by Donna Alward
There. She’d admitted it. She was a complete chicken. She knew he deserved to be here but she wasn’t at all confident about how she’d handle seeing him again, especially in a crowd.
Jen turned her around by the shoulders. “You should go apologize.”
“It’s too late for that.”
Jen’s mouth took on a determined shape and she looked Meg dead in the eye. “It’s never too late to say you’re sorry. For heaven’s sake, Meg. We’ve all been there for each other for years. Clay loves you.”
“I know.”
Meg saw Jen’s face light up. “Well then!”
“It’s not that simple, Jen. Please…don’t say anything. It’s complicated.”
“It’s always complicated,” Jen said wisely.
Wasn’t that the truth. Meg knew Jen was right. Heavens, her road back to Andrew had been fraught with difficulty. Meg tried a smile. “Are married women always so wise?” she asked.
“Everyone has scars, Meg. It’s not easy moving past them, especially when you don’t want to get hurt again.”
Meg’s lips dropped open. “How did you know? I mean, is it that obvious?”
Jen’s gaze softened. “Oh, honey, you’re dealing with both kinds of scars—literal and figurative. You don’t give Clay enough credit. Your mastectomy won’t turn him away. And you can always go for reconstruction later, you know?”
“It’s not that, not anymore,” Meg replied. How things had changed since the day she went shopping for a dress in Lily’s store. She was nowhere near as self-conscious as she had been. She went back to the table and sat, and Jen followed. Meg rested her forearms on the table. “I’m afraid, Jen. It’s me, all me. You talk to all these survivors and it’s like they have a new lease on life and they’re so happy. And at times it’s like that. Look at how I built this business. I’m here, and that’s a victory in itself. But underneath it’s hard, because I know what it’s like. And I know how it feels to think for just a moment that you might not make it. And that gets me every time.”
Jen didn’t answer for a few minutes, but finally she looked up. “Then you have to decide which is more important. A life with Clay, or playing it safe.”
She made it sound so easy when it wasn’t. “It doesn’t matter now anyway. It’s over.” She felt miserable as she met Jen’s gaze. “Any other time he’s come back. But not this time.”
“Then you have to give him a reason to. I can’t tell you what to do, Meg, but letting it fester won’t help. You can’t spend the rest of your life avoiding someone who only lives a mile away. Who is best friends with your brother.”
“Then what do I do?”
Jen smiled. “You invite him to the grand opening. You smile. As far as the rest, you have to figure that out. But I want you to remember that I’m here, Meg. Anytime you need me. Lily, too. I know you might not be comfortable talking to Noah about your particular situation, but I know he’d understand. So many of us have always only wanted to help.”
“I know.” Meg’s heart filled with gratitude and a bittersweet sort of love. “You all stuck by me even when I pushed you away.”
Jen patted her hand. “Then maybe you won’t be so silly again, hmm?”
It was time she accepted help. Time she let people in, she realized. Maybe Clay had been right, too. Maybe the only person demanding perfection was her.
Meg thought back to the invitation on her desk. If Jen was so keen on helping, she’d surely run a tiny errand. “There is one thing you could do for me. Deliver his invitation. He’s responsible for this happening and he should be here. I’m not sure he’d even accept it from me. But he will from you.”
“You know I’ll do anything I can.”
Meg went to the office and got the invitation along with a handful of flyers. “If you can pass these out at Snickerdoodles, that’d be great.” She smiled at Jen. Even as she got nearer to her due date, Jen had an energy about her that Meg admired. It was happiness, Meg realized with a spurt of envy. The feeling soon went away. She would never begrudge anyone a chance at happiness. It was her own dissatisfaction talking. Besides, talking to Jen had somehow lifted part of the weight that seemed to drag her down lately. Perhaps the old saying was right after all—a burden shared was a burden halved.
“You’ve done so much already. Offering to provide the food for the Open House means so much. I don’t deserve it.”
