had never felt more cramped than it did when she rejoined the two men in her tiny living room. Clay rose to his feet as she entered, and the simple courtly gesture made her want to weep. He was telling her that he respected her and that…he cared for her…would always care for her.
The area was just large enough for one sofa and a coffee table. Her desk and computer stood against the other wall. Rorie pulled the chair away from the desk, turned it to face her guests and perched on the edge. Only then did Clay sit back down.
“So,” Dan said with a heavy sigh. “Rorie never did tell me what it is you do in…in…”
“Nightingale,” Rorie and Clay said together.
“Oh, yes, Nightingale,” Dan murmured, clearing his throat. “I take it you’re some kind of farmer? Do you grow soybeans or wheat?”
“Clay owns a stud farm, where he raises American Saddlebreds,” Rorie said.
Dan looked as if she’d punched him in the stomach. He’d obviously made the connection between Clay and her earlier interest in attending the horse show.
“I see,” he breathed, and his voice shook a little. “Horses. So you’re involved with horses.”
Clay glanced at him curiously.
“How’s Nightsong?” Rorie asked, before Dan could say anything else. Just thinking about the foal with her wide curious eyes and long wobbly legs produced a feeling of tenderness in Rorie.
“She’s a rare beauty,” Clay told her softly, “showing more promise every day.”
Rorie longed to tell Clay how much it had meant to her that he’d registered Nightsong in her name, how she cherished that gesture more than anything in her life. She also knew that Clay would never sell the foal, but would keep and love her all her life.
An awkward silence followed, and in an effort to smooth matters over she explained to Dan, “Clay was gone one night when Star Bright—one of the broodmares—went into labor…if that’s what they call it in horses?” she asked Clay.
He nodded.
“Anyway, I couldn’t wake Skip, and I didn’t know where Mary was sleeping and something had to be done—quick.”
Dan leaned forward, his eyes revealing his shock. “You don’t mean to tell me you delivered the foal?”
“Not exactly.” Rorie wished now that she hadn’t said anything to Dan about that night. No one could possibly understand what she and Clay had shared in those few hours. Trying to convey the experience to someone else only diminished its significance.
“I’ll get the coffee,” Rorie said, standing. “I’m sure it’s ready.”
From her kitchen, she could hear Dan and Clay talking, although she couldn’t make out their words. She filled three cups and placed them on a tray, together with cream and sugar, then carried it into the living room.
Once more Clay stood. He took the tray out of her hands and set it on the coffee table. Rorie handed Dan the first cup and saucer and Clay the second. He looked uncomfortable as he accepted it.