“Don’t be silly. That’s what friends are for.”
Meg knew she was right. That everyone had been right all along. In this town—in this circle—people looked out for each other. Meg had felt so much love and acceptance since her return. But it had made her feel like she had very little to offer back. Maybe it was time she tried to change that.
“Either way, I want you to know I appreciate your support.”
“I’ll drop this off in Clay’s mailbox before I go back to town.”
Meg gave Jen an impulsive hug. “Thank you,” she murmured. “For everything. I feel so much better.”
Jen gave her a squeeze and stepped back. “Don’t give up yet,” she said with a wink. “And I’ll see you Saturday.”
When Jen was gone Meg wandered back to the office. She picked up the striped rock that she used as a paperweight these days. It served as a reminder of her years of friendship with Clay and what he’d sacrificed to make this Saturday possible. She hoped that someday they could find their way back to that friendship, but she wasn’t too optimistic. There would never be that open, easy way between them again. Once you loved someone, things changed. Wounds of the heart didn’t heal with a few sutures and time.
The rock warmed in her hand and she closed her eyes. She wished so many things could be different. Most of all she wished she had what it took to make him happy. Maybe setting him free was the best way to do that. Which was fine—for Clay.
But Meg knew she wouldn’t be free. And the alternative that stretched before her was a lifetime of being alone.
She put down the rock, dissatisfied. Somehow it didn’t seem like much of an alternative at all.
The last thing Clay wanted to do on a Saturday evening was go to the Briggs ranch. He’d put if off as long as he could. The invitation Jen had delivered said four o’clock until nine. It was already past seven.
He put his foot up on the bench and gave his boots a final rub of the cloth. She hadn’t even delivered the invitation herself and that spoke volumes. Was she so desperate to avoid his company? He had put himself out there, laid his heart on the line and she’d handed it back to him saying she couldn’t love him. He’d stayed away not out of anger but because he knew she was hurting, and he had no desire to make it harder for her.
But he had to go. No matter what had happened between him and Meg, he knew how it would look if he stayed away. Everyone knew he’d loaned her the money. And the Briggs family was too important to him. His absence would be noted, and he couldn’t avoid Meg forever. So he’d go to her grand opening and smile and nod at the new stable extension and ring and then he’d come home. He had no desire to ruin her big day.
To kill more time, he walked the mile between their houses.
It was seven-thirty when he arrived and the yard was full of vehicles. Country music played from a sound system somewhere and voices were raised in laughter and conversation. Three long tables were set up with quickly diminishing platters of food and washtubs contained melting ice and canned drinks. In the center of the garden was a new sign: Mountain View Stables. Red geraniums and white petunias blossomed in the surrounding bed and the picnic tables Meg had built were full of neighbors and friends. Clay moved past them and into the barn out of the noise. He hadn’t seen Meg anywhere, but he was sure she was basking in the glory of the moment. The place looked like a total success.
He was happy for her. He was glad he’d helped. But he was still bitter about how things had ended up. He’d offered her everything—his love—and she’d handed it right back to him.
Dawson came out of the
tack room with Tara just as Clay turned the corner. Tara blushed and Dawson wore a foolish grin. “Hey,” he said to Clay, keeping Tara close to his side. “Glad you finally made it.”
Dawson’s face was cheerful but Clay heard the underlying steel in the words. He should have come earlier and made an early excuse to depart. Irritation that had been bubbling all day flared. Dawson was going to play big brother when he knew nothing of the situation. He would blame Clay when it had been Meg who told him to leave her alone. He didn’t even know what Dawson’s problem was. He had nothing to fear from Clay. It was over. “Just finishing up some haying,” he said lightly, knowing it sounded lame. “This was the first I could get away.”
Tara looked up at Dawson, then back at Clay. “I think I’ll go get a drink.” She moved out of Dawson’s embrace but Clay heard her whisper, “Be nice,” as she left.
Clay studied his friend. His best friend. Since this whole thing had begun with Megan things had been tense between them, as he always knew it would be. Ever since the wedding he’d felt Dawson’s watchful eye. Dating a friend’s sister was problematic—Dawson had no idea exactly how problematic. Clay didn’t want to get into it so he deliberately deflected. “Things are getting pretty serious between you and Tara.”
“You could say that. Not so serious between you and my sister, though, right?”
It felt like a challenge and Clay was just frustrated enough to be annoyed that Dawson wouldn’t take the hint. “Maybe you should ask Meg about that.”
“I’m asking you.”
What a time for Dawson to start playing the protective big brother. Clay clenched his teeth. “You don’t have to worry about me making a move on your sister, okay?”
Dawson took a step forward. “I warned you about hurting her.” Dawson frowned. “Now she’s moping through the house and you’re nowhere to be found. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Damn it, Clay, I should kick your…”
“Do it, then,” Clay suggested, feeling his temper smolder. “Just do it if it will make you feel better.”
Dawson’s steely gaze tempered. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t think she’s the only one hurting.”
Clay met Dawson’s gaze evenly. Wasn’t this a fine turnaround? And the timing for pushing them together was perfect. Clay sighed. “You really should talk to Meg, bro. Though if you wanted to knock me around a bit I probably wouldn’t stop you. I can’t possibly feel any worse.”
Dawson’s body relaxed. “You love her then.”
Clay considered lying and then figured there was no point. He’d counted on Dawson taking Meg’s side, he realized. Knowing her brother, his friend, was trying to fix things between them only made the cut that much deeper.
“Of course I love her, you idiot. But it’s not all up to me.”
“Did you tell her?”
“Frankly that’s none of your business.”
Dawson shook his head and leaned back on the stall door. “What a pair you make. Jen said Meg’s being as stubborn as you are and she’s been moping around the house for days. Meg wouldn’t even deliver your invitation for today. Neither of you have come out to the pub in weeks and don’t say you’re too busy. You’re no more busy than the rest of us, and we’ve all noticed you dancing circles around each other. I don’t know what happened, and—” he gave Clay a dark look “—I don’t think I want to. But you guys need to talk. This is crazy.”
“Leave it alone, Dawson. Not tonight, not during her big night.”
“But…”
“Don’t you get it? I don’t want to talk to her right now.”
Clay heard a choked sound to his left and looked up. Meg was standing there, her dark eyes enormous and shining with tears. For a flash, a current seemed to run between them, the same buzz he felt every time she looked at him. Would it always be this way? This jolt of electricity? The sizzling attraction? This was why he’d avoided her. It was too hard to love her and have this distance between them.
She’d heard what he’d just said, he was sure of it, and had completely misinterpreted it out of context. Damn it, was nothing going to go right tonight? He should have followed his first instinct when the invitation had landed in his mailbox—stayed home.
“Meg, I…”
Loud voices sounded by the barn entrance, coming closer and Meg’s eyes widened further with alarm. She wouldn’t want anyone to see her upset, and he ignored Dawson and rushed forward. Before she could even voice a protest, he grabbed her hand and hauled her into the tack room that Dawson and Tara had just vacated. “I’m locking the door,” Clay advised Dawson in an undertone. “You make sure we have some privacy.”
Clay shut the door and latched the hook. The room was a good size, but the abundance of tack and supplies made it feel smaller, closed in. It smelled of leather and the musty but pleasant scent of blankets. Clay looked at Meg and felt his heart take a leap. “You look beautiful,” he said quietly. She wore a Western style dress in pink, of all things, with a belt slung over her hips and new boots. The hue set off the roses in her cheeks, and he noticed that her hair had grown more, curling out at the tips in a soft, feminine look. The weeks of avoiding her hadn’t helped at all. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in pink before.”
“The pink is for…”
“I know,” he said gently. These days the color pink was automatically associated with breast cancer awareness.
“I have to stop hiding behind it,” she said quietly. “I can’t pretend it didn’t happen. That it didn’t change me.”
Clay swallowed. It had changed her in more ways than she knew. He’d loved the old Meg but he hadn’t been in love with her the same way he was now. He’d relied on her but he hadn’t been the strong man she deserved. That ended now. He still loved her. Still wanted her.
He still wanted it all. Still believed in her.
And she was still looking at him like he couldn’t be trusted.
Meg watched Clay run a hand over his face. When she’d invited him she hadn’t envisioned them being locked in a tack room together. She’d rather thought he’d come, look around, shoot the breeze with Andrew and Noah and Dawson and stay out of her way.
As the hours had ticked by, she’d convinced herself he wasn’t coming and tried to push away the disappointment. She told herself he’d rejected her invitation and her the way she’d asked him to. She blinked. Asked? No, she’d demanded he leave her alone and he’d done just that.
Seeing him with Dawson had given her heart such a lurch she was certain he could hear it. And then she’d heard what he said and the words still rang in her ears— I don’t want to talk to her right now.
She’d been successful then, in driving him away. In making him see reason. But she’d also been right. The friendship between them was destroyed. Things would never be the same. Their houses, their businesses would only be a mile apart but the distance between them in every other way was impossible to measure. How could she survive it, knowing how much she loved him?
But how could she not? His ranch was his life and she had built hers here. It was what she wanted, wasn’t it? A place of her own. Her own legacy, a life-affirming symbol, a way to ease her family’s burdens. She couldn’t give it up. Didn’t want to give it up. For everything there was a price, and the deterioration of her relationship with Clay was hers.
“I’m fine, Clay. I should get back to the guests.”
She squared her shoulders. She could do this. Took one step, two. Couldn’t look into his strong, beautiful face as she passed by him to go to the door. And then his hand grabbed her wrist. “Don’t go.”
She stopped, fought for breath. Still couldn’t meet his gaze. She had to be strong. Nothing had changed. “I have to. Please, let me go, Clay.”
“I wish to God I could.”
He dropped her wrist, but Meg couldn’t move now. If she walked away it would be forever and her feet refused to listen to her brain. They’d
hurt each other so badly. She dropped her chin. “Why are you making this so difficult? Why can’t you just understand what I was saying and leave it at that?”
Why couldn’t they just stop caring about each other?
“I’ve tried,” he whispered hoarsely. “Lord knows I’ve tried.”
“You can let me go,” she whispered back. “You have to put your foolish ideas out of your mind. I’m not the girl for you. You’ll see I’m right one day.”
“So what are you going to do, run again?”
“Again?” She looked at him then, as the two of them stood shoulder to shoulder. There was no challenge in his eyes, no anger or pain. Just acceptance. “What do you mean, again?”
“You told me once that you would always be there for me,” he replied. “But you lied. Oh, I know, when you got sick you didn’t want to be a burden to those who loved you. When you came back, you kept everyone at arm’s length. The moment I got close you pushed me away. And then things changed, Meg. I needed you. I told you I loved you and you couldn’t leave fast enough. You accused me of being scared but it’s not me, it’s you now. Run, Megan. Run so you never have to face what’s right in front of you. So you never have to care too much. You’re good at it.”
Meg’s lips dropped open. “How dare you,” she whispered. “How dare you judge me, when you don’t know…”
“I tried to understand. I tried time and time again. You let me in, once.” His gaze was steady on hers and made her feel very, very small. “You let me in once and what you saw scared you to…”
“To death,” Meg answered. Clearly. Because that was what this was really about. “Say it. To death.”
“I don’t need to, not anymore,” he replied. “But I think you might.”
Meg moved away, as far as she could in the crowded room. She rested her hand on the horn of a new saddle. They were going to clear the air once and for all. Tonight. While business associates and clients and neighbors enjoyed free food and music and laughter, she and Clay were going to ground zero in their relationship. So be it.